#and fuck my coach for cutting MY hours

[actual-corpse]

Giving your character extra arms is bad if you suck at poses.

I don't suck at poses.... I'm just trying to keep the shapes of Luna Moth Girl clean.

[wonjns]

a dip — l.cy

⌗ pairing. . . anton lee x male reader

⌗ genre. . . smut

⌗ summary. . . you went with your fuck buddy to the pool… that was your first mistake.

⌗ includes. . . sub!reader, fwb!swimmer!anton, semi-public sex (pls don't esp not this one), unprotected sex (also don't),

⌗ wc. 2.5k

°A/N. . . sorta requested but also not really,, also not proofread nor very pretty or as descriptive as i like to be im so sorry this is just what you get when im horny bc these pictures ruined my life

you knew much better than to agree to joining anton lee at the pool of all places.

being a lifetime friend (occasionally with benefits) of his, you knew the swimmer could spend hours upon hours at the pool and not feel an ounce of exhaustion. he'd often convince you to stay long after you finished swimming yourself, just to wait for him to complete his cool down routine before driving you home.

the worst thing of all, though, was that you were constantly reminded just how much he had hidden underneath those oversized sweaters and jeans that he always wore. behind that whole shy boy aesthetic he had going on, was the physique of what you could only compare to a greek god, and even he knew it.

you never got used to it - seeing anton's chiseled body exposed in the aquatic habitat that felt like a second home to him. no matter how sweet his smile or how loud his laugh, nothing could distract you from drooling over a body like that cutting through the water with such ease. it was even worse because the sweet boy knew exactly what he did to you.

he tried to cut you some slack, though, respecting your effort to seem unbothered every time he'd peel his layers of clothing off before jumping into the pool, wearing nothing but his tight blue swim trunks that suffocated his muscular thighs.

one time he even pretended not to notice how you were so worked up that you had to go not-so-subtly get yourself off in the community bathroom.

in your defense, it was a heated indoor pool, and at the time he had completely annihilated you in a race. that proud smirk paired with the steam rising from his rippling back muscles had you biting back moans from the sight alone.

so naturally, it was to no one's surprise once things turned physical between you both.

the adrenaline that swimming gave anton put him on cloud nine, and being the stubborn ass that you were, you were determined to somehow beat this pro swimmer in a race - only for it to end with you losing miserably and somehow hornier than when you started. things would always end one way or another, a taunting comment directed at you leading to his bare back pressed against the cool tile walls of the changing room while you yanked his shorts low enough to take his throbbing cock into your mouth.

but today you were going to be good.

you hadn't hooked up with anton for a while, and were truly only tagging along because he needed a friend to time his laps for the upcoming season.

however, it'd be a lie to say you didn't have to give yourself a prep talk as you set your things down on the pool chairs, noticing nobody was there tonight. it was business as usual, though. anton always convinced the coach to let him have later access while the rest of the team went home so he could focus. you just found it harder to control yourself around him when left alone like this, but tonight you had a new type of dedication to simply swim, help your friend, and go home.

besides, why would it be so difficult for you to keep it in your pants for just one night?

‘oh, thats why.’ you groaned internally as you watched anton strip his shirt from over his head.

fuck, had he been bulking up?

you pretend not to notice how his biceps flex as he runs a hand through his shaggy brown hair while you stripped down to your swim trunks as well. god, his skin was practically glowing even from the dingy indoor lighting.

your head whipped around back towards his direction when you heard a low hiss, watching his face scrunch slightly as he stepped down the pool's ladder. your dick twitched a bit at the sight of his furrowing brows and low groan as he sunk deeper into the water, but you mentally slapped yourself back to reality.

"what's with you?" you questioned approaching the steps, getting ready to enter as well.

"i forgot to remind coach to turn the heaters on tonight," he responded. "shit, its freezing."

you thought he was being dramatic, but the chilly water indeed bit back when you lowered your ankles in. you decided against submerging for now, simply swirling your legs in circles while you spun anton's stopwatch in your hand.

anton began a quick warm up, stretching and dunking himself under water several times and adjusting quickly to the temperature. his wet hair splaying out around his face made him even more gorgeous than he already was, and you felt your cheeks gain a sickening warmth.

"alright bro, let's get started." you cleared your throat, speaking up to hurry the process along before your resolve crumbled.

"sure, bro." he mocked before sending a wink your way. shit, he was already on to you.

anton held eye contact with you as he hoisted himself out of the water to walk over to the swim lanes, causing your breath to silently falter. your instincts made you the first to break contact though, as your eyes followed the droplets that slid down his broad chest. they each trailed down past his perked nipples, over his abs that you could never steal long enough glances at, and eventually disappear into his waistband before leading to — that.

to say the least, anton was generously endowed when it came to the size in the south. the ‘quiet man with a fat cock’ stereotype was only proven true with him, if the way you struggled to fit all of him in your mouth was anything to go by.

anytime anton wore those small trunks or, god forbid, the uniform speedo during his meets - it was impossible to tear your eyes away from how the soaking cloth material clung around his massive length when he emerged from the water.

and boy was he massive. that was a fact you could never forget but somehow still surprised you each time to this day.

you were such a pervert. and he loved it so much.

only 30 minutes into his laps you found yourself desperately missing the shy boy act that he would put on for every body else. once he was in athlete mode, the confidence in his demeanor made your self control fly out the window. it didn't make sense how someone as massive as him could practically fly through the water, flexing every inch of his muscle like it was nothing.

it forced you to reminisce on how he was in bed, constantly taking you with his immense stamina. he could toss and turn you in any way at any given pace, making you see stars like it was nothing — even when you were the one to start things, he made sure to finish them. you remembered the way his biceps would tighten and ripple in your grasp, holding on for dear life as you begged for him to thrust into you harder or squeeze you tighter. you missed the sore feeling those big hands of his would leave on your hips and thighs.

get it together, y/n.

if you had a dollar for every time you had to yank yourself out of the gutter in just the span of one hour, you'd be rich enough to drop out of school entirely.

you had allowed yourself to sit calf-deep in the water at the end of the racing lane, but it wasn't until he reached you after knocking out 3 laps in a row that you regretted your decision. he emerged from the water with a big splash, throwing his head back and letting out the most erotic sigh you could imagine as he finally let air reach his lungs.

a lump formed in your throat, watching anton's buff chest rise and fall in tune with his breaths while both long arms gripped the edge of the pool on either side of your legs.

"what was my time for those?" the swimmer finally asked you once he had stabilized his breathing.

"oh! right, uhm...." you snap out of your trance, gut dropping when you looked down to the stop watching still ticking in your hand.

"you forgot to stop it, didn't you?" anton asked, a tone of more amusement rather than annoyance seeping through his smirk. "don't tell me you got distracted?"

"fuck, i'm sorry." you groaned, annoyed with your own sexual frustration overtaking your ability to play it cool.

"it's fine." anton shrugged, pulling his body out of the water and plopping on to the ledge next you, making you flinch as copious amounts of water splashed around the concrete. "just let me fuck you."

your eyes widened, damn near choking on the breath you gasped in. when you looked up to see his mischievous eyes, you swore you felt him leaning closer.

"what the fuck, ton?" you exhaled, slightly punching his arm, savoring the split second of contact you made with his warm skin.

"god, its been like a month, y/n. i can't focus on conditioning and you can't even click a button for me, clearly." anton chuckled. "lets just do it so i can have a good season. you know you’re my charm.” he teased, gently nudging you back with his elbow.

you couldn't believe the causality he was saying all of this with. but he did always call you his good luck charm, somehow managing to break his own personal record anytime you'd let him hit the night before or suck you off right before a meet, swallowing your cum like it was his own lewd type of protein shake.

it would also be a lie to an insane degree to say you didn't miss the way his soft skin felt gliding along yours whenever he would grind into you, his huge hands giving you a sense of stability in the way he would hold you down.

anton could tell from the way you were shamelessly biting your lip that you were thinking about it. he took the initiative to push your shoulders down until your back was flat against the concrete.

he had barely let you utter out a desperate "okay" before he was rolling over on top of you, not hesitating for a second to drop his hips directly over yours so you could feel how hard his thick bulge had already gotten. you moaned aloud, hips immediately bucking up to meet his as he lowered his head to your neck, feathering wet kisses along your column.

the water dripping from his body was cold, but the warmth of his torso easily overcame it all when you needily reached out to pull the entirety of his weight onto you. you didn't realize how much you missed the rippling of his shoulder blades beneath your palms until you felt his body rolling in perfect tune with yours. you ran your shaky hands all over his chiseled back as you felt his hardened nipples brush against yours, and while you hopelessly wanted more you also didn't want this feeling to end.

you felt a little pitiful, just sitting there allowing yourself to moan in pure bliss as your wet bodies press into each other, gripping anton's wide shoulders as his kisses picked up in heat. he was sucking hickeys into the sweet spot of your neck while his swim trunks tightened more and more as he humped against you, making you dizzier by the second.

"you sound so fucking hot whimpering for me like that." he moaned, licking a long trail up your neck to your jaw.

you didn't have any time to respond before he was pulling you into a searing kiss, his plump lips sloppily devouring yours while groaning into your mouth. you remembered how much you loved the way he tasted, and silently cursed at yourself for going this long without him.

when your lungs began needing air, you broke apart to moan out his name, just for him to grab your jaw and bring you back in for an even more overwhelming kiss. he was taking over every sense you had, filling your entire consciousness with nothing but thoughts of him. your hips bucked up incessantly, your body begging for him since your mouth couldn’t.

the hard concrete beneath you was starting to cause your limbs to ache as anton's mass pressed deeper into you, and he seemed to have read your mind, because before you knew it he was lifting himself up and dragging you into the water.

your mind was much too hazy to even register the vast difference in temperature, especially when you were clinging to anton like you needed him to breathe. it was as if something had taken over you and put you in the passenger seat of your own movements - all you could feel yourself doing was mumbling endless pleas for him to fuck you before pulling him in to reconnect your lips.

you could feel anton's shit eating grin against your lips as he backed you up against the ledge, slightly lifting his leg against the pool wall in order to guide you grinding your clothed cock against his thigh. he took advantage of your loud moan to suck on your tongue, loving the way your fingers curled into his wet hair.

there was only so much you could handle before you were reaching below the water to pull your own swim trunks off, deciding that if anton didn't fuck you right then you might actually explode. anton helped you discard the shorts and send them flying somewhere atop of the water. the second you were free, you felt your cock on his abs, causing your hips to take action and grind against the muscle before you could even think about what you were doing.

some combined variant of a choked laugh and moan left anton’s throat as he watched you throw your head back, obsessed with the way you were using his body to chase the pleasure you craved. he decided that he had his fun, slipping free from his trunks as well and lining himself up against you.

"deep breaths, baby." anton whispered, trying to sound confident but the words coming out as a tremble. you would normally laugh at how it almost sounded like he were advising himself, but you were too far gone.

when he finally bottomed out in you, his size and the pressure of the water had your mind in a different realm. you clung to anton's round shoulders as he held you securely, giving you time to adjust after not having him in you for a month.

"this little ass still so tight and ready for me, i knew you missed me." he sighed out, giving you small experimenting rolls of his hips.

when you gripped him tighter and started fucking yourself on his cock, he knew he was in the clear to send you to oblivion, and thats exactly what he did.

between the desperation in anton’s thrusting and the feeling of your member rubbing along his built torso, it didn't take much for either of you to approach your highs rapidly. you were soon announcing them to each other while you clung your slippery bodies tight together, the once still water around you turning into nothing less of a tsunami.

"'m cumming, ton." you cried out, just for him to groan deeply in agreement.

he held the back of your neck, pushing your head down to make eye contact with him as you both reached your climaxes at the same time, an oddly intimate feeling settling over you in the moment and making your skin buzz.

panting against each other's faces, anton leaned in to claim your lips once more before you were both giggling like a couple of fools, padding your hands around the water as you brought yourselves down to earth.

it took a couple of moments for you to gasp horrendously at the realization of what you both just did, looking to anton with so much terror etched in your eyebrows that he couldn't help but laugh.

"did we just- the school's pool- we-" you sputtered aimlessly, only stopping once anton's hand emerged from the water to cover your mouth.

"don't worry about it, coach will handle it. he won't mind, because after that i'm about to bring this school three new medals."

© 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐧𝐬 — all rights reserved

[bueckers-sturniolo]

the alchemy.

paige x fem!teammate! reader

word count: 2k!

warnings: uhhh, cursing? literally one suggestive-ish comment, if i think of anymore ill come back and lyk!

authors note: HIIII! this is my first time ever writing anything whatsoever, and i can’t tell if i genuinely enjoy or really hate this. you gotta start somewhere though, right? 🤔🤔🤔

go read part two here!

this happens once every few lifetimes; these chemicals hit me like white wine…

you and paige were inseparable. it didn’t go unnoticed by fans, not by any means. you were a year younger than paige, you started playing for uconn her sophomore year. as soon as this was announced, paige followed you on everything, immediately commenting on any post the uconn instagram page made about you, commenting something along the lines of just saying your name in all caps with a bunch of emojis, or even, when she was feeling bold, “Theres our girl! 🤩🙌 (or, ‘my girl’ if she was feeling silly that day),” and even on your own, individual posts about yourself, she’d like and comment some form of encouragement or a subtle compliment just to hype you up, as she does the rest of the team.

she couldn’t deny her nearly unbearable attraction toward the minute she first had laid eyes on you. even if it was over a tiny screen. the first time she saw you was when geno had shown the team videos of you playing and explained to them who you are, where you’re from, what position you play, and all other things they should know. you were around 5’10, and you were a point guard. you had gotten a scholarship to uconn, and obviously, you took it up. the first time paige physically saw you play, she knew you two would become close. not only working together on the court, during games and practices, but also, off of the court.

and you guys did. by the time the season started, you were sure you guys were unstoppable. every practice, you guys were fully locked in, becoming an outstanding duo together. that is, until, she got a tibial plateau fracture. she sat out a whopping 19 games after her surgery, and it was sad to see. she was such a powerful player, and now one of your best friends. games and practices didn’t feel nearly as good without her, but she made you promise that you’d work everyday to improve your already very strong talent, to play for ‘the both of you,’ as she said. she’d come to practices, games, and even just to your personal training sessions to provide some form of support.

what if I told you I’m back? the hospital was a drag, worst sleep that I ever had, I circled you on a map; I havent come around in so long, but im coming back so strong.

as soon as paige was cleared by doctors to begin playing again, she worked several hours, every single day. she came back as a fucking beast. since the day she got cleared and started working her ass off, she earned the nickname ‘sniper’ from you. your nickname for her was ‘killer,’ which, is kinda where she got the idea for sniper. you both were very powerful point guards. every day since she came back, you were amazed by just how hard she was working to get back up to her already impressive level of skill. and as time went on, she got even better than before. from the wise words of your guys’ coach, geno, she literally ‘came back better than she was when she was named player of the year.’

so when I touch down, call the amateurs and cut ‘em from the team, ditch the clowns, get the crown. baby, im the one to beat. cause the sign on your heart said it’s still reserved for me. honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

one night, after a practice, you guys are sitting on your couch, scrolling on your phones in the living room of your apartment. she was over there often. you didn’t live in a dorm, but she did, so this is where you typically hung out. you didn’t get a dorm, for mainly one reason, living on campus is expensive. you personally thought that if you were gonna pay so much to live somewhere, might as well be somewhere bigger than the dorms at uconn. your parents somehow agreed, and helped you through paying for it your first few years. you’re now a junior, and paige is a senior. though, she was technically going into her junior year of playing basketball, but it was her last year as a uconn ‘student.’ over the past several months, it’s been…. flirty, to say the least. you’ve always been not ‘just friends,’ but, you never talked about it. it was just ‘normal’ to you guys. you had talked about to kk once, and the conversation didn’t really help. at all. not in the fucking slightest.

“well, i mean… yeah, we all notice it. she just…. acts so different around you…? it’s not a bad difference, per se… it’s just like, why the fuck is she so nice to you? she’s constantly like… on her knees praising you. it’s crazy, lowkey. but none of us wanna say that, so we kinda just have accepted it all season.” kk says, finally looking up from her phone at me, sitting on the edge of her bed, giving her a ‘please help me’ look.

i stare at her for a few seconds, then sigh. is it actually different? does she really do that, or is kk just exaggerating, like she always does?

“kk, i don’t- i don’t know, dude. i don’t notice it. it’s just- like-“ kk interrupts me, knowing i couldn’t find the words to explain what i was feeling, “normal to you?”

i nod, putting my face in my hands and letting out another sigh. “yeah, i get that. but, also… like, how do you not notice it? it’s like- remember that guy she said she had a crush on, like- 7 months ago or some shit?” she said, sighing.

“yeah, why?” i say, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion on where the fuck she could possibly be going with this.

“she literally flirted with you more than she flirted with him. then, she rejected him, and said there was ‘no reason behind it….’ is that not suspiscious to you? in that one picture of you guys and the weird ass dude she apparently liked, she’s leaning closer to you than she is him? does that not even slightly spark a tad bit of suspiscion?” kk says, getting frustrated that im not seeing her point here.

“i mean- no? i didn’t even notice it, kk.” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “exactly my point,” kk says, sitting up to really try to get her point across. “she acts like she’s in love with you, and heaven forbid you notice it even slightly. i could name so many things that just, like- we have all noticed, and paige knows we’ve noticed. like, that time that one bitch was pushing you on the court the entire game, and paige eventually got pissed off and pushed her back off of you, then got a fucking technical foul over it…? or, how about when she gets drunk, she literally is all over you. like, hugging you, holding you, falling asleep on the couch with you literally on top of her? is that not somehow making you just use that little brain in your head?” kk says, and i just stare in thought. maybe she was right. maybe it is more than a close friendship.

you snap out of your thoughts as paige says your name, looking over at her. “yeah?” you say, trying to seem cool.

“are you okay? you just spaced out for like…. 10 minutes…” paige says, turning her phone off sitting her it down on her chest. “oh, yeah,” I say, chuckling. that’s fucking embarrassing, you thought. but why wouldn’t she notice it? she notices everything about you.

“y’know… you did really good today,” paige says smiling at you. you smile too, looking down at your hands, “thanks. you literally always do good, so. no point in boosting your ego any more than it already is.” you say, looking back up to meet her gaze.

“i call you killer for a reason, you know that, right? you’re fucking phenomenal.” and she meant it. you were a goddess, in her eyes. if there was any person closest to heaven on this earth. it’s you. everything about you. she couldn’t get enough of you, and if it was up to her, she’d show you just how perfect you are to her. you smile, shaking your head in disbelief. “you’re insane.”

“im literally complimenting you, idiot- how does this make me insane,” paige says, laughing. you shrug, shaking your head. “you know, you’re my bestfriend, right? like, the best, best-friend i’ve ever had? ” paige says, after a few seconds of silence. you look back up, your gaze softening, your big grin also softening into a sweet smile. kk was right, you thought. you knew what that was. you knew what she meant. she is in love.

hey, you. what if I told you we’re cool? that child’s play back in school is forgiven under my rule. i havent come around in so long, but I’m making a come-back to where I belong.

you sit in your room in silence, staring at the ceiling. you keep replaying things in your mind, things she’s said. things she’s done. you knew you liked girls, you knew you liked paige. but, at what cost? did your whole friendship form from the attraction you guys had from the start? was this random to her? were you guys ever going to talk about it? this whole situation is ridiculous. right now, paige is visiting her family in minnesota. you’ve met them before, and you loved her little brother, drew, like your own brother. he was precious to you. but, this time you didn’t go, you had to stay back and practice. which, sounds ridiculous to paige given that you’re already the best player in the world to her. but, you knew you’d been slacking on practicing and certain skills you were supposed to be good at. you didn’t want to let her down. or the team, of course. but, paige specifically.

these bloakes warm the benches, we’ve been on a winning streak. (s)he jokes that it’s heroin but this time with an ‘e.’

today, you guys had a game. you were always pretty hard on yourself, but, today was worse. paige noticed this, quickly. as she always does. right before halftime, you shoot a three. you make it, but, it still was kinda sloppy. not all of your shots were sloppy, of course. but, today you felt like shit and were on your period. you didn’t feel great, and you were pissed off that the girl guarding you was on your ass all damn game. the girl in question was no other than kate martin, who was always on your ass specifically, when you guys played iowa. it was infuriating, and not to mention that you kept getting fouls called on you by a ref who clearly doesn’t realize that kate won’t stay off of your case. as soon as half-time hits, you walk over to the bench, muttering a ‘holy fucking shit’ under your breath. you sit down, paige immediately following after you, sitting beside you.

“hey, killer…. it’s okay, i promise. you’re doing so, so good.” paige says, leaning closer to you trying to reassure you in a soft, gentle tone.

“doesnt feel like it.” you say, grumpily, grabbing your water and taking a drink of it. “i know, but hey,” she says, smiling. “you’re fuckin’ killing it. if it makes you feel any better, you scored and knocked her down because of how close she was to you, maybe she’ll back off. but…” she says, pausing. “do not get a tech because of her.” you look over at her, slowly nodding. “yeah, im trying. but, the next time she gets in my face, i’m knocking her to the fucking ground again.” you say, quietly. paige smiles, “no being too aggressive… i mean, yes, be aggressive. but, no techs.”

“yeah, yeah. okay, idiot face. i’ll try.” you say and paige smiles wider, shaking her head.

as the game continues, we’re up by a solid two points. youre now in the last 45 seconds of the game. iowa has the ball, clark scores a 3 on paige. of fucking course, you think.

kk gets the rebound, and we get the ball, finally. with now only 30 seconds left, you’re panicking. you’re losing by one damn point. geno calls a time out out to the ref, the ref granting him this and you all huddle over. paige leans over to you, mumbling a, “you’ve got this, killer. im leaving this up to you. you won’t let me down.” you smile, nodding. she smiles at you for a few seconds. she is so whipped, and it’s obvious. you’re addicting. you’re like heroin, but with a fucking ‘e,’ paige thinks.

shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads. beer sticking to the floor, cheers chanted, cause they said, “there was no chance, tryna be the greatest in the league.” where’s the trophy? (s)he just comes runnin’ over to me.

as the game resumes, the ball is passed to paige. 15 seconds. the time is ticking, so, so fast. paige does a pump fake, immediately passing the ball to you. you catch it, turning slightly so you can dribble around martin, who’s still on your ass. you nearly lose the ball. you’re wasting too much time time, you think. you glance up at the clock. 5 seconds. you try to think fast, then quickly preform a fake pass to paige, then as soon as kate turns her attention toward paige, you shoot directly behind the point the three-point line, and you make it. the buzzer sounds. you look over at the score counters, wondering if it’s able to be counted. they announce it is, and you feel like you’ve never been happier than in that damn moment. your entire team is screaming, all of the fans in the bleachers standing up and cheering. you place your hands on your knees, leaning down and panting while smiling. that’s when you see paige, her shirt is lifted up so her stomach is showing, still cheering. smiling ear to ear, she suddenly runs over to you from across the court. she hugs you, picking you up and spinning you around.

this type of shit only happens once every few lifetimes. who are you to deny your love for her any longer? who are you to fight the general chemistry between you two? who are you to fight the alchemy?

a/n: RAHHHHHH I HOPE YOU LOVED IT IM SORRY IF IT SUCKS ASS!!!! IF YOURE READING THIS RN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

[mountttmase]

What I Need

Note - the longest fic I’ve ever written 😭 I’ve added a little ‘break’ halfway through so if you did want to stop and come back to read the rest later it’s easier to see where you’ve left off but if you want to read it all in one go feel free 🩷 thank you @carlottawllms for the initial request and I’m sorry it took so long to get to 😭 and thank you to all my besties for your help with this, I couldn’t do it without you 🩷 I know it’s long but feedback would be appreciated immensely and I promise to never write a fic this long again 😌

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 20.5k

Warnings - angst and fluff

Just once you thought you might be treated to a well deserved lie in this Saturday but unfortunately the universe had other plans for you, just like always.

Your phone had been vibrating for a few minutes on the nightstand and you knew it was someone trying to call you before a barrage of texts were sent your way. Letting them fly in before you picked your phone up to see who it was and what they wanted even though you knew exactly who it was and why they were pestering you at this ungodly hour.

You already make it feel like it’s not worth living you thought, but before you could think about anything else his photo flashed up on your screen as he tried to call you again and you begrudgingly hit accept before you were permanently etched into his bad books.

‘Hello?’

‘About bloody time y/n, what the hell have you been doing?’ He scolded you. His voice hushed but you could tell he wanted to shout at you for not picking up and you rolled your eyes at his stupid attitude that you didn’t need this time of the morning.

‘Sleeping, Mason. You know what probably most of the uk population is doing right now since it’s stupid o’clock on a bloody Saturday’

‘Well I don’t give a shit, I need you. How fast do you think you can get here?’

‘I don’t know, Mase-‘ you started, not ready to leave the comfort of your bed just yet but he was cutting you off as soon as he realised what you were about to say.

‘No, y/n don’t do this. Did you not see my message? Code red yeah, that means I need you here now’

‘I’m sure it’s not that bad, you big girls blouse’

‘She’s offering to make me breakfast. Pancakes if you please’ he told you, his voice an octave higher as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying to you and you had to hold in a giggle at how ridiculous he sounded.

‘You love pancakes’

‘No I love your pancakes, there's a difference. I don’t know what she puts in hers she could drug me for all I know. Or make the whole wheat ones like a maniac’

‘I mean it’s hard to fuck up pancakes im sure they’re-‘

‘Can we forget about the bloody pancakes, how long till you’re here?’ He demanded, but you were already up and pulling a hoodie on before stuffing yourself into your shoes.

‘I’ll be five minutes’ you sighed, grabbing your keys and walking out the door as Mason repeatedly told you to hurry up until you had to hang up as you began to drive.

How it became the routine of you bailing him out of these situations was a long story.

Mason had been your best friend since you were little. Your dad being one of his first football coaches and even though you went to separate primary schools you still saw him most weekends when you helped out and sometimes joined in with the games. Mason teaching you how to kick the ball properly and you knew when you scored your first goal he let you win.

You eventually stopped going to practice, not seeing Mason at all for a year or so until you both wound up going to the same secondary school and it’s like you picked up where you left off.

You watched each other grow from awkward little teenagers to full grown adults and as much as you tried to keep your friendship the same you knew it would never be normal.

You went the usual route; college, uni, big office job in a fancy company while Mason lived his dreams and changed right before your eyes. Subtle changes that came over time meaning you never really caught onto them but the shy polite boy you once knew was gone.

He was cocky and sure of himself. Cheeky in a way that all the girls loved and he used it to his advantage to get exactly what he wanted. You weren’t blind, you know he was handsome but the way he threw his money and looks about just to get into some poor girls knickers made you sick sometimes but you stuck by him through it all. Feeling like you were the only person who had his best interest at heart most of the time.

Mason didn’t have friends, he had yes men. People to tell him he looked good and that it didn’t matter what he did or what he said to people because they’d clear it up for him afterwards. Leaving his picture perfect image intact so the world still thought he was a good boy even though he was anything but.

You didn’t know when, but you too had fallen into that category. Running around after him like he was a toddler that had just learned to walk, trying to protect him from crashing into things he shouldn’t be and picking up all of his mess after him for little to no thanks. You didn’t even know why you did it at this point. A sense of loyalty maybe? Or wanting to keep him away from certain people that you knew only used him. You knew he was a grown man at the end of the day and he was old enough to look after himself but still you carried on.

Even the routine of helping him kick girls out of his house was a mystery to you. The first time was a mistake when you’d turned up heartbroken on his doorstep after a failed exam and the girl he’d managed to score that night made a swift exit much to his satisfaction. Telling you he’d been trying to get rid of her for an hour but she wouldn’t budge and you were the perfect solution.

When he called you up and asked if you could do something similar for him the next week you refused at first. Thinking it was weird and you were worried about the girls feelings but he wore you down like he always did until the next thing you knew you were fake crying on his door mat as he ushered a pretty blonde girl out the door with the fake promise of calling her back later that day.

You must have helped him throw at least 30 girls out now. A catalogue of excuses at your disposal and even though you knew it was weird, it had merged itself in as just another part of your friendship and soon enough you were pulling onto his drive and housing yourself out of your car.

You rang the doorbell to make it look more realistic, the door opening a few moments later to Mason who looked more than relieved to see you and you quickly made your way inside to start the act.

‘What do you want? Dead relative, dog or something worse?’ You asked him, pinching your cheeks so they looked pinker before squirming yourself in the eyes with your water bottle. You’d tried and tested the lot but the sports cap you found was the best at making it look like actual tears.

‘Dogs fine, she’s been yapping on about hers all morning and showing me pictures so-‘

‘You’re so cruel, Mason’ you remarked, hoping to make him feel a little bit bad about what he was doing but you knew it was all in vain. He never did.

‘Just start crying before I make you, yeah?’ He laughed so you took the opportunity to get him back and wailed out the loudest fake cry you could muster right in his ear. The sound making him jump before he bounded you into his arms so you could cry into his neck and before you knew it, the sound of a very concerned but sweet sounding woman could be heard in the hallway.

‘Mason? Is everything okay?’

‘No really no’ he told her, the fake worry in his voice making you roll your eyes but you carried on sniffling to help him out. ‘This is my best friend and she’s had some awful news this morning’ he told her, walking you towards the living room so he could sit you on the sofa. ‘I’m really sorry to do this, her dogs just died and she needs me’

‘Oh my god’

‘Yeah she’s really not in a good way’ he confirmed, pulling you in closer and your cries went up in volume and you felt him pinch your side gently as if to tell you to tone it down.

‘Well can I help at all?’ She offered and you actually felt a little sorry for her. She seemed too sweet and you wondered how Mason had got his grubby little claws into her but you’d seen him on nights out and knew how he trapped women under his spell. You were just thankful that you were immune to his powers as if someone treated you like this you’d swing for them.

‘I think it’s best I just stay with her for now, but I’ll text you yeah? I’ve got your number saved?’

‘Oh, yeah okay then’ she uttered before the pair of them fled upstairs to get her things and within a few minutes he was with her at the door. Hearing the talk in hushed tones before he shut the door behind her but you let your cries continue.

‘Alright you can stop that now, sound makes my brain ache’ he groaned as she flopped down onto the sofa next to you and you laughed as you unhid your face from the cushion.

‘You’re welcome, by the way’ you told him. Bumping your shoulder into his as you sat up but he just rolled his eyes. You knew he was thankful even if he didn’t say it exactly but it would be nice to hear it sometime.

‘You fancy some breakfast? I’m in the mood for pancakes’ he winked but you just rolled your eyes at him. Pancakes sounded good to you too but you knew you’d be stuck making them.

‘Where’s Ace? He’s the only reason I’m here’ you asked, deflecting his question as you knew what he was asking and by the look he was giving you he wasn’t too happy about it.

‘Charming’ he scoffed before whistling and the sound of bounding paws made you smile until Ace was running in and jumping into your lap.

‘Hi baby’ you cooed, scratching over his head and trying to avoid the face licks he was sending your way but Mason was just looking at you like he was waiting for something.

‘So… what’s happening with the pancakes?’

‘Ace, your daddy is a very silly man, did you know that?’ You babbled but you could tell Mason was offended with what you’d said.

‘Don’t turn my son against me’

‘Do you want some pancakes, acey? Mumma will make you some’ you babbled too him, knowing there was no way for him to answer but from the look on his face you could that’s what he wanted.

‘Since when are you his mum’ Mason commented, trying to reach over to pet him but you wouldn’t let him. Jumping up so Ace could follow you and he just sighed and rolled his eyes.

‘Since I’m one of the only stable females in his life, okay? Don’t confuse him now’

You left Mason in the living room so you could make some pancakes. Your own belly rubbing as you hadn’t had a chance to think about breakfast this morning but thankfully he had everything in and as soon as he smelt them you heard him walking in to grab some.

‘Why are you making little ones?’ He questioned, grabbing some juice from the fridge and a couple of glasses.

‘They’re for ace’ you shrugged. Plating them up in his little doggy bowl and letting him tuck in before sorting yours and Masons out.

‘So he gets preferential treatment’

‘Do you ever have a day off?’ You muttered, wanting him to just give things a rest for five minutes but you could tell by his laugh he wouldn’t be letting up anytime soon.

‘Shut up, you love me’ he teased, poking you in the sides as he grabbed his plate and the feel of it angered you. He knew you hated being poked and prodded but he just carried on as he loved getting under your skin.

‘Not when you’re like this I don’t’ you sighed and even though you were half joking you had realised over the last few times you’d hung out that being around him was a chore sometimes. His usual playful comments had more venum behind them and now you couldn’t actually work out if he still liked you or not. Being around him never felt as good as it used to but whenever you got upset about it he’d tell you he was playing so you tried to think nothing more of it. Wondering if you were just hormonal or had forgotten how to take a joke.

Halfway through breakfast your thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. His eyes looking at you pleadingly as if he wanted you to go and get it but you remained firm and stared back at him.

‘Please, y/n. If it’s her she’ll have me talking for another half an hour. Just make her go away please’

‘Fine’ you huffed, getting up and storming to the door and you knew he was smiling from where he sat behind you. ‘I’m not doing the washing up though’

‘Hey, you make the mess you tidy it away’

‘Oh get lost’ you muttered under your breath, opening the door to what you expected to me the girl from earlier but thankfully it was just an Amazon delivery guy and you took the parcel with a smile before bidding him goodbye. ‘Mase? Its just an Amazon parcel you’re safe’

‘Ah amazing, can you open it for me? Should be just a charging cable’ he nodded as he stacked your plates and took them to the dishwasher, leaving you on your own to tear the box open but once you were in you wanted to vanish into thin air.

What you weren’t expecting was the red box that was sitting under the packing paper. The words thin feel jumping out at you first and you groaned loudly as he walked back over to you with a confused expression.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘You’re gross, I swear to god. Why did you make me open this?’ You huffed as you threw the box of condoms his way and he caught it with one hand before looking down with a smile.

‘Ah i forgot about these, got the ribbed ones this time to see if they make a difference’ he winked but you just made fake gagging noises as you walked out of the kitchen and back into the living room where he followed you in shortly after. Thankfully hiding the box out of sight from you.

‘What you doing next Friday? It’s Woody’s birthday so we’re going out and he asked me to ask if you wanna come’ he suddenly piped up with as you turned the tv on and the question took you by surprise.

‘Why didn’t he ask me himself?’

‘Cause he thinks you’re scary’ he winked ‘I’m kidding, he was pretty out of it last night when we made plans and he knew I’d probably see this morning’

‘So now it’s just standard that I kick the girls out your house for you? And all your friends know about it’

‘Pretty much. I’ve given you excellent reviews so if you get calls for similar from the others you can thank me later’ he teased but you weren’t in the mood to argue with him anymore. Huffing as you relaxed back into the sofa but he was soon poking your leg with his finger. ‘You coming next week or what? We’ve got a section booked so there won’t hundreds of people and you don’t know I’ll pay for you’

‘I’m not worried about paying, Mase’ you told him even though in the back of your mind you were a little bit. Mason like to go to the most expensive places and drink the most expensive things and you couldnt keep up with him half the time so the offer of him playing always settled your nerves when it was nights out like this. ‘Can I bring Olivia?’

‘Who’s Olivia?’

‘That new girl from work I was telling you about the other day? The one that’s just moved here and doesn't know anyone’ you told him before realising he probably hadn’t been listening the whole time you were talking about her before.

‘Is she hot?’

‘Mason-‘

‘Im kidding, I’m kidding, You can bring the pope for all I care’ he shrugged but you knew even if you asked him not to go near her he still would.

‘Mason I'm serious, I don’t want you anywhere near her okay? you’ll make things awkward at work and she wouldn’t touch you with with a barge pole anyway’

‘Wow y/n, I’m bruised’ he told you, hand on his heart to make it look like he was hurt but you could tell from the tone of his voice he didn’t care.

‘She’s got something going on with someone at work and if you ruin it I’ll kill you’ you threatened but he just held his hands up in mock surrender. ‘Who else is gonna be there?’

‘Oh the usual’ he told you. Reeling off some names you knew plus a few guys you don’t know and you knew what that meant. Mason wanted to try and set you up with someone he knew and even though you appreciate the sentiment you couldn’t think of anything worse.

At this point you thought he just felt sorry for you and was trying his hardest to find you anyone. You’d never had a boyfriend, never been in a real relationship or even been on that many dates. Any you did happen to go on always ended in the same way with that same awful message. I see you more as a friend than a girlfriend but I’d love to stay in touch and you didn’t know what was wrong with you. Even though Mason sometimes tried to help, you didn’t want to attract boys like him and his friends so any new boy he was suggesting you almost always never gave a proper chance.

‘I was thinking maybe I could put some feelers out? You know put a good word in with a few of the lads and see if any are interested-‘

‘I’d rather eat my own eyeballs than date one of your friends’ you told him, looking up to his horrified face and just like usual you kept poking the bear. ‘I only hang out with you cause you’re practically my brother, but the ones that choose to be your friends? I have serious questions for them’

‘And yet here you are, spending your morning with me. The main culprit’

‘Not for much longer, I’m meeting the guys at level up for lunch’ you smiled and he rolled his eyes in annoyance at you.

‘So you used me for my flour and eggs, that’s what I’m getting from this’

‘I wouldn’t even be here if you could just keep it in your pants for five seconds’ you reminded him, giving Ace a quick scratch between the ears before you stood up so you could get going but Mason being Mason had to get a few more digs in.

‘Oh whatever you big dork. Go play with your silly little puzzles then while I fend for myself’

Level Up was a gaming cafe in town and you met up with some friends from uni once a month to catch up and play some games but you mostly went there for the puzzles. There was something you loved about starting with a big pile of nothing and ending with something beautiful. It calmed you but almost made your brain feel alive at the same time so it was worth the teasing from Mason's end even if he did think it made you really uncool.

‘Whatever, Mase’ you mumbled, gathering your stuff up and making your way to the door before he could say anything else to upset you but you already felt like he’d ruined your day.

You managed to forget about him by the time you’d made it to Level Up. Catching up with your friends from uni, forgetting all that had happened that morning and getting lost in what you loved before making your way back home in the early afternoon. Feeling a lot better about yourself than you had that morning.

Your week at work flew by and soon enough it was Friday and you were at your flat with Olivia getting ready for your night out. Thankfully she’s said yes to coming and it had given you something to bond over that week. She too had moved to Manchester from down south after uni and was finding the transition a bit strange so you’d taken her under your wing in hopes you could make some more friends around here besides Mason. As much as you loved him you couldn’t stand to be around him for long periods of time anymore and wanted someone else to hang out with who didn’t make you feel so awful about yourself.

Once the pair of you were ready you set out for a cocktail bar first. Getting a few fancy pre drinks in whilst you chatted over some office gossip and just as you were leaving you posted a few stories to instagram. Seeing straight away that Mason had viewed them and almost as if by magic he was calling you.

‘Is that really what you’re wearing?’ He asked, the question making your heart drop as you looked down at your out outfit. Admittedly it was your usual but you wanted to be a bit comfortable and it was an outfit you’d always felt good in. His comments deflating you immediately and you felt like turning around and going home.

‘What’s wrong with it?’ You asked in a small voice. Wrapping your jacket around you a little bit further and Olivia looked at you with curious eyes but you just gave her a reassuring smile and carried on listening to Mason.

‘I mean it’s fine but like… well that’s it. It’s fine’ he admitted causing you to gulp back the frog in your throat so you didn’t burst into tears. ‘Look I’m trying my hardest here to help you get some but you need to start showing a bit of skin. Like if I’m interested in a girl I wanna see a bit more yeah? You need to advertise what you’ve got on offer or you’ll never get any business.’

‘I’m not looking for business and I certainly don’t want to look like someone you’re interested in’ you hit back, trying to make him hurt a little bit but you knew it was useless. Your comments were like water off a ducks back to him. ‘When I find the right guy he’ll love how I dress’

‘I’m a guy, y/n. We’re all the same’

‘Yeah well I’ve just about had enough of you tonight. I think I’d rather join a nunnery at this point’ you huffed, feeling Olivia tug on your arm as you made it to the door of the club. ‘Were just outside I’ll see you in a sec’

‘Your names on the door, they should just let you through’ he confirmed and once you’d said goodbye you were let in by the doorman who led you over to your section. meeting Mason's eyes almost immediately but his were soon on Olivia and you knew it was about to be a long night. ‘You gonna introduce me then?’

‘Hi to you too’ you quipped, watching him roll his eyes as he pulled you into his side for a quick hug but it was over before you knew it as his eyes settled on Olivia’s legs. ‘Mason this is Olivia, Olivia this is Mason’

‘Hi Olivia, y/n’s told me a lot about you’ he smiled and you knew that smile anywhere. He was about to flirt his little bum off even after you’d told him not too. ‘It's nice to finally meet you’

‘You too, thanks for letting me come’ she smiled sweetly, trying to be polite but you’d already warned her about Mason and his antics and you were hoping she could see right through him.

‘Oh you’re invited anytime’ he winked. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘Oh um… yeah sure, y/n-‘

‘’It’s alright I know her order off by heart’ he winked before nodding her over to the bar where she followed him after giving you a quick wave.

You took this time to go and say happy birthday to Woody, one of Mason's friends you actually liked as he’d been around almost as long as you had but just like you had fallen into the trap of letting him get away with things he probably shouldn’t.

‘What’s wrong?’ He asked, noticing your disgruntled expression fairly quickly but you just sighed before rubbing your head.

‘I explicitly told Mason not to flirt with her but he’s all over her, I can't stand that boy sometimes’ you huffed, motioning over to where he was standing with Olivia. His hand on her back and his eyes on her chest and you heard Woody sigh next to you.

‘You know what he’s like, sees a pair of boobs and forgets all logic’ he tried to joke but you weren’t in the mood.

You could see Olivia looking for you, your eyes meeting after a few seconds where she gave you the ‘help me’ look and you made your way straight over to get her. Gripping Mason's shoulder as you popped yourself in between them and even though you weren’t looking at him you could feel the annoyance radiating off of him.

‘Thanks for the drink Mase, we’re gonna go have a dance’ you interrupted, not missing the way he rolled his eyes at you as he tried to speak again but you’d already pulled Olivia away and onto the dance floor where you were both giggling as you got lost in the crowd.

‘Corr he’s a right flirt, you weren’t joking we’re you’

‘Honestly he should come with a warning label’ you groaned. ‘I’m really sorry, I did tell him to keep it in his pants’

‘Don’t worry about it, it’s quite flattering’ she giggled before wrapping an arm around your shoulders. ‘Let’s just keep it between us, by the looks of things he’s already moved on’ she told you and once you looked around you could see him chatting up some other girl and you decided to leave him to it. Rolling your eyes before you and Olivia got lost in the crowd and danced your little socks off.

When Olivia needed the loo, you let her know you’d go and get the pair of you some more drinks and once at the bar you were ambushed by the man you’d been trying to avoid for the last hour.

‘Thanks for that earlier, you jumped in at the wrong time just as usual’ Mason exclaimed but you just turned to smile at him sweetly and the action caught him off guard.

‘No thank you, for completely ignoring me when I asked you not to flirt with her as she’s seeing someone and I didn’t want to make things awkward at work’ you reminded him but you noticed how he shut his eyes before looking back at you with a smirk and you knew he was about to get nasty.

‘So let me get this straight, Olivia’s been working with you for what, three weeks?’ He commented and his comment surprised you as you didn’t think he’d been listening to you that well whenever you spoke about her but clearly he had.

‘Just about, yeah’

‘And she’s already seeing someone?’

‘I mean it’s not official but-‘

‘So she can find someone… but you’ve been there years and-‘

‘Oh get fucked Mase’ you spat, your blood boiling at what he was trying to say and you had to restrain yourself from throwing the drinks that had just been placed infront of you in his face. Mason had just put them on his tab though and you didn’t want to have to pay for your own so you just balled your fists up and tried to let it wash over you. ‘Are you getting a kick out of being an arsehole to me tonight or something?’

‘I’m just pointing out-‘

‘Well don’t, keep your big nose out of my business’ you told him, cutting him off mid sentence but you knew your comments hadn’t hurt him. Nothing ever did.

‘Low blow, y/n. Low blow. You’re lucky I’m not self conscious about it as I know it comes in handy’ he teased. Licking his lips to insinuate something sexual and you felt the disgust roll through you. ‘Come on, let’s go sit. We’ve barely spoken all night’

‘No, I don’t want to’

‘Hey, don’t be like that’ he frowned, but you were done talking to him tonight and you’d have been quite happy to have a few days' break from him after tonight’s interactions.

‘I’m not being like anything’ you huffed, seeing Olivia coming back out from the loo and you used this as your opportunity to get away from him. ‘Olivia’s back, I need to go’ you told him but you didn’t wait for a reaction. Picking up your drinks and making your way over to her but you weren’t in the mood to be happy anymore.

You found a quiet corner with Olivia so you could sit and bitch for a bit, mostly about Mason but you moved onto the topic of people you didn’t like at work until she opened up about Joe from the IT department who she’d got the eyes for. Apparently they’d hit it off from the first day when he handed her her laptop and she’d been falling for him ever since. Sometimes making up issues and submitting tickets for non-existent problems so they could talk and even though you thought it was cute and you were happy for her, Mason's words from before were playing in your mind.

Why did things like this never happen to you? Why could everyone else find someone but you were forever stuck on the sidelines waiting to be picked. You were used to it now and you told yourself you were over it but there were moments like now when it stung and you didn’t want to think about anything anymore.

If truth be told you didn’t want to even be in this club anymore and when Olivia had to make a call you used the time to your advantage to try and find Mason to let him know you were going. Not that it would have made much difference to him as you’d barely spoken all night but when you made your way back to your section you knew something was off.

‘What’s everyone laughing at?’ You asked as you approached Woody and a few of the other boys. Woody's appearing awkward but you could see all the other boys were loving whatever was happening. ‘Where’s Mason?’

‘Trust me, you don’t wanna know’ one of the guys laughed but you were just confused as to what was happening.

‘What?’ You asked, turning towards Woody in hopes he’d give you a bit more of an answer but you could tell he didn’t want to. An embarrassed and guilty look on his face as you raised your brows at him until he eventually spoke.

‘He’s um, he’s in the loo’ Woody gulped but you didn’t understand what the issue was.

‘Okay?’

‘He’s not alone in there’ he whispered and the realisation hit you like a truck.

‘You’re joking? Please tell me you’re joking’ you whispered back, eyes flying around the room to see if anyone else had caught on but thankfully it was just his little gaggle of yes men that were in on it.

‘Well he didn’t exactly hide it’ Woody told you but before you could say anything else there was movement from the corner of your eye and you could see he was emerging from the disabled loo with a stupid smirk on his face and you felt sick to your stomach.

The boys were laughing louder immediately but all you felt was embarrassment. Embarrassed that he was your friend and he thought this was okay, embarrassed for whatever poor girl he’d taken in there and embarrassed that clearly everyone knew what was going on and he was just fine with it.

You watched him talk to security before coming back over to your section. The boys slapping his back before he tried to wrap an arm around your shoulder but you just shrugged him off as soon as he touched you. Not even bothering to look up at his disgruntled face as your eyes were trained on the where he’d just come from and before long the girl emerged.

You watched her walk over to the man Mason had just spoken to, Mason clearly telling her he’d put her name in the list for your section but you doubt he even knew her name in the first place and you felt awful as she looked around for Mason to let her in. You were on the edge of marching over there yourself and telling them to let her through but you didn’t want to cause more of a scene so you just turned to Mason who was looking at you with an amused grin.

‘Seriously, Mason? I know you clearly don’t give a shit but that’s such an awful thing to do’

‘Oh stop getting your knickers in a twist, it’s not like I fucked her’ he told you matter of factly an you gasped at the way he’d just spoken to you.

‘What?’

‘I mean I’ll spare you the details but let’s just say she took very good care of me’

‘Oh fuck off, I don’t wanna know that’ you told him, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you were trying to block him out but he kept laughing at you like he found the whole thing hilarious.

‘Oh y/n don’t be such a grump’ he laughed. ‘Maybe you should think about getting yourself a bit, hopefully they might be able to pull that stick out your arse’

Mason words cut you deep, and you knew he’d only said it as he was playing on your biggest insecurity but that made it worse somehow. You’d opened up to Mason a few times about how unlucky in love you felt you were, how you never seemed to grab anyone’s attention. You knew he tried to help on nights out sometimes but nothing ever worked and you weren’t as on board with one night stands as Mason so clearly was. You were the definition of a wallflower and as much as you knew you had a lot of love to give the right person you grew more worried day by day that it would never be a reality for you.

You knew your face had dropped, Mason’s too once he’d realised what he’d said and that he’d taken it too far but you refused to show how upset you were, not just by what he’d said but everything that had happened tonight.

‘You’re a right dick sometimes’ you told him quietly, picking your bag up and storming out. You could hear the faint sound of him scoffing behind you but you didn’t have the energy to turn around and berate him anymore. Your eyes already stinging and the sadness rippled over you but you held it together so you could get out the door and sort yourself an Uber out.

You wondered if he might have followed you outside to come and apologise right away but you knew that would never happen. As long as Mason was happy in Mason land he didn’t care what he did or said to anyone else and even though you thought you might have been the exception, that clearly wasn’t the case anymore.

‘Y/n? What are you doing out here?’ You heard, Turing to see Olivia walking over to you with a concerned expression but you just blinked the tears away and gave her a half hearted smile.

‘Just getting some air’ you smiled. ‘Listen, I’m so sorry about tonight. I didn’t realise he was gonna be such an arse’ you apologised but you could see from her face it was all fine and she didn't care.

‘It’s not your fault, yeah? You’re not responsible for him’ she told you and you felt lighter at her words until she gave you a look you couldn't quite place. ‘But please don’t hate me, I’ve just been on the phone to Joe and he’s invited me over. You don’t mind if I go, do you?’ She asked and even though it stung slightly you couldn't blame her. Not when you were on your way home too now.

‘Of course not, don't be silly’ you reassured her, thinking that might be the end of it but the sympathetic smile she gave you made you feel worse somehow.

‘Are you going back in?’

‘I think I might just head home, I’ve had enough of him tonight’ you joked but she knew she could tell there was an air of truth behind it.

‘Don’t let him ruin your night, why don’t you come with me?’ She offered but you just looked back at her in confusion.

‘What? To hang out with you and Joe? I don’t think he’ll be too happy with that’

‘Oh no he’s at a party at his friends house not too far from here, there’s a load of people there and a few from work so you’ll know a load of them’ she explained and the idea of it being more than just the two of them sweetened the deal a bit.

‘I don’t know’

‘Pleeeeeeease. Don’t let that horrible boy upset you, plus I’m not done hanging out with you yet. Mason aside I’ve had fun tonight’ she pouted and you felt your resolve slipping. ‘Come on, I’ll pay for the Uber and everything’

‘Okay fine’ you laughed. Jumping into the car with her when it turned up and you were only ten minutes into being there once you realised what a good choice you’d made. You never hung out with your colleagues outside of work but you had a lot of fun and even made some new friends. The whole experience teaching you that there was more to life than Mason and you made a promise to yourself to take a step back from him for your own sake.

You made it home at around 3am in a taxi with a friend of Joes who’d promised to get you home safely. You’d been talking for most of the night and it was a complete 180 from being with Mason. He made you feel important and heard and when he kissed you cheek at your front door you felt your knees wobble. You blamed it on the drink and being so touch starved but once your were inside you realised how much of a good time you’d had without Mason once more.

The constant fear of what he was going to say or do next, the need to clean up his mess that inevitably always came and the growing embarrassment that came from being around him was getting you down. All you could think about was a break from him and If truth be told you needed a break from everything at this point so made a mental note to book some time off of work for a little break now the weather was getting nicer to go and see your auntie in Spain as a little something to look forward too.

You’d seen Mason had text you a few hours ago. Wondering where you’d gone and to text him back but you left it. Not wanting to talk to him right now so you got undressed and got into bed so you could wait for the inevitable hangover in the morning.

It was 8am when you woke up and knew your phone was going off every few minutes but you ignored it, not in the mood for whoever it was and when you hadn’t received a text for a while you had a quick Look I see they were all from Mason.

You didn’t believe his empty threats, ignoring everything he’d written and rolling over onto your other side so you could get back to sleep and thankfully it came easily as you were still so exhausted. He could work things out for himself for one morning surely?

You were expecting your head to be pounding when you next woke up, but you’d never felt it like this before. Never heard it in your ears so intensely or heard your name being called over and over until you realised it wasn’t what you thought and when you recognised Mason's voice you groaned into your pillow.

‘Y/n! Are you in there?’ You heard him call. Hoping you could just ignore him and he’d go away but Mason being Mason didn’t let up. ‘Right I’ve not heard or seen you since last night, I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing so I’m calling the police’

‘Oh fuck off’ you huffed, storming out of bed in just your underwear and a tiny T-shirt so you could tell him off, watching Masons head snap up when you opened the door and you didn’t miss the way his eyes trailed all over you.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ You spat, pulling him inside and slamming the door shut before turning to face him with a furious glare. He was looking straight back at you the same way though and you’d never seen him so mad in all the years you’d known him.

‘Are you kidding me? What the fuck are you doing? Why are you ignoring me?’

‘Are you being serious right now?

‘Completely. And can you go and get dressed you freaking me out’ he remarked but you just placed your hands on your hips and made him look at you.

‘No I can’t’ you told him and you knew he wasn't comfortable with you standing there in next to nothing so you used it to your advantage. ‘You were awful to me last night Mason, I mean you’ve not been nice for a while but last night tipped me over the edge’

‘What did I do?’

‘What didn’t you do!’ You exploded, seeing him visibly jump as he wasn’t expecting it but you just kept going, releasing all the pent up aggression and anger he’d made you feel lately and you could feel the tears stinging behind your eyes. ‘You’re so rude about me, about the way I dress and just how I am. I told you specifically not to go near Olivia and you did. Not to mention that poor girl you used in the toilet, I take it she wasn’t the same girl you took home last?’

‘Well no but-‘

‘I just, I don’t like what you’re turning into and I’m not gonna sit by and watch it happen anymore so if you still want me around you need to fix up and fix up fast’

‘You can’t tell me what to do’ he scoffed, the playfulness he usually spoke at you with now completely vanished and you had a feeling deep in your tummy that this wasn’t going to end well yet you carried on.

‘Well if you carry on like this then I’m out Mason. I don’t wanna surround myself with you and the people you hang out with anymore’

‘Oh you thought… oh that’s hilarious’ he laughed, clutching his tummy like you’d just told him the funniest joke in the world. ‘You actually think I care if you don't wanna talk to me anymore? That I’d care if I upset you? You really think telling me that is gonna make me change? Get real y/n, we’re not 13 anymore’

‘What?’ you breathed, his words feeling like a punch in the gut as he stared down at you and as much as you were trying to be the bigger person in this and make him see how awful he was being, you felt awfully small.

‘Well let’s face it, it’s not like we’re even from the same universe at this point and everything I do you take the wrong way’ he told you and you could feel yourself shrinking as he turned the tables. Bracing yourself to feel his full wrath as you knew he didn’t like being told off ‘You’re so uptight, y/n and is it any wonder why?’

‘You don’t have to get so personal all the time’

‘But you’re allowed to? You’re allowed to have a go at me cause I fuck around a bit and actually enjoy my life rather than play kids games and and make out I’m holier than thou? Just cause no one’s ever found you attractive doesn’t mean anyone else isn’t allowed any fun’

You never thought he could be this mean. His words from last night paled into comparison from what he was saying now and you unconsciously wrapped your arms around yourself as he tore you to shreds.

‘You know I tried to be a good friend, I tried my hardest to find you someone but you throw it back in my face everytime. Not that I think it would have mattered anyway cause they all tell me you’re too stuck up for your own good. No ones ever gonna want you y/n, cause you make it fucking impossible’

‘I've never been good enough for you have I?’ You whispered, watching the muscle in his jaw flex as a single tear rolled down your cheek, but his face remained hard as you tried to let him know how you felt no matter how heartbroken you were. ‘You know I always thought it was a bit of fun and teasing, you calling me a nerd or whatever but actually don’t like me, do you? But I’m good enough when you need me, I’m good enough to come over and kick out whatever girl you need kicking out. Good enough to cook for you and get you everything you need’ ’

‘Oh fuck off, y/n’ he spat, looking away from you and trying to make his way to the door. ‘You think I need you that much? Have a laugh, I only kept you around cause you came in handy sometimes’ he laughed, trying his hardest to hurt you and even though it was working you could see in his eyes he didn’t mean it. ‘People leave me all the time, why should I give a shit if you do too?’

‘Mase-‘

‘Nah it’s fine, I’ll go. Sorry for giving a shit about you, I know not to do that again. Don’t worry I won’t be back’

You knew exactly what he was doing. He was being defensive because you were upset with him and he wanted to make you feel bad too. You knew he could be mean but never like this and when he slammed your door in your face you stood there for a few moments just taking it all in. Replaying all the awful things he’d said to you before walking like a zombie back to bed and hiding under the covers so you could let a few tears out but not many came. Too in shock at hurt about what he’d said to form any real emotions but as the days went on you felt worse and worse about yourself.

Three weeks went by and you didn’t hear a peep from him. Wondering if maybe you should message him first but after a day you realised he was the one that messed up and you didn’t want to be running after him. He’d completely disappeared from online and you’d even had a cheeky look on some of his update accounts to see if he’d been spotted anywhere but it was just the usual training pictures and nothing more.

It was difficult, getting angrier as the days went by before sadness took its place. He was your best friend and had been for years but you hated everything he’d become and you weren't about to push your boundaries to accommodate him anymore. Not after all the awful things he’d said to you either that wouldn’t stop plaguing your mind.

You’d never felt as ugly as you did right now. His words had hit home as it was things you’d always thought about yourself but to hear them actually vocalised from the person who you thought you meant a lot to stung in a way nothing else ever had. Realising maybe you would be on your own for a long time as there clearly was something wrong with you and as the days passed the harder you cried.

Cried for the friendship you once had, cried for the words he’d spat in your face and cried for how awful you felt about yourself and how lonely you were night after night as you rarely spoke to anyone in fear of your emotions taking over now.

You tried to let it go, carrying on as normal but you could tell Olivia knew something was up. Letting you know she was there for you when you needed but for now you just wanted to wallow a little.

You were sat at home getting lost in a new true crime documentary when you felt your phone ring. Glancing down to see Mason's picture filling up your screen and you instantly froze. Too panicked to answer as you didn’t know what you’d say to him right now so you just stared down at the screen until the call ended. Anxious to see if he would call you back at all but he didn’t and you presumed it was a mistake until the next day when a text came through from him on your lunch break.

What did he want?

You presumed it was to apologise but at this point you didn’t want to hear it. He’d done and said enough and you were still getting over most of it so to have him back in your life seemed counter intuitive.

So you left him on read and forgot about him. Spending your lunch break with Olivia and Joe but by the time you were back at your desk he was all you could think about. His text had left a weird feeling in your tummy and you felt a little bad about knowing he wanted to presumably apologise but you wouldn't let him but what you’d said was true. You really weren’t ready just yet.

Sandra was a person you considered your work mum. A slightly older woman who worked on reception and was the smiling face that always greeted you every morning but she was also the woman you went to for advice and to have a moan to. She’s never judged you or told you what to do but it was nice getting an opinion from someone so wise so knowing you were going to see her filled you with a calmness you hadn’t felt in a while.

‘They’ve not got your favourite left, but I got you a kitkat’ you smiled as you approached the reception desk, noticing Sandra was looking back at you with an awkward smile that confused you until you looked to your left and were met with the brown eyed boy you’d been avoiding. ‘Mason? How did you even get in here?’

‘I let him in’ Sandra smiled, looking over at Mason with a wink and you could see him send her an appreciative smile as he made his way closer to you. Only then clicking the giant bunch of pink and white tulips in his arms and your chest felt tight at the sight of them.

‘You shouldn’t have done that’ you told her lowly, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear but Sandra had other ideas and brought him into the conversation.

‘Oh come on y/n, how can you say no to that face’ she pouted, tilting her head over to him and once you looked back at Mason his usual cheeky smile adorned his lips as he playfully batted his eyelashes at you. ‘You need to talk to him anyway’

‘No I don’t, what’s he told you?’ you argued back. You purposefully hadn't told Sandra anything about what was going on with Mason as you were embarrassed and wanted to deal with it on your own but you should have known she’d find out eventually. Mothers always do.

‘That you won’t talk to him and that he wants to tell you how sorry he is’

‘Well he can tell me that himself’ you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest before you heard him not so subtly coughing. Looking up to find him glancing between the pair of you like he was reminding you he was still there.

‘I would if you gave me a chance’ he laughed before shyly nodding over to the sofa where guests usually waited. Silently asking you to come with him so you could talk a bit more privately and you reluctantly walked over after a beat. Watching Mason pluck a flower from the bouquet in his arms to give to Sandra as a thank you and you almost cracked a smile at how she blushed when she took it. The pair of them whispering a little before he turned to face you and he walked over like a naughty school boy.

‘Do we have to do this now?’ You asked. Not wanting to have this conversation with him here and now but since you’d been avoiding him you hadn’t given him many other options and you could tell from the way he was looking at you he was determined to speak with you.

‘Yes, we do. You’re ignoring me and left me no choice’

‘Can you just be quick?’ You asked, not wanting to air your dirty laundry in the reception where Sandra could quite easily hear everything and even though you felt bad he’d put the effort in to come and see you, you were practically turning him away.

‘Y/n-

‘Please, Mase. I’m at work’

‘Fine, I’ll go’ he huffed and the heartbroken look on his face made your tummy churn. ‘Only if you agree I can come over later and apologise properly’ he told you but you didn’t agree straight away and you could see he was getting desperate. ‘Y/n please’

‘Okay fine’ you sighed, nodding your head as you knew it would have to be done sooner or later and since he was making the effort you thought you should cut him some slack. His face softened immediately before his eyes fell to the flowers in his hands that he passed to you in with a shy smile

‘These are for you, your favourite’

‘Thank you’ you whispered, taking them carefully and you knew your face was turning red as you held them to your chest. This was the first bunch of flowers anyone had ever bought you and you could feel your eyes welling up at the fact he’d remembered your favourite ones.

‘Well it’s the least you deserve’ he nodded but you didn’t know what to say to him, standing there awkwardly until he coughed. ‘What time will you be home?’

‘Around six’

‘Okay well, maybe I could bring us some food over and we’ll talk’

‘Okay’ you whispered, nodding gently before looking down as you were so overwhelmed with emotions.

He didn’t say anything after that, just touched your arm and planted a quick kiss on your forehead before walking back over to Sandra so he could sign out of the visors book. His action confused you as he never showed you signs of affection aside from the occasional hug so the kiss only made you blush even more. Giving yourself a few seconds to calm down before eventually joining them at the desk.

‘Leaving so soon? Sandra pouted as Mason approached her and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the way she was so clearly wrapped around his finger already.

‘Yeah, this one wants me gone’ he teased, signing his name in the box but Sandra just threw you a disappointed look and you felt awful instantly.

‘Oh y/n’ she tutted before looking back at Mason with doe eyes. ‘If it were up to me I’d let you stay’

‘And that’s why you're my number one girl’ he told her. Flashing her his killer smile and sending her wink before turning back to you. ‘I’ll see you later, okay?’

You didn’t answer, just nodded before he left with a sad smile and as soon as he was out the door you felt Sandra’s eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

‘I tell you what, if I was 30 years younger that boy would be in serious trouble’ she told you, fanning herself with a sheet of paper from her notebook and you felt your resolve crack instantly.

‘God sake Sandra’ you laughed. It was clear that Mason was a hit with the ladies but you didn’t know he’d have this hold over someone like Sandra.

‘What’s he done? Is it really that bad or are you just making him sweat?’ She asked casually, the need to spill your guts to her was as overwhelming as ever but something was telling you to keep it under wraps until things with him were sorted so you didn’t say anything you might regret.

‘He’s not been the best for a while but we had a massive argument a few weeks back after he pushed everything a bit too far so we’ve not spoken in a while’

‘I’d just kiss and make up if I were you, he’s too pretty to be mad at’ she teased and you knew you were blushing again. This time out of sheer awkwardness.

‘It’s not like that, Sandra. He’s my best friend, nothing more, okay? No kissing or whatever else you think might be going on’

‘I’m not sure about that’ she mused ‘He doesn’t look at you like a friend’

‘That’s cause he’s trying to get on my good side probably’

‘Hmmm, we’ll see’ she winked but you didn’t want to listen anymore. Quickly making your way back to your desk so she couldn’t try and marry you off to your best friend but you could feel everyone’s eyes on you as you walked through with your flowers. Even Olivia sent you a curious look but you motioned that you’d text her later to explain.

You couldn’t focus for the rest of the afternoon. Mason's flowers that were sitting on your desk were a constant reminder that you’d have to see him later and you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him yet, if ever. Everything he’d said to you and the way he’d made you feel was still fresh in your mind and you knew they would take a while to recover from.

You were sick and tired of forgiving him for the cycle to start over again but you couldn’t deny you missed him. Yes things had gotten way out of control but you missed your movie nights and catch ups. You even missed making breakfast together after you’d kicked another girl out for him but you knew it all had to stop. He was a man now and able to look after himself and that’s what you wanted to tell him.

You weren’t expecting him to be on time, he never usually was, but at quarter past six there was a knock on your door. He was earlier than you thought he’d be and when you answered he stood there looking as guilty as ever with a few pizza boxes in his hands and you sent him a small smile before nodding him in.

‘Come in, you whispered, walking him into your living room so he could set the pizza down on the coffee table and take a seat but the only choice you had was to sit next to him as you could only fit a small sofa in here. Your flat wasn’t the biggest in the world and Mason always told you he’d pay for you to live somewhere nicer but it was time like these you were glad he didn’t. Not knowing what might happen if things went up in smoke.

‘Can I talk first? I’ve just been thinking about what I wanna say for days and I don’t wanna mess it up’ he asked you but you just nodded. Not sure what you wanted to say yourself yet so you figured you’d sit and listen to what he wanted to say first.

‘That’s fine’ you whispered, watching him get settled in his seat before launching into his monologue.

‘Okay well, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for everything’ he gulped ‘I know I’ve been the biggest dick and I’ve hurt you but I really am sorry and I’m gonna prove it to you if you’ll let me’ he confirmed and you felt his words swimming through your veins. Never once had you heard him like before let alone hear the words I’m sorry come out of his mouth and look like he meant it.

‘Last time I saw you, when I went off on one, I was just hurt that you’d called me out and I wanted to get you back for it. I know that’s childish and stupid but you hit home with everything you said and I couldn’t take it’ he told you. Clasping his hands together as some form of distraction as he spoke and you knew he was trying his best to hold it together.

‘You’ve always been there for me, you know? You’ve always done things for me that you shouldn’t have and you’ve stuck up for me when you didn’t need to but I’ve surrounded myself with the complete wrong people who don’t care about me. They’re looking for a good time and never tell me no so I thought it was great, but not having you around has just made me realise they’re not the sort of people I need in my life, yeah? You’re what I need’

His strangled voice was pulling at your heartstrings but no matter what he was saying you didn’t want to jump right in and accept his apology. There was so much you wanted to say and that you needed him to know about how he’d treated you. You could see he was sorry and it was evident that he was hurt but if you didn’t want to let him off easy, you wanted him to understand exactly how you were feeling and leave nothing unsaid so you could move away from it and hopefully move on.

‘Please say something’ he gulped, wanting to hear something from you straight away but you knew as soon as you started you wouldn't be able to stop.

‘Thank you for apologising, it really does mean a lot to me that you came here but i'm really hurt Mase and I’m not really sure what to say’ you told him. Your voice sounding thick no matter how hard you tried to hold the tears in and you watched the heartbreak on his face as he saw you get upset.

‘It just sucked, I guess. To feel like you only ever called me when you needed me, like to get rid of someone or if I fit into your plans. Just felt like you didn’t give a damn about me ever. I’ve never said anything or judged you about the way you acted, not until recently at least, cause we’re friends but maybe I should have. Like just told you no a couple of times but I just felt so small to you and that it wouldn’t make a difference’

You could tell he wanted to speak, to let you know that it was all untrue and that he cared about you more than anything but he didn’t butt in. He let you speak and gave you your time to get everything out you needed to and it was more therapeutic than you thought it would be.

‘You know I remember the last time I knew I couldn’t count on you anymore. It was my last year at uni and I had an evening class so I could present my final project but all the trains were messed up and I had to walk there in the end through the rain’ you sniffed and when you looked at him you knew he knew what night you were talking about. ‘It took me just under an hour and I was late in the end so I got docked points and had to make it up with some extra credit but I called you. I called you and you said you were sorry but you were stuck in an important meeting and you couldn’t get out of it’ you hiccuped and it’s like he didn’t want to hear any more. His hands covering his eyes as he shook his head from side to side but you kept going. ‘But then when I got home and I just wanted someone to talk to and rant to there were pictures of you plastered online with some random girl in your lap and I knew you’d lied to me’

‘I’m sorry’ he blubbed, looking up at you with red eyes and a wobbly bottom lip but even that didn’t stop you from carrying on. The words pouring out from your mouth like a waterfall as years of hurt made their way to the surface.

‘You made me feel so worthless when I’ve stuck around since day dot. You always spout about his family is everything to you but I thought that included me? And I felt like I never meant a thing’

‘You did- you do. You mean everything to me I swear. Please please don’t say that it kills me’ he sobbed before finally reaching for you. Pulling you into his body and you let yourself hide in his neck as the tears fell from your eyes. ‘I was a dick for no reason and you’re the last person I should have taken anything out on. You’re right, I was disgusting and I didn’t care about anyone else and you were the first person I actually cared about who told me no and I couldn't take it’

‘You really hurt me’

‘I know I did and I can't tell you how sorry I am’ he cried. ‘I know I’m not easy to be around or easy to keep up with but you’ve always been there and I took you for granted. I honestly didn’t see what I was doing wrong cause no one ever told me, like everyone just let me do what I wanted but I get it now, I really do. I was just so caught up in having a good time and not thinking about the consequences so I took things too far. I know I’m probably out of second chances but I need to ask again cause I can’t lose you’

Your silence was deafening for him and you knew he wanted some sort of answer from you. Eventually sitting up and making you look at him and even though he looked panicked his voice was calm as he carried on speaking.

‘I’m a fuck up okay? I know I am and I know the last thing you probably want or need is me coming back into your life to cause you more stress again but this massive fuck up has misssd you so so much’

You couldn’t stop the little chuckle that fell from your lips. The sound making him smile too before he took your hands in his.

‘I’m sorry for embarrassing you, I’m sorry for all the lies I’ve told and all the horrible shit I’ve said about you and I’m sorry for the constant 8am wakeup calls on a Saturday cause I can’t control myself. I know how to behave and I know what I need to do so I’ll just do it yeah? No more calling you up to kick girls out for me cause they won’t be there in the first place. You need me and I’ll do whatever I can to get there for you and do exactly what you do for me everyday. These few weeks without you have been awful and I’m sorry it took us getting to this point to make me see but I’d rather get rid of everyone in my circle if it meant I got to keep you’ he confirmed as he squeezed your hands a bit tighter. ‘What do you say, huh? Do you think we could work something out?’

‘I mean, you’re right. It probably is the last thing I need’ you started, watching his head sink as his eyes fell to his lap but you just considered it a tiny bit of payback for now. ‘But I can’t lie and say that I haven’t missed you too,’ you told him. Voice wobbling at the end as your emotions took over and you could see he was also finding it hard to take. ‘But I miss the old Mason, I miss my friend’

‘I’m still here I promise. Just give me a chance and I’ll show you I’m still in here’

‘Please don’t make me regret it’ you whispered but you didn’t have a chance to say anything else. Mason bundling you into his arms and the feeling of his arms around you settled you more than anything else had and when he pulled back to smile at you, you felt your heart flutter in your chest. ‘Just because you’ve apologised doesn’t mean things can go back to the way they were. I might need some time’

‘I know, I don’t want that either. I’m gonna prove to you how much I’ve changed and we’ll go at your pace. I just needed to apologise and that’s whether you accepted it or not, but I really would love it if you did’

‘I do’ you told him, your face crumpling once again but he was quick to wrap you up and comfort you once again.

Over the next few weeks he was an angel, giving you the space you needed but also checking in when he could. Things felt normal but so different at the same time and the relief of having your friend back was overwhelming. It was two weeks later when you next saw him in person though, Mason messaging you early Friday evening to see what you were up to the next day but you weren’t expecting his response.

The fact he was offering to drive was tempting. You hated lugging heavy bags on the train and the fact the prospect of food was involved was even more appealing but you hadn’t hung out like this in a long time even before your big fight. Mostly because he was always busy but also because you’d just silently grown apart in that way. Mason liked getting his own way and him doing things for other people didn’t fall into that category.

You had a lot to do and the last thing you needed was him getting bored and rushing you round before spending an afternoon with him trying to annoy you. You knew it was mean but you wanted to put him off a little bit so you could shop in peace but you didn’t want him to think you were still mad at him and didn’t want to hang out.

His message made your heart sink. He really was trying and you knew he wanted more opportunities to prove himself but before you could think about it anymore he was messaging you again to try and convince you even more and you couldn’t deny him this time.

When 9 rolled around the next morning he was there. Standing by his car as he opened the door for you after a quick hug and you promised yourself you’d try and be positive about today and give him a chance to prove himself if that’s what he really wanted.

‘You eaten?’ He asked as you got bucked in, knowing how hungry you got in the mornings but you always prioritised sleep over eating. You had a little bit of extra time today though so you nodded your head at him but didn’t miss how his face dropped slightly.

‘I had some toast’

‘Oh okay, I um… I picked you up one of those juices you like and a pastry but if you don’t want it that’s fine’ he mumbled, looking slightly embarrassed and you felt your heart race at how thoughtful he’d been.

‘Oh… oh no I’ll have it. You know what I’m like, always starving’ you laughed, accepting the little bag and juice he’d picked you up with a smile and you could see how shy he looked. An expression he didn’t usually wear and his soft smile made your heart flutter in your chest. ‘Thank you, Mase’

‘It’s okay’ he whispered, starting the car so he could look away from you and even though the drive was fairly silent with just the low sound of his music playing, you didn’t feel awkward.

‘You coming then?’ You asked as he finished parking, watching his smile light up his face knowing you weren’t going to leave him to sit in the car on his own before he nodded enthusiastically at you.

‘So this trip, is it the usual?’ He asked as you made your way into the main shopping centre and you knew he was referring to where you were going as you visited your auntie in Spain every year.

‘Yeah, it’s just for a few days this time but I really need the break’ you explained and he nodded at you knowingly.

You went to Boots first, Mason holding the basket for you as he followed behind and you filled it with everything you needed. You were about halfway round the shop when you realised something was different, Mason not questioning why you needed everything you put in the basket or making stupid jokes. If anything he was more than helpful, reaching the higher shelves for you and manoeuvring you around the busy aisles by your waist as he knew you hated the crowds.

When it came time to pay, he scanned everything for you while you packed the bag and when you were done he picked it up without any questions so you didn’t have to carry it.

Next on your list was clothes. Wanting to try a few different things on to your usual so you could mix it up a bit and when you had an armful of things to try you turned to Mason with a smile.

‘Will you come into the changing room with me?’

‘What?’ He choked, his eyes going wide immediately as the question sunk in but you just rolled your eyes as you tugged on his wrist.

‘Yeah I need your opinion and I can’t be bothered to keep walking out here every time. I’ll go to one of the family ones so my arse isn’t shoved in your face, don't worry’ you laughed, pushing him inside with you so he didn’t have a choice but you could see the awkwardness on his face. Eventually shifting his eyes to the floor until you bundled him into a cubicle and made him sit on the seat in the corner.

‘I um… what do I-i um’ he mumbled as he set the bags down and you couldn’t help but giggle at his awkwardness. A side of him you hadn’t seen in a while.

‘Oh come on, it’s not like you’ve never seen me in my underwear before’ you laughed thinking back to when you were growing up and to even more recent times like when he showed up at your door and on nights out when he had to put you to bed after one too many but you could see he wasn’t feeling a bit strange so you hung the dresses up on the rail and smiled at him reassuringly. ‘Shut your eyes until I tell you to open them, yeah?’

‘Okay’ he whispered. Shutting his eyes and covering them with his hands as you turned away and picked up the first dress.

It was nothing like you usually wore. Tight and short with a fully cut out back meaning you had to quickly take your bra off to try it on and the thought of wearing it outside these four walls terrified you but you were determined to push yourself out of your comfort zone.

‘You can open them now, what do you think?’ You asked him, watching his eyes adjust to the light for a second before an unreadable emotion took over his face.

‘Oh it’s um… it’s different’ he told you and you couldn't tell if he liked it or not.

‘Well I’ve been thinking about what you said and even though I was pissed at the time and you could have probably worded it nicer I think you were right’ you told him, hands brushing over the short skirt and even though you felt different in it you didn’t feel too uncomfortable. ‘I need to show a bit more skin, you know?’

‘Wait-‘

‘What do boys like more? Bum or boobs? Like what do I need to-‘

‘Wait, stop’ he interrupted, the tone of his voice making you stop in your tracks and turn to him and when he held his hand out to you, you took it carefully. Letting him pull you in between your legs slowly so he could talk to you better but when you felt his fingertips on the backs of your bare thighs your legs turned to jelly.

You didn’t know what it was, that weird feeling pulsating through you at just a simple touch from Mason of all people and the sensation made it feel like you couldn’t get your breath out properly. In the end you had to rest your hands on his chest so you didn’t crumple to the floor and it was like the atmosphere changed within a heartbeat.

His big brown eyes looked dark as he peered up at you through his lashes, the bridge of his nose a deep red and his pouty lips had parted slightly as he tried to control his breathing but it’s like you blinked and the moment was gone. His eyes moving to look at your shoulder now and you moved your hands away from his chest to cross them over your body.

‘Sit down, yeah?’ He whispered, nodding his head to his leg and you sat on his thigh as he caged you in his arms. His face serious as you wondered what he might be about to say to you and you could feel your cheeks getting warm as he looked at you in a way he never had before. ‘You don’t… you don’t need to change the way you look or dress, okay? I was a dick and I shouldn’t have said all that before. It was crap of me and it wasn’t true anyway’

‘But-‘

‘But nothing’ he whispered, cutting you off and you felt your eyes sting as he smiled sweetly at you. ‘You deserve the world, you know that? And you deserve a man who doesn’t care about how much skin you’ve got on show or what your body looks like in what you’ve got on. You want a man who cares about what’s going on in here’ he whispered, tapping your temple lightly before doing the same to the top of your chest. ‘And in here. And yeah it might be a wait but you’ll get there. You don’t have to sell yourself short to dickheads like me who don’t have what you need, okay?’

‘It just gets hard sometimes’ you sniffed, his words hitting you deep in your tummy and you couldn’t stop the tears spilling from your eyes before you felt him pulling you into his body for a cuddle. Your head nestled into his neck as you held onto him for dear life but the feel of his hand stroking up and down your back bare soothed you ever so slightly.

‘I know it does’

‘What’s wrong with me?’ You hiccuped, barely able to hold yourself together at this point but his gentle touches really were helping. You felt safe with him for the first time in a long time and you knew you could tell him anything and it wouldn’t matter. He’d listen and reassure you like best friends are supposed to.

‘Nothing, I promise. Absolutely nothing, you’re perfect okay’ he told you. Speaking the words directly into ear and he sounded so determined and sure of himself that the sound made you shiver. ‘You’re too perfect, maybe that’s the problem. It's dicks like me that have got something wrong with us yeah’ he laughed and you let out a little chuckle before pulling back so you could wipe your eyes. ‘Does everything you picked out look like that?’

‘Yeah’ you laughed, smiling as he caught the tears you missed.

‘Okay well let me go and look for you, I saw a few bits that are more you but just a bit different. You can try those on and see what you think, yeah?’

‘Okay’ you sniffed, not sure about this idea but you were willing to entertain him at this point and when he came back with a few bits you were actually surprised at how much you loved them. Still your style but just a little different and you couldn’t help but give Mason a massive hug at the end.

Once you’d paid, Mason offered to take all the bags back to the car whilst you popped into Primark for underwear and socks and once you were done you met him outside. Your tummy grumbling as it approached lunchtime and he let you pick wherever you wanted to go but you settled on Nando’s as you knew that’s secretly what he wanted and since he’d been good to you that morning you figured you’d be good to him.

You were back at his just after one, leaving your bags in the car but you noticed he’d taken in a white paper bag that you hadn’t seen him with all day and after the pair of you got yourselves a drink and settled on the sofa, he turned to you with a shy smile.

‘Hey, so I got you something’ he told you nervously, producing the white paper bag from earlier from the side of the sofa and you took it from him with a confused grin.

You didn’t ask what it was, just reached in to grab hold of the box and when you finally pulled it out you almost lost your breath. The brightly coloured picture of the northern lights making you smile immediately before you looked up to his nervous face.

‘I wanted to get you one we could maybe do together? I know it’s probably not as big or complicated as you’re used to but I thought we could start me off easy’ he laughed but you were too overcome with emotion to think of anything to say. Never in a million years did you think he’d want to do a puzzle with you let alone buy you one with a picture of the place you’d always wanted to visit the most on it.

‘Can we do it now?’ You asked excitedly. Knowing you had the whole afternoon together to finish it and when his face mirrored yours you felt like jumping up and down.

‘Of course’ he grinned. ‘I’ll clear the coffee table and we can do it there if that’s alright?’

‘That's perfect’ you nodded, hugging the box to your chest as you stood up before touching his arm gently so he’d look at you. ‘Do you mind if I borrow something to wear? I like to be comfy when I’m getting my puzzle on’ you laughed but he just smiled before motioning to follow you to his room. Picking you out a few things to choose from and you settled on a pair of his grey shorts and an oversized T-shirt of his before taking a hoodie down with you just in case you got cold.

Mason got changed too just after you before running into the kitchen to get you both some snacks and drinks whilst you cleared the table and soon enough you were tipping the contense of the box onto the table so you could get started.

‘Right what do we do?’ Mason questioned, the large pile of tiny pieces daunting him quite clearly but you just giggled as you took a seat opposite him.

‘Well I’ll tell you how I do it, so we need to find the corner pieces first, then the edges then we’ll sort the leftovers out by colour and go from there. That sound good?’

‘Okay’ he nodded and you gave him the task of the corners and edges whilst you organised the rest. Only realising then how much of a difficult one this one might be. He was right in saying it was less pieces than you were used to but the picture was complicated and once he’d got all his pieces sorted he looked at you with a confused smile.

‘You realise this is gonna be difficult? And we could be here for a while’ You told him, watching him gulp nervously before looking back at all the pieces.

‘Really? But it’s only 500 pieces. The ones you do are thousands’

‘Yeah but the picture here is complicated, it's just all random colours like there’s no buildings or anything to work from’

‘Oh, shit sorry’ he laughed before shrugging at you. ‘I just know you’ve always wanted to go so I thought you’d like it’

‘No don’t be sorry, I do like it. Love it, in fact. I just don’t want you to get bored or frustrated with it if it takes a while’

‘No it’s okay, I can do it’ he told you. The same determined look you’d seen in his eyes countless times before important games and finals and it made you smile that he was applying the same fight for this.

You let him put some background music on as you worked away. Talking lightly about some plans you both had coming up but it was difficult for Mason to multitask. You could see he was trying his best and had done a lot of work in one of the corners but he couldn’t puzzle and talk like you could and you thought his concentrated face was cute. Often finding yourself just watching him for a few moments until he caught you and sent you a lopsided smile as he blushed.

You ordered food in when the time came. Taking a small break so you could reevaluate how much you’d done before jumping back in and it was approaching 9pm when you finally finished. Mason giving you the last piece to place in as he knew it was your favourite bit before you cheered and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

‘Not bad for something dorks do, huh?’ You giggled but it was like he was frozen. His gaze all over your face before a look of guilt washed over his.

‘You know I never thought you were a dork’ he gulped, wrapping his arms around you tighter and pulling you further into his lap.

‘Mase it’s fine-‘

‘No, cause it’s not’ he shrugged. ‘I never meant it in a malicious way but even playing it’s still not nice so I’m sorry’

‘Thank you’ whispered and after he gave you a quick smile he was looking down at his lap shly again.

‘It’s kinda late, do you maybe wanna stay over? We can have a sleepover like we used to’ he winked and while the idea sounded fun you were also a little unsure.

‘I don’t wanna sleep in your sex bed’ you laughed and the shocked expression on his face made you giggle.

‘Hey, you think I let just anyone go in there? He laughed. ‘I don’t take random girls in there, I take them to the loft room. Well I did at least, I haven’t done that in a while’

‘Why not?’

‘Dunno, just not in the mood? Been too busy begging for your forgiveness’ he teased before his eyes were boring into yours. ‘Please stay’

‘Okay’ you whispered, slightly thankful he’d asked as you didn’t fancy the drive home this late. You were already sleepy and when he tucked you in next to him after he’d put a movie on it didn’t take you long to fall asleep.

The pair of you joked the next morning about who he would call to come and kick you out and you hadn’t felt this normal with him in years. Your Mason was back and you couldn’t be more thankful but again over the next few weeks his behaviour began to change.

It seemed to be going the opposite way though, Mason swapping his devil horns for angel wings and it was like he was getting sweeter by the second.

Every morning you woke up to a good morning text, and every evening he’d text you goodnight. Messaging you throughout the day when he could and even though it was always silly conversations it was like he’d made it his mission to make you smile whenever he could. He was being the best friend he could be and so much more but it was like he was changing his whole life for the better. No more random nights out so he could trap a girl and take her home, no more mean jokes at your expense and you hadn’t heard about his gaggle of yes men in weeks.

You spent all of your free time together. No matter what you were doing or how boring you thought he might have found it he wanted to be there doing it with you.

You knew Mason was always touchy with everyone but he’d never been the same with you. A hand on your shoulder maybe but that was it, however now he couldn’t seem to keep his hands away from you now. Always standing next to you when he could, his hands on your waist or you back or his fingers threaded through yours as you sat and watched tv.

You could feel things changing but you weren’t sure what it was. Wondering if he was just happy you were back but you needed an explanation for the puppy eyes he was sending your way every five seconds that you didn’t understand.

You waited until you’d been to his for dinner one night, letting him load the dishwasher as you got comfortable on the sofa and once he was done he flopped down with his head in your lap as a content hum fell from his lips.

‘What’s gotten into you lately?’ You laughed, massaging his head slightly as he nestled into your lap even further but the action just made you laugh until he was rolling onto his back and looking up at you with a smile that made his eyes crease.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well I know I said I wanted the old Mason back but this is something else’ you winked and you could see his cheeks flush as you called him out for his actions.

‘Well I want you to like me’ he shrugged, sitting up and taking your hand in his and even though he was shy you kept pressing him in hope of some answers.

‘You’re my best friend Mason, of course I like you’

‘What if I more than like you?’ He whispered, so quietly you thought you hadn’t heard it but when your eyes met his you knew he’d said what you thought he had.

‘I don’t understand’

‘I don’t either really’ he laughed, sitting up taller so he could face you and you felt your heart race at what he might be saying. ‘All I know is that things have changed for me and I feel like I need you to know how I feel. It’s fine if you don’t feel it too but I’ve just been feeling these things for you for a few weeks and you’re the person I tell everything to so I feel like I’ve got to tell you now’

‘What things are you feeling?’ You asked. Wondering if you’d maybe got the wrong end of the stick but his next sentence took the breath out of your lungs.

‘Im feeling like I wanna kiss you’ he whispered, barely able to hear him but you knew what he’d said.

What?

You couldn’t speak, and by the looks of it Mason knew he had to keep speaking so you let him squeeze you hand as he word vomited everything he’d been holding in.

‘I just keep having these moments with you, like time stops and I’m in this trance and all I can focus on you and wanting you in a way I’ve never done before. Remember when we did that puzzle? You put that last piece in and you were just so happy like I swear to god all I wanted to was kiss your face off’ he laughed but you couldn’t believe what he was saying. Not sure how to react as no one had ever said anything like this to you let alone your best friend.

‘Mase I- I don’t think I-‘

‘It’s okay’ he smiled. ‘I said it’s fine if you don’t’ he smiled and even though him saying it made you feel better, you could tell he was a little embarrassed. Wondering if you should make a joke to ease the tension and as he looked away you began to speak without even thinking.

‘I know you said you weren’t in the mood for girls but you must be really desperate if you’re thinking about kissing me’ you laughed, trying to ease the tension slightly but he just smiled at you and shrugged.

‘I wouldn't go that far. But it’s honestly fine, we’ve been spending a lot of time together and I’ve probably got all mixed up. I’m sure it’s just a phase and it’ll pass’ he laughed. ‘Just forget it, it’s fine and I don’t want things to be weird’

But how could you forget?

No one in your entire existence had ever admitted having feelings for you. It was something you never thought would happen yet here was your best friend telling you he felt like he wanted to kiss you.

It was like a switch had suddenly gone off in your brain, over the coming weeks finding yourself daydreaming about kissing him too and what it might be like to be his girl. Thinking about how his hand would feel clasped in your own, his fingers linked in between yours or just how his touch would feel anywhere and everywhere on your body.

You shook yourself out of it at first, like you were waking yourself up from a nightmare and you couldn’t comprehend how your brain had conjured up such a strange image but as the days went on you basked in it. Giggling as you dreamed about all the things you could do together and how happy you could be.

The pair of you had always been platonic, and whilst lately the lines maybe had become a bit blurred as he became touchier with you with the added time you spent together, your thoughts about him lately were anything but platonic.

Everytime you shut your eyes all you could see was his soft smile and the way his eyes creased at the sides so adorably. The dimple on his cheek made your heart race and all you could think about was taking him up on his offer and planting your lips on his. It wasn’t just his smile though, it was everything. His chocolate chip eyes you wanted to drown in, his smell that made you feel like home and his arms that made you feel safer than anything else.

Everything seemed to be hitting you like a truck and you felt ridiculous. Waiting for his name to pop up on your phone constantly and the butterflies only intensified with each new message. Finding yourself sat giggling in anticipation of what he was going to say next and going to bed with a huge smile on your face every night.

You never meant to fall for him, much like he probably never meant to fall for you, but it had happened and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Feeling like a schoolgirl with your first crush and the fact you knew it was reciprocated somewhat excited you and filled you with dread at the same time.

The more you thought about him, the sillier you started to feel. He never offered to be your boyfriend, never said anything about dates or anything extra. He’d said he wanted to kiss you, and that was it.

The words just a phase rang through your ears constantly and as the days went by you realised you didn’t want to be just a phase to him. Disappointment flooding you at him trying his best to curb his feelings whilst yours only grew for him.

You’d noticed he’d pulled back from you a little bit, trying his hardest not to talk to you every minute of the day but you didn’t let him ignore you for too long. Now you were in your feels all you could think about was him and when you might next get to see him. Not wanting to look too eager and alert him to the fact anything had changed but when he text you one evening you felt your excitement levels rise.

You decided to wear one of the dresses he’d picked out for you for your holiday and gave yourself enough time to do your makeup nicely and straighten your hair. You didn't know why you wanted to, or maybe you did, but it was the first night out where he wasn’t trying to set you up with one of his friends and you felt more relaxed about it. That was until he text you that he was on his way and you felt like throwing up.

It's like the words were stuck in his throat as soon as he saw you, frozen to the spot as you locked your door behind you and you could see him visibly gulp as he tried to shake it off and say hello to you properly.

It was one of the weirdest nights out you’d ever been on, the pair of you turning up together and he led you to your section by your hand. Once he’d found you both seats next to each other he was off to the bar to get you a drink with his eyes not leaving you for me more a few moments before he was back with you.

Things only got weirder though as he paid no attention to any of the girls looking his way, not even engaging in conversation with most of the girls the boys would introduce to him and when you tried to question him about it he just shrugged and said he wasn’t in the mood.

‘Hey y/n, have you met Ethan?’ Woody asked as he nodded someone over. A tall guy with dark hair and bright blue eyes making his way over to you and you rolled your eyes at his clear attempt to set you up with another one of his friends after you’d told him to stop but the feeling of Mason dropping your hand from under the table that made you turn away to look back at him.

He didn’t say anything, just gave you what looked like a sad smile before you had to turn back to say hello to Ethan. Woody banging on about how he came from Portsmouth just like you and Mason and how they’d gone to primary school together but now Ethan was in the Navy hence why you’d never seen him but he was back for a little while to visit.

You didn’t know what possessed you to do it, but you felt weird now Mason's hand wasn’t in yours. Looking down to see it was resting on his thigh so as carefully and as sneakily as you could you laced your fingers back through his and squeezed it gently. Not acknowledging him in any way but you could see his head snap up to look at you from the corner of your eye before his other hand fell over your clasped ones. Fiddling with your rings as the others spoke and you tried not to smile at how adorable he was being.

All the thoughts you’d had about having more with Mason that week, he was making a reality tonight. Giving you glimpses of what it might be like to to be his and how he might treat you but you were still so unsure as to what he wanted as he told you he was just a phase he was getting over so you played dumb for little.

‘You wanna dance?’ You asked him, tugging on his hand gently but he just scrunched his face up slightly.

‘I’m good, you go I’ll watch you’ he smiled and whilst the thought of him watching you dance thrilled you a little bit, you also could tell he wasn’t on his a game and looked like he didn’t even want to be there at all anymore.

‘Are you okay? You don’t seem as into it as usual’

‘I’m fine’ he shrugged ‘Dunno just not in the mood to be around loads of people i guess’

‘We can leave if you want? I mean it’s way past my bedtime anyway’

‘We can, but I’ve got one condition’ he told you with a smile, leaning closer so he could talk right in your ear and you felt every hair in your body stand to attention.

‘What’s that?’

‘Come stay at mine?’ He whispered and his offer made you freeze. ‘I’ll make you breakfast in the morning’

‘Okay’ you whispered, letting him take your hand and lead you out but you were surprised he didn’t want to say goodbye to anyone first. Only giving Woody a quick wave who gave the pair of you a look you couldn't quite make out before you were jumping in a cab back to his.

Part of you was happy he wanted to get home earlier than usual, it had been a long week and once you were changed into an oversized T-shirt of his you got settled on your side of his bed. Hazily watching him slip under the covers in just a pair of boxers as you tried to hide a smile and thankfully he didn’t catch it.

‘Go to sleep love, you look exhausted’ he laughed, tucking the duvet around you a little more tightly. ‘I’ve just got a few emails to look through okay but I’ll be quite’

‘That’s fine, Night Mase’

‘Night love’ he whispered and you turned onto your side away from him so you could get comfy and hopefully drift off soon.

Your whole body felt like a dead weight, your eyes feeling like they’d been stuck together with glue but your mind wouldn’t shut off and you knew you would be thinking about Mason and replaying most of the night you’d just spent together. Remembering the way he held your hand, held your waist and spoke directly into your ear like you were his made your spine tingle. But the memories were soon becoming warped and disfigured as your brain became tired and you eventually let the sleep take you.

You hadn't been asleep long, but the feeling of Mason's arm sliding around your waist as he cuddled up to you woke you slightly. Not enough to wake you up fully and the warmth of his body pressed against yours was already sending you back to sleep so you just went with it and let him hold you. Revelling in the soft kisses he was pressing to your shoulder as you tried not to smile but you definitely weren't ready for what was about to happen next.

‘What am I gonna do with you, eh?’ He whispered, only just loud enough for you to hear but you knew you shouldn’t be. He obviously thought you were still asleep and couldn’t hear him so you stayed as still as you could and kept your breathing steady in hopes he’d carry on. ‘I’d do absolutely anything for you, you know that? And I’m really trying to get over you but you make it so difficult’

I don’t want you to get over me was the first thought in your head but you didn’t vocalise it. You wanted him to keep talking, to see what else he could admit to your semi unconscious state and luckily enough for you he kept going.

‘I know I said it was just a phase but I’m not so sure it is now. You’re the only person who knows the real me and wants what’s best for me. I can’t get you out of my head’

You waited for more, but it never came. Soon enough his soft snores filled the room and you knew he was asleep but his admissions were enough for you. You knew how he felt, and you were pretty sure you felt the same now but you weren’t sure if you had the balls to do anything about it right now so you followed his lead and shut your eyes so you could let the sleep take you again.

Mason was still asleep when you awoke. The pair of you facing each other as you’d turned in your sleep and you used the time he was asleep just to look at him. His pouty lips and pink cheeks made your tummy flutter and after what you’d heard last night all you could think about is what to say to him this morning.

He didn’t give you too much longer to think about it though and you felt your heart thump as he stirred awake. His eyes opening softly as they latched onto yours but his expression remained unchanged asides from a small smile. Just looking back at you as you did the same to him and a sense of peace washed over you.

The pair of you were both on the edge of your own respective pillows, as close as you could be without touching one another but the moment felt intimate and you could see the love in his eyes for you as you watched each other bathed in the early morning sun. The light bringing out the golden tones in his hair and the honey hues in his eyes, it hitting you right there that your best friend was probably the most gorgeous boy you’d ever laid eyes on.

You both didn’t move for a while. Content with just looking at the person in front of you and thinking how thankful you were that you got a chance to wake up next to them and you knew this was only ending one way. You were nervous to say the least, but after everything you’d heard last night you were pretty sure you were on the same page and he’d welcome what you were about to give him.

It was you that made the first move. Not even sure as to why you did it but you lent forward slowly, watching how his body mirrored your own as you kept going and both your eyes snapped away from one another. Focusing on the others lips now and just as your hand reached out to touch his chest for a bit of support, your lips finally locked and his hand cupped your jaw immediately.

It wasn’t a soft kiss like you thought it might be, Mason stole the breath from your lungs as soon as it hit him what was happening. Pushing himself forward so he could hover over you and control the kiss a bit more but you moved your hand to the back of his head so he wouldn’t part from you.

Your tummy was erupting with butterflies, your chest heaving as he slipped his tongue in your mouth and you couldn’t help but press yourself into him further. Letting him grip your thigh as he hitched it up his body and you were quite happy to get lost in him but it was Mason that pulled back. Kissing over your cheeks until you were giggling and when he eventually pulled back his smile made your heart melt.

He was quick to settle back down next to you. Pulling your body right up against his and keeping your thigh wrapped around his waist before you felt his hand on your lower back so he could tickle your skin lightly.

‘Sorry’ you whispered, suddenly feeling embarrassed about what you’d done but his gentle smile relaxed you.

‘Don’t be, I don’t mind’ he smiled. Pecking your lips again softly and you knew you were blushing. ‘You know I’ve been wanting to kiss for a while but I didn’t wanna push things too far’ he smiled ‘and it’s not that I don’t want to ever, but I don’t want you to regret anything right now’

‘I wouldn’t have’ you whispered, watching his face soften slightly but deep down you knew it was for the best. You still didn’t know what any of this meant and it was clearly obvious to Mason you were worried as he brushed some strands of hair out of your face and gave you a sympathetic smile.

‘What is it, love? What’s on your mind’

‘I just… I’m not sure, like what does all of this mean?’ You breathed. Watching his eyes light up as you finally spoke your mind. ‘Your my best friend Mason, I don’t want to lose you’

‘You won’t’

‘But I need to know what you want. Is it just a kiss? Like are we done now?’ You laughed, trying to keep it light as it was a pretty serious conversation but the smile on his face relaxed you.

‘No, I’m definitely not done with you’ he told you sincerely. ‘I get us being friends complicates things a little bit but I’m not the guy you think I am, not anymore at least anyway and definitely not when it comes to you’

‘I feel like I’m not enough for you’ you whispered, finally addressing the elephant in the room and you could tell your words had upset him a little bit. The frown on his face was adorable but you wanted him to know how you felt no matter how awful it sounded.

‘Don’t say that’ he huffed, kissing your jaw gently. ‘Tell me why so I can tell you it’s rubbish’

‘No because what if I can’t give you everything those other girls have?’ You laughed even though you were trying to be serious. ‘Like I don't wanna be a dick but you’ve always said you’d never be a one woman guy so what’s changed. What if your eyes wander somewhere else? What do I do then?’

You didn’t mean for it to come out so abruptly but Mason knew you never minced your words and didn’t take it too badly. He knew his past and he owned it but he also knew it was his feelings for you that had changed him and he was willing to say whatever he could to get you on board.

‘Remember the day we did the puzzle together, and I said I hadn’t slept with anyone in a while cause I wasn’t in the mood? Well that wasn’t the reason. I didn't know it then fully but I hadn’t because all I wanted was you and the thought of being with anyone else made me feel weird’ he told you. His fingers delicately tracing patterns on your back as he spoke and you knew you were hanging off his every word. ‘At first I thought it was because I missed us being together and I wanted to spend more time with you, but then I wanted to spend all my time with you. My eyes aren’t gonna wander okay? They haven’t in months and why would they when you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen’

‘You’re just saying that’ you whispered, not used to compliments like that coming from him and your instincts were to think he was lying but you could see in his eyes something had changed.

‘Don’t tell me what I think’ he teased, squeezing your sides gently. ‘I’ve always thought you were pretty, why do you think I could never understand that you were single?’

‘Mase I’ve never… I’ve never done any of this. You’re the first boy who’s ever admitted to feeling anything more than friendship with me. I don’t know what to do’

‘You don’t have to do anything, we don’t have to do anything okay? Nothing has to change. I just wanna hold you more, kiss you more maybe if that’s something you’d want’

‘I’ve never had sex’ you blurted and the confession made him chuckle. Clearly he knew this already but you just wanted him to be certain of what he was getting himself into.

‘That’s fine’ he whispered, pulling you in a little closer. ‘I know you’re scared, okay? This is different for me too. I’ve never had a proper girlfriend before, I mean I’ve dated girls and been exclusive with a couple but never got to the official stage. I’ve never wanted that from anyone but I want it from you. If that’s what you want’

‘I think I do, I’m just…’

‘What?’ He whispered, a look of love and reassurance on his face and you felt your eyes sting at how safe you felt with him.

‘I’m fucking terrified’ you laughed. ‘I know I’ve been trying to find someone but I never thought it would be you’

‘Well I didn’t think I’d fall for you either’ he winked before placing a soft kiss to your lips that made you melt into the sheets. ‘We don’t have to stick a big label on it or anything, we can just hang out like we have been and see what comes natural to us okay? And if it’s sex your worried about then I don’t care about waiting’

‘I don’t wanna be bad for you’

‘You won’t be, not when you’ve got me for a teacher anyway’ he joked and you rolled your eyes before his face got serious. ‘I know you’re scared but you know you can trust me don't you? I wanna be the one to show you, to make you feel good. I wanna be the one you trust to show you how good it can be’ he whispered and you felt your skin tingle all over at his words. ‘But we’ll wait until you’re ready cause there’s a million things we need to do before we get there’

‘So I’m not just a phase then?’

‘Not at all’ he laughed, ‘and I never thought you were. I could just tell you didn’t feel the same when I told you how I felt and I was trying to make you feel better’ He’d explained. ‘I couldn't go three weeks without you, gorgeous. And I knew I’d fucked up the next day but I was too much of a dick to do anything about it until I couldn’t cope without you anymore’

‘So.. you’re looking for a relationship then?’ You asked, wanting everything out on the table so you could both be certain about what was going on and you watched his face soften at you as he bit his lip nervously.

‘I wasn’t, you know I’ve never cared about that stuff but you’ve made me care. I want to do all that stuff with you. I’m done messing people around okay I just want you’

‘I want you too’ you whispered, finally admitting it out loud and you felt the weight of the world lift off of you.

‘Yeah? I thought you didn’t’

‘So did I, but ever since you told me how you felt I haven’t been able to stop thinking about us. Its like you tapped into this weird part of my brain that thinks about you in ways I never have before’

‘You’ve finally fallen victim to my mind control’ he teased and you only had a second to smile before his lips were on yours again. Hot and heavy as you wrapped yourselves around each other and you realised kissing Mason was better than you ever imagined. You just hoped you could somehow make him feel the same one day but when Mason pulled back and rested his forehead on yours, his eyes told you all you needed to know.

‘So if you’ve never had sex and never had a boyfriend, was that your first kiss?’ He asked quizzically, a spark of hope in his eyes that he could kiss you like no one else had but unfortunately you had to burst his bubble just a tiny bit.

‘You’d think it would be but no it wasn’t’ you giggled and he looked at you in deep confusion. ‘You remember Scott from school? Scott Grey?’ You asked and he nodded his head in confusion. ‘Well technically he was my first kiss’

‘You what?’

‘Oh yeah’ you laughed, laying on your back as he pushed you back slightly and you could see the jealousy written all over his face. 'He took me round the back of the science building after school once to show me his new tamagotchi. Asked if I’d liked to be its mum before planting one on me and then never spoke to me again’

‘Why didn’t you tell me? I would have kicked his dick off’ he told you, brows pinched as you could tell how annoyed he was with him but you were quick to hold his face and kiss his nose.

‘First of all, no you wouldn’t have. He was twice your size and his dad was on the school board so you could have been kicked out. And secondly I never told you cause you’ve never asked’

‘I’ve been pretty rubbish haven’t I’ he huffed, it suddenly hitting him that he simultaneously knew everything about you but also nothing at all but the way you stroked his cheek let him know everything was okay.

‘If it makes you feel any better, you were my first proper kiss. I’ve never kissed anyone like that before’

‘That does make me feel better’ he chuckled. Getting himself settled next to you again before he pulled you into his chest. ‘What about dates?’

‘I’ve been on a couple’

‘When was the last one?’

‘Like two months ago? A few days after we had our big argument’

‘What?’ He laughed, tickling your sides until you giggled but you fought him off eventually.

‘After I called you a dick and left the club that night, Olivia took me to a party at some guys from works house. I got talking to one of his friends and we went out on a date a few days after but it was actually me that wasn’t feeling it and I told him I didn't see things going anywhere’

‘What was wrong with him?’ He asked quietly but that was the issue. There was nothing wrong with him at all.

‘Just didn’t feel what I thought I should have felt you know?’ You whispered and you saw Mason nod gently with a smile on his lips. ‘I know I’ve never been in that situation or felt those things before but I told myself when I did eventually find someone I wouldn’t settle for just anyone. I want fireworks and warmth and all those things you read about’

‘Do you feel it now?’ He whispered, his eyes searching your face erratically almost as if he was scared of your answer but little did he know he had no reason to be.

‘I do, yeah’

The relieved breath that fell from Mason's lips made you smile wider than you had in a while. His own face mirroring yours just as he planted another heavy kiss on your lips before trailing his kissed down your jaw and neck and you knew you had to try and distract him before you both ended up in a compromised position.

‘Mason?’ You gasped, hearing him chuckle against your skin and even though he stopped his attack with his lips you felt him nestle into you with a content hum that made you pull him in closer.

‘Yes love?’ He spoke against your neck, the vibrations travelling over every inch of your skin and you had to hold in your gasp at the feel of it.

‘You promised me breakfast’ you whispered and that was all it took for him to pull up and look at you with his usual cheeky smile.

‘I did, didn't I’ he laughed. Gently brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. ‘How do pancakes sound?’

‘It sounds like you want me to make breakfast’ you pouted, watching him nod at you enthusiastically before he was trying his hardest to pull you away from the warmth and safety of the duvet.

‘I love how you get me. Come on, I’ll assist you’ he confirmed and you didn’t have it in you to argue. Letting him pull you up so you could stand in front of him and when you felt his hands dangerously low on your back you smiled up at him cheekily. ‘Thank you for giving me a shot, I know I don’t deserve one’

‘You better make it worth my while then, Mount’ you teased but no more words needed to be said. You could see it in his eyes he was ready to make things as good for the pair of you as he could so you let him lead you downstairs by the hand to start the next part of your journey together.

Well done if you made it 🤭 thank you so so much for reading and I’d love some feedback if you fancy it 😘 xxx

[pbuckets-5]

uconns lost player part 2

authors note - hey y’all i’m back

warnings - angst, SWEARING, alcohol, fluff if you squint, smut if you reaaaally look

be prepared

21 - gracie abrams

i see the look in your eye and i’m biting my tongue

the sharp echo of the ball slamming against the wood floor echoed through the gym, each bounce sending a shock through your body. you freeze, clutching your basketball under your arm like a lifeline.

“long time no see,” nika’s voice rings throughout the empty gym, the ball momentarily stopping. another pair of footsteps pad across the gym floor, coming to a stop with an abrupt squeak.

“y/n.” geno’s voice cuts through the charged air like a knife, his words sharp, as if he was about to coach you.

you spin around on your heel, smiling sheepishly. your cheeks flush pink, the two combined gazes making you shrink. “uh.” you start, stuttering. “hi?”

after what felt like hours of hard labor and repeated shots from all over the court, geno finally released you with a slap on the back and a note from him clearing you to the nurse to begin to play again (involuntarily). nika walked out with you, an eerie silence falling between you.

she tentatively reaches out to touch your arm, stopping you in your tracks. you stare at one another for a moment before she speaks up, her voice hoarse from the hours of exertion.

“you know..” she begins, clearing her throat. “paige misses you. i don’t know how she’s going to react when you come back. just, please, don’t pull the bullshit you pulled again. you know that’ll break her.” she pauses, as if she almost regrets what she’s thinking. the silence falls thickly between you, the air charged with unspoken words. “you should really come back to kk’s apartment. it’s where the girls are celebrating.” she pauses after seeing the totally mortified expression on your face. “just.. try.”

and that’s how you found yourself slumped in the front seat of nika’s car, the music playing quietly in the background as she talks about the game. “you would’ve loved it,” she says, a soft, nostalgic smile on her face. “you would’ve dominated.” she says, tearing her eyes from the road to look at your slumped figure. you wondered if she could see your racing heart or maybe even read your mind.

“eyes on the road!” you say, gesturing for her to look back to the car in front of us. “oh gosh!” you say, straightening in your seat. you can’t help the small smile that graces your cheeks, glancing over at your closest hoop buddy.

“i know how to drive, dipshit.” she says, grinning wider now as she pulls into the all too familiar parking lot leading to kk’s apartment.

your heart suddenly leaps, and you realize what the fuck you’re actually doing right now. you’ve just dug yourself a 6 foot hole, and you’re about to jump into it when you step into this apartment.

“fuck.” you murmur, climbing out of nika’s car. you could immediately recognize multiple cars in the parking lot as many that you’ve been in before. you followed behind her like a lost puppy as you stepped into the elevator, counting the seconds until your heart goons into cardiac arrest.

as the two of you step out of the elevator, nika places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “it’s going to be fine. everybody misses you, anyways.” she says, flashing you that grin.

you smile back, trying to ignore there way your stomach twists as you take steps closer to the apartment. you can hear laughter and the bustling sounds of movement from outside, even from down the hall. you trail behind nika, hiding behind her broad shoulders as she pushed the door open.

the conversation falls for a moment, then quickly replaced by cheers.

“how was private torture with coach?” kk bounds over, seemly not noticing you as you fall back, even farther behind nika. you sag by the door, a blank but clearly terrified look plastered on your face.

nika drags you in my your wrist, and you can hear the gasp that echos through the room. all heads turn towards a slumped blonde one, her braids as always perfect and her usual bubbly self dimmed.

kk was the one to save the day, a broad grin spreading across her cheeks as she envelopes you in a hug, her arms squeezing you. “oh my god! i haven’t seen you in ages!” she squeals, squeezing the literal air out of you.

“yeah.” you croak out, wrapping your arms around her. “i haven’t seen you in a while.” you shoot nika a death glare for dragging you here, something that used to be your safe haven but was now a hell-hole.

she let’s go, finally, and bounds to the other side of the room, her radiant energy drawing everyone’s eyes to her. they were all obviously intoxicated, the room scattered with beer cans.

“paige!” she says, and you can feel your heart drop. all eyes turn to you as the color drains from your face, quickly then returning with a flushed hue. this is the closest you’ve been to paige since the accident, and your heart was already pounding out of your chest.

when she looked up, her red-rimmed eyes met yours with a look a pure shock, then betrayal, and then absolute admiration. you couldn't tell if she was mad as hell or proud to see you up again.

a snort escapes azzi's mouth, and a roll of her eyes only confirmed her feelings about you. "the fuck is she doing here?" she hisses, her eyes narrowing down on your shrinking figure.

"azzi." nika warns, her tone sharp and motherly. "enough. she's joining the team again." she says, wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders.

you couldn't wipe the way paige's face contorted at the sight of you. her mouth dropped open in shock, her nose crinkling slightly, something she does when shes happy, her eyes widening. the look was enough to leave you shaken for a lifetime, especially since she was still staring you down with the same look.

annoyance flashed across azzi's face, her eyebrows furrowing in anger. "we did just fine without her. why does she need to come back now? just because paige didn't drop 30 on a few games? it's not like she cared any sooner." she ranted, her voice droning and painful to listen to.

the room fell deathly silent, so quiet that you could literally hear kk's breathing.

your face flushed pink. "i think i'll go." you murmur the first words all night, spinning on your heel and ignoring nika and kk's protests, and azzi's obnoxious laughter.

you shut the door behind you, exhaling deeply and leaning against the wall. you try to calm your twisted stomach, or your racing heart, but that only picks up when you hear the door click open beside you.

a tall, very drunk blonde steps out, her bright blue eyes landing on you. before you have time to react, her lips are pressed against yours, a satisfied sigh slipping past her lips.

your eyes widen, but you don't pull away. this is the sole thought that's starred in your head ever since paige had finally left you alone. you thought that's what you wanted.

your hands slide to the nape of her neck, playing with the ends of her ponytail. her large hands slide down to your waist, drawing mindless shapes through your t-shirt.

"m' sorry about azzi." she mutters, pulling away for a moment, taking a deep breath. "i'm just glad you're back. i missed you." her voice is tinged with sympathy and a mix of desire.

"missed you more." you say.

last thing you remember from last night.

you wake up in a frenzy, peeling open your eyes in a too-familiar bed. "shit!" you hiss, throwing the blankets off you. you scramble the floor for your clothes, picking up discarded items and throwing them on. a rustle from the bed reminds you of what a painfully awkward situation you're in.

paige groans, then gasps, a horrible sound cutting through the silence of the apartment.

"y/n?!"

[hypnopreppy]

New Year, New you

Chet mumbles to himself as he checks his email. It’s New Year’s Eve and Chet could care less about partying or shooting off fireworks. All he wants to do is get some last games in before the new year. Taking a break from gaming, he decided to check his email.

“Hm? What’s this?” Chet clicks on an email he just got.

New Year, New You

“It's probably some stupid scam,” Chet says to himself. Curiosity getting the better of him, he opens it and decides to read what it has to say.

ARE YOU TIRED OF THE SAME OLD YOU? ARE YOU SICK OF FAILED NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS?

“Actually yeah I am,” Chet agrees.

THEN LOOK NO FURTHER THAN Optima! THIS BRAND NEW ONLINE PERSONAL COACHING SYSTEM IS JUST WHAT YOU NEED TO FIND THE NEW YOU!

“Optima?”

HAVING BEEN TESTED AND VETTED BY THE WORLD’S LEADING NEUROSCIENTISTS, Optima, PROVIDES UNPARALLELED CHANGES FOR A NEW AND IMPROVED YOU.

NO HARD WORK. NO GIMMICKS. JUST CUTTING EDGE TECHNOLOGY FOR YOU! GET RESULTS IN SECONDS!

“Seconds? Really?” Chet wonders what it would be like. His life is kind of boring for the most part.

THE NEW YOU IS JUST ONE CLICK AWAY! READY TO TRANSFORM?

CLICK THE LINK. WE DARE YOU.

Chet’s mouse hovered over the bright red button at the bottom of the page. “Is this real?” He asks himself. As he contemplates clicking it he reads some small text below the button.

Act fast! This offer vanishes at midnight.

He looked over at the clock. 11:59PM

“Oh shit!” He says. “You know what? Fuck it!” Chet clicks the link with a few seconds to spare.

The next screen brings him to a gray screen with black loading dots in the center. For what feels like an hour, Chet just stares with anticipation. What’s going to happen? Are they gonna take my money? His mind is running with questions.

Suddenly the screen goes black. A cursor comes on and types out “LOADING STEPFORD PROTOCOL…”

“Stepford? What the-” Chet is immediately cut off by the next words.

“WELCOME CHESTER WINTHROP”

“How the hell does it know my-” Before he could finish, the screen changed again, filling his room with bright flashing lights. 

“Whoa…” Chet was enthralled by the lights. 

The flash of colors featured words that he could barely make out.

RELAX

RELAX

RELAX

Chet felt an uncontrollable urge to just relax. The lights are so pretty, why not relax?

NO THOUGHTS

NO THOUGHTS

NO THOUGHTS

Chet’s mind stops running, the only thoughts being the words on the screen.

OBEY

OBEY

OBEY

Chet obeys.

DELETE PERSON

DELETE PERSON

DELETE PERSON

Chet is gone.

YOU ARE CHESTER WINTHROP

YOU ARE CHESTER WINTHROP

YOU ARE CHESTER WINTHROP

“I am Chester Wintrhop,” Chester mumbles.

YOU BEHAVE

YOU BEHAVE

YOU BEHAVE

“I behave.” 

YOU ARE COMPLIANT

YOU ARE COMPLIANT 

YOU ARE COMPLIANT

“I am compliant.”

YOU ARE OBEDIENT

YOU ARE OBEDIENT

YOU ARE OBEDIENT

“I am obedient.”

YOU ARE A GOOD BOY

YOU ARE A GOOD BOY

YOU ARE A GOOD BOY

“I am a good boy.” Chester repeats.

DRESS PREPPY

DRESS PREPPY

DRESS PREPPY

“Dress preppy.”

Unbeknownst to Chester, the reality around him warps to match his new self. His gaming computers and desk shifted to be minimalist with a laptop, his posters replaced with a simple pastel, and bed neatly done.

Chester himself also experienced change. His unruly hair suddenly became cut and brushed, his hoodie and sweatpants replaced with a collared shirt tucked into khaki pants. His slippers were replaced with boat shoes.

After a few hours of conditioning the video ended. Chester rose from his seat smiling, transformed into his new self. Chet, the unkempt gamer was transformed into Chester, a servant of the community and missionary to the Stepford Protocol.

“Golly, it’s late! I have volunteer work tomorrow!” 

[octuscle]

From tutor to rookie of the year

Hi, my name is Jake. My company has hired me to tutor a few students with poor grades. That's not necessarily the reason why I started working at the auditing company. But first of all, I'm new here and I'm not going to refuse right at the beginning of my career. And secondly, becoming a teacher had actually been an option for me. Maybe it's fate now or something.

The first lesson gets off to a very promising start. I almost have to tear myself apart to leave your office and get to school on time. But when I arrive, there is a yawning emptiness in the classroom. Only after fifteen minutes I hear noise in the corridor and a couple of football jocks barge in the door. A few still in football gear. And all obviously unshowered after training. Phew, it stinks. And as I look into the handsome, square-cut faces of the boys spraying with testosterone, I'm suddenly back at school. The small, clever but shy boy who, at best, the stars of the football team overlook and, at worst, stuff into the toilet. I clear my throat and say that I'm not here for fun either and that I'm asking for some attention. The boys barely react. Damn it, it's not my problem. I explain a few linear algebra problems on the blackboard and ignore the paper airplanes. I have my school-leaving certificate. I have my master's degree. And my bonus doesn't depend on the grades of these idiots. At least I hope so.

After the debacle of the first tutoring session, my appetite for the second is very dampened. But it was already hard enough to get this internship. The firm is one of the most prestigious accountancy firms in the city. And if my pro bono job as an intern is tutoring the idiots on the football team twice a week, I'll survive. Apart from the 60 hours a week in which I have to pore over balance sheets, that doesn't matter any more.

These days, the musclemen are even on time. And somehow nicer than last time. They even ask me reasonably sensible questions like whether you can predict the trajectories of footballs. I take this as an opportunity to tell them something about vector calculus. They collapse with laughter. "Bro, I was joking. And football isn't math. Football is strength and speed." I'm about to take a breath and say something about Newton and the relationship between force and speed. But instead of listening to me, the jocks start bragging to each other about their heroic stories on the field. And I can't help but listen to them spellbound. When the lesson is over, I look after them with fascination. I wish I could have been more like them at school.

Shit, because I'm the only nerd on the senior team who isn't a complete failure at sports, Coach made me give math tutoring to the football team. He thinks the Meatheads might have a little bit of respect for me. Shit! Them for me? I for them might be more correct! The thought of explaining math to my secret crush forms a wet spot in my Calvin Klein shorts.

I expected the boys to keep me waiting. If they were also punctual and disciplined off the pitch, they wouldn't need any help. And I don't want to tutor them any more than they want to be tutored. We reach a compromise. You listen to my math tutoring for half an hour. And then we'll go out onto the pitch for half an hour and play a bit of football. God knows I'm not unsportsmanlike. But soccer has somehow never been my sport. I'm more of a swimming pool or gym kind of guy. Team sports? Not really.

Shit, yeah, I'm no rocket scientist in math. But I have quite good grades in English and history. I'm not going to fail this year. Why the fuck do I have to go to tutoring with the other bros from the football team? I have no idea. But seriously, the tutor is a total loser. A beanpole in a stuffy shirt. The idiot even wears a tie. Seriously, who wears a tie these days? If I had to wear a tie, I'd change jobs. Or if I had to shower after training. Shit, these are just rules that can come from old fat men. Bros like me and my bros smell like test… Testo… Well that hormone stuff. Sweat, musk and Axe. If I didn't have to go straight to detention again, I'd let the loser smell my armpits… But I'm a sophomore on the team right now. Let the juniors and seniors do that.

"Jack, bro!" This is Chuck. The QB on the team. I can tell by his voice. And by his smell. And I'd also know it by the taste of his cheesy boner…. But he stays locked in his jockstrap cage right now. What a damn shame! "Bro, where were you in tutoring? The dean was there. You're in fucking trouble!" Shit, tutoring! I was at the gym. The other guys are all so pumped. I don't want to lag behind any longer. "Shit, dude, we said you were in the bathroom. The loser tutor didn't dare contradict us. But I think you have to let him suck you off so he doesn't tell on you." Hehehehehe, I like that idea. There are still 40 minutes until football practice… And I haven't cum yet today. "Is the loser still in the classroom?" I ask. Chuck nods. I fist bump him and say that I'll sort it out quickly.

If Chuck and Matt go to college next year, I have a good chance to be the QB. But until then I still have to build up a lot of mass. Those two are just in a whole different league. And I'm damn jealous of the hair on Matt's chest. You should see the bush under his arms. Dude, the man is going to be a fucking gorilla! Shit, I'm not half the man those two are. You can tell immediately by the size of the bulge in our compression shorts. Nevertheless, neither of them mind if I fuck them. But they like fucking me even more. Without eye contact. Otherwise it would be totally homo!

We skipped tutoring again today. Coch covers for us while we're in the gym or doing our laps on the cinder track outside. Nevertheless, it's still up in the air whether Chuck and Matt will be at college next year. And whether I'll be a junior by then. But screw it, NFL pros don't need to know math.

[dilfl0v3rss]

stiletto’s

summary: basketball player!ony unknowingly gave his teammates a sneak peak of what life was like at home with you…

cw: smut, back scratching, cuts, mentions of blood/bleeding, ony picking on underclassmen

word count: 1.3k

“fuck man what happened t’you?”

the chuckles and gasps of his teammates made ony’s face full with confusion as he turned around from his locker. they had just finished a hard practice, the events from the past three hours leaving each of the men with glistening wet bodies as they cooled off and changed into their regular clothes.

for some reason, ony’s back has been acquiring a slight sting as the drills got more and more intense. constant sentences of “you good o?” and “do you need to see a trainer” were thrown his way by his coaches as everyone watched the star basketball player’s body move uncomfortably in his practice jersey.

“i’m good coach, jersey just scratchin me a lil” he replied before continuing on with his workout, ignoring the prickly pain for the remainder of the practice.

as he reached the locker room, ony made quick work of removing his “itchy jersey”, sighing as his back was instantly relieved from any discomfort. his sigh brought the attention of the second captain, and his good friend, eren.

“fuck man, what happened t’you” he chuckled, drawing attention towards the head captain as the rest of his teammates began to laugh. “ooouu”’s and “oh shit”’s began to be released all over the locker room as ony just stared at everyone in confusion. “fuck y’all laughing at?” he mumbled, a smirk growing on his face as he turned around fully to see what was funny. “you look like you got attacked by some typa animal or sum” one of his teammates said, making the darkskin male even more confused as he looked himself over repeatedly.

“what you mean, i’m bleeding or sum?” as he spoke, his dark eyes raked up and down his front, checking his arms and the back of his legs as well to try to understand what they were talking about. eren rolled his eyes in annoyance, grabbing his friend by the shoulders before walking him towards the toilets. “look bro” he mumbled before turning ony’s back towards the mirror for him to see.

his jaw nearly touched the ground as ony realized the reason for his pain earlier. there were scratches on top of scratches all over his back. the red, wounded skin probably getting irritated by his sweat and the feeling of his jersey rubbing against it during the practice. “oh shit” he mumbled, earning laughs all around the room as he looked at the different marks he had. “ion know if i should be happy or concerned furreal. i just know your girl be fighting for her life”

ony rolled his eyes at his friends comment, lightly punching his chest before making his way back to his locker to finish changing. “man that girl is fine. and for the three little niggas in the back that think ion know you be in her dms, talking about how you ‘don’t understand what she see’ in me.” as he spoke, he made sure to make direct eye contact with the three freshman boys that have been going to war in your dms, the three of them staring back at him with wide eyes as they tried to hide behind each other. ony just smirked, his pearly white teeth making an appearance as he continued on with his statement.

“let this be a little taste of one of the many things she ‘sees’ in me, and until you get a shorty to see that in you, stay out my wife phone.” the locker room erupted with laughter. some of his fellow upperclassmen clapping while others dapped him up. the younger men gave their friends sorry looks before carrying on with getting dressed, embarrassment running through them. after things began to quiet down ony make quick work of throwing on his nike tech, without a shirt since the tight fit would irritate his back, and his pajama pants before heading towards his car, the previous nights events replaying in his mind as he drove with a smirk.

“ohmygodohmygod i can’ttt!” you whined, your arms wrapped securely around your boyfriends neck as he pounded you into the wall of your bedroom. ony’s wide hands were spread on the bottom of your thighs, his deep voice caressing your ear as he fed you all of his inches. “can’t what mama? can’t watch y’mouth or can’t take this dick?” his hips moved harder, your pretty brown eyes loosing focus as you screamed out at the newfound angle he was fucking you in. your eyes began to water with salty tears as you tried your best to take everything he was giving you, “n-neither.”

ony moved his head from the crook of your neck, giving you a dissatisfied look as he tightened his grip on your thighs. “don’t play wit me….not when i can easily have you like this.” at the sound of his last word, ony pulled your legs up a little higher, opening you up more for him to lightly graze your cervix. you wailed at the feeling, fat tears sliding down your cheeks as you began to run your stiletto nails down his broad back. ony payed the action no mind, hips never faltering as he continued to pound into you. “okay okay okayyyy m’sorry furreal now pa” your quick change in attitude brought a satisfied smirk to your lovers face, his brown lips parting as he brought them back to your neck.

“thas my good girl. you too pretty t’be doin allat cussin, right baby?” your walls fluttered at the sound of his voice. the words sliding off his tongue were like butter and you couldn’t help but reply, your words coming out whiny and broken as you tried your best to hold in your release. “s’r-right daddy” you pushed out, it took all of your focus just to say two words and your boyfriend could tell. by the way you were gripping and scratching his back, squeezing your thighs in his hold, and clenching your walls around him ony could tell that all it took was a couple more thrusts to have you cumming all over him. and since you realized your mistake he had no problem letting you.

ony finished his assault on your neck, his lips leaving dark purple marks all over the sensitive skin as he moved his face towards yours. low brown eyes staring into glassy rolled ones as your man slowly stepped from the wall. he moved towards the bed, never missing a stroke as he laid you down on the silk sheets. he left it to you to wrap your legs around him while he fucked you and you instinctively did so, stoking you deeply at a steady pace. “oh my g- ony m’gonna cum…y-you’re gonna make me cum” your eyes welded at the feeling, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as you dug your sharp nails into his back, dragging them down his dark brown skin.

“let me have it ma, cum all on this dick wit that pretty pussy” at his words you broke, tears falling from your eyes as you let everything go. your vision blurred and your body tightened, nothing but broken whines leaving your lips as you came. ony finished at the same time, sinking deeper and deeper into you as he released his hot, sticky ropes into your walls. “thas my good girl”

a devilish smirk was on ony’s face as he drove now, his dick twitching in his pants as he thought of you. the way you’d moan his name, the sight of your pretty eyes practically begging him to give you all he had, the feeling of your milky white stilettos running down his back. ony couldn’t stop himself from picking up his speed as he drove, one hand holding the steering wheel in a tight grip as the other palmed and rubbed his aching dick. he couldn’t wait to get home and do it all again.

[sissylittlefeather]

Kinktober Day 3: Accidental Stimulation

All Night Long

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, cussing, kissing, oral sex (m receiving), swallowing, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex

Word count: ~1k

Kinktober Masterlist

"Cut! The lighting is off again. Someone get in here and fix this!" The director is yelling again because the scene doesn't look the way he wants it to. You stand there with your backside pressed up against Elvis as he's supposed to be coaching you on how to shoot a bow and arrow. "We're gonna have to do it again."

"That's fine, I can do this all day!" Elvis hollers and then he whispers in your ear. "And all night."

You giggle and blush and try to pull yourself together before the scene starts again. He's been flirting with you pretty heavily the whole time and you swear if you push your ass back against him you can feel his hard on.

You're giggling so much from his last comment that you drop the arrow. Without thinking, you bend down to pick it up. In doing so, you push up against him again, bent over to almost touch your toes. Elvis instinctively grabs your hips and presses his dick against you. You definitely feel his erection this time.

Standing up quickly, you catch the tail end of his soft moan and whimper. Your panties are drenched from the hours of having him whisper in your ear and casually brush parts of you with his hand. Elvis clears his throat. He's hit the limit of what he can stand.

"Break time!" He yells to no one in particular. The director protests, but he ignores him as he grabs your hand and drags you to his trailer. Literally everyone knows what is about to happen, but they all know better than to say anything.

Once you make it to the trailer and shut the door behind you, Elvis turns and presses himself against you, pinning you to the door and kissing you deeply. He grinds his hips against you and moans into your mouth.

"Nope. Not enough this time." He seems to be saying it to himself more than to you. Still, you're confused.

"Not enough?"

"Normally I'd just rub on you, honey, but you've got me losing my mind. I need to have you. Can I?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely." He laughs as you quickly strip off your t-shirt and shorts. Your hands go to the buttons on his shirt and he kisses you as you undress him. He doesn't bother to take his pants all the way off, just dropping them to the floor. You gasp as he literally rips your bra off and tosses it to the side, turning you to face away from him. He yanks your panties down and lets them fall to your ankles, stroking his cock as he looks at you.

"Bend over like you dropped the arrow." He coos in your ear as he holds your back against him. You nod and obey, reaching down and steadying yourself with your hands on the low coffee table. He looks at your pussy from behind, glistening and waiting for him, and grunts. Sliding his foreskin back, he rubs his tip against you, using your arousal to get his dick wet enough. "You ready for me, baby?"

"Mhmmm." You whine, your pussy clenching and eager for him. He holds himself just long enough to push into you and then grabs both of your hips tightly. You hear him groan as he bottoms out, his balls slapping against your clit.

"Fuck, baby, you're so tight. Goddamn." He starts to slam into you from behind over and over and you struggle to maintain your balance, holding onto the table for dear life. The force with which he fucks you has your eyes rolling back as he ruts into you again and again. You whimper and moan softly as the heat of your orgasm begins to gather between your legs while he rams against your g-spot repeatedly. He moans through gritted teeth. "That's right, baby, take this cock like a good girl."

"Elvis! Fuck!" You cry out as your climax washes over you, rushing like wildfire from your center out to your edges and back again. But he doesn't slow down to let you recover; he just keeps pounding you relentlessly as your legs start to shake. You're pretty sure he's going to leave bruises on your hips, he's holding you so tightly as he fucks into you. He grunts again as your eyes start to water from the combination of pleasure and pain while he drives into you aggressively.

"So... close... baby..." Then, he pulls out suddenly and pumps his cock with his hand, but before he can cum on your ass, you turn around and fall to your knees, taking him in your mouth.

"Oh, fuck, baby!" He yells as you feel him cum hard in your mouth. You suck it out of him and swallow it down while his dick twitches and throbs. When he finishes, he stumbles backwards and collapses on the couch, his pants still around his ankles. He leans his head back on the cushions and opens his mouth, panting and sweating and trying desperately to catch his breath. You're still on your knees also trying to recover.

"C'mere, honey." He holds his arms out to you and you climb into them and snuggle into his lap as he buries his face in your neck. "We gotta go back out there."

"Yeah, I suppose we should." You try to sit up and he squeezes you again.

"Two more minutes." But as he says that there's a loud knock on the door.

"Hey, uh, EP, the director is really losin' it. You better get out here." It's one of his guys, come to fetch him back to the set. He sighs deeply and pats your bottom. You both stand up and get dressed, putting yourselves back together. Eventually, you make it back out to filming and resume your position with him up behind you. You assume he's gotten all the flirting out of his system with the romp in his trailer, but that doesn't seem to be the case. The director hollers in frustration.

"We're not leaving here until this is done!"

"Fine by me." Elvis shrugs. He whispers in your ear. "I can do this over and over. All. Night. Long."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @deltafalax @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @jhoneybees @polksaladava @searchingforgravity @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis

Anybody else want a Kinktober tag everyday?

[junedenim]

the dignity fucks off

what happens when he stares

warnings: smut, blowjob, p in v, masturbating, fingering, eating, etc. basically the smuttiest thing i've written

word count: 5.2k

Your left tennis shoe scruffs against the clay court. That's what grabs his attention first. Then, the ruffles on the skirt of your dress—white and short—fluttering with the turn on your hips. You swing your arm, moving back, and slamming the ball across the way to your tennis coach.

It lands out-of-bounds and you drop your racquet. "I'm done!" You announce.

"But your dad has me booked for an hour?" Your coach yells back.

You scrunch up your nose and Alex is lost in it, every divet of you, lost in it. He hangs off the half-wall fence, leaning over, watching this scene. Your ponytail sways in the wind as you walk off the court.

"You'll get your payment," you tell him. "But I'm sweaty, I don't want to do this anymore." You pass by him, squinting at him. His eyes have unintentionally followed you the whole way and he knows he must look like the biggest creep. "The grass is overgrown, don't you think?" This comment is directed toward him.

He stands up straight, a stuttering mess. "Uh, yeah, yeah, I'll, um, I'll take care of that one."

"Good." You walk away and he watches you as you do this and then you turn back and—fuck! He must look like an obsessive freak (worst of all, he kind of feels like he is and doesn't care). "Is the pool clean?"

He nods. "Yeah, I just finished cleaning it a few minutes ago."

You sigh and place your hands on your hips. "Yeah, but sometimes in that time frame the leaves fall into the pool because of that dumb tree that hangs over it."

"I can clean it up for you again."

"Could you?" You're twirling the ends of your ponytail with your hands.

He can't deny you, both because it's his job, but you're also batting those eyelashes and he's already such a goner lost in you. It started on his first day when you returned home from school for summer vacation. You got out of the car in two braids in short shorts and he thought you were some worker, not the daughter. Your outfit didn't match the extravagance of the house or the elegance of your parents. That attitude was scrubbed away quickly as you were forced into these lavish things, including tennis.

"Do you want to swim with me?" You ask.

You've never been this upfront with him. Your conversations have exclusively been orders and demands. "Oh, I can't. I still have to mow this lawn, you know."

"You can take a break," you insist.

"Your dad would kill me."

"My dad is at work so that technically means I'm your boss and you look awfully hot so you're going to swim with me. Although you should wash off before, your hands look a little dirty. I'm going to change into my suit and I expect to meet you by my clean pool."

He yells after you. "I don't have a suit."

"Then go naked!" You yelled back, rounding the corner before he had a say in anything.

There are no leaves in the pool but he waits for you. As the minutes pass on more and more, it becomes increasingly more likely that you're going to be a no-show and this is all you playing a trick on him.

You come out with a towel over your arm and a skimpy bikini that is your usual swim attire. "You clean out the leaves, pool boy? Are you the pool boy?"

"Not technically but I guess I'm the one who looks after it."

You hum at this information and drop your towel on one of the recliners. "Sit," you instruct him.

"The grass isn't going to cut itself," he says.

You roll your eyes exaggeratedly. "Well, no, but I want you to sit." Alex listens and sits across from you. "I don't mean to boss you around. You do have free will if you want to cut the grass."

"No, it's fine."

"You look like you need a break anyway. Plus, what would you pick me or grass?"

He thinks the question is rhetorical until you're leaning forward, signaling for an answer. "Oh, uh, you, I guess."

You scoff, "You guess? You're not a very good liar."

"I'm not lying." He's full of bullshit and the biggest liar on the planet. He'd pick you over anything let alone a menial housework duty. 

"I know. You're pretty obvious with your staring."

Fuck. He is a creep. "I'm sorry about all that."

"Oh, I don't care. I'm used to people looking. I wouldn't invite you to swim with me if I thought you were going to assault me or something." He guesses that's a comfort to his psyche. "Do you want to know a secret?"

He nods and you bite your lip, nodding for him to come closer. Up against his ear, you whisper, "Sometimes, I stare too." You pull back and peck him on the lips. There's nothing overtly sexual about it but your lips are smooth with gloss and you're teasing in every sense; your hand on his thigh, drifting up closer and closer, your eyes trained on him, watching, staring.

Alex is caught, unsure what to do. You giggle at his reaction and pull away, leaving him stunned completely and he feels like he has been paralyzed. You leave him, jumping into the pool while he processes. 

"Get in!" You splash up at him, making him attempt to shield himself. 

"I'm not getting caught skinny dipping with you."

Your eyelashes drip of water as you bat them. "You want me to skinny dip?"

"No, I mean, do whatever you want—"

"So, you do want me to skinny dip." You're a trickster and he has a feeling you would accidentally make him confess to murder with your wordplay.

"I'm leaving."

You're cackling at him and he feels like he's being made fun of but that laugh is adorable. He'll return to the grass and relive this moment in his head while he does the whole yard and then when he's in bed tonight and, man, he's fucked. 

"Hey, Alex!" You call out after him and he's shocked you even know his name. Your hair is wet, you're wet, dripping down your body, teasing him. "One of the lights in my room is acting up, can you fix that?"

But he works for you or, well, works for your dad, either way, you have to be playing him and any fantasy stays in his mind. "I'll get right on that."

"After the lawn," you request.

"After the lawn."

*

He's twisting in a lightbulb when you return to your room, hair still dripping water, towel wrapped around your soaked body. "Did you fix it?"

Words, words, words, Alex, words! "Uh, yeah." It takes every fiber in him to not stare at your boobs. "It was, uh, just a lightbulb."

"Cool," you say carelessly, dropping the towel. "Can you undo my top? It's tied to it too tightly."

You've turned around and his internal monologue is going haywire. He could just untie it but that's too far. There's no going back after that. But he thinks you want it that way. And he wants it that way. So, what's so wrong about it?

His fingers fiddle and your body shakes with laughter. "Are you making fun of me?" He asks, trying to rid himself of these nerves.

"No, I swear." You turned around, holding the bikini top to your chest. "I'm charmed by you."

"Thanks," he mutters.

You giggle. "Your turn."

"My turn what?"

"Your shorts or your shirt? I'll let you choose."

"To-to take off?"

You nod.

"Oh, uh, I don't know—"

"Fine. Your shirt," you say carefreely like you're deciding on what you'll have for lunch. In this scenario, he's lunch. "Come on." You're smiling and your hands are sliding and it's so close to your breasts being exposed. He'd be lying if he said he was salivating to see your boobs. They are staring right at him. So, he reaches down and takes off his shirt.

Your smile is devious and he clings to the thought that you're actually attracted to him and he isn't making this whole thing up in his mind. "Now, your shorts."

"What about your top?" He quickly asks. He winces at the thought that he is coming off as a pervert.

You chuckle, your smile beaming. "See, I knew you weren't as coy as you come off as. I like a man who can take charge, you know."

His heart is beating so fast and all the blood has rushed away from his head and down south that he thinks he is going to pass out. "Then, take it off."

You bite your lip, dropping the top, allowing him to get a peek at the tops of your breasts before you cover them with your arms. "There."

"No, no, no, let me see." He's having fun with this game now with your permission and his cock doing the talking, he's gaining confidence in this whole exchange but remains terrified this is some prank you're pulling on him and he's about to get fired.

But you drop your arms, your nipples perked up, and he loses all thoughts and is fine getting fired because it's like he's witnessing the Eighth Wonder of the World. You're staring straight at him, imploring him for more, and wordlessly telling him to remove his shorts.

With just his underwear left, he tells you, "Your bottoms now." 

You listen, pulling them off, completely naked in front of him. You turn around, your bare ass to him, compelling him to get lost in the sight of it, all the curves, crevices, and notes of it.

Then, you open the top drawer of your dresser. "What are you doing?" He asks.

"Getting dressed," you reply.

Alex isn't sure what overcomes him—a demon, an unknown force, his dick—but he grabs you by the waist, turns you in his arm, and kisses you. It's powerful and he's pushed you up against your set of drawers, rattling the items atop it. Your arms wrap around his neck, tightening a hold on him and pulling him closer to you. It's hard, it's rough, and there's no escape, neither of you allowing the other to leave your grasp.

You pull away an inch, out of breath and breathing in each other's air, still trapped in one another. "Can I blow you?"

"What?" His ears are deceiving him. He's sure of it.

You giggle, captivated by every piece of him. "You're so cute. Can I give you a blowjob?"

He nods quickly. "Yeah, yeah, fuck yes." You're on your knees in front of him, pulling down his underwear off all the way, and taking his dick into your mouth before he can even process this whole situation.

Alex closes his eyes as he feels your tongue swirling over the head of his shaft, licking up the precum. He can feel your tongue everywhere on him, licking up the underside before circling around his head again. He lets out a moan, and his hand seems to automatically find its way into your damp hair, pulling you closer to him.

"That feels so fucking good," he tells you, and he starts to pump his hips a little, shoving his dick further into your mouth, pushing the back of your head against the drawers. You open wider, wanting to get as much of his cock into your mouth as you can, feeling it hit the back of your throat, which gets a moan out of you, too. He feels like he's going to come, embarrassed by not lasting long but it's uncontrollable and he figures that if he's going to do it he might as well tell you. "Fuck, I think I'm gonna come already." 

"Do it," you order him, your words muffled around his member. You bring a hand up to take a firm grasp of his cock, and you start pumping, pulling your lips back and making sure they're tightly around his head. You lift your eyes to watch his body spasm as he empties into your mouth, his cum coating your tongue and sliding down to the back of your throat. Your eyes close in pleasure as it moves through your mouth, and you suck his dick greedily to make sure you got every drop. When you're sure, you pull away and make a show of swallowing his load, bringing a finger up to wipe away anything that might have escaped. 

"Wow," is all Alex can manage as he tries to wrap his mind around what just happened. "Do you know how fucking good you are at that?"

"I know," you shrug nonchalantly. "Lots of guys tell me that. You taste good, you know. Have you ever been told that?" He shakes his head. He didn't know that was a common compliment you give to guys. "Most guys are more salty, but your cum kind of tastes sweet. Might be because you're a sweet guy. I haven't been with a lot of sweet guys." Alex has no idea what to say to that so he just nods his head dumbly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just a little..." he's out of breath and points to his head.

You smile up at him, all cutesy and desperately wishing to take a picture and remember the way you look on your knees forever. "I didn't know I was that good."

He huffs out a breath. "You're fucking brilliant."

"Thanks." You stand up, moving over to your bed. "Do you want to continue?"

Alex observes you, his mind running a million miles per second. You're sitting on your bed, legs crossed hiding your pussy, but leaning back on your arms perfectly exposing your boobs. "Fuck yes."

You're laughing at him again, pushing your hair back behind your ear. "You like to watch, don't you?"

Alex has to agree, he guesses this whole thing came out of him being a creep watching you. "You. Looking like that. Yeah."

You scoot back on your bed, open your legs, and slide your hand down, meeting your core. Your hands touch your clit and Alex watches, stupefied, wide eyes, and he's pretty sure his jaw is hanging open. 

Your fingers round on your clit and you're softly moaning to yourself. You reach up and squeeze one of your breasts and he swears to god he thinks he's about to come again just at the sight. He leans against the drawers to steady himself. You work away at yourself quickly, moaning soft moans. He reaches down and strokes his soft cock. It's still sensitive but he needs to touch himself after the stimulus he's watching. Your hips move up and you toss your head back with a final loud moan.

You lie back on the bed, regaining breaths. Your hair is messed about in the pillow and you look over at Alex, peering down at his dick in his hand, smiling. "How'd I do?"

He can't think of words, just taking his head and slowly stroking his cock.

"Come here." You make grabby hands at him, waving him over. He sits on the edge of the bed but you sit up and grab his arm. "Come closer."

Alex is sitting in front of you, your cunt staring straight at him, mesmerizing him. You drag his arm closer to you and place his hand on top of it. He looks up at you, unsure of what you want him to do. You pick up his hand, closing his hand into a fist, and extending two of his fingers.

He slips the fingers through your folds experimentally. You feel so soft and wet and amazing and he can't believe this is happening. He feels his fingers dip when he gets to the back. He hesitates, wanting to do it perfectly, trying to sit and line up the best way possible before slipping them inside. He knows he did the right thing when you moan his name. "That feel good?"

"So good," you tell him, your eyes fluttering closed. "Your fingers are so good, I can't wait to feel your cock inside me."

The combination of your words and the feeling of your pussy stretching around his fingers is enough to start getting him hard again in record time. He brings his free hand to his shaft and starts pumping up and down again. 

You spot the sight. "You want to fuck me?" you question, your breath a bit short from his fingers working on you. You sit up and push him to sit against the headboard. He thinks he's having a stroke when you straddle him. This has got to be a fucking dream, don't wake up, don't wake up, don't wake up.

He takes a deep breath as you take hold of his dick, shuffling forward until the tip is brushing against you. He inhales sharply at the sensation and smiles nervously when you giggle at his reaction.

Slowly, you sink onto it. It's your turn to gasp. "Fuck, you're tight." It falls out of his mouth and he's still scared that everything he says is going to make you pull back and end this thing, order him out of the room, fire him, destroy him. But you grab his face, tilting his head up, and kissing his lips. Alex's arms wrap around your back, hugging you to him. His eyes start to roll to the back of his head as he continues to slip inside of you, the feeling so overwhelming. He wants to make sure you feel as good as he does. "How does that feel?"

"Fucking amazing," you manage to get out, your words finishing just as he gets his entire length in. You hold still for a moment to collect yourself. His senses are going into overdrive, and it's taking all of his concentration not to come already. You hold onto his shoulders as you lift yourself beginning a rhythm. 

Alex watches your face contort as he moves in and out of you, and the way you squeeze your eyes shut tightly when he hits you particularly deep. He thinks this couldn't possibly get any better, but then he starts jutting his hips out to meet his thrusts, and you both feel like a new sensation has been hit. Something neither of you have felt before. You're clutching at him and he's clutching at you as you move quicker and quicker. 

Then, Alex rolls you over and takes control, thrusting into you. You're whining and muttering things and he's grunting and moaning. 

"Harder," you pant out, trying to collide your pussy against his cock as hard as you can. 

He's huffing and he's so close, but he refuses to go before you. He tries to thrust into you faster and as hard as he possibly can.

"Fuck, fuck yeah, just like that," you cry out, continuing to buck into him. You reach up and grab his neck, pulling him down to your chest. He reaches up, caressing your side, and squeezing your tit. He pinches your nipple, twisting it around in his fingers and you're going to lose it.

"Shit," you moan at the feeling, waves of pleasure rolling through your entire body. You clench around him. His body jerks and he lets go, unloading deep inside of you. He jerks a few more times on top of you, emptying what's left. When he starts to roll over, you hold onto his waist, keeping him there. "No, stay inside."

You lie there with him on top of you recovering. You give him a kiss just below his ear. Alex pushes up onto his elbows to look at you, his dick still tucked inside you. "Are you okay? Was it good for you?"

You reach up, playing with bits of his hair, and beaming. "It was amazing. You're a nice boy, Alex."

"Thanks. You were—you are amazing."

"Do you, I don't know..." You're acting shy now and the thought that he is making you shy leaves him dumbfounded. "Do you maybe want to go again?"

He's eager, nodding quickly, "Of course."

You're giggling, petting his hair. "Okay."

"Like now?"

He apparently must be doing stand-up because you're bursting with laughter. "If you've recovered that quickly."

"I mean, no, but I can get myself there." Three times in less than an hour would be a record for him but he is desperate and if he's going to do it anytime it would be now.

"Okay." You bite your thumb. "You want to fuck your cum into me?"

He's collapsing on top of you, light-headed at the thought. "You can't say shit like that to me."

"Why?" His head is resting on top of your boobs so you reach up, threading your fingers through his hair.

He's fantasizing about it. It's crazy. He's fantasizing about it and he's about to do it. He feels like everything has shifted in the past couple of hours and he can't remember why he didn't want to come to work today. He can't imagine that there was a time when he hated this job.

He sticks his tongue out and licks your nipple making you squeal. You wiggle your body and his cock moves in you and—yeah he's ready to go again.

*

"I want to be on top again," you announce.

He feels relaxed with you like he has already shown you all the sides of him, he can now be comfortable with you. "You like being in charge."

"Well, I am your boss."

He squints. "Does that mean you're paying to have sex with me?"

For once, you laugh at an actual joke he has made, instead of his idiot self. You lean forward and whisper in his ear. "Do you like being my hooker, Alex?" You're biting on the lobe of his ear and he swears this is heaven.

"Well, technically your dad is paying me so—"

You pull back and hit his chest, shoving him away from you. "Ew! Don't say things like that. Ew! Ew! Ew!"

Alex softly chuckles at the whole display and grabs a hold of your hips to keep you from moving around or off of him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I swear."

You slowly still and look back at him. You're staring and he's worried you've changed your mind. You lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, cuddling yourself to his chest. "I believe you." You pull back and peck him. "Are we ready now?"

He nods.

"No more bad jokes."

"I swear," he promises.

Once you've both composed yourselves enough, you start to grind your hips down into him, burying his cock as deep inside of you as you can.

"You're so deep," you tell him, placing a hand on his chest to lean forward a bit, before slamming back down. You move up and down his cock slowly at first before your body takes over and you start riding him faster.

Alex watches you move, his dick slipping through his own load, making it easier to move in and out. He reaches up, groping at your boobs as you continue to roll your hips in just the right way so that his cock is hitting all the right places deep inside of you. He can't decide between watching his cock disappearing inside of you or your tits bouncing up and down as you grind into him.

He opts for watching his cock, and slipping in and out of you somehow feels even more amazing while watching it. You alternate between rolling your hips and moving up and down on his dick, and when you lean back and give him a better view, he can see some of his cum leaking out of your hole, and sliding down his shaft. It just turns him on more, and he starts pumping up to meet your hips.

Your walls close in on him, tightening around him as you start to convulse on top of him. Your orgasm rips through you, causing your hips to buck and quake around Alex's cock, setting him off. He comes right after you, shooting a second load into your already cum filled pussy, the white liquid immediately starting to seep out of you because there was nowhere for it to go. You pulse together for a moment, your core sending pulses through his dick, completely overwhelming him. His legs shake as he comes down, spent.

"Fuck, that was nice," you sigh, moving off of him to collapse onto his side. Now that Alex isn't inside of you anymore, you can feel all of his cum starting to ooze out of you. "My bed is gonna get dirty," you say, but make no effort to move. You widen your legs to slip a finger in you, your digit getting covered. You lift it up to his lips. "Try it."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you, come on, try it," you encourage, poking the finger at his lips. He sucks on your finger. "How's it taste?"

It's an odd feeling, tasting his own cum. "I don't know," he laughs. "Good. I've never tasted jizz before."

You giggle and fall onto your back, stretching out. His eyes stare down your whole body, still captivated by your boobs. "I like it. Should I get other samples for you?"

He tugs you closer to him and you roll onto his chest. "Shut up," he mutters. You peer up at him so instantly, he'd fall at your feet if he was standing. Instead, he leans down and kisses you chastely with no intentions for more. "I should probably get back to work."

You pout and sit up, figuring it's best to clean up now. Or have Sonya change your sheets. "Okay."

Alex stands up and is quick to get his clothes back on, not wanting to be caught off the clock.

"Do you want to come back later?" You ask.

"Like tonight?" Alex questions. You're standing naked in the doorway between your bedroom and your bathroom and it's easy to say if you said, "Jump," he'd say, "How high?" 

"Yeah," you nod, "like sometime after dinner."

"Uh, yeah, sure," he quickly agrees.

You disappear into the bathroom. "Alright. Don't keep me waiting."

*

"You kept me waiting!" You whine as you open your bedroom door.

He walks in, shutting the door behind him. "Sorry, sorry. I was stuck fixing something in your dad's office."

You lean on him, your arms around your neck, pouting up at him. "What about me? Aren't I more important?"

Alex quietly laughs. His arms wrap around your waist, skimming up and down on your lower back. "I mean, yeah, but what did you want me to say to your dad? 'I have to go fuck your daughter.'"

You roll your eyes. "Fine. But you're still keeping me waiting."

"You want me to take care of you?" He flirts, eyeing you all around.

He nods slowly, looking up at him as he leans down and kisses you. You quickly back up into your bed and lie down on it together. It's much more caring than last time. It's slow and sensual and he does this thing where he strokes his hand up your side but doesn't try to take your shirt off. 

You make the first move, setting everything into action. You pull his shirt off, interrupting your making out. Alex seems to get the message to put a move on things so he lifts your shirt off and you're not wearing a bra, of course, causing him to mutter, "Fuck" at the sight of your naked breasts.

He smothers them, kissing them, rounding his tongue on your nipples making you moan. You grab his hair, your fingers clutch onto it. His hair is so messy and out of place already, you're just making it worse. 

Alex moves down, kissing down your body before he reaches your pajama shorts, so small and petite that your ass sticks out of them. He kisses the knot you've made in the front before slowly untying it, making you ache in anticipation. You lift your hips and he pulls them down agonizingly slow.

He looks back up, staring at your bare cunt. He takes you by surprise and suddenly his mouth is on it. You moan, your body shaking at the slightest contact, his tongue a huge relief. "More." He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks for a bit, the flat of his tongue applying pressure at the same time, before moving back down to your hole again, dipping his tongue as far into you as it will go. Your hand moves to grip his hair again, this time tighter, as he pumps in and out of you, pulling his face even closer.

Your hips start to buck into his mouth, driving Alex's tongue deeper and deeper into you, and you can feel yourself building up. "Fingers. Use your fingers." You commanded. He instantly listens, replacing his tongue with two fingers and moving back up to suck on your clit. He licks and sucks and pumps until you start quivering against him, your orgasm hitting you brutishly.

Once your shaking lessens, he kisses your lower stomach, waiting for your next instructions.

"Well?" You question. He takes that as an invitation to make his next move. He sits up and grabs your waist, spinning you around and setting you down on all fours in front of him. You let out a yelp at the movement. 

He pulls you back against him, lining himself up and slamming into you. The softness from before is gone and replaced with utter hard need. His sweetness slips through as he asks, "Does that feel okay?"

"Yes, it feels really fucking good," you heavily breathe out. Your face pressed against the bedsheets as you push your ass back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he pounds into you.

He wraps his arms around your stomach and continues the rough pace. "Do you want me to go slower?" He asks.

"No!" You quickly shout. You're clawing at your sheets, desperate for relief. "Keep going." So, as always, he listens as he hammers into you, his grip tight on your hips as he drags you into him.

"So close," you gasp out, bucking back into him frantically. He brings a hand up to your clit and his fingers work away, rubbing it for you. He feels right on the edge and you're only pulling him closer and closer. "I'm gonna..."

You don't get a chance to finish your sentence as you start to spasm against him, coming harder. Your body jerks as you orgasm, and just as you start calming down, you feel his cock throbbing before he lets go inside of you for a third time.

"Oh, god, fucking fuck, fuck," he moans, his body feeling totally out of control. You lie down, slipping off of him. You let your body vibrate for a minute or two. Alex watches, unsure of how to move, catching his breath. You turn your head and smile at Alex, whose eyes are glued to you. His chest heaving and his cock is still dirty, but his eyes remain on you.

"You're working tomorrow, right?" You ask.

He nods. "Yeah."

You smile devilishly. You sit up and kiss him sweetly on the lips. "I have just the job for you."

*

a/n: so...how y'all doing?

[hukelughes]

your writing of frat luke made me think about frat quinn (which we don't see a lot i feel like)

can you maybe write something about a situationship with him

You nod along to what he’s saying, an easy smile on your face. You like him, he’s easy to talk to, knows exactly what to say at the right time, and wants to know you. He’s exactly the person who you should want.

“So, I just eat shit down this hill as like ten scouts are looking straight at me, I’ve never been so embarrassed.” He laughs, putting his face in his hands, shoulders shaking as he recalls the moment. 

Your smile slowly fades as you give him a fake laugh, something you’ve perfected these last few dates.

“This guy puts his stick in front of my legs, and I fall down, y’know, like eat complete shit down to the ice as everyone’s watching me. My coaches, the scouts, my parents, my brothers. I swear if anyone ever finds that clip, I’m retiring and moving to the Galapagos to become a fucking biologist.”

You burst out laughing, head falling back as he watches you with a soft look in his eye. “Oh my God, do you even have a biology degree?”

“Nope, I quit college in my second year and was a Sports Management major. I would be fired on my first day, I think.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. The other one was gently holding your waist, with your bodies facing each other and your faces closer than ever. 

“Aw, well it’s a good thing you’re making it big now, huh?” You mumble, looking down at his lips. You’re not being subtle, giving him hints about what you want for about an hour now. “Quinn, can we go back to your place?”

“Yeah? You wanna go back to mine?”

Nodding, you lean forward enough that your breathing lands directly on his lips. “Yeah.”

He breaks the distance, hands now going to cradle each side of your face. Your lips meet for the first time, immediately tasting the beer he’d been drinking. Putting your fingers in his belt loops, you pull him even closer, if that was even possible. Your tongues brush against each other as you both fight to lead. It’s messy, passionate, euphoric, and you don’t know if any other man could kiss you like Quinn Hughes.

“Are you listening? Hello?” He snaps his fingers in front of your face, breaking you out of the memory. 

“Yeah, sorry, your story just reminded me of something someone told me.” You grimaced, looking down to fiddle with your rings. 

“How about we cut this date short and just go right to the good stuff, huh?” 

His words send a cold chill through you, instantly waking you up from whatever trance you were in. “Sorry?”

“What, you don’t want to fuck me, baby?”

“Not really, no. I’m just going to go now, if that’s okay?” Without waiting for his answer, you grab your jacket and your bag. You can hear him calling after you as you walk towards the exit. Once you’re out in the cold Vancouver weather, you finally breathe out a sigh of relief. 

Fumbling with your bag, you take your phone out and open up your contact list. You stop at ‘H’, thumb moving around in circles before you just click on it.

It rings three times before you finally hear his voice.

“Hello?” Quinn asks, his voice voicing his confusion as to why you were calling him during your date. “Y/N?”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try to gather your thoughts, before you close your eyes and let it out. “Can you pick me up?”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re still sharing your location with me right?” 

“Yeah, you should see me right away,” you hear him shuffling around, presumably getting up and grabbing his keys. “He really sucked.” 

“Did he?” Quinn hums, something about his tone tells you that he knew it all along. “Baby, I told you that you’re better off with me.” 

“I know, I know.” You absentmindedly kick a rock into the road. “I just thought our… arrangement wasn’t working anymore. Didn’t wanna get too emotionally involved with you.”

He chuckles under his breath, “yeah, well, it’s already too late for that. Here you are calling me to rescue you from your date.”

“Shut up. I was wrong.” You concede, rolling your eyes in the process. “What’s your ETA?”

“Hm, 5 minutes I think. Should be there soon, traffic isn't bad.” He estimates it's quiet for a second before he speaks again. “Mine or yours?”

“Yours, definitely yours.”

You aren’t talking about who’s place you’re staying at tonight. 

[luvrgirl4roman]

Party of Three

Roman Reigns X Solo Sikoa X Sequoia (OC)

Warning: 18+ Smut, cussing, unprotected s*x, mention of the N word, Threesome, Oral (woman giving and receiving), cum swallowing, creampie

Authors Note: This is my first fanfic in 15 years. I used to write them in HS.I'm nervous posting, but I'm just doing it. The bloodline and reading y’all fanfics inspired me. I hope y’all enjoy. If you have any tips, please let me know.

For two hours, I lingered at the hotel bar, numbing my boredom and disappointment with margaritas and tequila shots. Another work party, I had to fake a smile and pretend to give a fuck about my colleagues, especially since I didn't get the promotion I was overqualified for. At this point in the evening, the drinks were catching up with me. The bright lights of the bar, the black-and-gold wallpaper, and the feel of the black marble bar top had me feeling grown and sexy in my strapless black cocktail dress adorned with rhinestones, complemented by matching black strappy heels and a full 4C black fro.

As my finger twirled the rim of my margarita glass, I scanned the bar and locked eyes with a gorgeous Samoan man in a tailored grey and black Gucci suit. I shyly smirked and raised my hand to wave at him. He walked over, the black loafers clicking on the hardwood floor, and joined me on the bar stool next to me.

"Hello, gorgeous. What's your name?" he asked in a deep, sultry voice.

"Sequoia," I replied shyly.

"Pretty name for a pretty lady. My name is Roman. What brings you here?"

"Eh, just a work thing. What brings a sexy man like you here in that great suit?" I asked.

"Thank you. My cousin got married," he responded as he blushed.

As I enjoyed small talk with this beautiful man, I started to notice details about him: his salt-and-pepper wavy hair styled in a bun, a luscious beard to match, a chiseled jaw, and a smile that could light up the night.

While we enjoyed each other's company, a bearish-built Samoan man in black slacks, a turtleneck, a black suit jacket, and gold Cuban link jewelry with a black-and-blonde low-cut mohawk approached us.

"Sorry for interrupting—" I barely caught what he was saying after that because his scent was mesmerizing.

A good-smelling man is everything to me, and he was wearing Jimmy Choo Man Intense. The hints of floral and lavender had me squeezing my thick thighs together as I grinned. I noticed Roman watching my response to mysterious man.

"So, I have to tend to something with my cousin, I would love it if we could meet up later." Roman says

The mysterious man extended his hand to shake mine, offering a soft grip and a nod. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. I'm Solo."

"Nice to meet you too, Solo. I'm Sequoia." He smiles and nods at me. Roman and I exchanged phone numbers, he paid for my drinks, and then they disappeared from the bar.

I wobble up to my two-bedroom suite on the 10th floor. Upon entering, I’m greeted by the sight of a sleek black table centered in the main room, with fresh flowers in a gray vase that add a touch of elegance. I set down my black Coach purse and phone before heading to the shower. After drying off, I apply deodorant, smooth on body cream, spritz on some Valentino perfume, and slip into my silk black robe, layering it over a white tank top and black lace boy shorts. To complete the look, I slide on fuzzy black slippers, feeling both luxurious and relaxed.

 As I sat on the balcony, enjoying the summer breeze and the soothing sounds of the ocean, I couldn't get my mind off those two big Samoan men I had met earlier and how I wouldn’t mind enjoying both of their company tonight. That must be the tequila talking, as I’ve never had thoughts like these before.

After about an hour, my phone lit up with a text from Roman asking if I was still at the bar. I was so excited to hear from him! I replied I wasn’t, and he asked if he could come up to my room and hang out. I quickly replied yes, and within 15 minutes, he was knocking at my door.

I let my robe hang off my right shoulder to casually reveal my white tank top and hard nipples. I opened the door, and there he stood. "Hey Sequoia, how are you?" he asked.

"I'm much better now," I replied, scanning his body as he towered over me. He had brought a bottle of Patron tequila, a Walmart grocery bag, and had changed into a gray Nike Dri-FIT T-shirt that hugged his bulging muscles, along with gray sweats that outlined his other bulge.I moved out of the doorway to invite him in. As he entered, I noticed his scent of YSL—a manly woody fragrance that immediately caught my nose and turned me on.

"So you're the reason I couldn't book this suite," he joked.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't pass up the view," I replied, laughing. We both settled onto the black leather couch in the front room, and he pulled some shot glasses from his bag. "You done drinking for the night?" he asked, raising the shot glasses.

 "Hell no," I replied, grinning.

 As I downed the shots, all I could think about was how I wanted this man to dominate , and slut me out all over this suite, and I wouldn't mind if his cousin was there helping too. After about five shots, the conversation turned personal. He began asking about my love life and the last time I had sex. The tequila had me spilling my guts about my ex and my last sexual experience.

"My ex was a fuck nigga who cheated on me, but he wasn't the last time I had sex. I had a friend I used to see between boyfriends, and we had fun, but that was three months ago. It wasn't that good; he finished quickly, he didn't want to help me finish, so I kicked him out."

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that," he said sympathetically.

"Enough about me—what about you?" I asked him.

"I just broke up with my girlfriend three weeks ago because we weren't sexually compatible."

"Please elaborate," I urged, pouring another shot.

"Well, I like to dominate women in the bedroom, she didn’t share that preference further along in our relationship."

"What are some of the things you like?" I asked, intrigued.

"I like to tie them up, swat them with whatever’s handy or my hand, and I really enjoy edging. That really turns me on. Do you know what that is?" he inquired.

"Yes, I do. I've never tried it before, but it sounds frustrating," I said with a nervous laugh.

"If you give it a try, you'll find it greatly enhances your climax experience," he said to me.

"I'll definitely keep that in mind. Did you handle everything with your cousin Solo?"

"Yeah, we did. He's down at the bar getting drunk right now. Is it cool if he comes up here with us?"

"Yes!" I replied excitedly. Roman made the call, and within five minutes, there was a knock at the door.

I opened the door to find Solo in a red Nike tech suit and the Cuban link chain. He smelled amazing; it instantly got me excited.

"Hey Sequoia, nice to see you again," he said in a sultry voice as I allowed him to enter the room. He and Roman exchanged a dap before Solo took a seat on the couch while I sat at the table.

"We were just drinking and talking about sex." Roman explains.

"Well, pour me a double shot because this sounds fun!"

"She hasn't had sex in three months, man!" He blurts out to Solo.

"Awww, no, that's not good," Solo replies.

"I know, but it’s not that bad.  I might need that double for my trouble," I blurt out not knowing it left my lips.

Their eyes light up with excitement, and Roman asks, "Are you serious? Have you done something like this before...having two men at the same time?" At this point with this Tequila in me, I'm ready for whatever.

"Yes, I'm serious, and no, I haven't. But I'm willing to try anything once, and what better way than with you two gorgeous men?"

"We'll make you very comfortable, baby," Solo replies to me.

Roman takes me by the hand and leads me to the bed and sits me on the freshly washed, soft white sheets while Solo grabs a chair from the front room and positions it toward the bed. Roman begins opening my robe and exposing my hard nipples through my tank top and boy shorts, which are snug against my thighs.

"She’s beautiful, isn’t she?" Roman asks Solo, caressing my face with his hand.

"Hell yeah, Uce," Solo replies in a deep tone.

Roman removes my robe, then my tank top, rubbing my breasts gently. His hands move lower to my panties, and he pushes me onto my back, lifting my legs to remove my boy shorts. He drops to his knees and buries his head between my legs, beginning to taste me. He lifts his head, grinning, and says, "She tastes good too, Uce!" As he rolls his tongue over my clit, I feel a surge of heat spreading through my body. Before I know it, I feel my breasts being grabbed and sucked on, and when I open my eyes, it's Solo.

Looking down at these two men pleasuring me simultaneously sends a rush of ecstasy coursing through me. Roman is now sucking on my core while Solo takes one nipple in his mouth and plays with the other between his fingers. With three points of pleasure stimulating me at once, I can feel the tension building inside me as I begin to tremble and shake.

Sensing the vibration of my body, they lock in their movements, working in harmony to bring me closer to release. Suddenly, I feel like I'm losing control—my heart races, and my breaths turn shallow. "I'm about to cu—" I moan, but before I can hit my peak, Roman pulls his mouth away from my dripping center and says, "Not yet, baby."

I let out a whimper, and Roman sits up, his beard soaked with my juices. He looks up at me and smiles before pulling me in for a kiss. Behind me, Solo rubs my back and plants soft kisses along my skin.

"Are you ready to serve us like a good girl?" Roman asks. I nod, locking eyes with him as he towers over me. The combination of their colognes and the faint scent of the ocean air envelops me, making me willing to do anything to please these men.

Roman grabs my hand, stands me up, and turns me around for Solo to admire. He runs his hands from my thick thighs to my wet pussy, squeezes my belly, and cups my 44DD breasts, beginning to jiggle them. Solo's dark eyes observe me with a mix of desire and appreciation.

Roman then wraps his hand around my throat and asks, "Are you ready for us to have our way with you?" I let out a faint "yes," and Roman grins. Solo stands up, and he and Roman start to strip off all their clothes. They stand before me, their bodies adorned with tribal tattoos—Solo's covering his full chest and arms, and Roman's ink etched across his right arm and pec. Solo is stocky, with a thick, girthy 7-inch brown dick. Roman is muscular, his 8-inch dick prominent, veined, and looking eager for me. I am in awe of these sexy, bare men in front of me, and all I want is to be used by and please them.

Solo slides onto the bed, his back against the headboard, and I position myself between his legs. Roman slides behind me, pressing his long fingers into my voluptuous waist.I start to kiss Solo's pretty brown tip, and then I stretch my mouth wide enough to take all of Solo in. I'm feeling my body tense as Roman thrusts his 8-inch dick into me. My pussy grips him tightly the deeper he goes inside. He lets out animalistic grunts, speaking to me, "Look at you being stuffed both ways. You're so beautiful in this moment, taking both of us. Look at you creaming on my dick, such a good girl."

The moans from both men are loud as Solo fills my mouth. Roman goes deeper, and they start to move in rhythm. As I am tugged back and forth, the faint sounds of the ocean mix with Roman's aggressive grunts and Solo's deep moans. My gargling throat struggles around Solo's manhood while the slapping of Roman's balls against my clit, along with his hand on my ass, drives me crazy. Tears begin to form in my eyes as I am filled in two of my holes. Roman's large brown hand slaps against my ass, the sting sending waves of arousal through me, and I feel myself on the verge of exploding. I start to feel lightheaded, struggling to breathe with Solo's thick 7-inch member taking up space in my throat. "I promise I will let you cum this time if you make us cum," he says, pumping deep inside me. I nod my head, my throat too occupied for words. Solo runs his fingers through my 4C fro, placing a grip on it and increasing the pace of my head bobbing, signaling that he's getting close.

I'm trying to stay focused on Solo, but Roman digs his nails deep into my waist and quickens his thrusts inside me. Suddenly, Solo lets out a whine and holds my head still while his cum coats my throat. I swallow his hot, mixture of salty sweetness and redirect my attention to Roman. I begin to take control, throwing my ass back against him, showing that I can handle each pound he's giving me. He takes it as a challenge. "You think you can take me, huh?" he growls.

In an instant, he flips me over, dragging me to the end of the bed. He lifts my legs onto his shoulders and shoves his dick back inside me. "Solo, pin her arms down; I don't want her running from me." Solo grabs my hands, and Roman wraps his hand around my throat. "Damn, baby, you’re so damn sexy like this," he moans, a sound that makes me wetter.

The smacking sounds of his manhood slamming into me intensify as he hits my G-spot, creating an overwhelming sensation throughout my body. "Tell me how bad you want my cum, baby," he asks, shortening and quickening his strokes. "I NEED YOUR CUM, DADDY, PLEASE!" I scream out. He releases his hand from my throat, and at that moment, Solo begins to suck on my breasts, causing my body to shake uncontrollably from the combined sensations of Roman's dick and Solo's tongue flicking on my nipples.

"I'm cumming," I cry out while my body is convulsing. While I come down from that intense release, Solo begins stroking my face and says, "Good girl." Shortly after, Roman lets out a huge grunt and says while pinning me down, "Stay right there, stay right there." He slows his rhythm while sliding in and out of me, letting out a loud moan. I look down and see that his dick is coated with my juices and his cum. Once he fills me up, he grabs my face and says, "You did good, baby."

I lie back, trying to lower my heart rate and rest my body. After about 15 minutes, I get back up, robe on, ready for another shower, and Roman and Solo are fully dressed again.

"Did you want us to stick around?" Solo asks.

"Nah, baby, I won’t hold you. I have an early day, so I need to sleep," I reply.

"Okay, we definitely wouldn’t be sleeping tonight if we stay," he says to me.

I walk them to the door, and Roman turns and says, "If you want to have fun again, don’t hesitate to call, baby." He and Solo kiss me on the cheek and leave. I close the door with a smile and head for the shower.

[milaisreading]

Toddler manager said bad word and everyone get insane because they will absolutely choke the one who make her said that word. Pls

Author: hope u find the way I wrote this alright! Thank you for the request and for reading🩷

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open.

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

"I am just saying..." Aryu started off dramatically as Barou rolled his eyes, along with Rin.

"It's my turn to play with her." The long haired boy finished, moving the 2-year old (Y/n) out of their reach.

"Aryu, put her down. You know very well its my turn." Rin glared.

"Since when? You played with her for 2 hours yesterday, it's my turn." Barou interjected. (Y/n) kept silent as she focused her attention on Tokimitsu, who was playing peekaboo with her.

"I am here, and then I am not." The boy laughed as she clapped her hands while smiling.

"Shouldn't I be the one to play with her now?" Nagi looked up from his food.

"Play? You will probably fall asleep and forget she is there." Niko rolled his eyes.

"Aryu, we are teammates, so we should share the playtime-"

"No." The long haired boy said, glaring at Barou and Niko for even suggesting that.

Snuffy and Chris were laughing at their antics from a few tables away, while Noa was disciplining Kaiser and Isagi, who got into an argument.

"Where did Lavinho go?" Loki wondered, keeping an eye on Karasu and Rin, just in case they started an argument.

"Lavinho went to get Hayate and Miroku, we have to practice." Otoya grumbled, a little bummed that he can't take (Y/n) with him.

"I still think kidnapping-"

"No, Bachira." Snuffy cut him off.

"Shouldn't we give her something to eat before you play with her, Aryu?" Yukimiya suggested.

"Yep! I will go and ask Teieri-san if she knows where the baby food is." Hiori volunteered. Kurona said nothing as he showed his teeth to (Y/n) again, who was clapping and laughing at them. Meanwhile Gagamaru was patting her head a little.

"Don't destroy her glamorous hair." Aryu warned.

"Calm down, Aryu." Chigiri added from another table.

"It's really calm today with them." Chris commented to Snuffy.

"Let's hope it stays that way." Noa sighed as him and Loki approached their table.

"I feel like we don't have to worry about much today." Snuffy smiled, taking his glass of water.

While the coaches were talking, Hiori came back with the food and walked over to where (Y/n) and the rest were.

"Ah! You found it!" Isagi exclaimed as him and Kaiser approached the table.

"Great, I will feed her then." The blonde said, earning protests from the rest.

"You will drop her on her head." Rin rolled his eyes.

"Let me do it instead." Barou said.

"I will do it! I will do it!" Kurona's words were heard.

"I-I can do it too, you know." Tokimitsu said, trying to take (Y/n) out of Aryu's hold.

Kunigami rolled his eyes and looked at the child-sized manager for a moment.

"Just feed her. She is probably too hungry to care who does it, right?" Kunigami asked, smiling down at (Y/n). There was a short silence as the girl blinked up at Kunigami, and while watching them, Noa felt like a headache will hit him soon.

"Fuck..." The tiny girl said, causing the boys to either gasp or make a double take at her.

"What?!" Rin yelled.

"Fu...ck...." The girl looked at Rin, confused with his reaction.

"No! Bad word, (Y/n)!" Chris yelled, running over to the group as Snuffy started chocking on his water.

"I knew something would happen." Noa said as Loki tried to calm the Italian coach down.

"Give her to me." Chris said, taking (Y/n) out of Aryu's hold, looking at the girl like a heartbroken man.

"No, (Y/n)! Bad word! You can't say that!" Chris scolded her lightly.

"Fuck!" She repeated, laughing as Chris's face turned red in anger. Noa walked over to Chris and took (Y/n) out of his arms, knowing that he is about to blow up at the Blue Lock team.

"Fuck!" (Y/n) kept on repeating as Loki and Snuffy walked over to Noa.

"Shhhh!" Loki told her, shaking a little as he saw the pissed off look on Chris.

"Where did you learn that word now, little lady?" Snuffy raised his eyebrow, patting her head as Noa kept his attention on Chris.

"Hold it!" The Frenchman said, stopping the Welsh coach as he was about to yell.

"Th-thank you, Noa-san-" Reo started, but was cut off by the same man.

"No, not that. Snuffy, cover up her ears." The Italian caught onto what was going on and covered (Y/n)'s ears up. She blinked a few times and started giggling at him.

"Alright." Noa gave a nod of approval, ignoring the betrayed looks his team was sending him.

"You little brats!!! I will make you run 300 laps for this!!!" The blonde said, causing even the least emotional members to shake in fear.

"Karasu, Rin, what did you two do? Spit it out." Loki smiled at the two, who now started to stutter.

"We didn't do anything!" Karasu yelled, face paling from Loki's glare.

"I would never curse in front of her!" Rin added in.

"Don't yell, you two." Loki warned.

"S-sorry." The two stuttered.

"What about Tokimitsu?! Why are we the only ones accused of teaching her that?!" Karasu said, pointing at the nervous boy.

"M-me?! I swear I didn't do anything!" Tokimitsu said, looking at Loki. The French coach raised his eyebrow and looked back at Karasu.

"Seriously?"

"Niko, Aryu, Barou." The three Ubers members tensed up and looked at Snuffy, immediately aware of what was going on now.

"Hold on! I did nothing! I always keep my bad words to myself when (Y/n) is around!" Barou yelled at the coach.

"Cursing isn't glamorous, Snuffy-san." Aryu said, flipping his hair, earning a few claps from Tokimitsu.

"For legal reasons, I can't curse." Niko said simply as Snuffy massaged his temple. (Y/n) laughed at the man and stretched her arms out, demanding from the man to take her, which he ended up doing.

"See, this is why boys are stupid, little lady." Snuffy said slowly, sending side glares at the three boys.

"Isagi, Kunigami, Kaiser, Gagamaru, Yukimiya, Hiori, Kurona." The boys tensed and looked at the oddly calm Noa. The man was looking his normal calm and collected self, but his eyes shined in pure rage.

"We didn't do it!!" Isagi immediately protested.

"I never curse in front of (Y/n) when she is her normal age, why would I do it now?" Yukimiya added in.

"Me neither! I swear!" Hiori and Kunigami defended themselves, a little terrified of the older man.

"The only things I talk with (Y/n) about are the things I see in the woods." Gagamaru answered timidly.

"Neither did I teach her that. I don't curse. Kaiser, you have been awfully quiet, though." Kurona said, now all the attention being on the blonde.

"Hold it! I didn't say this either!" The German defended. Chigiri, Reo, and Nagi looked at each other and then at the clearly pissed off Chris.

"Before you start. It wasn't me." Nagi blinked.

"No curse words left my mouth either." Reo followed.

"A negative from me, too." Chigiri yawned.

While they were arguing, the door to the lunch room opened and inside walked Ness, Lavinho, and Lorenzo, looking at the chaos in confusion.

"What is going on?" Ness muttered, walking to the German team.

"Ome of your teammates taught (Y/n) how to curse." Noa said, earning protests from them.

"Or was it you, Ness?" The Frenchman glared at the magenta-eyed boy.

"No, I would never swear in front of a girl." Ness quickly added, a little worried. He never saw Noa this mad.

(Y/n) had now turned her attention to Lavinho and laughed, pointing at him.

"Fuck! Fuck!" She started, while pointing at the Brazilian. Chris was heard shrieking at that and Ness fainted from the shock.

"So it was you, Lavinho?!" Bachira and Otoya yelled, shocked that their own coach taught (Y/n) that word. The Brazilian chuckled a little, angering the coaches more.

"Well, she catches on quickly." He joked.

"Don't make jokes!"

"This isn't funny!"

"My poor child!"

Lavinho rolled his eyes at Noa, Loki, and Chris's words.

"You guys are being dramatic."

"Shut up!"

Snuffy sighed and called Lorenzo over.

"Watch over her while we hash this out."

Snuffy instructed the younger as (Y/n) jumped into his arms, hugging Lorenzo tightly.

"Sure thing. Come on, I think we should put you to sleep. It's past noon." Lorenzo said, holding (Y/n) tightly as he walked out of the lunch room, leaving Lavinho at the mercy of the pissed off coaches and Blue Lock team.

[nhlclover]

𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐁 | 𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐂𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘

summary: your boyfriend and his friends drunkenly create their own little fight club, in which he winds up getting hurt.

warnings: blood, mentions of fighting, mentions of drinking, slight angst, indications of nsfw content.

note: fun fact this is what my brother and his friends do for fun. they have their own walk up songs and everything.

word count: 0.9k

It was somewhere around midnight, or around when you finished page 4 of 8 of your paper, that you heard the crash and shouting from downstairs.

You needed somewhere to get your paper done, and with your roommate's boyfriend in town and the library closed at this hour, you turned to your boyfriend. He lended you his room while him and his roommates hung out downstairs.

They had been relatively quiet until a couple of minutes ago when the shouting started. You assumed they were playing video games, getting competitive as they normally do, however the crash was making you think something was wrong.

You set your laptop down, making your way out of Rutgers room and down to the living room where the boys were hanging out. As you turn the corner, you run smack into Ethan, coming out of the kitchen holding a wet rag.

“Oh, hey y/n!” He says, his voice louder and higher pitched than normal.

You are immediately suspicious, narrowing your eyes at the boy. “What’s going on? I heard a crash.” You ask.

“Nothing, just… spilled a drink is all.” Ethan says. You almost want to believe him but a sudden shout from the living room that sounds like your boyfriend makes you hesitate.

“Ow! Don’t touch it!” Rutger shouts.

You push past Ethan, going into the living room. On the coffee table are several bottles of beer, along with hockey helmets and boxing gloves. Sitting on the couch with a bright red gash on his left cheek, is your shirtless boyfriend, Dylan on one side and Frank on the other.

“What the hell is going on in here?” You ask. Ethan comes in after you, walking to Rutger to hand him the rag.

“Busted.” Mark says, standing beside the fireplace, sans shirt but wearing boxing gloves and a hockey helmet.

You look around noticing all of them shirtless, some wearing boxing gloves. “Okay what the fuck is going on?” You ask, now concerned more than anything.

“Hey babe.” Rutger smiles. He winces as his cheek muscles move. “How’s the paper coming?”

“Don’t change the subject.” You say.

“Okay, we had this really great idea that we would box but wear hockey helmets so our faces wouldn’t get fucked up.” Gavin explained. “But Roger here didn’t attach his helmet properly cause it slipped off, cutting his cheek when Mark gave him a sweet right hook.”

A look of horror appears on your face as you recognize the situation. “So you guys got drunk and decided to form your own fight club?” You ask.

There’s a beat of silence then all the boys nod, exhibiting a chorus of ‘yeah’s.

You shake your head in disbelief. “I am fully convinced none of you graduated kindergarten because what is wrong with you guys?”

They sense your disappointment, all of them hanging their heads slightly. You walk over to your boyfriend, taking the damp rag from his hand.

“C’mere.” You say, taking his hand and bringing him to the bathroom.

You re-wet the rag, dabbing it against the cut. He winces, pulling away. “Oh don’t be a baby, it's just water.” You say.

“Yeah…but it still hurts.” He mumbles.

He meets your eyes, reading the disappointed look on your face. “I’m sorry.” He says.

“Yeah, you should be!” You say, the fear that had manifested into anger spilling out. “Do you know how stupid this is?”

“It was just… a drunk idea.” Rutger shrugged.

“Exactly. What are you going to tell coach Naur when he asks where you got the cut on your cheek from? Are you gonna tell him that you got drunk and fought your teammates?” You ask.

“I didn’t plan to get my face all chopped up!” Rutger counters.

You step back, sighing. “I just… please be smarter?”

Your words seem harsh but Rutger understands what you’re saying. “I know. I'm sorry.” He says.

“I’m sorry too.” You say. “I was too snappy.”

“No it’s warranted. We were being idiots.” Rutger chuckles.

“You were being such an idiot.” You laugh, going back to cleaning his wound.

“I may be an idiot but at least I’m your idiot.”

You snort. “You really know how to talk your way out of trouble.”

“Hey, it works.” Rutger says, throwing his hands up in defense.

You clean away the rest of the blood, dabbing it dry. “You’ll need to go and get a proper bandage for it tomorrow.” You say.

“Or I don’t and I get a cool scar out of it.” Rutger says, checking out the cut in the mirror.

“No. No scar.” You shake your head.

“What? I thought scars were hot and mysterious?” Rutger asks.

You find yourself not being able to disagree with his statement, biting the inside of your cheek. You turn on the sink, cleaning the rag of your boyfriend’s blood.

“Oh I knew it.” Rutger smirks. He snakes his arms around your waist, making eye contact through the mirror.

He slowly places kisses up the nape of your neck, leaning around to place more on your jaw. You tilt your head, giving him better access.

His lips unlatch from your skin, you whimpering from the lack of contact. “How about a break from your essay?”

The pair of you exit from the bathroom, you sticking your head into the living room. “Sorry boys, the fight club is over. We’re heading to bed.” You tell them.

Rutger barely waits for you to finish your sentence before he hands your waist, yanking you back into the hall and towards the stairs. You let out a shriek as you’re pulled into his arms.

“Are you guys switching to wrestling now?” Mark shouts after you.

You guys ignore him and the rest of the boys jeering after you, stumbling your way up the stairs.

[puck-luck]

new beginnings | may 27 - june 2

note: before i start this, i just want to warn y'all that it's 24.4k. if you want to read this in one sitting, i recommend locking in.

please hit me up in my inbox to give me feedback! or your thoughts! or speculation on what's coming next! i want you guys to talk to me all the time and tell me every thought you have. if i could send each of you the google document and force you to leave comments, i would.

also, i think by the time this fic is finished, it might be long enough to be a novel. should we all work together to get it published?

1:90 – TREVOR

“Do we really think it’s a good idea to spend the summer down here instead of the Michigan house?” Jack asks. “We own that one, after all.”

“Everyone knows about the Michigan house,” Trevor points out.

Cole, who had plotted this with Trevor after last summer’s debacle, sighs. “We can’t keep having the same conversation. We decided that we would train at the Checkers’ rink when we can get down to Charlotte and use the cement slab as our own rink in the yard of the rental house in the meantime. So that’s not your problem. So, what is, Jack? You’re gonna miss the girls?”

Jack fixes Cole with a cutting glare. “Fuck off.”

“You know, there are girls in North Carolina,” Cole says, a grin dimpling his cheeks. “Sweet, southern belles, even.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “I can’t wait for the rest of the goons to get here. We’ll put it to a fucking vote and I’ll get to go home.”

“If you want to go home so bad, why don’t you?” Trevor asks. “We’re not forcing you to be here.”

“You triple-belted me in the backseat,” Jack argues. “You’re taking me away from Michigan and you can’t even let me have shotgun.”

“Talk, talk, talk,” Trevor mocks. “You have hands. And fingers. You’re not helpless.”

Jack huffs from his spot in the back, stubbornly turning his head to the right to watch the trees pass. Cole does the same from the passenger seat, tapping his fingers along the pane of the window.

There are twenty miles, an hour total, still on the GPS. Trevor hasn’t seen a town since they stopped at the gas station at the bottom of the mountain, the closest city being Winston-Salem almost an hour and a half ago, barely more than sparse houses and fields in the time since. They’re driving along a stream now and the latest exit off this small, two lane highway said “Love Valley.” Trevor snickers at the sign and goes to point it out to Jack, but Jack beats him to it.

“Don’t, Z.”

“It’s funny, dude.”

“It’s not, though.”

Cole cranks the volume up, drowning out the continuing argument that floats forward from the backseat. 

They drive on and Trevor thinks about it– everything. They have three unobscured months in Litchton, the only people knowing about their whereabouts are their families and coaches. The goons, as Jack referred to them, would be joining them sometime in the next day or two. Quinn and Luke had to wrap up some loose ends at home (Quinn, closing up his apartment for the summer; Luke, visiting some college friends as their semester comes to an end.

Litchton was the safest bet and Krebs had mentioned North Carolina to Trevor in passing the one time they caught up throughout the year, heaving heard from Leschyshyn that the mountain towns of his home state were notoriously quiet and drama-free and that their inhabitants, although lovers of gossip, kept to themselves. 

After those girls had snuck into the Michigan house at the end of the summer and started showing up wherever the boys went in the evenings, Trevor just wanted a summer off. He wanted time with his friends the way they used to have it, just working out together and drinking until they dropped, swimming and parading around the town like normal guys in their early twenties. 

In Litchton, they could pretend to be guys that were home for the summer, ready to start some corporate finance or everyday-tie job. It was a look into what could’ve been, had they not dedicated their lives to their sport. 

For three months, he gets to be Trevor Zegras, the kid who complained about his name being last on the roster in every class growing up and the kid who worked in his mom’s store after school. But he’s also Trevor Zegras, NHL superstar, ninth overall pick, owner of the best Michigan goal in the United States, so he might toss his name around in Litchton this summer. Just to see if it gets him anything.

If it doesn’t, his good looks certainly will. What’s flirting with a few old ladies on the street? It’ll be the highlight of their year.

Trevor misses the driveway the first time the car passes it. It’s hidden by brush and along a curve. The GPS reroutes them– but they have to drive an extra fifteen minutes along this road before they can turn around. 

They drive into a small town, a strip of eclectic stores littering the main road. There’s a small grocery store with a fruit stand out front that Cole points to.

“We could pick up some food while we’re out here,” Cole suggests. Upon hearing Jack’s mouth open in the backseat, he continues, “Just so we don’t have to come back later.”

Jack slouches against the backseat, huffing about being cut off at the opportunity to express his discomfort. 

“Jacky, will you relax? We’re going to have fun this summer.” Trevor tells him, turning into the parking lot and choosing a spot close to the entrance. 

Cole laughs when Jack unbuckles his three seatbelts in the wrong order and has to untangle them. Trevor flips the mirror down and fudges his hair, fluffing the ends. He had gotten it cut just before they left for this trip, so the edges were still even and sharp. 

Jack is the first to exit the car, practically throwing himself onto the pavement with his excitement to leave the vehicle behind, if only briefly. They’d been driving for hours. Cole flew into New York from Montréal, so Trevor had to pick him up from the airport. They picked Jack up in Jersey in the early morning and started driving south. 

Trevor can’t blame Jack for his annoyance. They’ve been in the car with him for ten long hours and they forced the first stretch of driving on him, having spent about two hours in the car before getting him. He had just woken up and had to drive four hours through the traffic of Philly and into Baltimore. He napped while Cole drove down through most of Virginia, and then woke up grumpy anyway when Trevor took over to take on North Carolina. 

It’s been a long fucking day.

They shop together, but they bicker quietly. After years of friendship, their arguments seem more like brotherly spats. The knowing smiles from the women in the grocery store prove that they’ve heard encounters like this before, likely in their own homes. 

Eventually, Trevor rolls his eyes and goes to sit in the car. He leaves Cole and Jack to pay for the groceries. Upon leaving the store, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and pulls up Instagram, hoping to catch up on the posts that he had missed on the long drive.

Walking past the fruit stand out front, Trevor bumps into someone and he stumbles back.

“I’m sorry,” Trevor apologizes, reaching out and steadying the girl with a touch to her elbow. “I didn’t see you.”

“Hard to see me when you’re on your phone,” she replies with a tilted smile. 

Trevor lets out a little laugh at her reply, barely a breath. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

She nods with an approving hum and turns back to the stand, picking up a peach and turning it over in her hand. 

Trevor turns and walks to the car, climbing into the vehicle and settling behind the wheel. He watches the sliding door for his friends, but his eyes drift back to the girl.

She’s tied a red bandana in her hair and she slips peaches into her mesh bag. She talks to the vendor, using her hands to speak. She’s pretty, he realizes, far prettier than the girls he knows from California. The vendor hands her a basket of strawberries, which she takes carefully, inspecting the red berries by twisting the basket’s handle from side to side, spinning it. Trevor can see her profile this way– the slope of her nose, smooth. Her eyelashes, long. Her lips, pink and pursed into a little smile. Her stance is tilted, one hand on her hips.

Trevor is back outside the car before he can think. He approaches her as she pays for her fruit, standing behind her when she turns around.

She jumps when she sees him. “You’re still here?” She asks.

“No, but I’m back,” Trevor replies, realizing just how lame he sounds. “My friends and I are staying here for the summer and I just wanted to introduce myself.”

When he falls silent after explaining himself, she looks at him expectantly. He can see the bottoms of her teeth as her lips part. “So introduce yourself.” She gestures for him to go on.

“I’m Trevor,” he says, sticking his hand out. “My friends call me Z.”

Her eyes drop to his hand briefly. She considers it before reaching up and taking his hand, shaking it. “Why?” She asks.

“My last name starts with a Z,” Trevor supplies. “Zegras.” The smile he gives her is strained, expecting her eyes to light up in recognition. They do, but it’s not in the way he expects.

“You’re Greek?” She asks, her interest piqued. 

“Yeah,” Trevor replies. “But not, like… Greek. I’m from New York, but I live in California now.”

At the mention of California, her face stiffens. She hums disapprovingly. “Got sick of the West Coast, I take it? Is that why you’re back east this summer?”

Trevor flounders for a moment. “I love California, but the guys and I always spend our summers together. Usually we’re in Michigan.”

“So y’all travel all around, huh?” She asks. She doesn’t sound impressed, which makes Trevor nervous. In fact, she sounds almost disdainful, but the look on her face appears as though she’s holding back a laugh. Whether that is at his expense, he doesn’t know.

“We’re very lucky,” Trevor confirms, nodding tightly. “Most of our travel is for work, though. We all work in the same industry and it involves a lot of, um, business trips.”

“Business trips?” She asks, letting the laugh overtake her this time as she looks him up and down. “You?”

Trevor looks down at his own outfit, the basketball shorts and loose t-shirt. They’re two of the few clothes he owns that are not branded with the Ducks logo. He scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “We’ve been driving a while and I wanted to be comfortable.”

“You certainly look comfortable,” She agrees with a nod, her grin knowing and wide.

“I didn’t catch your name,” Trevor says with a similar grin, shuffling forward just a step now that he’s got her smiling and laughing.

It’s then that Cole and Jack exit the grocery store, each with a hefty load of grocery bags on their arms. They’re laughing, so it appears Cole has managed to cheer up the sullen Jack in Trevor’s absence. Trevor watches the girl’s eyes leave his, drawn to the movement and volume of his two friends. He curses them in his mind, watching as they find him and decide to approach.

“I thought you were warming up the car, Z,” Jack accuses, his eyes flickering between Trevor and the girl. “D’you get distracted?”

Trevor bites his tongue before forcing a smile on his face. He turns back to the girl. “These are the some of the friends I mentioned, Jack and Cole. The other ones, Jack’s brothers, aren’t here yet.” Trevor knows he’s overexplaining, but he can’t help it. Something about this girl has him awkward and tongue-tied, yet his tongue can’t stop forming words and pushing them out.

“Yeah, your business partners.” She rubs a hand over her face, smoothing out the half-smile that was clearly keeping a laugh at bay. “Are they also from California?”

Cole snorts. “Business partners?” He repeats. “From California? No way. You’d never catch me dead in Anaheim, unless we’re playing there. Believe me, I’d be on the quickest flight back.”

“I just said we all worked in the same industry,” Trevor corrects, throwing on his most charming smile to try and salvage the situation. He wasn’t lying, but this girl might think he is, and that would be disastrous. He doesn’t know why, but it would be. He wants her to think highly of him and now he’s made two bad first impressions.

The second one is his friends’ fault, of course.

And she does think he’s lying– Trevor can tell by the way she looks him up and down, then Cole, then Jack. Her eyes squint imperceptibly at Cole’s mention of “playing” in Anaheim, rather than working. It was a statement that could have extended the conversation, but this girl seems to decide that she is uninterested.

She nods sarcastically, then scoffs quietly. “I have to go,” she says. “It was nice to meet you, Trevor. Have fun in Litchton this summer, boys.”

“Oh, we will,” Jack assures her. Trevor hates how his eyes rake over her, combing through each detail of her skin, her clothes, and her hair.

“Nice meeting you!” Cole calls after her as she walks away.

Both boys turn to Trevor, equally annoying smiles on their faces. 

“Shut up,” he hisses before they can say anything. 

“Who was that?” Cole asks.

“I didn’t get her name,” Trevor growls through gritted teeth. “She was just about to tell me and then the two of you showed up.”

“Boo-hoo,” Jack teases. “So you won’t be the first to bed a girl this summer, for… how many summers in a row is it now, Coley?”

Cole’s laughter breaks his face, but Trevor interrupts before he can speak.

“It’s not even a real competition, Jack. You only act like it is because you fuck the same girl every summer as soon as we get to the lake house. It’s trashy.”

“Being a winner isn’t trashy, Trev. In fact, maybe I should go follow after the girl you were just chatting up. I’ll show her how a real man flirts.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Trevor feels a flare of anger well up inside of him when Jack insinuates taking this girl for himself. It should be anger about questioning Trevor’s manhood, but it is not. “Get in the car.”

He stalks off, starting the car this time and situating himself behind the wheel. Jack vies for the passenger seat unsuccessfully, souring his mood yet again. Despite Cole’s smaller stature, Jack is the one left in the backseat with the bags of groceries around him. Soon, Trevor’s shirt joins him after a misguided throw to the trunk of the car where their luggage resides.

When they arrive at the house, Jack only carries the groceries inside. He claims he’s been stilted all day and Trevor can’t really do much to prove otherwise. Cole carries in his and Jack’s luggage into the home– a rental that Trevor paid good money to book for the entire summer. 

“I get the best room!” Trevor yells after them. “I paid for it! I want the ensuite bathroom!”

“Go fuck yourself,” Jack replies. He’ll leave the room for Trevor to take anyway. 

The three boys had planned this ahead of time. They would be in Litchton the whole summer, so they will take the three bedrooms that have king beds. Quinn and Luke will take the queen beds in the other bedroom, and the various guests throughout the summer will take the bunk beds in the basement. From the pictures alone, Trevor realizes that the house could sleep more than ten people. If they can find ten people, maybe they could throw a party. 

and invite that girl, Trevor thinks.

He’s taken aback by the thought and its suddenness. He doesn’t even know her name or if he’ll see her again– so why is he thinking of her?

Trevor shakes the thought and grabs his bags from the back of the car. He used an extra practice bag from the bottom of his closet in Anaheim to pack his clothes for the summer, so he has a free hand to open the door that Cole closed behind him. 

He finds the big bedroom easily and drops his bag in the closet, not bothering to unpack. He looks out the sliding door onto his porch, the wrap-around that encircles the entire back of the house. His porch holds two rocking chairs and a wooden bench. The house is built out of wood– almost overwhelmingly so– and the decorations match. His bedframe, his dresser, his bedside table, his small desk, the fan, even the blinds on the window… all of them are made of wood. 

His bathroom has double sinks and a granite countertop. The handles are gold in color, but likely not in material. The spout of the sink is more like a water spigot that one might find outdoors, but it’s classy. When Trevor enters his bathroom, he’s in awe of the jacuzzi tub and shower on the other side of the room. 

The tub and shower are both built from dark marble, bespeckled with lines of darker ore. The tub has wooden cabinets beneath the feet of marble on either side of the tub, which holds towels and toiletries on the right and left respectively. The tub has jets and a handheld spout that’s detachable. Trevor considers them. He can think of a use for both.

The shower is spacious with an overhead spout, wide and fancy. It has ledges for toiletries, as well as a seat in the corner. The door is glass and there is a hook for towels next to the opening. The shower stands from ceiling to floor, completely confined. Despite the windows to the side of it, the occupant of the shower would be completely hidden from sight, once the glass door steams up. 

Trevor explores the house further, but doesn’t take up residence anywhere. Cole and Jack seem to have put the groceries away while he found his room and looked around. Now, they’re nowhere to be found. They’ve likely taken up residence in their bedrooms for the night, tired from their eleven hour drive.

Lord knows Jack needs sleep before he braves this vacation. He always gets grumpy when he’s tired, part of the reason why he naps prior to every game. 

Trevor is glad that all of the boys can make it up for the summer. He can’t wait to get things started.

2:90 – HONEY

She wakes with the sunrise, as she does every Tuesday. It’s her first day of the week at the bookstore and she has to open. The Reading Nook is always closed on Mondays and she is one of three workers– the owner, Ada and her best friend since childhood, Bea. Ada opens the store on Thursday, whereas Bea opens it on Friday. Every other day of the week, the responsibility falls on her.

She makes her coffee and drinks it on her couch, looking out the window towards the mountains in the distance. It’s clear today and she can see the rows of mountains clearly– ten rows back. Once, her father had told her that if you could count ten rows back, you were looking at the mountains across state lines. If you could count ten mountains, then you could count all the way to Tennessee. 

She believed him, until she realized that the sun always rises behind those mountains. She faces east. Tennessee is to the west.

Still, the memory comes with fondness. It was before she moved away from home to pursue a life of quietness in the mountains, her favorite place in the world. Those days are long in the past. She has no interest in returning to them, given how far she’s come. The only person from her hometown that was welcomed into this new life was Bea and she has proven time and time again that she is deserving of that role.

Not only did they grow up together, but she got her nickname because of her friendship with Bea. As children, a long-forgotten teacher had made a comment about the two being attached at the hip, stuck together like glue. She had corrected herself with a laugh, evidently feeling clever when she said: “No, more like a bee to honey, right, girls?” From that day on, she had only gone by Honey and Bea had shortened her name from Beatrice to keep the analogy. 

She drives to The Reading Nook and unlocks the store, wiping the counter and sweeping the main room while she waits for her regular patrons to enter the store.

On Tuesdays, the “founding” women of Litchton convene in the bookstore and knit. Some days, Honey joins them. Others, she just wishes to sit and read at their table, listening in on the gossip of the week. The women are not so much founders as the grandmothers who lived in Litchton since their birth, having married and worked and raised families here. They are true Appalachian women– driven by superstition and fantastical solutions, lovers of a good story, and wonderful bakers who only crave to share their gift. They are churchgoers, often multiple times a week, and headstrong believers in their chosen politician. These are the attributes that Honey does not share with the women– she was an outsider, although she has been welcomed into the Litchton society since moving here. She attended church when the ladies asked her to, usually for the rare wedding or baptism. Rarer for a funeral, luckily. Honey does not feel any particular way about politics, at least not out loud, and she’s lucky that the ladies try to reserve that topic for the debates of their husbands over dinner parties, not the knitting circle on early Tuesday mornings.

Sacha is the first to arrive to the bookstore that morning, armed with blueberry muffins in a tupperware that Honey will have to wash in the little sink in the back while the women are knitting. Sacha has left one too many tupperwares and bowls in The Reading Nook and Honey won’t allow her to leave another behind. 

Honey plates the muffins for Sacha while the elderly woman secures the long table in the store for her friends. It does not take long for Scarlett, Gillian, Vera, and Rosalind to join. The women each knit their own project, waking up over coffee and muffins before the gossip starts.

It begins with Vera’s son’s divorce, something she had been dreading since he proposed to his soon-to-be ex-wife while they were still students at NC State. They had moved to Raleigh permanently, an action that Vera believes started this whole thing. When her son left home, and his wife finally revealed that she didn’t want children, Vera knew it was over. Or so she said. Honey thinks that she’s just butthurt about her son fleeing the nest… ten years ago. She wonders, briefly, if her own mother feels this way about her.

Honey shakes herself out of her thoughts as soon as Scarlett introduces the next topic, the topic that Honey knew was coming since the night before.

“Did you see those young men at the store yesterday? I know you always do your shopping on Monday evenings, Rosalind.” Scarlett tilts her head like she’s conspiring with Rosalind, like Rosalind has been holding information from the group.

Rosalind nods, eyes glinting behind her wired glasses. “They were such handsome boys. Lord, I tell you, if I were a young lady nowadays…”

She trails off and Honey stifles a laugh, looking down at the counter. She can feel the ladies’ eyes on her, no doubt hoping that the mention of boys piques her interest. Honey knows how these ladies were in their day– boy crazy but also efficient, looking for the perfect match and settling for no less. All of them prevailed, although from their complaints, you would never know their husbands were the loves of their lives.

“Ladies, you know this conversation would be better suited for Bea,” Honey teases. 

“Bea is too forthcoming, you are still somewhat of a mystery.” Gillian lifts an eyebrow. 

“Where is Miss Bea?” Vera asks. “Wasn’t she supposed to be here half an hour ago?”

Honey doesn’t stifle her laugh this time. “Miss Vera!” She exclaims. “It is a Tuesday morning. You know Bea has no interest in showing up to work for at least another hour.”

Vera shakes her head. “You and Ada have got to stop allowing her to show up so late.”

Sacha laughs. “As if they could stop her if they tried!”

All of the women, and Honey, laugh at the joke. It’s well established in Litchton that Bea is the tardy sort, whereas everyone else prefers to be early or on time. Bea has the attitude of a city girl, to quote the old ladies, but the work ethic and priorities of a Litchton woman. She likes her men, she likes her job, but she loves a nice lay-in.

“Besides,” Honey tells the women, hesitating with a coy smile before dropping the bomb of information: “I’ve already met those men.”

The effect is instantaneous. All of them drop their knitting onto their laps and gasp. Gillian clutches at her chest, always the most dramatic of the quintet. 

“My darling,” Rosalind marvels.

“Well?” Scarlett questions. “How? When? Tell us everything.”

Honey moves from behind the counter to an empty seat at their table. She sits next to Sacha, the woman taking her hand and holding it tightly. 

“You ladies seem to forget that I go to the fruit stand outside the store on Monday evenings,” Honey begins. “Which is where I ran into them. Literally, too– one of them had his nose buried in his phone and bumped into me. He could’ve knocked me over!”

“You should have fallen so that he could have helped you up,” Rosalind suggests. The women murmur in agreement.

Honey rolls her eyes. “I did not. He apologized, I told him that he only bumped into me because he was caught up in his phone, and he said he would be more careful next time.”

“Next time,” Gillian repeats, nodding. “So he wishes to see you again?”

“Turns out, ‘next time’ was about five minutes later, when I went to leave the stand and he was right behind me!” Honey reveals, purposefully lacing incredulity into her voice. She places a finger on her lips and widens her eyes, playing into the dramatics of the ladies as if to say “What do you think of that?”

The women gasp in time. 

“Which one was it?” Scarlett asks.

“I only saw the other two for a moment, so I don’t think I could describe them well enough to you,” Honey says. “The one I spoke to is named Trevor.” She pauses to roll her eyes before adding sarcastically, “But his friends call him Z.”

Scarlett and Rosalind nod and look to each other. 

“It must have been the one who left earlier than the other two,” Scarlett says. “With those awful tattoos.”

Honey bites back a giggle. Once a southern mother, always a southern mother. “He did have tattoos,” she confirms.

“You two would get along,” Vera suggests, not so subtly casting a glance at the leafy vines that crawl up Honey’s arm.

Honey goes quiet, glaring at Vera. She has worked to try and get the ladies to stop commenting on her body and habits over the past few years, but the ladies are stubborn and traditional in most senses.

“How long will they be here? Or were they just stopping through?” Gillian asks.

“They’ll be here all summer, so I’m sure we’ll get our fill of them.” With that, Honey effectively ends her role in the conversation. She returns to the counter and opens her book, pretending to read it.

She knew the ladies would have caught wind of the men’s arrival by now and would want to discuss it. She knew that the ladies would be interested in setting her up with one of these new arrivals. They were cute, she’d give them that. At a glance, any of the three could have been nice company at a brewery, but Honey wasn’t looking. She was perfectly content with finding herself and making her own life, even if it meant that she wasn’t finding a husband like most women in Litchton wanted her to do.

The other thing was this: Trevor hadn’t made the best first impression. He bumped into her, then startled her, then told her some story about business partners or colleagues that definitely was not true, and he was from California. He’s a yuppie, a hipster who probably enjoys the bustle of Los Angeles and can’t handle the slow, satisfying life of a small town. To her estimate, Trevor has got a week before he leaves Litchton for something more glamorous and fast-paced.

The ladies relay the news to Bea when she finally shows up for her shift, a travel mug of coffee in hand from which she sips throughout each tantalizing detail of Scarlett’s retelling. Upon Honey’s information, Bea’s eyes flicker knowingly toward the counter and Honey just shrugs. Bea’s eyes then narrow, accompanying a questioning tilt of her head. Honey shakes her head at that, and Bea lets it go.

“Well, I heard the reason that Mr. Mayes wasn’t at church last week wasn’t his hip acting up,” Bea says to the ladies when it’s her turn. That starts a whole new tangent for the knitting club, one that will keep them occupied and in their seats for a number of minutes. It gives Honey the time to slip into the back and cut up one of the peaches that she brought from home to snack on during work. 

The ladies leave The Reading Nook about an hour after Bea’s arrival, leaving the store empty except for the two girls and floaters looking for their next novel.

Bea leans against the counter with a smug smile, blinking innocently at Honey. 

“What do you really think about them?” She asks.

“I think they’re trouble,” Honey says. “They didn’t seem on the same page about their jobs, they don’t know anything about living in a small town, they travel a lot, and I think I saw one of them carrying a 48-pack of beer.”

“Are they cute?”

Honey fixes Bea with a stare that could put a stop to anyone else’s questions. Unfortunately, Bea is immune to Honey’s intimidation tactics and her sarcastic jabs. She sees right through them. Honey’s silence is another thing she sees through.

“Interesting.” She draws herself up to her full height. 

“I think you would find them cute,” Honey says.

Bea hums. “You can’t backtrack now. You said enough without saying anything at all.” She crosses her arms over her chest then leans back down onto the counter. “So, tell me, Honeybear,” she muses. Fortunately, she changes the topic. “Did you get my strawberries from the stand, or were you too enthralled by the pretty boy in front of you?”

“He wasn’t pretty.”

“Sure he wasn’t.”

Honey scoffs, then leaves to the back to grab the basket of strawberries. She does so carefully, not touching the strawberries in case she breaks out in hives like she did last time. Bea swears that more exposure to the fruit would “cure” her allergy, but Honey only picks up the baskets to humor her. Honey doesn’t think she’s missing out on much, being allergic to strawberries. It’s her peaches that she would miss, and the blackberry pie that Ada makes when her vines turn ripe. That’s something to look forward to– blackberry season is starting and Ada could show up with a pie any day now.

The day continues slowly, with Ada making an appearance to close down the shop with the girls and help unpack a new shipment of books. After they’re done, Honey and Bea head to their respective homes.

Honey curls up with her book in her bed and listens to some music before the soft noise of the background and the comfort of her blanket draws her to her sleep.

3:90 – TREVOR

They have to go to the hardware store today. 

Yesterday, the boys wasted the day, sleeping later than they have in weeks. They ate a late breakfast, which turned into their lunch. They played pool on the pool table, ping and beer pong on the foldable table, and sunbathed out on the porch. Cole watched lazily as Trevor and Jack tried to outline half of a rink in chalk on the cement slab. They never finished the other half of the rink.

Today, they have to go get some wood and tools to make the rink into a 3D structure so the pucks don’t go flying into the woods when they shoot them. Trevor and Cole are the ones who are supposed to go to the store– Jack has decided to stay behind and wait for Quinn and Luke if they show up while the other boys are at the store. 

A convenient excuse, even though the goons are planning to show up today. Trevor expects the brothers to try and weasel their way out of working on the rink, claiming that they’re too tired from travel or they need more time to unpack. The thing is, the boys are flying into Charlotte and renting a car for the summer so that there will be two at the house, so they’re only driving for like an hour compared to Trevor’s eleven. They have no right to be complaining, but they will likely enact a vote and outweigh Cole and Trevor because if the Hughes are anything, it’s lazy and loyal to each others’ laziness.

They’re very driven, but only when they choose to work. When it comes to hockey, they’ll work all day. When it comes to creating the hockey rink or putting together equipment, they would much rather watch. Jim spoiled them that way– he was always the builder of the family and the boys were left to go do whatever they wanted as long as they weren’t annoying their father.

Trevor and Cole put off the trip as long as they can, hoping that maybe the Hughes brothers will show up early and they can force them to go to the store before they can even get out of the car. 

When the clock hits two, Trevor decides that the waiting is useless. They could’ve done so much during the day instead of sitting around waiting, but no. He was lucky enough to sit around and do nothing all day and watch stupid daytime TV with Cole while Jack read his texts with his brothers out loud.

The hardware store would be heaven compared to this.

He leaves without Cole at first, driving slowly down the driveway until he sees Cole’s figure run out of the house and after the car. Trevor can imagine what he’s saying as he yells after the vehicle– something about not being left with Jack in case the other Hugheses show up, something about how Trevor is a dick. 

They follow the one road on the mountain up to the strip where all the stores are. The hardware store is just a few doors down from the grocery store, so they park in the same parking lot.

Cole and Trevor walk side by side, Cole’s eyes on his phone as they walk while Trevor takes in the brick walkway beneath them. Names are etched on some of the bricks– Jude Doyle, Frederick Lawson, Ansley Hood… Grandma. Trevor has seen stuff like this before, but there’s something different about these names being etched on the bricks of this small town. Everyone probably knew these people, or knew someone who knew them, when they died. It’s so personal.

When they reach the hardware store, Trevor holds the door open for a man leaving. They give each other a curt nod, just a passing glance. Trevor sees absolutely no recognition in his eyes and comments on it. Cole doesn’t care, and says so. Trevor punches his shoulder.

“Welcome in,” the elderly woman at the counter greets. “What are you boys looking for?”

“Hi,” Cole replies, a charming smile on his face. “Could you point me towards the power tools? I can find my way from there.”

The woman smiles and points toward the back of the store. “They’re on the left, sweetie.” She turns to Trevor. “And what about you?”

“We’ll be needing some plywood,” Trevor says. “We’re building a little roller rink.”

“Oh, how fun!” The lady, named Vera if her nametag has any truth to it, claps her hands. “How much do you need, dear?”

“How much have you got?” Trevor asks. 

Vera waves her hand. “I don’t know. I’ll call Earl, he’ll send you off with what you need.” She turns and takes a breath before shouting the man’s name. Trevor’s heard that shout before– his grandmother used to do the same thing with his grandfather. 

The balding, age-spotted man appears at the door to the back of the shop. “I done told ya I have my hearing aids in, woman,” Earl grumbles to his wife, fond and mean and familiar in the way that only a couple who has been married for fifty years can be. 

Vera smacks Earl’s arm as he ambles by her. Earl pulls his arm away and puts another foot between them. 

“What do you need, young man?” Earl asks.

“Lots of wood,” Trevor says. “A couple of sheets of plywood and some 2x4s, maybe?”

“Boy, you do not think I have all’a that laying around.” Earl fixes Trevor with a stink-eye. 

“Don’t you tell him that!” Vera chimes in. “I know you’ve got plenty of wood out back because you bought all of it and never finished our damn basement.”

“I’m going to finish it!”

“Earl, you’ve been saying that for thirty years, you ain’t never finishing the basement.”

Trevor wants to laugh at the absurdity of this conversation. He wants to laugh at this domestic argument and how unreal it is that it’s unfolding in front of him. Instead, he clears his throat. “Excuse me,” he interrupts gently. “I don’t know if I want thirty year old wood for this. We’ll be hitting pucks off the boards all day and I’d like to keep the pucks inside the rink, please.”

“You’re a hockey boy?” Earl questions with a raised brow. When Trevor nods, he lets out a grunt. Trevor can’t tell what that means. Nonetheless, he waves Trevor to follow him into the back.

Trevor squeezes past Vera– she pinches his butt, he thinks– and catches a glimpse of her knitting under the counter when he walks by. She’s knitting something green. It’s too bundled up for him to tell what it is, though. Maybe he’ll ask later.

When he enters the back room, Earl gestures around. “Take your pick of the wood and make a pile over there–” he points to the corner– “and you can drive around back and we can put the wood in your truck there.”

“Oh, I didn’t drive a truck down,” Trevor says before he can help it. Earl makes a face. “But my friend and I can carry the piles ourselves to the car, don’t worry about that.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Earl gripes, shuffling away to sit at a bench with a circular saw and a half finished product on the table. 

Trevor sifts through the wood, all neatly arranged into piles of similar sizes– but labeled completely wrong. Trevor thinks that Earl might’ve refused to follow Vera’s labels when she first put them up in the shop, but realized that they’re more helpful than harmful. He’s just petty enough of an old man to ignore the labels, but follow the categorization.

Trevor ends up with a pile of ten sheets of plywood– four that are as long as lunch tables, and six that are just squares. Those will go behind the goals, while the long ones will go around the sides of the slab. He picks up a couple of 2x4s, just in case he needs them, and throws them on the pile with a clatter.

“I’m going to go grab my buddy,” Trevor says to Earl.

Earl grunts, but doesn’t budge. He also doesn’t look up from his station.

Cole is chatting up Vera when Trevor rejoins them. He’s leaning over the edge of the counter, asking about Vera’s knitting and her grandchildren. He’s got a bag of goodies next to him– powertools and nails, Trevor assumes. 

“Coley, come help me,” Trevor interrupts.

“No manners, this guy,” Cole says to Vera, scoffing and pointing his thumb at Trevor with a shake of his head. 

“Well, don’t keep the bear waiting,” Vera replies. Trevor watches her pinch Cole’s ass as he passes, but Cole just laughs and bats her hand away.

Fucking annoying. Always so good with the grandparents.

“The bear?” Trevor asks once Vera is out of earshot. “Is that me?”

Cole smirks. “We’ve got nicknames.”

Earl looks up when they reenter the back. He lets out a laugh, just a short bark. “This is your friend who’s going to help you carry all that wood?”

As the smirk falls off Cole’s face, Trevor picks it up.

“I can carry some wood,” Cole insists. “Probably all of it. I’m stronger than Z is, anyway.”

Earl’s gaze slides over to Trevor. “Z,” he repeats. “I hope you don’t stick with that one.”

Trevor laughs. “You sound like–” he cuts himself off. He never did learn her name, anyway. What’s it to this old man, who he sounds like?

Cole picks up on it though. “Like who, Z?” He asks with a tilt of his head.

Trevor glares at him. 

“I don’t give a rat’s ass who I sound like and I don’t want to hear your smug little bickering,” Earl admonishes. “Get your wood and get outta my shop.”

Trevor laughs in Cole’s face, then pushes him over towards the pile of wood. “Go on, strong man.”

Cole makes like he’s going to throw a punch at Trevor– Trevor doesn’t flinch, because he hasn’t fallen for that since their first stint on the US team– and puffs up his chest before deciding to pick up the long pieces of wood.

“Compensating for something?” Trevor asks.

“Go fuck yourself,” Cole replies cheerfully, turning on his heel and swinging the wood around with him, hoping to hit Trevor in the stomach. Trevor jumps away.

He picks up the rest of the wood and follows Cole out of the shop, bidding Earl a quiet farewell.

Earl grunts.

Trevor nods to himself, not surprised by the response. Vera is much more sad to see them go, gushing over how strong they are and telling them to come back soon. 

“What’s your nickname?” Trevor asks suddenly, as they load the wood into the back of the car.

Cole grins, crooked and smug. “Sweetie.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Oh, I assure you, I’m not. I’m a real hit with the ladies.”

“Yeah, you’re a real fucking hit with the married seventy year olds,” Trevor scoffs. “Don’t fucking talk to me, dude.”

Cole laughs, tossing his head back. He looks over Trevor’s shoulder. “Hey, isn’t that your girl?”

Trevor spins around. “Where?” He asks, looking to his left and right. 

When Cole starts cackling behind him, Trevor takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “I’m gonna fucking kill you, dude.”

“Bear, you wouldn’t know what to do without me.” Cole pats Trevor on the chest before rounding the car, settling in the passenger seat.

“Fucking passenger princess,” Trevor seethes. 

“You wish you were me.”

“I fucking don’t.”

“The more fucks you say, the more fucks you give.”

“Fuck off.”

They drive back to the house in silence, Trevor’s knuckles white as he deliberates driving off the mountain and taking Cole with him. There are pros, certainly, the top one being that Cole would no longer be part of this vacation. The cons, unfortunately, outweigh the pros: without Cole, Trevor would be alone with the Hughes brothers all summer, except for the occasional visiting savior.

Quinn and Luke have arrived by the time the duo returns to the mountain house. They brought with them another SUV, this one only slightly bigger than Trevor’s vehicle. It’s got a third row of seats, but it’s cramped– they’ll definitely have to take both cars down to Charlotte when they go to practice. Because of the limited trunk space in Quinn’s rental car, Trevor’s car will likely end up being the gear car. 

Which is lucky, because who wouldn’t want to spend three hours total in the car with smelly gear while the other car gets to have fun and smell nice?

On second thought, the time alone might be good for Trevor. He loves his friends, he really does, but it’s hard to be around them for so long. He’s lucky that they’re all on different teams, that they keep up when they can, and that it’s not constant. Jack can’t escape his brothers, especially not Luke, but Trevor can escape all three of them.

He spends the evening building the outdoor rink, mostly alone. Quinn helps a little bit, mostly chalking up the lines on the remaining half of the slab. He holds the wood for Trevor while he screws some nails into the pieces to keep them in place. They work mostly in silence, as they often do. Trevor is itching to talk with Quinn, see how he is, but he knows that Quinn is a man of few words. He also knows that Quinn is quick to say that Trevor talks too much. They’re at the point in their relationship where Trevor lets Quinn dictate how much they speak.

Luke tries to cook dinner, he does. Trevor can’t fault him for trying. Jack had to jump in to save them from burnt steaks and soggy vegetables, and even if he can’t salvage everything, he does a pretty good job. Luke apologizes and does the dishes. He’s quiet for the rest of the night, falling asleep on the couch during the movie they picked out, and Quinn wakes Luke like a good big brother and shoos him to bed. 

It’s more calm than the lake house, Trevor thinks. They’re not really doing anything differently, are they? And yet, here they are, sitting together in calm silence. They’re drinking bottled beer and laughing over the same jokes they’ve heard a million times, reminiscing about summers past and what they’ll do this summer. Quinn wishes for a lake. Jack tells him they’ll find one.

Trevor goes to bed when the movie ends, frogs croaking past his bedroom window in the depths of the night.

4:90 – HONEY

It’s a Thursday, so Honey gets to sleep in until nine. Sleeping in until nine means that she really wakes up at eight, because she just can’t sleep in late after working at the bookstore for five years now. She sits on her couch on Thursday mornings and reads. She does the crossword in the Litchton Local, the newspaper that comes out weekly on Wednesdays. 

There’s an immeasurable stillness in the mountains.

Honey noticed it the first time she came up to this house as a child. Everything moves, like the bugs outside and the leaves on the trees, but everything is so still. Like it’s being held in place by something bigger. She knows the feeling well, but it’s comforting here. 

At home, it was uniforms and piano lessons after school. She loves piano, even still, but there was something so crushing about the weight of her perfect posture on that bench when there was all the pressure of beauty breathing down her neck.

Home, Honey thinks again, and laughs. 

In the mountains, all of the beauty of the world is there and present and taking up space– but it’s not forced. It’s not the idealized version of everything. It just is.

And everything is so green, especially on a rainy day like this. Honey thinks there’s something sacred about the greenness of the mountains, but it’s the melancholic side of divine that leaves you waiting for another whisper or breath in the wind that never comes.

She used to have a piano that she could play in the mornings. She toted it to the antique store down the road when she made the mountain home hers. Sometimes, she wonders why she did that and regrets it, staring at the dents on the floor where its legs used to stand.

But then she remembers that she’s thinking about the past again and she shakes herself out of it. Five years later, but it’s hard to forget all of the things you grew up knowing.

Honey picks Bea up on the way to work, relishing in the girl’s consistent lateness because it allows her the chance to catch up with her friend. They see each other every day, yes, but the bookstore isn’t suited for some topics.

Such as Bea’s current woes:

“I’ve run out of dating app men,” she complains.

Honey bites back a smile. “Did you run out, or did you just swipe left on all of them?” She asks knowingly.

Bea cuts her eyes at Honey. “All the ones I swiped left on are ugly,” she says. “I can promise you that.”

“Is anyone good-looking in Litchton, Bea?”

Bea’s silence speaks for itself.

Honey laughs, her hair whipping around her face in the breeze from the rolled-down windows of her car.

“If I had known you were dragging me to the Ugly Capital of the World, I wouldn’t have come with you,” Bea announces, like it matters. She’s a liar. She wouldn’t have let Honey leave their hometown without her, no matter where she was going.

“You couldn’t turn it down, you had to come,” Honey replies. “Especially since they asked you to be Mayor.”

Bea gasps, affronted. She stares at Honey, her jaw hanging open. “Are you mad at me? Be honest.” She pouts, her voice whiny.

“Oh my God,” Honey groans, rolling her eyes. “No, I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay, well, stop being a cunt, please,” Bea sasses. If Honey were more annoyed, she’d reach out and slap Bea’s arm for the attitude. “We have to go to work and I need to put all my focus into pretending to like you.”

“Yeah, because it’s so hard to like me,” Honey says. Her voice is dripping with sarcasm, monotone and grating. 

“Yeah, it is, you suck.” Bea flips her hair over her shoulder, digging through her bag to find her Walmart lip gloss. She smears the cherry flavored gloss over her lips and puckers up, batting her eyelashes at Honey exaggeratedly. “Gimme a kiss.”

“No.” Honey pulls up to The Reading Nook and parks on the street in front of the building, parallel parking with the practiced ease of someone who’s been dealing with nothing but parallel parking (except in the grocery store and church parking lots) for the last five years.

“Ugh, one day you’ll kiss me,” Bea mutters, staring forlornly out the window. 

Honey rolls her eyes. “Bea, we’ve already kissed. You weren’t that good and I didn’t like your lip gloss then, either.”

Bea cringes. “That was like ten years ago, Hon. Things have changed since then. Number one, I’m not in middle school. Number two, I’ve had boyfriends and I’ve had sex since then. Number three, you know it wouldn’t mean anything. I want you to try my lip gloss so bad, come on.”

Honey stares. Bea’s got a stupid smile on her face, teasing and annoying. They hold each other’s eyes for too long before Honey speaks. 

“You’re insufferable, did you know that?”

Bea nods. “You are so easy to work up.”

Bea and Honey exit the car at the same time and enter the store through the front, the bell jingling behind them. Ada greets them from behind the counter, teasing Bea for being late again and threatening to cut her pay. She never will, never. Bea is too good with the kids, too happy to talk to mothers, and just dry enough to understand the miserly old man that walks through the door looking for a new World War I book. 

In the back, Ada has a bowl of biscuits and jam that Honey reheats and eats over the counter before she starts her day. 

She’s supposed to reshelve some books from their Borrow Before You Buy section, the part of the store that acts as the town’s public library. It’s a small task. The pile of books that were returned yesterday is less than a hundred. A good portion of the books are little kid chapter books, the kind you could finish in an hour as an adult because the font is so big and there are full-page pictures twice a chapter. 

Bea has to read to the kids at noon– some of the mothers bring snacks, like the end of a youth soccer game. It’s like a potluck lunch and the kids love Bea. Most weeks, it’s just her, but since it’s summer, she’s starting to bring in guest readers. Honey refuses to do it every time. Well, that’s not true– she acts as guest reader once a summer, right before school starts. It’s her one moment of the year. 

As she’s restocking the books, Honey hears the bell twinkle with each new customer that walks in. She’s grown used to the noise over the years, so it doesn’t draw her eye anymore.

What does draw her eye, however, is the blunt tap on her shoulder. When she turns around, Bea is blinking innocently at her– no doubt the offending hand in this scenario– with Trevor by her side.

“I was just talking to Trevor here, Honey,” Bea says. “And he was wondering if we had any books that a man his age might like. I thought maybe you should talk to him.”

Honey glares at Bea, purposefully obvious about it so that Trevor sees. What does she know about book recommendations for a man in his twenties? He probably wants some shit sports biography, or worse– he’s embracing his inner old man and he’s ready to venture into the world of World War I non-fiction. Either way, book recommendations are Bea’s thing, not Honey’s. She just stocks the books, builds the shelves, and bonds with the old ladies who come in on Tuesdays.

Bea shrugs with a coy little smile– Honey wishes she could slap it off of her face– and disappears behind the stacks. Honey can tell that she’s still listening from a few feet away, always nosy and overly interested in Honey’s exploits. If she can’t indulge in her own, she’s happy to butt in on Honey’s.

“Trevor,” Honey says, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn’t wear a bra today. She doesn’t trust him not to look. She also doesn’t trust her nipples not to peak in the cold air. 

“Is Honey your real name?” Trevor asks. 

She balks at him. “What is it with you and my name?”

Honey expects Trevor to back down, to act timid and normal and earnest like he did at the fruit stand on Monday. She expects him to apologize, yet again, for another inadvertent mistake that Trevor seemed unable to avoid. It’s because he doesn’t think– he just says the words as they come to mind, hoping that the sentence comes out fully formed and making sense.

And yet, he doesn’t.

“Just wanted to know what name I’ll be saying when I’m telling you to come,” is what Trevor answers. 

Honey gathers her wit quickly, scrambling to find a response to Trevor’s bold statement. She wants something clever, something to turn him down, something to tell him that he’s a cocky prick for saying such a thing while she’s at work, but she comes up with none of the above. Instead, she settles for: “It’s a nickname.”

A smirk tugs at Trevor’s lips and Honey wants to reach out and strangle him. He’s smirking because he thinks he bested her– bested her– and that he’s got the upper hand.

“What kind of book are you looking for, Trevor?” Honey changes the subject, trying to get back on task. She turns, continues restocking the Borrow Before You Buy shelves. 

“I’m not sure, Honey,” he replies, really milking his use of her name. “What kind of books do you think I’d like?”

She glances at him, looks him up and down. She tamps down a smile and says in a curt, monotone voice. “Guides on how to make the best of your business trip.”

Trevor laughs at that, more of a shake of his shoulders than a real laugh. “You’re funny, Honey.”

Honey raises her eyebrows and waits for him to continue.

“Hey, that rhymed. Maybe a book of poetry? I need to study my craft if I’m going to be waxing poems about you.”

He’s bold, she thinks. He’s really bold, much more sure of himself than he was on Monday. He’s much more confident, a sharp 180º from where he was the other day.

“Why don’t you keep your waxes to yourself?” Honey asks.

“How can I?”

She turns to him, planting a hand on her hip. “Don’t you have something to do today other than bother me at my bookstore? You don’t even know me. Why are you here?”

“I’m here to get a book. I’m not trying to bother you, I’m just trying to make conversation.” Trevor shoves his hands in his pockets and has the decency to look ashamed, even if it’s just for a split second and just to see if Honey will crumble. She knows his type. She’s seen them before.

“You’re flirting with me,” Honey accuses. “Not making conversation.” She puts air quotes around the last two words.

Trevor smiles. “You caught me,” he says simply, no shame evident in his voice. The smile stays on his lips as he and Honey look at each other. He raises his eyebrows and she takes it as a challenge.

“I’m not interested, Trevor.”

“I could show you a good time, Honey.”

“In Litchton?”

“Don’t you hear how good it sounds when I say your name? It’s like we’ve been hooking up for ages and I’ve got a special little name for you.”

“A name that everyone else uses.”

“It’s special to me.”

“How about a self-help book?”

Trevor clutches at his chest, jaw dropping in fake-misery. “You think I need help?”

“If you’re not going to buy a book, then you need to leave me alone.” Honey places the last book in her stack on the shelf and looks at Trevor expectantly. The silence sits between them, suspended for a moment.

“Do you have any books about space?” He asks. 

Honey notices that his voice is softer, a little more genuine. She examines his features, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She waits for the joke about not wanting space from her, needing her in his orbit, or whatever. It doesn’t come. She scans his figure one last time, realizing that her brow is furrowed and she’s chewing on the inside of her bottom lip as she does so. She smoothens her expression, hoping Trevor didn’t pick up on her calculating stare.

“How do you feel about creative nonfiction?” Honey asks.

Trevor scrunches his nose.

“Memoirs, personal histories, stuff like that,” Honey supplies. She softens her voice to match his tone. She almost feels a little shy. “We only have one book about space that I’ve read and it’s creative nonfiction, but it’s really good.” Quieter, then: “I liked it.”

Trevor nods, a little hesitant. This is the Trevor she met on Monday. “Okay.”

“Follow me.” Honey leads him to the nonfiction section, to the rows of books whose authors bear a last name that starts with ‘D.’ She runs her fingers along the titles of the books at the height of her chest while scanning the upper shelves. “It’s there,” she says, pointing to the row just out of her reach. “It’s by ‘Dean.’” She looks down, around her on the floor. “Where’s my step ladder…?”

“I can reach it,” Trevor says, stepping forward. He places a hand on the small of Honey’s back and reaches up, fingers hesitating as he searches for the right book. When he finds the spine bearing Dean’s name, he bounces up on his tiptoes for just a second to slide the book from its position on the shelf. 

Honey has never been more aware of a hand in her life. His touch is light, just a passing glance really, but it weighs on her. It’s like she’s standing in quicksand and she waited too long to try and get out.

He’s so close to her when he stands flat on his feet again. He’s got the book in one hand and his other still rests on Honey’s back.

She steps away.

His eyes follow her, but instead of saying anything, he just flips the book over in his hand. He reads the back cover and as he does so, Honey puts more space between them. She takes a breath, trying to stay quiet, and grounds herself.

“Is it really any good?” Trevor asks. “Do I have to buy it?”

“Yes, and, um.” Honey throws a look over her shoulder. She lost track of Bea while she and Trevor went to find this book. Fuck, her nosey best friend could be anywhere. “You can borrow it. We just usually give people a week or so to bring it back, and if you don’t, we track you down.”

“Track me down?” Trevor asks, chuckling. 

“Yeah.” Honey nods. “Small town. Everybody knows everybody, or knows somebody who knows everybody.”

“Stalking me, Honey?” Trevor teases.

“We’ve met twice, and both times it was because you came up to me. If anyone is the stalker here, it’s you.”

Trevor turns the book over in his hand again, looking down to avoid Honey’s gaze. “Leaving Orbit, huh?” He bites his lip and takes in the sight of Honey in front of him. He taps the book with his other hand. “I’ll let you know if it’s any good.”

“I know it’s good. I read it.”

“Baby, if you knew good, you’d be all over me.”

Honey scoffs. “Alright, fun’s over. Get out of here, Trevor.” She shoos him away, practically pushing him out of the shop. She sticks her tongue out at him through the glass after closing the door behind him. She watches him laugh, run his hands through his hair, and turn away.

‘Zegras’ is written in bold letters across his back, the number 11 in the center of his t-shirt. The detail catches Honey’s eye as she watches him walk away, down the street towards a car with a New York license plate that looks far too perfect and expensive to belong in Litchton. She bites the inside of her lip again, pondering. If anyone asks, she doesn’t care, but Trevor’s different than anyone she’s ever met. She wonders why.

But no, she doesn’t care.

Bea does.

“He plays hockey,” Bea announces, revealing herself. “He’s good, too. NHL. He was a top ten pick when he was drafted.”

Honey just nods. Twice. That’s all she needs. They’re small movements and she’s still chewing on her lip.

“What did he get?”

Honey clears her throat. “Just the, uh, Dean book about space.”

Honey can practically hear the face Bea makes behind her back. “You think he’ll enjoy that?” Bea asks. “It’s really personal.”

“It was the only book I could think of,” Honey replies with a shrug. She finally turns around to face Bea. “You’ve got to stop spying on me. I know you listened to our whole conversation.”

Bea pouts and stomps her foot, the sound echoing along the stacks around them. “How could I not?” She demands. “‘Just wanted to know what name I’ll be saying when I’m telling you to come?’ Honey, girl. Be serious.”

“Bea, you know I’m not looking for that right now.”

“You’re never fucking looking for that,” Bea hisses, pinching Honey’s wrist until she flinches away. “It’s falling into your lap and you’re pushing it out the door! What’s wrong with you?”

Honey glares at her with a tilted head. 

Bea relents. “One of these days, I’m going to kick your ass,” she threatens. “You can’t be a spinstery old maid forever, Honeybear. They’re only here for the summer. Maybe you should embrace it.”

“He’ll be gone within the week.”

Bea sighs. “Whatever you say.”

5:90 – TREVOR

“We need to throw a party,” Trevor says over breakfast.

“Why?” Luke asks, voice scratchy from lack of use. He yawns and runs his fingers through his hair, further messing up his already messy curls. He’s not wearing a shirt– none of them are– and Trevor is astounded by how pale Luke is. 

“We need to get you outside more,” Trevor mumbles, then clears his throat and continues speaking. “It’s like a housewarming thing.”

Unimpressed, Cole rolls his eyes. “Who do you want to invite?” He asks.

Trevor pauses, side-eying his friend. “Nobody,” he deflects. 

Quinn snorts, the spoon he’s using for his cereal clinking against the side of his bowl. “Not much of a party.”

“He wants to invite the girl that he met the other day,” Jack says, butting into the conversation. 

Luke frowns. “What girl?”

“Some townie that he met at the fruit stand when we went to the grocery store,” Jack explains. “He doesn’t know her name.”

“Her name is Honey, actually,” Trevor interrupts. 

The table stills. Each of the boys’ eyes turn towards Trevor and he suddenly feels like an ant under a child’s magnifying glass, boiling under the glare.

Cole pushes up an invisible pair of glasses and raises a finger, pursing his lips. “Actually,” he mocks, then drops the tone. “How do you know her name, Z?”

Trevor shrugs noncommittally. “I ran into her when I went into town yesterday.”

“Oh, when you were supposed to pick up laundry detergent and you came back with a book instead?” Cole asks. “That makes sense, much more sense than what Luke said.”

Trevor blanches. “What did Luke say?”

Jack snickers.

Trevor turns to Luke. “What did you say?”

Quinn smiles and hides his face, taking a large mouthful of his cereal to leave Luke hanging if he asked for help.

Luke flushes. “I mean, you know… that maybe you confused the two.”

“How the fuck would I confuse laundry detergent with a book?” Trevor snaps. “They’re two completely different things, fuckface.”

Luke throws his hands up in surrender. “We were just thinking of reasons why you might’ve come back without the one thing we needed.”

Trevor looks around the table. “You guys are such assholes.”

“Bro, you’re the one that forgot laundry detergent because you were too busy chatting up some chick,” Jack defends the group. “Now we can’t even do our laundry.”

“If it’s so fucking important to you, go get the detergent yourself!”

A smile breaks out on Jack’s face. “Maybe I will,” he says, his voice shit-eating. “I might need to grab a book for myself, too.”

Trevor’s anger increases tenfold, for no fucking reason. “The fuck you do,” he snaps. “You don’t even know how to read.”

Jack’s face twists, his emotions finally aligning with Trevor’s own. “Fuck you, dude. You know I can read, I just don’t like to.”

Trevor scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I just want to have a party,” he mutters, stabbing at his eggs with his fork. 

The boys fall into silence, finishing their breakfasts. Trevor pouts, frustrated that the boys weren’t immediately on board with his idea for a party. 

If they were in Michigan, the Hughes brothers would have the front door of the house unlocked past 10pm. The people they know from the golf course, from the lake, from the pickleball courts would all be pouring through the doorway and into the party. Everyone knows that on Saturday nights, the Hughes brothers invite people over and they have a big bonfire. Apparently, that only applies in Michigan.

Trevor leaves the breakfast table first, to jeers from the other boys about being pouty and bitchy for not getting his way. Trevor knows that he’s going to invite Honey and her friend– Bee? Bea? B?– over tomorrow night no matter what the goons say. There’s not much to do in Litchton, he knows that, so he doesn’t want to leave the girls out. Otherwise, they might just sit at home all night. Trevor can’t have that.

Obviously, that’s his only motive. He would never have any other reason to invite Honey and Bea over to the house at night. Never.

Maybe one other reason.

But that’s irrelevant. 

He spends the morning outside, using the extra wood from Earl to build a fire pit in the half-circle clearing near the edge of the forest. When they were younger, Trevor’s sister might’ve thought this area was where the fairies lived, and maybe she would have built them a house. He wonders briefly if Honey was the same way when she was a child, when she was growing up in rural Litchton with nothing else to do but imagine.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t know if Honey grew up here. She seems so intimately integrated into the town that she has to be from here, has to have grown up here. She must know all the town secrets and all the town gossip and fuck, Trevor wants to know all of that and more. 

He can’t explain the feeling he has about Honey. He’s just… drawn to her. It doesn’t make sense– he doesn’t know her. He’s barely met her. She did not exist in his life a week ago and yet, she’s popping up in his thoughts like they’ve known each other for years. Like they’ve been inseparable for years. When he thinks about it, he decides that Honey is like one of the girls he would have met in elementary school in Bedford. Honey is one of the girls that he would have grown up with, one of the neighbor girls from down the street with whom he rode his bike on hot summer days. 

She’s got a hometown charm feel to her. Trevor has to see her again.

He finishes building the wooden part of the fire pit before realizing how stupid it was to build the pit out of wood. A lightbulb seems to go off in his head, though, because it’s an excuse to go see her, to invite her to his party. He can go to the hardware store on the way, pick up some stone and gravel to line the wood, protect it from catching flame. He can pick up some firewood from the grocery store for their first fire and pick up the laundry detergent he forgot yesterday. Jack won’t be so annoying then.

Trevor doesn’t bother telling the boys where he’s going– he just gets in the car and drives away. 

It takes all of fifteen minutes to make his way to the bookstore. It’s still early, so he doesn’t even know if it’s open yet. Trevor and the boys are so used to waking up early for hockey that they’ve been up for about two hours and the whole day is still ahead of them.

When Trevor pulls at the front door of The Reading Nook, it doesn’t swing open the way it did yesterday. He knows the doors are easy on their hinges, considering how easily Honey slammed the door behind him yesterday, but today, the wood is barely budging. He knocks on the door, loud. 

Honey’s friend’s head peeks out from behind a stack, confusion written all over her expression. Trevor waves at her, gesturing at the door. She laughs, then approaches the door. She points down at the ‘Closed’ sign hanging near the handle.

Trevor tilts his head, unimpressed. “I have to talk to you,” he says through the glass.

Bea unlocks the door and opens it with a snorted laugh. “What’s up, Trevor? Honey’s not here yet.”

“I have a proposition for you.”

Bea steps aside and lets him into the store. “You want her.”

Trevor sputters at her honesty. “I don’t know her.”

“You want her,” Bea repeats with a nod and a knowing smile. “And you want to know how to get her.”

“Well, yes,” Trevor says. “But also, no. I wanted to invite you– both, you both– to a party tomorrow night.”

Bea smiles. She crosses her arms over her chest. “You want my best friend and all I get is some measly party? Come on, Trevor. What’s in it for me?”

Trevor thinks for a minute. “What do you want?”

Bea laughs. She pokes her tongue into her cheek and looks expectantly at Trevor.

“Whoa,” Trevor says, taking a step back. “That’s really… forward, but–”

“I don’t want you, Trevor,” Bea scoffs. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “So self-centered, Honey was right about that. But, I’ll help you get her and I’ll make sure we make it to your party if you give me what I do want.”

Trevor hums, narrowing his eyes. “What do you want?”

Bea smiles, devilish and conniving. “The dating pool up here is pretty dry, and I hear you’ve got a few friends.”

Trevor nods.

Bea blinks at him. “Do you have any pictures of these friends? I would’ve looked you up, but Honey and I swore off Instagram years ago.”

That makes sense. That’s why he couldn’t find Honey when he looked her up last night– not that he had much to go off of. Still, “Honey Litchton NC” didn’t reveal many results.

Trevor fumbles with his phone, showing her a picture of the group from last summer. He watches her fingers pinch and zoom in on the picture, on each individual. She keeps her expression neutral, a poker face that impresses Trevor. She hums, thoughts racing behind her eyes too quick for Trevor to understand them. 

“We’ll come to your party,” Bea says simply, handing the phone back to Trevor. She snatches it back at the last second. “Wait,” she says, and clicks around for a second. 

Trevor waits, then she hands the phone back. On the screen is a contact page for ‘Bea McLean.’ 

“It’s pronounced like McLane,” Bea tells Trevor. “Since you’re so obsessed with names.”

“Okay,” Trevor cuts her off with a sarcastic nod. 

Bea laughs. “Don’t get sassy with me, I have all the power here.”

“Yeah, but I have your number,” Trevor flaunts.

“I could just block you, easily,” Bea points out. “Then where would you be?”

Wisely, Trevor bites his tongue. After a deep breath, he asks, “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. Now get out, Honey’s supposed to get here soon and I don’t want her seeing you. She’s annoyingly on time. She’ll know we’re in cahoots.” Bea, much like her best friend did yesterday, pushes Trevor to the door and shoves him through it. She slams it behind him, flipping the sign so it says ‘Open’ instead, and waving Trevor off with a blown kiss.

she’s a flirt, Trevor thinks. those guys will not survive her for a second.

He doesn’t know which boy she has her eye on, but it doesn’t matter. Quinn’s too quiet for her, Luke is too awkward, Jack is too cocky, and Cole is too… short. 

Trevor snorts at the insult, laughing to himself. He heads to the grocery store, where he parked, and purchases two gallon bottles of laundry detergent and a Sharpie. He writes “JACK” on one and puts them both in the trunk of the car. Then, he walks to the hardware store. 

“Bear!” Vera greets from behind the counter, joints creaking as she moves from her chair behind the counter to give Trevor a hug. 

“Oh, Vera, you don’t have to come all the way over here,” Trevor says awkwardly, but hugs the woman back nonetheless.

“Of course I did!” Vera exclaims. “You look so handsome, young man.”

Trevor blushes, shying away from Vera’s examining fingers. She squints at the logo on his chest, one of his shirts from Anaheim. 

“I live in Anaheim,” Trevor explains to the woman, catching her hands in his and holding them securely in front of her body before letting go. “Do you have any stone that I could secure a fire pit with?”

“Yes, baby!” Vera claps and leads him to a section of the store that’s, somehow, even more peculiar than Earl’s workshop. There’s bags of gravel, sure, but it looks like fish food compared to some of the other bags and miscellaneous stones on the shelves. “Pick whatever you’d like. I’ll give you a discount for being so darn cute.”

Trevor chuckles. “I bet you give that to all your customers,” he teases.

“I had a local girl put it in the computer for me after we met you and Sweetie on Wednesday,” Vera teases back, batting her eyelashes. Her cheeks are red with blush, too much blush. “His discount is a little more because I see you’ve changed the body God gave you.”

Trevor follows her eyes to his tattoos. He rubs his opposite hand over them sheepishly. “Yes, ma’am.” He tries to smile charmingly. “Maybe I should’ve sent him to do the shopping today, since you like Sweetie so much.” He throws a wink into the mix to punctuate his sentence.

Vera laughs, a twinkling sound.

“Plus, it’d be cheaper for me,” Trevor says, like it’s a scandalous secret.

“I know that’s right!” Vera claps again, waves a hand at Trevor like she’s slapping her knee. She walks off, back to the counter, leaving Trevor to shop for his stones. 

He shops through the stones for about half an hour, choosing his favorites. He settles on a midsize gray stone, one that he can stack and seal with cement. He buys the quick drying cement as well, and carries it all to his car. Vera carries the quick dry cement and giggles when Trevor easily shifts the stones in his grasp when she complains about the bucket being too heavy for an old lady. He picks up the bucket and shifts the stones again, knowing he can carry more than this if he needed to. He swears he hears Vera sigh dreamily behind him as he packs the car up.

Like he said, what’s flirting with a few old ladies?

When he bids her goodbye with a kiss on the cheek, Trevor makes eye contact with Honey in the bookstore window. He grins at her and winks to her for good measure. He thanks Vera for her help while he escorts her back to the store, just for the sake of Honey seeing how selfless he can be. He’s not self-centered, no matter what she told Bea. 

Vera insists that Trevor and “his band of boys” join her and Earl at church that Sunday morning, pledging to introduce them to the other members of the community. Trevor agrees, thinking that being on Vera’s good side might get him even closer to Honey.

Trevor drives back to his home for the summer to find that the boys are playing in the rink he built.

Come to think of it, he’s making a lot of improvements to this property, and the only one who has actually helped is Quinn.

Not self-centered at all.

He deserves a party.

“We’re having a party,” Trevor calls out, carrying his stones toward the fire pit. He dumps his supplies on the ground. “And I invited two girls.” He wipes the dirt and dust from his fingers. “Someone else needs to finish this fire pit because I’m tired of building your shit. C’mon, Quinn.”

He leads the way inside, to grab a beer from the fridge, and Quinn follows after kicking off his skates, eager to avoid the work. The other brothers and Cole are left dumbfounded on the concrete. Jack makes eye contact with the cement mix first, and he smiles. 

They always did love a little project, and maybe they can hide a drawing of a dick in the cement for the owners to find at the end of the summer.

6:90 – HONEY

“Where are we going?” Honey asks. 

Bea has barely crossed over the threshold of Honey’s home before the question falls from her lips. Bea’s been cagey about it all day– just explaining that “we have plans” and that “you’ll enjoy them.” Honey loves her, sure, but this is absurd. She feels like she’s being kidnapped. 

“More like when are we going,” Bea corrects. “Let’s get you an outfit.”

Honey stumbles back, Bea pushing her out of the way. She closes the door behind her friend, following Bea as she stomps up the stairs to Honey’s bedroom. Bea knows Honey’s place as well as she knows her own, a little townhouse off of the main street in town. Honey’s lucky to live a little farther from city center, closer to the magic of the mountains. 

“What kind of plans do we have, at least?” Honey presses. She looks at Bea’s outfit– a jean skirt that falls like an old Poodle skirt and a white bandeau top. It’s sort of see-through– Honey can see the shadow and outline of Bea’s nipples through the skimpy top. “I don’t want to dress like you,” Honey says.

Bea scoffs and turns to Honey. “My plan tonight is to get laid, your plan tonight is to accompany me while I evaluate my prey.” 

Honey pretends to gag. “I hate when you say that.”

“Maybe you’ll find someone to flirt with,” Bea says. 

“So, where are we going tonight? Statesville? Winston?” Honey asks again, hoping Bea will relent since she now knows the purpose of their adventure. 

“Dude, I’m not telling you,” Bea laughs. 

She reaches Honey’s closet and throws the curtain open. She strolls into the closet, looking through Honey’s clothes. 

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Honey asks, looking down at her athletic shorts and little tank top.

Bea turns around and surveys Honey. “The shirt is fine.” She returns to her task. “Nice tits.”

Honey looks down. It’s a revealing top and she’s not wearing a bra, because it’s a Saturday and she didn’t know they had plans until Bea told her this afternoon. “Maybe not, then.”

Bea glares at Honey out of her peripheral. “But that’s your favorite tank.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to get hit on if I wear this shirt.”

“You’re going to get hit on anyway. Keep the shirt.”

“No, I won’t, because my bitch face will keep most of the guys away.”

“Most of the guys. Which is the whole thing. Those ones will come to me.”

“Ew, you’re going to have a threesome tonight?”

“A threesome?” Bea spins around. “God, no! One at a time for me, thanks. I’m just going to fuck the other ones.”

“Other than who?” Honey asks. “I’m not fucking anyone tonight.”

Bea rolls her eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“Trust me, I do.”

“Whatever.” She digs through the closet, finding a long-buried white tennis skirt, the back pleats of the skirt puffy. Honey would never wear something like that, but Bea would– it’s probably Bea’s skirt in the first place. 

“I’m not wearing that,” Honey states.

Bea wrestles her into it– seriously. She tackles Honey onto the bed and literally redresses her, the absurdity of the situation so bizarre that it completely bypasses both girls’ minds. Honey fights Bea the whole time, but Bea comes out on top. She gets her way, Honey wears the skirt, but she’s not happy about it.

“Do I, at least, get to drive?” Honey asks.

“Oh, I was going to force you,” Bea laughs. “You don’t expect me to drive you home, do you? I’ll be… indisposed.”

Honey scowls the rest of the time they spend getting ready– Bea does Honey’s hair and forces Honey to put on some light makeup, just a bit of mascara, eyeliner, and some lipgloss. 

The only problem with Bea and Honey’s relationship is that Bea likes to go out, likes to meet people, likes to have a wild time, whereas Honey prefers to stay in. She’d rather watch a documentary or read a book or be present in nature than packed into a club dancefloor like a sardine in a larger can. Not that that matters to Bea.

By the time they get in the car, Bea is jumping off the walls trying to keep her secret destination to herself. Honey keeps trying to push, hoping for the right moment, but Bea won’t reveal her plans. All she does is direct Honey to the main road and type away at her phone, sending text after text to an unknown recipient, an unknown recipient that Honey is sure they’ll be meeting up with later.

They drive further into the mountains, to Honey’s surprise. They don’t head towards Winston or Statesville. They drive up, farther from town, farther from their neighbors. Near the top of the mountain, the houses are miles apart.

Perfect for a party.

Perfect for a party… thrown by boys in their twenties.

It clicks in Honey’s mind as Bea tells her to turn into the hidden driveway along the curve. “You’re not,” Honey says.

Bea laughs. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to catch on. I thought for sure you would’ve clocked me when we turned left instead of right.”

“Bea,” Honey scolds, her voice sharp. They’re on the driveway now, safe from the curves of the road, and Honey stops the car. She turns to her best friend. “You can’t be serious.”

For all of her audacity, Bea manages to understand the gravity of the situation at hand. It finally clicks in her head, why Honey isn’t happy with her plans, and why she’s even unhappier that she was dragged out here without knowing what she was walking into. She can’t just drop Bea off and leave– she would be abandoning her best friend in a house of strange boys all evening. Bea might be outgoing, but she hasn’t been hurt like Honey.

“It’s not going to be like that,” Bea reassures Honey gently, grabbing Honey’s hand with both of hers. “I promise, they’re not like that.”

“You don’t know them, Bea,” Honey explains. 

“You don’t either,” Bea points out. “And this time, we’re together. The second they do something– I mean it, the second– we’ll leave. I’ll go with you. Fuckery be damned.”

Honey grimaces, rolling her shoulders to try and relieve some of the tension. She takes a deep breath, then squints at Bea. “Are you really going to fuck all of them?” She asks.

Bea grins, knowing that she’s convinced Honey to at least try and hang out with the boys. She’s smug, getting her way once again. She winks at Honey, coy. “Just the ones you don’t want,” she simpers, giggling. “You get your pick of the litter.”

“I don’t want to fuck any of them. I don’t know how many times we have to go over this.”

“So, you don’t want Trevor? ‘Cuz I was thinking–”

“Don’t fuck Trevor,” Honey groans. 

“Why not?” Bea teases.

“You’re better than that, Buzzy,” Honey scoffs with a shake of her head. “He’s weird and a flirt and annoying.”

“I’m weird,” Bea says. “And a flirt. And annoying.” She puckers her lips and blows kisses at Honey as she shifts the car into drive and begins to creep down the driveway again. “Maybe it’s a match made in heaven, me and Trevor.”

“You don’t want him,” Honey growls, her voice short. 

Bea shrugs and faces forward in her seat, her hands tapping her thighs. Whether it’s from nerves or excitement, Honey can’t tell. If she had to guess, though, it would be excitement. Bea is the least anxious person that Honey knows, the kind of person who can talk to anyone or anything no matter the situation.

While they might be athletes, they’ve never met anyone like Bea. Honey never has, not since she met her best friend all those years ago. They’re fucked– and she’s irresistible.

Honey and Bea pull up to the house and park under the cover, right next to the front door. This house was a point of contention when it was being built the first year Honey moved to Litchton. It was her first introduction to the gossip of the founding ladies. Scarlett and Gillian had felt particularly perturbed by the building– a five bed, four bathroom house complete with a hot tub and a game room and two stories of wraparound porches. 

And it’s all made of the same wood, the same stain, the same ugly pattern. Honey cringes when she thinks about the number of trees that were cut down to make this house match. She’d think the same thing if it was made entirely out of the same stone. 

Bea knocks on the door as Honey wipes her sweat from her palms. It takes a minute, but then Honey hears the scrambling of feet and the shouting between one man and his group of buddies, who are just giggling as they do what they can to cut him off from the door. Honey can see it through the thin windows bordering the door, how they rush up the stairs and down the hall. She can also see how they’re holding Trevor back as much as they can.

The brunet from the first day opens the door with a charming smile. “Hi,” he greets. “Can I help you?”

“Jack, you motherfucker–”

Honey bites back a laugh as Trevor curses and struggles, still in the grasp of the shorter boy from the first day and one of the newcomers– another brunet, a taller one. She looks at him carefully– the curl of his hair at the nape of his neck, partially hidden under a baseball cap, the curve of his eyebrows, and the slope of his lips give him away. He must be one of Jack’s brothers. 

“We were invited to come over tonight,” Bea replies.

No matter how many times she hears it, Honey is always impressed by the way Bea turns on her charm and makes the people around her melt. It worked on her, too, when they first became friends all those years ago, and then less and less when Bea moved into Honey’s place when they first came to Litchton together and shared a bed for almost a year before Bea found her own townhouse. Then, her charm just got annoying, like a younger sibling who tags along with you everywhere because Mom said they had to.

It’s better for them when Bea and Honey have their time apart. Honey, especially, needs her time alone.

Jack’s eyes finally find Honey behind Bea and he grins. “That’s right,” he says, tapping his forehead like he just remembered. Honey can tell that all he’s doing is messing with Trevor, though. “The party! You must be the girls that Z invited. Hi, Honey.”

“Hi, Jack,” Honey replies, short and sweet. She turns on her customer service voice just for this. She finds Cole next to Trevor and smiles when her eyes slide over the imprisoned boy, as passive as she can be. “Hi, Cole.”

“Hey, Honey,” Cole says with an easy smile. Honey wants to snort and laugh– he’s got a smile that could get him into or out of anything. She wonders briefly if he’s childish and impish, still, even in their adult age, just because he’s got the smile to match.

Jack steps aside and lets the girls enter the house. He closes the door behind them and Honey has a sneaking suspicion that if she turned to glance at him, he’d be staring at one of their backsides. She doesn’t look. It’s not worth the joke that she could make if she caught him.

Bea nudges Honey and points up.

Honey tilts her head, and– “A chandelier made of moose antlers. Wow,” she marvels. She makes a face at Bea, then continues. “That’s really… something.”

“Isn’t it sick?” Cole asks, finally dropping Trevor’s arm and joining the girls where they stand. He spreads his arms out from his sides and spins in a slow circle. When he makes a full turn, he looks at both girls and wiggles his eyebrows. “Want a tour?”

The girls agree and Cole takes them throughout the house, leaving the other boys behind. From their pounding feet, Honey figures they’re headed downstairs, while Cole takes them upstairs. He shows them the bedrooms, the bathrooms, the common areas, the hallways, the outlet in his room that doesn’t work, and much more. They go back downstairs and get the same treatment– Cole even opens the fridge and helps himself to a beverage before offering anything to the girls. They see the kitchen, the living room, the den, the dining room and patio. Cole shows them the wraparound porch and its chairs. Honey takes in the view– it’s just as good as the one from her living room. 

Finally, finally, they make their way down to the basement. It’s a smaller room, minimized by a covered porch and larger patio with a hot tub. The basement is clearly the man cave, the game room, or whatever you want to call it. There’s a pool table, a large TV, a ping pong table, a foosball table… everything a boy could want. 

As evidenced by the two boys sitting on the couches near the pool table, while the other two wield sticks and study the position of the balls on the table.

Honey finds Trevor on the couch with Jack. His eyes found her first as she walked down the stairs and he hasn’t stopped staring. Neither has she, to be fair.

“Pool,” Bea notices. She looks at Honey and Honey shakes her head. Bea nods. “Honey and I are next,” she announces anyway.

“Oh, yeah?” Jack asks with a little laugh. “Are you any good?”

“I’m okay,” Bea says. She pauses, lets a smirk on her face grow as she looks over to Honey. “Honey’s worse.”

The boys turn to Honey. “Are you?” Trevor asks. 

“I wager she could still beat you, Z,” says the only boy that Honey had not seen when they arrived at the house earlier. He’s got dark hair, but it’s also hidden under a backwards cap. The only difference between him and his brothers, assuming he is one of the brothers that Trevor mentioned on Monday, is that he’s smaller, more sullen. The telltale sign is that his comment is offhanded, delivered with the calm venom of an older brother who knows exactly where to bite. He doesn’t even look at Trevor as he lines up his shot and sinks the ball.

Honey likes him immediately.

When she looks over, she notices that Bea likes him too. Her lips are pursed in thought, only the minutest pout on her mouth. There’s a tiny smile pulling at her cheek and her eyes are twinkling under the bright lights, but they would be hazardous in a club.

It’s a game they’ve played before. Bea sucks at pool– she always has, but… when you suck at pool, either the person you’re playing with will laugh at you or they’ll try to give you tips. The night usually ends with Bea sinking the 8 ball with a little bit of help from her gentleman caller and a celebratory, “thank you” kiss. 

Honey, however, loves pool. She wasn’t always great at pool, but found that, like almost everything, the more she practiced, the better she became. When Bea’s celebratory kisses turned into rushed hookups in the Winston-Salem dive bar bathrooms, Honey got her fair share of tips and tricks from the other men around. Usually, she would try to shack up with the alcoholic middle aged men who had nothing better to do than sip on their beer and play pool after dinner with their wives. It was rare that they flirted with Honey and she liked it that way.

The game goes like this: Bea finds a group of men that puff up their chest at the idea of beating a woman at pool, she “lets them win” against her (as if she would’ve won in the first place), and then it’s Honey’s turn. Honey, of course, feints a few shots and lets the men get comfortable before coming from behind and beating them. Usually, her win results in two drinks for her and her friend.

Today, the drinks won’t be her bargaining chip.

“What would you wager?” Honey asks the boy who last spoke. “If it were a real bet.”

His stormy eyes look her up and down while Jack’s brother, the tall one, paces around the table to find his best shot. “Money, normally,” he drawls. “But I’d rather not lose my money betting on you if you’re worse than her.” He nods to Bea, who takes the chance to blatantly look him up and down.

“How about this,” Bea proposes, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. “I’ll play the winner of this game and then we’ll see if Honey can beat Trevor. If I win, I get whatever I want, obviously. If Honey wins…”

Honey meets Bea’s eyes. She nods, knowing that Bea is thinking back to the night when they visited ECU their junior year of high school and witnessed a rugby party in the flesh. It’s their usual punishment when their outings feature a house party and a pool table.

“...Trevor has to do a Zulu Run,” Bea finishes. 

Honey finds Trevor again and smiles, overexaggerated and sickly sweet. 

“What’s a Zulu Run?” Trevor asks, looking to the other boys and finding nothing but confusion. On the girls’ faces, he just sees plotted mayhem. 

“It’s fun, don’t worry,” Honey reassures him. “You only have to do it if you lose. Which, I mean, if I’m worse than Bea, then you should be fine.”

Honey sits on the loveseat across from Trevor and Jack, while Bea sits down next to Jack. Her knee presses against his, subtly, just enough that you can’t tell if it’s deliberate or just a lack of room on the couch and Honey presses her hand to her lips to hide a smile.

“So you’re Jack,” Bea says, interrupting the conversation that he and Trevor had been in when the girls walked down the stairs. 

Honey watches as Bea makes her eyes look wide and soft, very flirtatious and fairy-like. She’s got the perfect complexion for it– the light dusting of freckles over her skin, the ounce of baby fat still left in her cheeks and all the right places along her body, her expression just the right amount of interested but not desperate.

For a brief moment, Honey wishes she was more like Bea.

“You’ve heard of me?” Jack asks with a little smirk.

Bea scoffs and waves him off. “Don’t flatter yourself. Honey didn’t even tell me your name.”

Jack’s bright eyes turn to Honey. “Oh, yeah?” He tilts his chin up in challenge. “What is it with you and names? You wouldn’t tell Trevor yours, you haven’t properly introduced me to…”

“Bea,” Bea supplies.

Honey shakes her head fondly at her best friend’s eagerness. Honey bites her tongue to keep her comments at bay, and instead plasters a tight smile on her face. “I didn’t realize I would be seeing you all again,” Honey says, forcing politeness into her voice. “And I’m not the one who’s weird about names.”

Jack and Trevor share a look. Jack hides a snort poorly.

“What?” Honey asks, her eyebrows raised and her mouth in a straight, unimpressed line. 

Jack smirks and Trevor shakes his head. Jack speaks anyway. “I don’t know how you would have avoided us,” Jack says. “Considering.”

“Considering…?” Bea asks, leaning around Jack to look at Trevor. Honey catches Trevor’s panicked glance and can guess what Jack’s alluding to. She jumps in, hoping to switch the subject.

“Nothing to consider,” Honey and Trevor say at the same time. Trevor sounds rushed, Honey sounds indifferent. Both of their jaws drop and they stare at each other, Honey affronted and Trevor surprised. 

Cole, who had been sitting on the stool-saddles near the pool table, steps over the back of the couch and weasels his way between Trevor and Jack. “Creepy,” he says. “You’re like the twins from the Shining.”

Trevor cringes. “You know, I don’t think we are.”

Honey just hums, picking up her drink and taking a sip. She clears her throat and turns back to Jack. “So those are your brothers?” She nods over to the pool table, where the shorter boy is lining up the 8-ball with the corner pocket. “Trevor said you had family coming.” 

Honey doesn’t miss the smirk and blush on Trevor’s face when she says his name, even as he dips his head and takes a gulp of his beer to cover it up.

Jack smiles, a genuine smile. It’s easy to tell the difference with him, when he’s really smiling or if he’s smiling because he thinks he’s supposed to. 

“Yeah, the goons.” Jack looks over his shoulder and grins as his taller brother loses his game of pool. “C’mon, Rusty, you brought that pool stick all this way and your game still sucks?”

The taller boy glares at Jack and sulks, re-racking his stick. He walks over and stands awkwardly behind the couch, but flicks Jack on the back of the head and Honey giggles before she can help it.

She looks down at her lap after letting out the little laugh and misses the way Trevor’s eyes light up and train on her. 

“Luke, you fucker,” Jack swears, flinching at the impact of Luke’s flick. Jack frowns, his eyebrows furrowed as he rubs the back of his head. “He’s my little brother.”

“Little brother,” Honey repeats. “And you’re just going to let him flick you like that?”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Very funny, Honey. Obviously I’m not going to let him get away with it.” He reaches around and half-asses a punch to Luke’s dick, just hard enough that it expels an “oof” from the younger boy and he doubles over a little bit.

The other boy interrupts. “Quit it,” he says. He glares at his brothers, then his eyes fix on Bea. “Your turn.”

Bea stands and smiles, a smug little smirk reserved for her conspiratory looks with Honey that signifies that she’s getting what she wanted. She joins the man by the rack of sticks and clasps her hands behind her back, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Which stick should I use?”

Jack looks a little put out by the loss of Bea at his side, and casts a glare toward his other brother. “And that’s Quinn,” he says curtly. “Pool master, or whatever.”

“So he’s the best in the house?” Honey asks.

“We’ll tally scores at the end of the summer,” Luke jumps in as Quinn says, “Absolutely.”

Jack scowls. “You just think that because you’re older. Remember, Quinn: first is the worst. Second is the best.”

Trevor snorts and takes another sip of his beer. 

He’s unnaturally quiet, Honey thinks. Trying to be cool in front of his friends, maybe.

“I take it you’re the second child,” Honey says. “That makes sense.”

“That makes sense?” Jack asks, repeating her statement like he can’t believe she dared to say that. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Honey looks over at Bea, who presses her lips together and raises her eyebrows. Daring Honey.

Honey rolls her head back, stretching the muscles of her neck. “You…” She starts, trailing off because she’s not sure how to finish the sentence without sounding mean. She scratches her eyebrow and scrunches her nose. “You like attention,” she decides, trying to keep her voice as free of judgment as possible. 

“Do I?” Jack asks, sounding unimpressed.

Honey shrugs. “You– I mean. Jack, you asked. You opened the door for us because you knew it would annoy Trevor, probably because you knew it would bother him that you were opening the door for m– us, instead of him. You flirt and smile when Bea sits next to you but you lean back and manspread when she gets up like you don’t want us to notice that you’re sitting without a girl at your side. You call your little brother a “fucker” and retaliate because you can, honestly escalating the situation from a flick to a punch to the dick. You act annoyed because your older brother is beating you at pool already this summer and it only just started, plus he took the girl from your side. It’s, uh… yeah. You like attention.”

Everyone but Jack starts to laugh.

“Stand up,” Cole says to Honey.

She does, her arms resting by her side awkwardly, her fingers twitching as she waits for him to do something.

Cole looks around the room and swears under his breath. “I didn’t think this through, one second,” he mutters, and disappears upstairs. 

Honey continues to stand there. She pats her hands against her thighs and looks around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, but especially not Bea. If she makes eye contact with Bea, she’s going to burst out laughing. 

Trevor is still snickering, hiding his face in his shirt. Honey can still see the little crinkles by his eyes.

“She clocked you, man,” Quinn says with a shrug before pulling out a pool stick and standing it next to Bea. It comes up to the tip of her shoulder, Quinn’s chest. He nods in satisfaction and hands the stick over. Honey lets out a relieved breath of air at his approval, and then stifles a second when she watches Bea’s fingers brush over Quinn’s on the stick, her eyes lingering on his for just a second too long.

It’s too easy for her. 

Cole comes bounding down the stairs with a plastic soccer trophy in his hand. “Found this when I was snooping,” he says, approaching Honey and holding it out. He stands directly in front of her, makes eye contact with her, and stares into her eyes. “Thank you,” he says with a sincere nod. “For taking Jack down a peg. He needed that. We all needed that.”

And he hands the trophy off to Honey with a handshake, like she’s graduating from high school and he’s the principal handing her a diploma. He takes the handshake and pulls her into a hug, the trophy crushed awkwardly between them. 

When he pulls away, Cole puts both hands on Honey’s arms and stares into her eyes again. “If you’re going to do that again, please don’t do it to me.”

Quinn breaks the rack with a crack of his stick, standing at a slight angle, and Honey sits back down, cradling her trophy in her hands.

Cole engages Honey in conversation for a few minutes, with Luke jumping in here and there. Jack turns on the TV and pouts. As much as she tries not to notice it, Trevor just stays quiet and sips his beer and sneaks glances at Honey out of the corner of his eye. 

Eventually, the conversation dies out and the group turns their attention to the television, which is streaming some hockey game that Honey doesn’t have an interest in. The boys are chitchatting away, throwing out names and positions and yelling at the TV when a call doesn’t go their way– Honey can’t tell who’s cheering for what team, but she can also tell that Jack and Luke don’t like the team in white… at all. Trevor seems to prefer them over the team in red. Cole doesn’t seem to care. He’s just laughing, still, at Jack. Jack just sulks, but he seems to cheer up once the team in red scores, late in the first period.

“You all really like hockey, huh?” Bea asks between turns. Quinn has sunken a ball almost every turn, but Bea has only sunken one. Honey grins at her, then glances at the pool table and back to Bea. Bea sticks her tongue out at Honey, playful and easy. If Quinn’s the kind of guy that Honey thinks he is, it’s only a matter of time before he starts teaching Bea some tricks to tighten up the game. 

Cole laughs. “Yeah, I mean, I’d hope so.”

“What do you mean?” Bea asks, batting her eyelashes innocently, like she didn’t read all of Trevor’s Wikipedia page before coming here. 

“We play,” Luke says with a shrug.

Honey and Bea lock eyes and Honey plays along with her game. She tilts her head and blinks, as if this is the first time she’s hearing it. “Are you any good?”

Quinn snorts and shakes his head as Bea leans over to line up a shot and Honey notices his hand on her waist when he points at a different ball, explaining that that would be the better shot for her. Bea sinks the recommended ball and jumps up with a cheer, smiling brightly at Quinn and standing just a little closer than she would if she wanted to be just friends.

“We’re alright,” Trevor says, the first words he’s said to Honey since she walked through the door. He stands. “Does anyone want another beer?”

The boys’ voices ring out in a chorus of yesses, whereas Honey stays mostly quiet. Bea agrees to another drink as well, which is when Trevor turns to Honey. “You’re sure you don’t want another drink? I’m already getting them for everyone.”

“I’m sure, but thank you,” Honey says. 

“Why don’t you go and help him carry the drinks,” Bea suggests from her post next to Quinn. 

Honey glares at her, but stands. She leaves her trophy on her seat, saving it. “Fine,” she replies, hoping the edge in her voice is only detectable to her best friend. She follows Trevor up the stairs to the kitchen, like an antisocial cat who has FOMO, but only when it comes to their owner. She crinkles her nose in disgust when she realizes that that’s how she looks, not that Trevor would notice or care. Actually, he would probably be elated if she compared herself to a cat following him around.

Trevor opens the fridge and sifts around, the bottles of beer clinking. The beer takes up most of the bottom shelf, unsurprisingly.

“Do you think you have enough?” Honey asks, unable to help herself when Trevor passes her a third bottle, each a different brand of beer, to carry. 

“Q and J like Michelob, Luke is a Miller guy, Coley likes Budweiser, and I’m more of a Modelo drinker.” Trevor’s head is buried in the back of the fridge, rifling through a pack of Millers that seem to be running low. “We’ve had to go to the store three times since that first day because we keep running out of the one beer that someone wants.”

He retreats from the refrigerator and turns to Honey. He’s got two beers in his hand. He holds them up and asks, “Which one do you think Bea wants?”

Honey weighs her choices, but ultimately chooses the Michelob. Bea will use it as a jumping point for her conversation with Quinn– it’s a no-brainer. As annoying as Bea’s boy-craziness is, Honey is always going to be her wingwoman and helper when she can.

“Cool,” Trevor says and returns the other beer to the shelf. He turns back to Honey and takes two of the beers she was carrying, leaving her with just two, the Budweiser and the Modelo.

“I thought you were a Modelo drinker,” Honey says.

“I am,” Trevor replies, heading towards the stairs. 

Honey follows. “Then why am I holding your beer?”

“Because I want you to hand it to me.”

Honey snorts out a laugh. “Okay.”

When they return downstairs, they distribute the beer. Honey hands Cole his Budweiser and waits for Trevor to finish handing out the beers to the Hughes brothers and her friend. Bea has finally managed to get Quinn to do the work for her, with him leaning behind her and guiding her arms over the cue, pointing out where she should be looking and where to hit the ball. There are no other balls on the table except the 8 ball, which makes Honey chuckle. There’s no way Bea sunk all of hers– Quinn had to have “mistakenly” knocked a few in for her.

Trevor returns to the sitting area and Honey stands, offering him the Modelo in her hand. On purpose, she realizes, Trevor closes his hand over her own to take the beer from her and thanks her with a smile, his eyes far too kind to be harmless and friendly. 

Honey shakes her head with a look, then frowns when Trevor plops his happy ass right down on the other side of her loveseat. She shakes her head again and chooses to watch the end of the pool game, sitting on one of the stool-saddles near the table. She claps when Bea finally sinks the 8 ball after her third whiff. The ball only sinks because Quinn leaned over Bea again and did it for her, working together to finish the game.

“I win!” Bea squeals in delight, jumping in celebration in front of Quinn.

He lets out a little chuckle, the most awkwardly and quietly endearing laugh that Honey has ever heard. “You won,” he agrees. “With my help.”

Bea tilts her chin up and smiles at Quinn, proud of herself. “So we both win,” she says. “That means we both get whatever we want.”

Honey bites her tongue and ducks her head, waiting for what’s coming next. She wants to turn around and look out the window, even though you can’t see anything in the dark mountainside now that the sun has set. The thing is, she also wants to see the boys’ reactions to what Bea is going to say next.

Quinn smiles, a little tiny smile. His focus is only on Bea, who has inched her way closer to him somehow. There’s not much more room between them. “Whatever you want,” he repeats. “What do you want, Bea?”

Honey watches Quinn’s face, but she’s torn. She also wants to watch Jack.

“You know that tour Cole took us on when Honey and I first got here?” Bea asks, reaching out and smoothing out the turned-up fabric of Quinn’s sleeve.

“Yeah,” Quinn replies, a little confused.

Bea rests her hand on his arm, slowly making her way down so she can wrap her hand around his fingers. She watches herself do it, then looks up at Quinn through her lashes. “I don’t think I saw your bedroom,” she says. “Would you care to show me?”

Quinn’s lips part in surprise and Honey watches his eyes search Bea’s own for… insincerity, maybe? 

At the same time, Jack chokes on a sip of his beer. Honey’s eyes fly to him and Cole pats his back as Jack coughs it out. 

“Jesus Christ,” Jack says, clapping his hand against his chest and coughing one last time.

Bea smiles at him, oozing confidence and a little showmanship, as Quinn leads her to the stairs. He lets her climb them first and Honey giggles when Quinn sneaks a glance at Bea’s ass and visibly relaxes before hurrying to catch up with her and get his hands on her hips. Bea’s twinkling laughter grows softer and softer as she bounds up the stairs, her footfalls growing heavier as Quinn closes in on her.

“Well shit, Jack,” Cole says. “I guess you’re not the first to fall into bed with a girl this summer. The streak is finally over.”

“You don’t know that,” Jack says, pushing Cole’s hand off of his shoulder. He turns to face Honey, looking hopeful and a little desperate. “Wanna help me keep my streak up?”

A loud honking laugh escapes Honey. “Absolutely fucking not,” she replies, still laughing. She shakes her head at Jack, then notices the small, but mightily proud smile on Trevor’s lips. 

Choosing not to focus on that smile, a smile that she’s inadvertently becoming very fond of because she’s never seen him smile at his friends the way Trevor is smiling at her, Honey hops up from her stool and starts to gather the balls from the pockets of the table. She racks them, then grabs her cue and waves Trevor over. “I believe we had a game to play.”

“You had a game to lose,” Trevor corrects, standing and approaching Honey. He grabs his own stick, the one Quinn abandoned on the edge of the table when Bea proposed her bedroom shenanigans. 

“Hmm,” Honey voices, raising her eyebrows and exaggerating a grimace. “Consider me scared. Your break, Trevor.”

“When I win,” Trevor says. “I want to buy you dinner.” He lines up the cue ball and shoots, the colorful triangle of balls destroyed in a single swoop. One of the solids finds its way into a pocket and Trevor smirks.

“What a boring prize,” Honey muses. “But if you insist on those terms, then I agree.” She sticks out her hand to shake his. “And when I win…”

She leans down and eyes a line of three balls. The striped nine is farthest from the hole, but Honey wants to prove a point, so she angles her stick down at a steep slope and pushes– noticing Trevor’s mouth flattening into a line when her ball jumps over the other two and tips into the hole. She stands back up to her full height, tilting her head to the side. She cocks her hip and positions her hand against it, holding the cue up on her other side.

“I’m really going to enjoy your Zulu Run, Trevor.”

Cole whistles lowly from the couch. “I need to find you another trophy, girl.”

Honey shoots him a wink.

They play on. Trevor takes it easy– plays the safe route. With each easy fall into the pocket, he fistpumps to celebrate. Honey can only imagine how insufferable he is at the bowling alley. 

She shows him up, not even daring to let him pull ahead in their race and convince himself that he has a chance. She sinks the final black ball into the right-center pocket, bending herself all the way over the table to give him a good view of the girl who’s beating him. Her hips are high on the other side of the table, balancing up on her tip toes, facing the seating area. She doesn’t even look at the ball when she hits it, no, she’s looking up at Trevor with a tilted smile and mocking, bragging eyes. 

His eyes evaluate her– eyes, to lips, to chest, to ass. To the boys, making sure they aren’t looking, aren’t gawking at the round globes of Honey’s ass that are presented before them. Back to her ass. Her ass.

Honey stands, slowly, making sure Trevor memorizes the curve of her waist when she does. Her eyes drop to his pants, a smirk growing in time with his bulge, and she rests her hands on the edge of the table. She pulls her shoulders back, broadening her chest. 

It’s just a dominant stance. All Honey enjoys about this is the fact that his resolve and dignity crumble at the mere sight of a pretty girl bent before him. She likes knowing that he’s weak for her, but that she’ll never do anything about it.

She’s not looking for that.

“A Zulu Run,” Honey explains, clearing her throat to rid her voice of its sultry tinges. She shakes her hair back, over her shoulders. Trevor’s eyes darken at the sight of her throat. She smiles, but continues. “Is when you have to strip, sing a song, and streak around the house until the song is over.” She throws a glance over her shoulder at the other boys. “Usually your friends get to pick your song.”

Jack perks up at that. Honey turns and hops up on the ledge of the pool table, knowing that Trevor’s eyes have fallen to her behind. Jack looks at Honey with delight in his eyes, seeming to forgive her in an instant for psychoanalyzing him earlier in the night. His eyes slide to Trevor and the look in them seems more akin to yearning for vengeance.

“So, boys,” Honey drawls. “What’ll it be?”

They scramble over each other to reach her, shouting song suggestions as they fly into their head. Honey can’t hear anything they’re saying, so she laughs until they fall silent. Cole’s hand presses into the side of her thigh, she looks down at it in disgust, then back up at him. It falls to the edge of the table, noticeable space between her and the appendage. 

“How about this,” Honey decides. She sneaks a glance at Trevor, gloating as she lets her eyes roam all over his body. She takes in his arms, his thighs under his shorts, the way his shirt falls over his shoulders. “Trevor looks pretty fit. Why don’t we all pick a song?” She winks at him. “Make him run for, oh, eleven minutes or so?”

A flicker of recognition passes through Trevor’s gaze, but it’s quickly replaced by disbelief. He doesn’t know how she would know– weren’t they subtle about it? She lets out a breath of a laugh at the look– no, Trevor, you weren’t subtle, she thinks. but it’s cute that you think you are.

She realizes what she was thinking in a split second and shakes herself out of it, snapping her face forward and crossing her legs knee-over-knee. 

“But only his friends get to pick, so I guess I’m out.” Honey hops down from her perch and breaks through the boys, settling herself on the loveseat with her trophy, laying out to take up as much space as she could. She picks up the remote from the table and places her other hand behind her head, navigating to the Roku menu screen. “Do we have Spotify on this thing?”

Luke, Jack, and Cole each pick a song and Cole helps Honey connect to the outdoor speakers. He re-presents her with her trophy with a flourish and a bow, playful and lame. The boys push Trevor out to the patio with a whoop, pulling at his clothes even as Trevor fights them. 

Honey follows at a distance and watches through the glass door. She looks away when Trevor sheds his underwear and waits for Luke’s countdown to end before looking back up. She doesn’t want to see it. That’s just too far. She gets an eyeful of his ass as he rounds the corner of the house, though. 

As Trevor starts his third song, Cole’s cheesy Taylor Swift pick (“You can’t outrun my music now, bitch!”), Jack joins Honey at the door. 

“I think I’m going to head home,” Honey tells him, rubbing over the skin on her arms. 

Jack nods at her, shrugging easily. “I’ll walk you out.” 

Honey leads him up the stairs, hearing Trevor’s whoops grow louder as he finishes the second verse of the song. She knows he catches them walking up the stairs because his singing falters for a moment. His steps speed up. So do Honey’s. 

She walks briskly to the front door, bordering on a speedwalk, with Jack behind her. She swings her keys over her finger and wrenches the front door open. Jack catches it before it hits the wall. 

“What about Bea?” He asks, calling after Honey and making her pause. 

“She’ll find her way home,” Honey replies and steps off again. She has to get out of here before Trevor races up the stairs to stop her from being alone with Jack and she gets an eyeful of his– junk.

“Honey!” Jack calls again. 

She lurches to a stop and cringes, turning to face the boy. 

"Honey, I don't think I'm going to flirt with you anymore."

Honey takes a breath, walking back and reaching up to pat Jack's cheek, just forceful enough that it'll sting for a moment after she walks away. It's not quite a hit, but it's definitely not a love tap. "That doesn't hold the power that you think it does," she tells him with a nod and a close-lipped smile. She goes to leave, but Jack stops her by grabbing her hand.

"Trevor likes you, you know. He was quiet tonight, but he likes you. He's reading that book you gave him and everything," Jack says in earnest, his blues boring into Honey's own eyes. 

Honey picks up on the unsaid words. He's trying, take it easy on him, he might be annoying but he's good, and he likes you. You should like him too, and all of that.

The edges of Honey's smile soften and she gently pulls her hand from Jack's. "It's nice to know he can read," she replies, deflecting. Whatever Trevor feels for her, not that he can really feel anything because he doesn't know her like that, doesn't matter. She's not looking for that right now. "Thanks for hosting us, Jack. I'm sorry for what I... said."

"It's okay." Jack shrugs. "Thanks for coming."

"Goodnight," Honey bids him, and starts to walk away.

"Come back," Jack says, and Honey whips around and finds him looking like the words surprised him when he heard himself speak. He clears his throat. "Friday. Um, it's— it's National Chocolate Ice Cream Day and National Donut Day." He scuffs the tip of his shoe against the ground. "Really... important holiday."

Honey can't do anything but laugh. "I'll bring the donuts."

She walks to her car and ignores the chirping of bullfrogs echoing in her ears as she drives down the mountain to her home, alone.

7:90 – TREVOR

Jack glares at Trevor when he walks down to the kitchen early the next morning. As Trevor rubs the sleep out of his eyes with a yawn, Jack shifts under the frozen pack of peas that rests precariously on his shoulderblades. Trevor had barely touched him last night, he was just being dramatic. So he had a bit of soreness on his back from where Trevor pushed him against the wall and asked him what the hell he was doing, who cares? He went upstairs with Trevor’s girl. Alone. 

“Bea’s taking you to church with her this morning for laying a finger on me,” Jack growls out when Trevor looks at him and laughs.

“No shit,” Trevor replies, snorting.

“It’s true,” comes the female voice from the couch. Bea leans forward, her tube top skewed and tilted enough to draw a wandering eye. Trevor rolls his. “You shouldn’t get violent, not on my watch.”

“You weren’t even with me last night, Bea,” Trevor says sweetly, tilting his head down to dismiss her. “You didn’t see me do shit. How can you prove it was me and not Luke?”

“Luke put a video of it on his private story, then showed me,” Bea snickers in the same tone. “So you’re taking me home and helping me choose my best church outfit to hide these hickeys, and then you’ll join me at the service. It’ll be good for your reputation in town.”

“I don’t really care about my reputation in town,” Trevor laughs.

“Honey cares about your reputation in town,” Bea clarifies, a tight, ‘there’s no room for discussion here’ smile on her face. She pointedly looks him up and down. “Little Bear.”

Trevor scowls at her condescending tone and use of the nickname. How dare she flaunt her inner circle-ness to Trevor. 

“I was going to go to church anyway,” Trevor boasts. “Vera told me to bring all of the boys.”

“Well, you’re the only one resorting to violence–” Jack begins, seething, before Bea cuts him off.

“No, this is a good idea,” she says, waving her hand to quiet him. “We should all go to church.”

Jack scoffs. “I don’t think we need to go,” he says. “Sounds like you’ve got an ulterior motive.”

“I don’t want the town to think y’all are reclusive party folk who have no interest in the happenings of Litchton,” Bea snaps. “You’d be surprised how quickly the old grannies will turn on you.”

“And you get to walk into church with five guys on your arm,” Jack says, still scowling. This time, his attention is focused on Bea, not the man who physically hurt him the night before. 

“Said she wanted five guys, she ain’t talking ‘bout burgers,” Trevor deadpans, a disgusted look thrown Bea’s way.

She’s unperturbed by it, probably from many years of Honey– Honey.– throwing her similar looks. All Bea does is smile and reply, “My pussy already got murdered, Trev. I didn’t need five guys.”

“No way Quinn ‘murdered’ your pussy, Bea,” Jack jumps in, air quotes around the word. “The dude doesn’t fuck.”

Bea laughs. “I assure you, he fucks.”

“Yeah, I fuck,” Quinn agrees, descending the stairs. He veers to the couch first and drops a kiss on Bea’s head in greeting.

“Well, fuck your way to church,” Jack says. “Bea’s making everyone go with her.” Jack looks at Quinn expectantly, maybe waiting for pushback.

Quinn shrugs. “Okay,” he says. “It’s not like there’s anything else for us to do on a Sunday morning in this place. Everything is probably closed.”

“It’s true, everything is closed on Sundays except the grocery store and the gas station,” Bea says with a nod. “And the church, of course.”

Jack scowls and removes his pack of peas from his back. Trevor takes his opportunity to approach the fridge, conveniently behind Jack. “Why can’t we just stay here?”

“Because it’ll be fun,” Trevor replies, trying to exude optimism now that he’s not the only boy being forced to attend church and wash themselves of their sins. He turns and purposefully claps his hand down on Jack’s shoulder, hard. Jack howls in pain. Trevor squeezes just to watch him tense up. “It’s our chance to become one with the community, Jacky.”

Bea smiles, voice dripping with cheerfulness. “Yeah, Jacky, it’ll be good for you. Why don’t you two head upstairs and change?” Her eyes fix on Quinn, whose shirt rides up as he grabs a glass from the upper shelves of the cabinets. “I want to chit-chat with Quinn for a second.”

Trevor and Jack make a face, but scramble towards the stairs. They push and shove each other all the way up– Trevor is particularly satisfied when Jack bumps into the wall and groans– then split off into their respective rooms. Trevor treats it like a race– whoever finishes changing first wins.

Jack is already back downstairs by the time Trevor returns. Cole is there, and Luke, and both of them seem to be dressed for the service too. None of the boys have the best church clothes, but it’s a small town with farmers. Surely not everyone will be in their Sunday best every Sunday. Quinn is noticeably missing, but Bea is standing by the door with a smile on her face. Her lips look a little more red than they did before Trevor went upstairs. He narrows his eyes at her.

“You, and you,” Bea says, pointing at Jack and Trevor. “Come with me. Trevor, grab your car keys. You’re driving.”

“What about Luke and Cole?” Trevor asks, picking up his keys from their spot on the hook next to the door and trailing behind Bea. Jack trails behind Trevor, still grumbling and pretending like his shoulders hurt for dramatic effect. Trevor ought to show him some real pain next time.

The three people climb into the car, Trevor behind the wheel and Bea in the passenger seat. Jack, once again, finds himself relegated to the backseat. He straps himself in and Trevor catches his murderous glare in the rearview mirror.

“Quinn’s going to drive them,” Bea explains. “They’ll meet us at the church.”

“Whipped,” Jack coughs out. He does a terrible job of masking the word. 

Trevor rolls his eyes, just like Bea. She opens her mouth to say something, sass him, but thinks better of it.

They drive on in silence, the occasional sigh or grunt from Jack as he shifts in his seat. Trevor glares at him again in the mirror and Jack hits him with a fake smile before looking out the window to watch the trees whip by.

Bea directs them to the main strip of shops, then tells them to take a left onto one of the sidestreets near The Reading Nook. They pull up to a big brick house, separated down the middle by a massive staircase. Bea climbs the stairs and turns to the left again, unlocking and pushing her front door open.

She leads the boys into her living room, which is decorated exactly how Trevor expected it to be. The couch is white with pink pillows and a white shag rug beneath it. Her furniture is odd, thrifted and worn in. None of it matches, although Trevor suspects that her theme was “Barbie girl aesthetic.” It’s messy, and comfortable, and Trevor almost envies how she lives. His apartment in Anaheim is sparse– when you’re on the road so much and as busy with your job as Trevor is, you really only need a place to eat and sleep. His decorations reflect that.

Trevor sprawls out on the couch, leaving Jack standing awkwardly next to the coffee table. Bea disappears down the hall and enters her bedroom, her closet door creaking open.

“Jack, come here, will you?” Bea asks. 

Jack’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, but he starts down the hallway nonetheless. 

Trevor snoops in his absence, Jack’s presence no longer a threat to his comfort. He drags himself off of the couch and stands, advancing towards the shelves of knickknacks on the wall near the television.

Bea has got a number of books on her shelves, overtaking two of the four rows. The other rows are sparse and far more interesting– there are picture frames spread along the rows, six frames that depict Bea’s life and what she loves.

Four of the pictures feature Honey. The other two are groups of people that Trevor assumes are Bea’s family, her extended family on each of her parents’ sides. He can ignore those easily, not caring about about Bea to scan each of her cousins’ faces. The pictures with Honey are a different story.

There’s a picture of the two when they were ten, or eleven, riding their bikes down an asphalt street lined with suburban houses. Bea’s bike is pink with streamers and flowers and a little basket. Honey’s is dark green and sporty, similar to Trevor’s own bicycle from childhood. Honey’s smile is wry, whereas Bea’s is glowing.

The second, from a birthday party. It’s Honey’s birthday and they’re four, from the looks of the lit candle on her cake. Honey’s smile is wide, much wider than the previous image. Her hair is messy and her tongue is stained green, probably from a lollipop or a Jolly Rancher. Her arms are wrapped around Bea’s neck and she’s pulled her friend close, their cheeks pressing together. Bea’s expression is a little different. Only one of her eyes is squeezed shut, the one closer to Honey. Her lips are pursed like a duck and her little fingers are raised in a peace sign.

Trevor chuckles. If his mom had been the one taking the picture, she would’ve said “What a ham” about the girls’ goofiness.

In the next picture, they’re older. They’re sixteen, probably. Bea’s wearing these short jean shorts and a bikini top and Honey wears a matching top under some long, gray sweatpants. She rolled the waistband up and her back is mostly to the camera, Bea lifted off the ground in a swooping hug. Bea’s legs are kicked up behind her like she’s experiencing a really good, Princess Diaries kind of kiss and her face is frozen in laughter. Honey’s is the same. Trevor’s heart clenches at the smile on her face and the way her hair blows out behind her.

Finally, there’s a selfie of the two of them in a handmade frame. It’s from a high angle and Trevor can’t tell if it’s a .5 picture or a regular one. Honey’s eyebrow is raised and she wears an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression, goofy enough to tug at Trevor’s smile. Bea’s mouth is open and she has a hand pinching Honey’s chin, while the other is raised to take the picture. Behind them is the Welcome to Litchton sign that Trevor passes each time he goes into town. 

Trevor’s eyes glide down to the handmade frame, the written message along the top and bottom borders.

“New Beginnings!” and smaller, in the corner, a more personalized message. Trevor thinks that she wrote the message in a thin Sharpie– it’s too pristine still, after years. “There’s no one I would rather have join me in Litchton than you. Thank you for always being the Bea to my Honey! Honeybea 4ever <3”.

Trevor reaches out and takes the frame in his hand, inspecting it. He turns it over. More script, also in a Sharpie: “2019”, it reads. He replaces the item, making sure it’s back in the exact right spot. 

“Bea, hurry up!” Trevor calls, returning to the couch.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” she replies, leading Jack out of her bedroom. She’s clasping a necklace as she walks, then holds out her wrist and a bracelet for Jack to clasp. “We can go now.”

They leave the apartment and climb back into the car, Jack beating Bea out for the passenger seat this time. He’s smug about it too, grinning to himself while he buckles up. Trevor opens the back door for Bea and helps her into the car with a guiding hand in hers. When Jack realizes that he fumbled the chance to look like a gentleman, his face returns to its scowl. 

“If you’re not careful, your face will get stuck like that,” Trevor warns when he finally sits behind the wheel again. He shifts the car into drive and pulls out of the parking space.

Bea directs them to the church and Trevor pulls into the parking lot next to Quinn’s car, which is still running. They’ve got about five minutes before the service begins and Bea chastises the three boys for not going inside and reserving seats early. 

“There’s only a few instances where the whole town goes out to do something,” Bea complains as they walk inside. “Church is one of them. We’re never going to find a spot for all six of us.”

“No Honey?” Trevor asks, taken aback. He expected her to join them, especially since the ‘whole town’ is here.

Bea casts Trevor a look and snickers into her palm. “You’re sweet, Trevor,” she says and Trevor rolls his eyes at her saccharine tone. “But Honey decided a long time ago that she had enough religion in her life growing up. She and God know where they stand.”

Trevor reaches the door to the church first and holds it open for the group, letting them file in. He’s grateful that they’re in the church now, because all of the other boys are either too respectful of the space and what it represents or too awkward in a silent building to make fun of Trevor for seeking out Honey. Or they don’t want to get on Bea’s bad side and act a fool in church and suffer her wrath.

They file into one of the back pews, Bea sandwiched between Quinn and Luke. Trevor sits on the other side, right at the aisle. 

For an hour, he stays quiet and moves and speaks with the congregation. He counts the number of times that Cole tases Jack’s side, sticking his fingers between his ribs to cause him to flinch and make noise in the reverent area. He does this five times throughout the mass before Bea leans forward and threatens to cut his hands off herself. 

For an hour, Trevor stares forward and lets his mind wander to Honey, and all the thoughts he has about her. She’s a mystery and she’s quiet like Quinn, but confident in a way that Quinn never achieved. She knows exactly who she is and won’t budge for anyone, won’t change herself or act in any special ways around certain people. 

Trevor admires it– he’s spent his whole life performing for people, in a way. Hockey is his life and always has been, but sometimes it’s tiring to realize that all of his friends are people he met on ice. To think that he can be surrounded by his teammates and the fans in any arena and still feel lonely– it’s the kind of thing that leaves Trevor wondering if this career was a good idea. 

In another world, he’s playing in a beer league in a town like this, with a girl like Honey on his arm. 

The thought leaves him feeling heavy, weighed down. It ruminates in his mind, even after the service is over. It sours his mood completely and Trevor wishes he was back at the house so he could take a shower or something and stop the prickling feelings from taking over his skin.

In the parking lot, the group chats about nothing. Trevor doesn’t listen. Bea introduces the boys to come of the townsfolk and Trevor smiles and shakes the men’s hands, hugs the ladies or send a special look their way. Vera and Earl honk as they drive past the group, Vera blowing a kiss towards Trevor and Cole through the passenger window. Cole catches it and sticks it to his cheek, then sends one back. It makes Vera laugh.

Trevor tunes back into the conversation as the boys discuss plans for the upcoming week– Jack edges away from Trevor before he mentions that he invited Honey over that coming Friday and that Bea should come too. 

“Well, you’ll rarely find a Honey without its Bea,” Bea teases. She claps. “Okay. I’ll see you guys then. Quinn, take me home?”

Quinn nods and puts his hand on the small of her back to direct her to the car. Bea pauses and waves Trevor over, shooing the other boys away. Quinn stays, his hand still on Bea’s body.

“There’s a fruit stand outside the grocery store on Mondays,” Bea says.

“I know, I’ve been,” Trevor interrupts.

Bea quiets him with a click of her tongue. She chooses her words carefully, her eyes hard. “Go tomorrow at, like, six,” she suggests, a faux-nonchalant shrug lifting her shoulders. “You might find something that you like there. I recommend buying the strawberries. They make a lovely gift, Trevor.”

Trevor frowns, confused. “I don’t like strawberries,” he replies.

Bea closes her eyes and processes his words for a moment, a tight smile on her lips. “They make a lovely gift, Trevor,” she repeats.

“Sick,” Trevor says, his voice hard. He doesn’t understand what she’s saying. “I’m not buying strawberries for you, Bea. I don’t know you enough to give you gifts.”

Bea stomps her foot. “Good fucking God, Trevor. Quinn, can you explain this shit to him?” She asks, then walks off to the car. She takes Quinn’s keys from his hand and gets behind the driver’s seat herself. 

Quinn watches her walk away, then turns to Trevor. “She’s telling you that you’ll run into Honey, you fucking idiot, and that you should buy her strawberries.” 

He leaves Trevor standing there, eyes wide.

Yeah, he’s definitely heading to the fruit stand tomorrow and buying strawberries.

He concocts his plan on the drive home, silent compared to the other three boys, that are laughing and flopping around the backseat with every turn in a game of Jell-O. They’re not wearing their seatbelts. When they get too loud, Trevor envisions ejecting them from the backseat, leaving them sailing down the mountain, falling through the air.

He holes himself up in his room to nap when they get home, too excited to see Honey to let the time pass organically. It’s like time travel, this way. Trevor will wake up and be two hours closer to seeing her, to getting another chance to win her over. This time, with a gift.

In the afternoon, he laces up his blades and skates with the boys. Quinn has come back by now, not spending much time at Bea’s apartment after church, according to Luke. They all skate and shoot for a couple of hours, playing a game of pickup with an extra player to sub in and out. When that ends, they run some drills. Luke and Quinn play defense, like always, with Trevor, Cole, and Jack recreating their legendary line from USNTDP. It works out perfectly, and each boy pushes himself like they’re playing a real game. It’s the brotherly competition that fuels them– and when the drills start to fall into disarray from hits and other penalties that would certainly be called out in a game, they head off to shower.

The night ends slowly, fizzling out compared to the way it ended the night before. The boys lounge in the game room, sprawling out on the couches and snacking and sipping their beer. Trevor isn’t made to perform another Zulu Run, no one picks up a pool cue, and they watch shitty TV movies on the Spanish channel instead of English. They make up the dialogue as they go and Trevor is the first to go to sleep. He makes it to midnight, but then he forces himself to go to bed. 

He’s got a big day ahead of him… after 5 p.m., anyway.

–end–of–chapter–one–

[nosugarallspice]

I love your writing so much !! I was wondering if you could do phrase 26 “ fuck,I missed your body so much” with Anakin Skywalker?💓

ahh! thank you bb. of course I can! I hope you like it <333

also can I just say that Anakin is so fuckin sexy bro like omgggg??!

Minors DNI!!

~~

Letting out a long sigh, you laid on your big bed, staring at the empty side from time to time. Anakin was away on a mission. you weren’t able to go due to an injury you were still recovering from. Leaving you all alone, here with nothing to do. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard a knock on the door. Your brows furrowed as you were confused on who’d come by at this hour. 

Slightly annoyed you had to get out of bed, you quickly made your way to the door. Opening it, you’re surprised to see Anakin standing there, with that smile on his face, the smile that always manages to make you melt inside, no matter how many times you’ve seen it. 

“Ani?-“ you’re cut off by him immediately smashing his lips against yours. The kiss was heated, licking, nibbling, and sucking. 

Moaning into the kiss, he slips his tongue into your mouth, exploring. Your back pressed up against the wall, his hand gripping onto your chin as he kisses you roughly. 

His free hand exploring your body. 

—

“Fuck, I missed your body so much.” He says against your lips, his hips slamming into your own. The pace is hard and rough but it feels too good. 

Your hands resting on his lower back, digging into his flesh. 

He loves looking at you under him. Your hair is spread across the pillow. Your tits bouncing with each thrust. He could cum just by the sight but he holds off, he wants this feeling to last. 

Leaning down, he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking at the tiny bundle of nerves. Tugging on it from time to time. 

“Missed you so, so much.” You whimper out.

The room is filled with moans, groans and the sweet sounds of Anakin coaching you through your second orgasm  

“That’s it baby, just one more. I know you can do it.” His finger lazily rubs against your clit. Your head thrown back, hands now gripping tight on the sheets as your second orgasm takes over. 

“That’s my girl.” He smiles, placing a sloppy kiss to your lips. 

His own thrusts become sloppy as he empties himself into you. Filling you all the way up.

 Fucking his cum deep into you. 

“I love you.” 

“And I love you.” You smile, patting his cheek softly.