#and i mention i don’t like how you change when he visits and she’s acting confused so i repeat myself and say this happens every time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simp4pedropascal75 · 8 months ago

Text

"Everywhere." (dbf!joel x reader)

summary: Before beginning to work in your new job, you decided to visit your dad in Texas for the whole summer break. What you didn't know is, that you would meet your teenager's crush, your dad's best friend, again. Joel fucking Miller.

words: 5.4k

trigger warnings: dbf!Joel, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Joel is in his early 40s), no!outbreak!Joel, some mentions of y/n, a little bit angst, 18+, smut (f!nger!ng, praising, s3x, ect.)

a/n: well, it's been a while since I posted. I hope you're all doing well and I hope you'll enjoy this new ff. <3

(sorry for spelling mistakes, english is still not my first language)

-------------------♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡-------------------

It has been two months now since you have this special affair. Every time you sneak over to him, your breath quickens, and butterflies fly around in your stomach when you’re getting nearer to him.

Every time you lay in bed alone, you feel his hands and his kisses all over you.

Every time you think of him, thinking of every night you two had… you can't bear the ache between your legs.

But it is not just the sex…

Every time you’re with him, you forget all your worries and fears.

Every time you're with him, he makes you feel safe.

He makes you feel loved.

He makes you feel alive.

When you think of all this, it is just perfect.

But it's not.

No one can know.

No one can know that you sneak out mostly every night to go to him.

No one can know how you feel about him.

No one can see.

It has to be a secret.

When you’re not alone, you just have to act like your just neighbours…

Even if you are neighbours.

It’s not easy. It’s hard.

But even if the fear of having to end everything doesn’t let you go… it doesn’t keep you from doing it.

Maybe someday, you can let everybody see.

See that you love him.

But that’s all just in your head. You love him, you really do, but… it’s complicated.

You don’t know if he really feels the same way about you do.

But there’s one thing you really know.

You’re in love with Joel Miller.

Yes, the Joel Miller who’s nearly twenty years older than you.

The Joel Miller who’s you’re neighbour and has known you since you’re a teenager.

The Joel Miller you’ve watched doing work in his garden.

The Joel Miller with these beautiful eyes and strong arms.

And… the Joel Miller who’s unfortunately your dad’s best friend.

You were 14 when you moved to Texas with your dad. It was shortly after your mom and dad’s divorce. He got the legal custody of you. And you were kind of relieved that you didn’t have to live with your mother. Sometimes in the past, she got pretty impulsive towards you and your parents just kept fighting. But you still have some contact with her.

So, it was good to begin all over again. You went to a new school, made some friends and all kinds of that stuff. Your dad also found a new job and got along with the neighbors, especially Joel Miller.

They got along pretty well, since they were both a single dad with one daughter.

But all besides that, you never really knew him. You waved him when you saw him outside.

When he was over at, your dad's house you simply said hello. You never really wanted to talk to your dads' friends.

But everything changed when you became older. You remember how your dad asked you to look after Joel 8 years old daughter Sarah and you didn’t say no to that. It was a good way of earning some money of your own.

So, you’re started with 18 to babysit Joel's daughter. And that’s when you started getting a slight crush on him. You noticed over time that you feel different with him than with the two or three boys in your age, you dated in the past. Over the two years you’ve started getting an immense crush on him, but it was hopeless. It was just a dream fantasy of him and you getting together since he was that older than you. Just a teenager’s crush.

At the end of 19 you left for college in Louisiana and told yourself to grow up. You studied philosophy and even if it wasn’t always so easy, you finished from college and then even got a job as a professor in another university to teach philosophy.

But before you started working in your new job, there was a long summer break. And after all the learning and writing exams, you deserved it the most.

You decided to visit your dad in Texas and stay there for the whole break because you didn’t see him often for the past years. You also wanted to spend your 26th birthday with him and in your second hometown.

You pulled over your car in the driveway and parked. As you got out of the car, your dad already walked towards you. “Oh, there’s my girl!”, he smiled happily and hugged you tightly. “It’s so good to be back home!”, you said. Your dad and you small talked for a bit while he was getting out your luggage out of the car. Suddenly, you heard a very familiar voice.

“Hey buddy”, you heard, and you turned around. You saw them talking and then saw who he was.

“Hey, you still remember …?”, your dad says but you already finished the sentence in your thoughts.

Joel.

When he stands in front of you, you freeze. He looks even hotter than before…

How can someone look that good in his 40s?

You cleared your throat. “Yea- of course”, you responded. Your heart begins to race. “Umm- How’s Sarah?”, you asked firmly. “She’s doing really well. She’s on a vacation with some of her school friends for the whole summer break. But she would be so happy to see you”, you remembered him replying with his texan accent.

And that’s how everything started. You saw him way more often and talked to him when he was at your dad’s house. He made you laugh and feel safe. Every time he was just near you, you couldn’t think rationally. The first weeks after your arrival, you spend a lot of time with Joel since there was a lot going on your dad’s work.

Every morning after breakfast you went over to his house and you two played UNO, chess or simple board games. He showed you around the neighbourhood and told you everything you’ve missed while your away. You noticed that during the time you spent together, he looked at you in a different way. You thought you’re just being delusional, but he acted differently towards you, but differently good.

You often caught him staring at you, every time he called you “darling” or “princess”, you got goosebumps and when you teased him, which you loved, he got so nervous.

There was just this tension between you two.

And one day, it just happened. You were at his house and put on your shoes to go home because it was already kind of late and you wanted to get home before your dad did.

Joel was sitting on the couch, watching football. “You’re sure you got everything?”, he asked you while looking at the TV. “Yea- I think so”, you replied and put on your jacket. You put your hands in your pockets and noticed that you forgot your keys. They were lying next to Joel on the other side of the couch.

You smirked, walked over to him and bend right over his lap to grab your keys. “ ‘just need to grab my keys…”, you mumbled and felt his whole body getting tense. “I know what you’re doing...”, you remember him mumbling under his breath.

“I’m not doing anything, old man”, you chuckled, grabbed your keys and walked towards the door. He stood up and you thought he would open the door for you, like he always did, like a gentleman. But now he was just standing there.

“Well, I wish you a good night, then”, you smiled and opened the door half way, until he closed it. He pushed you against it and the next second you felt his lips on yours. You froze and the butterflies in your belly got crazy. Your heart was racing but you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back.

And that’s how this whole affair thing started.

Nearly every night you sneaked out to him, like today.

You’re in his bedroom and the only thing you can hear is heavy breathing, moans and skin clapping together. “Joel-“, you breath out while you’re lying on your stomach, and he’s fucking you from behind.

His one hand grabbing your waist and the other hand pulling your hair back, makes your eyes roll back. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight-“, he groans and thrusting into you even deeper.

You squeeze your eyes together, slowly feeling that very familiar feeling in your lower stomach. “Joel, I’m gonna-“, he cuts you off.

“No, not now. I wanna look at you-“, he gasps, and you suddenly feel an emptiness in you, as he pulls out.

“Joel-“, you whine, and he flips you around on your back. “Shh, you can take it”, he breathes. He leans over you and kisses you passionately. His tongue explores your mouth, and you still can taste yourself in his mouth from him eating you out earlier.

His hand slides over your belly, grabbing your breast and squeezing them harshly while his other hand spreads your legs. He breaks the kiss, and you gasp for air. You look right into his eyes… his beautiful eyes.

He rubs his tip over your wet pussy, teasing you. “Fuck Joel- I cant-“, you whimper and bite your lower lip. “You can…”, he whispers and pushes his hard dick into you.

You moan satisfied as the emptiness fades away. He begins thrusting into you while his hand is slowly wrapping around your neck.

“You’re such a good girl…”, he groans and pushing your waist into the mattress. It doesn’t take you long for you to feel that familiar feeling again. Joel feels it too.

Between your loud moans and breaths, you want to say it, but he places his lips on yours. “I know, baby… me too”, he breaths. Everything gets tense in your body.

You chuckle slightly, but your chuckle fades quickly, by feeling him directly hitting your g-spot. Your moans get louder and you roll back your eyes.

“Look at me…”, he slightly growls by being just concentrated on you. You feel his dick twitching inside of you. You pull yourself together and look at him. His strong arms, six-pack shining in the moonlight that comes through the window.

“My beautiful girl…”, he moans, and that’s it

“Cum for me.”, and you do. You cum all over his dick which leaves you breathless. You look at him, while he continues thrusting into you two more times, until you see his mouth opening and feeling him filling you right up.

You come fresh out of the shower wearing comfy shorts and a white tank top. You put your towel dried hair up in a bun and walk downstairs to the kitchen. You hear the shower still running upstairs, since Joel is still in there.

You walk to the fridge and open it. You get out a beer for Joel and an ice cream for you. You close the fridge and walk to the living room, placing the cold beer on the table and take a quick look at the clock.

12pm

While eating your ice cream, you look at Joels house plants, which just nearly survived because of you. You chuckle sightly and begin watering them.

“they would already be dead if I didn’t had you“, you hear Joels voice say behind you.

“I know”, you reply quietly and concentrated on the plants. You hear Joel sit down on the couch and open his beer. As you keep watering the plants, you see Joel searching for the TV remote.

“it is literally right next to you”, you sigh and let out a chuckle. You put the watering can away and jump on the couch next to him. His stare is fixed on the TV while he drinks his beer. You rest your head on his shoulder and he puts his hand on your thigh, caressing it.

“Joel”, you mumble and keep watching TV.

“Hm..?”, he hums.

“Í have been thinking about… well, how this all will go on, when the summer break ends..”, you whisper cautious, watching his reaction directly.

All you hear is a sigh from him while he takes a sip from his beer. “go on?”, he replies focused on the TV. You gulp, moving away from him and sitting up.

“well yes- how will this thing go on?”, you ask more seriously, pointing on him and you. “or don’t you want it goes on?”, you mumble, feeling your heart getting heavier.

“‘never really thought about it-“´, he replies with a sound like he doesn’t really give a shit, he’s just concentrated on his TV. You scoff and get up. You grab your bag pack and walk to the entrance, slipping into your shoes.

“wait-“, Joel sighs and you hear him get up. “that’s not what I meant”, he mumbles and rubs his forehead while watching you.

“well, I think its really clear what you mean and think”, you scoff again and grab your jacket. “look- I never really thought about it”, he grabs your hand and pulls you towards him.

“I don’t know what you expect from me-“, he mumbles. Your heart gets heavier again, and you shake your hand, while you can't believe what’s really going on.

“what I expect you to-“, you stop and take a deep breath, “I’ll go, my dad will come back from work soon”, you whisper and get your hand out of his grip.

Opening the door. “good night, Joel”, you mumble and walk to your house. The last thing you hear from Joel was a loud sigh, and then the closing of the door.

——

You’re laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling. The bright sunlight was shining through the window. You think about last night and sigh.

‘Did he really never thought about it…?’, you think to yourself.

You stand up and walk over to your desk. You look in the mirror, noticing some hickeys on your neck.

Your mind plays back last night, his lips pressed on your neck, while his fingers are buried inside of you. How he- “y/n, would you come down please?”, you hear your dad calling from downstairs, ripping you out of your thoughts.

“Yes!”, you reply and sigh. You quickly grab your cute summer dress out of your closet and quickly make yourself ready in the bathroom, covering up all these hickeys. While you run downstairs, you put your hair up in a messy bun. “What is it, dad?”, you ask loudly and walk into the kitchen.

“You remember how I talked about these grill party’s, every neighbour does for the neighbourhood? Today its my turn”, you hear him talking out of the living room, while you grab yourself a coke. “yeah, what about it?”, you ask, making your way into the living room.

“well, I need your help in organising, Joel isn’t enough, you know”, he laughs, and you freeze in the doorway, looking at Joel who’s sitting next to your dad on the couch.

“Joel is helping us since we’ll help him next week when he has to do the grill party”, your dad says, looking with a smirk to Joel. You don’t answer.

“hey? Did you hear what I said, lazy head?”, your dad laughs while Joel looks at you. “yea- um sorry. I heard you”, you mumble as you pull yourself together and clear your throat. “I mean, yea, I can help you. What should I do?”, you ask, trying to ignore Joel and just looking at your dad.

“well, while I get everything prepared here, you and Joel can get groceries shopping”, he suggests and takes a look at Joel, looking for a reply.

“Sure”, Joel replies and gives him a pat on his back. “I mean-“, you get cut off. “We’re already on our way”, Joel says and gets up, grabbing his cars keys which are laying on the couch. You scoff, shaking your head. “Come on”, Joel calls and opens the door.

“bye dad”, you mumble quietly and grab your shoes, putting them on and walking through the door, towards his car.

“Thanks for asking me”, you whisper annoyed and open the car door and take a seat.

“You’re welcome, darling”, Joel replies and gets in the front seat and starts the engine. As he begins driving, you let the window down and close your eyes, relaxing under the warm breeze on your face.

“how did you sleep?”, Joel suddenly asks, trying to smalltalk and you chuckle. “you’re really bad at small talk, you know that? But I didn’t sleep well, no”, you reply and watch the kid's playing soccer as you pass by a house.

“look, because of yesterday-“, Joel begins talking but then stops. He rubs his forehead and takes a deep breath.

“I-“, he tries. “we’re there”, you cut him off and directly as he parks you get out of the car.

You have no nerves for this now.

You two arrive back at your home, and take out the whole groceries, placing them on the kitchen counter.

“thanks you two”, your dad says as he walks past you, kind of stressed. “I’ll be back in a minute, I need to go over to Veronica”, he shouts since he’s already out of the door. Veronica is one of your neighbours, she’s a really nice old lady.

You look over to Joel next to you, who just finished taking out all the groceries. You suddenly feel his hands on your waist, turning you around and pressing you against the kitchen counter.

You let out a sigh. “Joel-“, you mumble and try to get out of his grip. “Look at me”, he says clearly and stern.

“Come on, now-“, you whine and he pushes you against the counter even more. “I said, look at me”, he stated. You roll your eyes and look up to him. “what?”, you whisper annoyingly.

The next thing you feel are his lips pressed on yours. You try to resist, but your body replies to him by opening your mouth, allowing his tounge to explore yours. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you.

“I’m sorry…”, he breathes as you pause the kiss. “I’m sorry about yesterday.. of course I want all this to keep going, but- it’s just difficult”, he mumbles and presses his lips on yours again.

“I know…”, you murmur against his lips.

“we’ll figure something out…”, he whispers as he stops the kiss again and caresses your cheek.

You let out a slight smile and nod. You look right into his eyes and that’s when this desire kicks in again. You immediately slam your lips on his again, grabbing onto his shirt. You grab his hand, placing it on your clothed breast. He squeezes it harshly, rubbing with his fingers in circles around your nipple.

You whimper into the kiss, feeling this ache between your legs again. You grab his hand, leading it down your stomach, but he stops. “We can’t- your dad.”, he points out and stops.

“he’s not there yet- I need you…”, you whisper desperately into his ear.

Joel hesitates. “fuck…”, he hisses under his breath. That’s when his hand slips under your dress, pushing away your panties and sliding two fingers into your wet pussy. You let out a satisfied moan and let your head fall back.

“You need to be quick, baby”, he mumbles into your ear while he grabs your waist with his other hand, so he can support you in standing. His fingers slide in and out, searching after your soft spot. As he finds this spot, your moans get louder and your legs weaker.

“fuck, joel…”, you breath out, squeezing your eyes together as you feel your climax building up in your lower stomach. “come on, baby..”, he whispers into your ear while he hits this exact spot with his fingers. You hear the door unlock. As he feels you’re cumming, he covers your mouth with his hand.

“cum for me, sweetheart…”, he demands as he hits this spot one last time and you cum with a loud moan, which his hand muffles.

“I’m back”, you two hear your dad call and hear his steps getting nearer the kitchen. He pulls his fingers out of you, releases you out of his grip and licks off his fingers. You pull down your dress again and that’s when your dad comes in.

“everything okay?”, he asks with a smile and you nod, still out of breath.

“yea”, you reply and give him a forced smile back.

‘That was close’, you think to yourself.

“Well then, let’s make everything ready for tonight”, he chuckles and walks out of the kitchen. You take a glance at Joel, who’s still a little shocked since you two almost got caught. You go on tiptoes and place a kiss on his cheek. You take the groceries and carry them out to the garden, with Joel looking after you.

You hear so many laughters coming out of the garden while you’re in the kitchen to grab some drinks for outside. The whole garden was full, since almost the whole neighbourhood was there.

You go out, with all the drinks in your hand, placing them on the table. You take a glass of water and give it to Veronica, the old lady, which as your neighbour.

“thank you, sweetheart”, she says with a kind smile. You look around, and see everyone chatting, drinking or eating. Your stare falls on Joel, who was talking and laughing with your dad while they are standing at the grill.

‘He would never really approve of you and Joel, would he?’

You sigh.

But you remember Joel words…

“We’ll figure something out“

And that’s how the next following weeks kept going. You keep sneaking over to him at night. But your dad often noticed or saw you going out when he came home late from work, and then you always had to come up with some random excuse.

You slowly noticed that your dad has got quiet of sceptical and tried to talk about you once because you always go out late. But you’re a adult. And you really couldn’t care, all you could care about was him.

Joel Miller.

It was midnight and you and Joel are laying in his bed. You lay in his arms while he’s running his fingers through your hair. Your breath was still fast, 5 minutes ago he fucked the shit out of you.

You feel so safe and comfortable in his arms, but thinking about that you have to go back to Louisiana… You let out a sigh and hug him tightly.

“you’re okay?”, you hear Joel mumbling. You nod slowly, “yea”

Joel knows exactly what’s on your mind. “tell me, when you could go anywhere you want on this earth, where would it be?”, he asks and looks down at you.

You chuckle slightly. “I don’t know… I always wanted to see the northern lights”, you reply.

“why are you asking?”, you ask confused and sit up, pulling the blanket over your body.

“maybe I can take you there someday”, he mumbles and gives you a slight smirk.

You roll your eyes. “yea sure…”, you mumble.

“somewhere else too?”, he raises his eyebrows and sits up too.

“come on joel, don’t play with me”, you hit him playfully. “no, I mean it”, he grabs your waist and pulls you onto his lap.

“something else?”, he asks again.

“hmm… maybe- the maldives… I was never on the maldives”, you whisper.

“noted.”, he mumbles and pretends to write it down. You giggle. “somewhere else?”, he asks again with a smile.

God, how you love his smile.

“really? You don’t even have that much money, old man”, you chuckle as he grabs you by your waist again and pushes you in the mattress while leaning over you.

“i don’t care, i’ll take you wherever you wanna go.”, he whispers and looks right into your eyes. Your thoughts about you leaving immediately vanish and you give him a smile. He presses his lips on yours.

“everywhere?”, you mumble into his kiss while your heart was pounding like crazy.

He nods. “everywhere.”,

He replies and places kisses on your neck, while he slowly moves down your stomach. You bite your lip, looking at him how he disappears under the blanket between your legs. You let out a soft moan as you feel his lips pressed against your clit and give yourself totally to him.

You put on your shoes while the sun starts to come out slowly. “i’ll come back tonight, then”, you mumble tired and go on tiptoes to place a kiss on Joel’s lips. He hums against your lips in agreement.

“I thought about showing you how to play guitar…”, he whispers while his lips can’t leave yours. You let out a chuckle, “okay…”.

You grab your jacket and open the door. “see you then”, you smile and walk out the door.

You’re in town alone. You’re walking around the shopping centre to get some ingredients for your birthday cake. You’ll get 26 years old in 4 days.

Old, you think.

While you were grocery shopping, Joel was knocking at the door of your dads house.

Your dad opens the door. “Hey buddy, what do you need?”, he asks and leans against the doorframe.

“I need to borrow this toolkit of yours, ‘need to repair something”, Joel says and clears his throat. “Yea sure, come in”, your dad smiles and walks with him into the living room. “Wait here”, he says and after some minutes he comes back with the toolkit and hands it over to Joel.

“Thanks, buddy”, Joel replies and gives him a pat on your dads back.

Joel makes his way to the exit. “Hey um, I wanted to ask you something”, your dad stops Joel. He turns around and raises his eyebrows. “sure, what is it?”, Joel replies.

“well um- I noticed y/n sneaking around at night and coming home super tired- I mean, I know she’s a grown up, but she’s still my daughter. I’m just a little concerned , since we usually talk about almost everything“, your dad says and Joel gulps.

“do you know anything? You know, since you two spend some time together while I was working, I’m really grateful for that, buddy”, your dad continues, and Joel pulls himself together.

“sure- no thing, but I know nothing, sorry”, Joel mumbles and shrugs his shoulders. “okay… yea, I just don’t want her to get in trouble or anything, not that she sneaks around with some creep or something“, your dad laughs.

Joel let’s out a fake laugh too while a wave of guilt runs over his whole body.

“you’ll tell me, when you know something, right? Since we’re buddies?”, your dad asks and places his hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“Sure”, Joel replies and takes a deep breath.

“I’ll have to get going then”, he clears his throat again and your dad nods.

“sure, good luck with the toolkit”, your dad smiles and waves at him while Joel walks over the street to his house.

It was 10pm and you walk over Joel’s house with these butterflies in your stomach going crazy again and knock on the door. He opens it.

“Hey”, you say with a smile and go on tiptoes to give him a kiss, but he turns his head. You look at him confused.

“You’re okay?”, you chuckle and stand in front him, waiting for him to answer. He lets out a sigh and rubs his forehead.

“fuck…”, he mumbles under his breath while you raise one eyebrow.

“look- this can’t go on”, he finally speaks out and your heart literally drops.

“w-wait what?”, you stutter in shock and can’t believe this is real right now.

“this won’t and can’t work out.”, he points at you and him.

“what the fuck, joel. Yesterday, you talked with me that you would take me everywhere on this world- and now, you’re like- ending it?”, you repeat everything to make it yourself clear what’s happening right now.

“Look- this was a huge mistake. It’s just too complicated and-“, you cut him off.

“You said, we’ll figure something out“, you get louder and more upset while everything around you gets hotter and your eyes wetter.

“well- unfortunately we can’t. It can’t go on like this, y/n. you need to find someone else”, he mumbles stern.

“find someone else?!”, you repeat and can’t believe every word what’s coming out of his mouth.

“what the actual fuck… I thought you loved me-“, you nearly shout and a tear runs down your cheek.

“love you? I never loved you-“, he suddenly says out loud without thinking. And that’s when your whole world stands still. You stare at him with tears in your eyes.

“fuck you, joel.”, you hiss and slap him right into the face.

Then you just turn around and walk over to your house again, trying to control the emotions which are running through your whole body right now. You quickly wipe your tears away and go into your room, not looking back.

And just like that, everything ended.

It has been four days now since Joel ended this special affair.

You didn’t sneak over to him anymore, but your breath still quickens, and butterflies fly around in your stomach when you see him, but this time, with a sharp pain right into your stomach.

Every time you lay in bed alone, you feel his hands and his kisses all over you.

Every time you think of him, thinking of every night you two had… you can't bear the ache between your legs.

But it was not just the sex…

Every time you were with him, you forgot all your worries and fears.

Every time you were with him, he made you feel safe.

He made you feel loved.

He made you feel alive.

When you think of all this, it was just perfect.

But it wasn’t.

No one could’ve known.

No one could’ve known that you sneaked out mostly every night to go to him.

No one can know how you still feel about him.

No one can see.

It had to be a secret.

When you’re not alone, you just have to act like your just neighbours, what you now just are.

It’s still not easy. It’s hard.

But now that the fear of having to end everything came true… it keeps you from doing it.

Now it’s just a fantasy that maybe someday, you can let everybody see.

See that you love him.

But that’s all just in your head. You love him, you really do, but… it’s more than complicated.

You know that he doesn’t really feel the same way about you do.

But there’s one thing you really know.

You’re in love with Joel Miller.

Yes, the Joel Miller who’s nearly twenty years older than you.

The Joel Miller who’s you’re neighbour and has known you since you’re a teenager.

The Joel Miller you’ve watched doing work in his garden.

The Joel Miller with these beautiful eyes and strong arms.

The Joel Miller who’s unfortunately your dad’s best friend.

And… The Joel Miller who broke your heart in thousand pieces.

You sit in front your birthday cake. Your dad nearly invited the whole neighborhood and now everyone waits for you to blow out your candles. You know Joel’s here too and you feel his eyes on you. That’s when the sharp pain kicks in again.

You look up from your cake and see him leaned against the doorframe of the living room.

‘You’ll regret it, Joel’, you think to yourself.

Then you look on your candles again and blow them out.

“Happy fucking birthday to me”

404 notes · View notes

asdfghjklmals · 1 year ago

Text

ACCIDENTS✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff, angst. no smut. mentions of pregnancy, sex, injury, blood, and abortion. suggestive comments. WORD COUNT: 4.5k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, boyfriend!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple.

SYNOPSIS: during oc gojo girlfriend's yearly check up with shoko, she finds out she's pregnant. how will satoru act when he finds out? AUTHOR'S NOTE: i did make some changes to the beginning compared to the preview that i posted! thank you @mdnxghtjj for staying up late with me to try to make up scenarios on how oc gojo girlfriend would be pregnant by accident lol my google search probably thinks i'm the pregnant one. here is the official start to my version of dad!gojo and the official start to the baby gojo chronicles 🥹 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions, instead please do!

your least favorite time of the year was when shoko had everyone visit her office for a yearly check up. that was a full examination for everyone.

“here, pee on this.” shoko handed you a pregnancy test. you looked at her with confusion written all over your face.

shoko saw your facial expression and reassured you, “it’s just part of the protocol, (y/n). would you rather pee in a cup? last time you told me you hate peeing in cups because you don't want to accidentally pee on your hands.”

“fine... it’s gonna be negative anyways.” you said confidently. you took the test from her hand reluctantly and went to the bathroom.

as shoko gave you a thorough examination, you couldn’t help but peer at the white and blue pregnancy test sitting in the corner next to the sink. it wasn’t your first time using one, but it was always strange taking one. especially for no reason.

"alright, you're done. have you been feeling better since you caught that cold?" shoko asked as you hopped off the examination able. she went back to the sink to remove her gloves and wash her hands. you had caught some horrible cold or stomach bug over a month ago, and it left you with fever, chills, and non-stop vomitting for weeks. you were so sick that you told satoru you wanted to write a will to leave everything to megumi and tsumiki because you didn't think you were going to make it.

“yeah. i haven’t been that sick in so long. i was vomitting like every other hour. satoru thought he was going to die when i wouldn’t let him sleep in our bed. he slept in tsumiki's old room for two weeks, poor guy. i didn't want him to catch whatever it was,” you chuckled at the thought of your 6’3” boyfriend sleeping in a baby pink decorated room.

“(y/n)…”

“yeah?” you turned to face shoko.

shoko asked you cautiously, “are you on birth control?”

suspicion filled your eyes as you peered at the amber-eyed doctor, “yeah, i’ve been on birth control since i was 21… why?”

“your pregnancy test came back positive.”

you stared at the digital screen. the words “pregnant” screamed at you inside your head. were you really pregnant? this was something you never thought would happen, at least not right now.

“that’s not possible, shoko.” you laughed nervously in disbelief.

“according to the test, you are.” shoko looked confused. as a doctor, she was determined to figure out how one of her bestfriends, who was on birth control, got pregnant. she studied your charts and medical records as she chewed on the tip of her pen.

you tried to retrace your footsteps for the past month. you had a very specific routine, and you took your birth control every morning after brushing your teeth and washing your face. your package of pills sat in your bathroom drawer just below the sink as your daily reminder to take your birth control.

shoko folded her arms and cleared her throat, “uhm, i hate to ask you this because i truly don’t want to know, but when was the first time you and gojo had sex after you got sick?”

you thought it was a strange question because wouldn’t shoko want to know when the most recent time you were intimate with satoru was?

“well…” you looked at her sheepishly, a face full of embarrassment, “we had sex right when my cold symptoms went away.” it would’ve been uncomfortable for your aching body, so you made satoru wait. and yes, he complained about it for two weeks.

shoko massaged her temples as she realized what the problem was, “god, (y/n). remember you were literally throwing up all the time when you were sick?”

your jaw dropped, “does that mean i threw up my birth control…?”

“that could’ve been the case, but if you throw up 1-2 hours after taking your birth control, your body might not have the chance to absorb it. your body was technically missing dosages since you were vomiting almost every day for a week…” shoko explained.

you stared at the doctor. your heart was racing and your mind had a million thoughts running through your head. you couldn’t believe that you were pregnant. there was just no way. as much as you and satoru joked about having kids, you knew deep down that satoru wasn’t ready. and you didn’t think he’d ever be. but you were okay with that. you had spent most of your young adult life raising two kids, so you felt like you weren't missing out on much.

“please, don’t tell satoru.” you quietly pleaded with shoko.

“don’t tell gojo-sensei what?” megumi asked from the office door. he dropped his backpack and his gym bag on the floor, walking towards you and shoko.

your eyes widened as you discreetly shifted the pregnancy test under your thigh, “hi kiddo, don’t tell gojo-sensei that i bought him his favorite kikufuku as a surprise.” that was a horrible lie, you're usually better than that.

shoko cleared her throat to try and change the subject, “hi megumi! you’re early for your exam.”

“yeah, i finished jujutsu practice early.” he replied back to shoko as he reverted his gaze back at you, “(y/n), what’s going on?”

“nothing, i just finished my exam. shoko says i’m as healthy as a horse!” you laughed nervously.

“you’re pregnant, aren’t you?” megumi asked you straightforwardly, “you were complaining about your boobs hurting the other day, you felt sick yesterday morning at breakfast, and you complained about being bloated at lunch today. not to mention, you’re always throwing up in my bathroom at home.”

you stopped to think about the symptoms that megumi just listed. you didn’t even consider that being pregnant was the reason why you were experiencing those symptoms. you always thought you were in the clear with those stupid tiny birth control pills.

you sighed, lifting your thigh to grab the pregnancy test. you showed it to megumi. “satoru doesn’t know… and we’re going to keep it that way.”

“why don’t you want to tell him?” he asked you, “are you guys fighting?”

“no, we're not fighting. this whole thing was an accident because of my cold last month... and to be honest, i don't know if your sensei even wants kids.” you smiled halfheartedly at megumi.

“i won’t say anything.” megumi promised. he couldn't imagine satoru gojo not wanting to reproduce and to have mini-satorus running around to terrorize the jujutsu world.

you warned him, “that means you can’t tell tsumiki either, i don’t want her to rush back home from her study abroad program just because of this.” (read 'wherever you are' here)

megumi reached his pinky out to you and you locked yours with his, both of you kissing your thumbs to seal the seal. he wrapped his arms around you in a warm hug. you needed that comfort right now.

“if i do the math, you’re about 5 weeks pregnant, (y/n).” shoko said, “so stop taking your birth control if you want to keep your baby.” megumi’s green eyes peered over at you, interested in what you had to say about that.

“what if i want to get an abortion…?” you asked quietly. megumi’s eyes now wide in horror. 'how could you even think about abortion?' he thought.

shoko sighed, “i think that’s something you should have a serious talk with gojo about. it would be unfair for him not to know.”

you weren’t sure if you should feel excited, nervous, or scared. you were excited because who wouldn’t want to have a child with the love of their life? you were nervous (and scared) because you didn’t know how satoru would react if you told him. you were scared because your unborn baby would be a target to all rival clans, inheriting all of yours and satoru’s enemies. not only that, but also a target for all intelligent curses as well.

later that night: the gojo/(l/n) household

“how was your yearly check up?” satoru asked as you poked at your medium rare steak that you probably shouldn’t be eating now that you were pregnant. he watched you as you rolled a roasted baby potato around your plate with your fork.

“it was fine. healthy as a horse.” you recycled your joke from this afternoon. satoru furrowed his brows, he sensed something was wrong. you were fine this morning, so what happened between the time you went to work and the time you got home?

“are you sure…?” he started to pry.

annoyance starting to rise in your tone. you kissed the back of your teeth, “i just don’t feel well… and the steak is too rare.” you lied. you always ate your steak medium rare. rareness did not bother you, the cow could still be mooing and you’d eat it.

“i can always put it back on the grill, babe. want it medium?”

“well-done, please.” you mumbled, “thanks, sweetheart.”

satoru picked up your plate, extremely confused on why all of a sudden you would eat a well-done steak. it was very unlike you. he kissed you on the cheek to try to ease whatever it was that was bugging you. you wanted to tell him so badly that you were pregnant. you never kept secrets from each other. you watched him slide on his slippers, opening the door to the patio with catoru following behind him. he slapped your steak on the grill again while looking out at the tokyo skyline.

during this time, you wondered what kind of father satoru would be. you imagined he would be the carefree type of dad. he would be the fun, loving, lenient father while you were the one to lay down the rules. that’s how it was when you were both raising megumi and tsumiki. your eyes started to well up with tears at the thought of satoru possibly becoming a father. was this the pregnancy hormones getting to you?

you quickly wiped your tears as satoru made his way back into the apartment with your steak. he closed the door behind him and sat down next to you at the dining table.

“why were you crying just barely?” he asked softly. he could sense your cursed energy wavering from the patio. he knew every mood you were in just because of how your cursed energy looked to his six eyes.

“i wasn’t crying,” you said adamantly, “my eyes were itchy.”

satoru understood that whatever was bothering you, you didn’t want to talk about it. normally, he would pry and pry until you would finally tell him what was wrong, but tonight, he felt that he shouldn’t. he cut your steak into bite-sized cubes for you, just like how you always did before you started eating.

you caressed his cheek with your hand, giving him a soft smile in appreciation.

“should we go get some ice cream with the kids tomorrow? i promise i’ll treat.” he asked, knowing that ice cream always made you feel better after a shitty day.

“yeah. i need that dairy-free double scoop of chocolate ice cream right now.” (read ‘seeing red’ here)

the next day

you had taken half a day off to meet satoru, nobara, yuji, and megumi in shibuya to grab the ice cream that satoru promised you last night. you and satoru walked next to each together as your spirit birds flew overhead. the students were following behind you with their ice cream cones.

“i still can’t believe gojo-sensei has been dating (y/n)-sensei for over 10 years.” nobara hissed at her two partners as she watched you and satoru walking together in front of them.

“why is it hard to believe? sensei is a pretty good looking dude.” yuji said nonchalantly.

megumi sighed and explained, “that’s not the point, itadori. the point is that (y/n)-sensei is way out of his league.”

“you seem pretty close to her, fushiguro.” yuji pointed out, noticing that megumi always defended you no matter what the topic was.

“i kinda owe her and gojo-sensei my life.” megumi grumbled, “they took me in when i was five.”

nobara looked at him, wide-eyed, “you mean… they adopted you when they were 18?! and (y/n)-sensei is basically like your mom?! oh my god! he needs to put a ring on her immediately for all he puts her through!”

megumi knew the reason why you two weren’t married yet. it was for your safety, not because gojo-sensei didn’t want to. he would’ve married you right after high school graduation if that was the case.

you giggled to yourself as you scooped chocolate ice cream to feed to satoru. he grabbed the spoon from you, licking it clean.

“their conversation is so funny.” you said to him.

“are you listening to them with your shikigami? you’re so nosy.” satoru playfully chastised you.

you called back your birds with your hand signal as they flew closer to you and satoru. they seemed to be flying happily as no danger was around. “your students are wondering why we aren’t married yet.”

“you already know why.” satoru put the spoon back into your ice cream.

“you don’t want to make me a target.” you recited back to him. satoru gojo believed that if you were to marry him, you would be a target and gain all his and the gojo clan’s enemies. that would make you the achilles' heel to the strongest sorcerer known to man.

“it’s not like people don’t know that we’re together.” you rolled your eyes, “i can take care of myself, satoru. i'm pretty sure the kamo clan is out for my head as we speak.” (read ‘love at first fight’ here)

“i know you can take care of yourself. i just think it’s safer this way.” he shrugged.

“but i want to have kids too. i’m not getting any younger.” you inserted, hoping he’d take the bait to talk about having kids.

“what are you talking about? we have two kids, megumi and tsumiki.” satoru said nonchalantly, you wanted to face palm your forehead to how oblivious he was.

digging deeper, you added, “i want kids with white hair and blue eyes running around.”

“hate to break it to you sweetheart, but they won’t be getting blue eyes. there can only be one six eyes in a lifetime, you already know that.”

“what about your white hair?” you tip-toed to ruffle his hair as he laughed, grabbing your hand.

“what about your black hair and beautiful green eyes that i love so much?” satoru grinned at you, “if you want, we can practice reproducing later tonight?”

you threw an ice shard at him, hitting his infinity. “no inappropriate jokes around the students, please.” you chastised him as he winked at you. you scooped another bite of ice cream into your mouth as you frowned.

“so feisty… i’m in for a world of trouble if our future kids ever get your attitude.”

“if that’s the case… you better get ready.” you muttered under your breath.

satoru didn’t hear your comment. “hmmm? what’d you say?” he asked.

“nothing, eat your ice cream.” you replied, quickly shoving another spoonful in his mouth.

"ouch, brain freeze." satoru grimaced.

one week later

time was ticking as the baby in your stomach was growing. you had to tell satoru you were pregnant.

your morning sickness was horrible. you didn’t want satoru to catch onto anything, so whenever you felt sick, you ran to the bathroom near megumi’s room across the apartment instead of your master bathroom. (see the apartment layout here)

“babe?” satoru found you in the guest bathroom, hurled over the toilet, dry heaving. “are you okay?” he crouched down to pull your hair back, “do we need to go see shoko?”

“no, it’s fine.” you pushed him away, “leave me alone, please. i don't want to you see me like this.”

“and why would i leave you alone? there's clearly something going on with your health again.” he comforted you, rubbing firm circles on your upper back.

after your morning sickness session in the bathroom subsided, you miserably dragged your feet back to your bathroom to brush your teeth. satoru leaned against the bathroom door frame, arms folded. you turned to face him.

“don’t you have a mission today?” you asked him, hoping that he'd leave soon.

“yeah, i do. but don’t change the subject. what is going on? are you sick?” satoru asked. the past week you had unintentionally become distant and avoided having deep conversations with him. he felt the cold shoulder from you emotionally and he hated it. he was starting to get fed up.

“no. i’m not sick.”

“do you have some type of terminal illness or something that you’re not telling me about?”

“no, satoru!” you scoffed in disbelief. he was so smart and cunning in battle, how could he not put 2+2 together for something as simple as this?

“do you want to break up with me? is that it? are you tired of me?” he asked quietly.

how could he ask you that after 10 years of putting up with him?

“no!!!” you shouted at him.

“then what is it, (y/n)?!” he finally snapped after a week of trying to be patient, “what are you hiding from me?” satoru’s voice raised an octave as he got more frustrated as the conversation was going nowhere.

you couldn’t handle it anymore. you clenched your fists, water started pouring out of the apartment faucets and showers from your raging cursed energy.

“i’m pregnant!” you shouted back at him.

satoru lifted his blindfold, his blue eyes widened, jaw dropped. it was as if time stood still for him. the only thing he could hear was the sound of your angry breathing and all the faucets flowing throughout the apartment.

“what…?” satoru whispered, “that can’t happen. you’re on birth control.”

“that’s what i thought too. but shoko confirmed it.” you told him as tears started to form on your long dark lashes.

“damn it… damn it. damn it!” satoru hissed. he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing off his blindfold and throwing it at the bathroom counter. “why didn’t you tell me?”

his reaction hurt your feelings, “because i didn’t know what your reaction would be and clearly you’re not happy about it.”

“how far along are you?” he asked, ignoring your comment. he walked towards you to stand beside you, putting his hand on top of yours. you flinched as you took your hand back to wipe your tears away.

“6 weeks. it’s early enough that i can get an abortion.” you sniffled.

“just… don’t make any decisions right now.” he said. it sounded like he was begging you, “we can talk more when i get back from this damn mission.”

satoru leaned towards you. he grabbed the side of your head to kiss your temple, “i love you, (y/n). i'm not mad at you.” he whispered.

satoru’s mission

it took everything in satoru not to leave you behind at the apartment alone after the way he reacted. why did he have to be assigned such a lowly mission? any of the students could’ve handled it, so why did it have to be him out of all people and out of all the days?

he teleported to shinagawa where it was reported that a curse was terrorizing an elementary school. it looked deserted when he arrived at the front gate.

satoru raised two fingers to put up a veil, “emerge from darkness, blacker still. purify that which is impure.”

he walked into the school, his six eyes sensing the curse right away. it couldn’t have been more than a grade 2 or 3. he heard a bloodcurdling scream, leading him to the gymnasium.

“please help!” a woman’s voice screamed and begged as the curse towered over her. satoru teleported in front of the woman and swiftly blasted the curse away with sheer force, exorcising it immediately.

“are you alright?” satoru turned to ask the woman. he stopped dead in his tracks.

she was pregnant.

“please sir, save my baby.” she begged as she was bleeding from her abdomen. her hands and arms shielding her womb protectively. the curse must’ve already injured her before satoru arrived. he kicked himself for his late arrival. he could’ve prevented this if he came earlier.

he lifted the injured woman in his arms, “don’t worry. i’ll save you. nothing will happen to you or your baby.” he promised as he teleported to the closest hospital.

tokyo shinagawa hospital

“it looks like the patient and her baby will be fine. she was close to full term. if she lost any more blood, her and the baby would’ve died.” the doctor reported back to satoru as ijichi stood next to him, documenting everything for the report that he would have to fill out later.

satoru was deep in thought about how this woman begged him to save her baby and not herself. it was the fact that she so selflessly put her baby first that really got to him.

he thought about you and what you would’ve done if you were in that woman’s shoes. he knew that you would protect your baby with your life because he would do the exact same thing. satoru felt his protective instinct skyrocket now more than ever.

satoru’s heart felt heavy. he immediately felt guilty knowing that you thought he didn't want to have kids and how hard this must have been for you the past week. he wanted to be there for you, but he was terrified of the unknown. would he be a good father? would he be able to protect this baby? and were you even happy being pregnant with his child?

“ijichi, can you take care of the rest? i have somewhere i need to be.” satoru asked impatiently.

ijichi complained, “are you sure you’re not just trying to pawn off your work to me?”

“there are two people who need me right now.” satoru waved as he teleported back to the apartment. the two people in question? you and the baby that was growing in your belly.

back at the apartment

you felt satoru’s cursed energy appear as he teleported back into the living room. he walked towards you and hugged you tightly, surprising you.

“can’t. breathe.” you said as your face was squished into his firm chest.

he immediately let go of you, scared he hurt the baby by embracing you so tightly.

“i know what you're thinking, the baby is fine.” you said as you hugged him back even tighter in return, “did you know the baby is the size of a sweet pea according to my baby tracking app? so they wouldn't have even felt that hug.”

“that’s pretty small.” he said, chuckling softly. he paused to take a deep breath, he then looked down at you, “can we talk?”

you nodded as he guided you back to the couch, sitting down in the soft white cushions as he sat on the floor in front of you, holding your hands.

he looked you in the eyes, “don’t get an abortion, (y/n).”

you blinked twice, “well, that’s not what i was expecting. what changed your mind?”

“i never said i didn’t want kids, babe.” satoru said defensively.

you mumbled as you folded your arms, “you made it sound like you didn’t. and your reaction when i told you i was pregnant earlier today doesn’t support that statement.” avoiding eye contact with him.

he grabbed your hands again and explained his point of view, “i was upset that you hid it from me. and i was surprised because you were on birth control which is supposed to prevent pregnancy. and i was really fucking scared.”

“scared? the satoru gojo scared of a baby the size of a sweet pea?” you emphasized. he furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“i had a come-to-jesus moment during my mission.” he started to say, “(y/n), i’d do anything for you. just like you would for me. but now… we can’t put each other first anymore. we have to set our priorities elsewhere.”

“what do you mean by that?”

“we have to think of this baby and how this baby will always come first now.”

you were quiet, processing what satoru just said. yours and satoru's lives were going to drastically change. this baby would be your number one priority in life. you and satoru spent the last decade caring deeply for each other and being each other's prime concern, now this baby would come first.

you realized that he was terrified of having this baby be the center of his universe, knowing that the baby would be defenseless without you and him. satoru wanted to protect this baby with his life, just like the mother he saved today who wanted to save her baby's life.

being a parent meant that you would always have your heart living outside of your body, and that would make you vulnerable to extreme pain, but also let you experience indescribable love. and that was something you were willing to risk experiencing in life with satoru.

“you're right, babe. i agree.” you said softly, you held his cheek in your hand. “you really want to do this? you really want to be a dad?”

“hell yes i want this.” satoru said confidently, holding your hand against his cheek.

“how dare you get me pregnant, satoru gojo.” you jokingly reprimanded him.

he kneeled forward into you as he kissed you softly, “sorry, it was an accident.”

EXTRA:

“babe! show me this baby app you’ve been using this past week.” satoru demanded playfully as he pulled you into his lap. you grinned as you grabbed your phone to pull up the ‘what to expect’ app.

“so! baby gojo is the size of a sweet pea or a nail head. and they’re .25 inches small.”

"baby gojo... i like the sound of that." he smiled at the thought. he nodded, a signal for you to continue.

“it says that baby gojo’s face is forming and taking shape! i hope they don’t get your big head...” you laughed as satoru frowned.

“my head is not big!” he defended himself, “moving on.”

“it says that the heart starts to pulse around this time and we should be able to hear a heartbeat at my first pre-natal appointment…” you said with a smile.

“i’ll make sure i request that day off.”

“you better! or i’ll have a word with principal yaga.” you smacked his chest playfully with the back of your hand. “baby gojo supposedly looks like a tadpole with a tiny tail. and i won’t feel any movement for awhile.”

“so you can’t feel it move or anything?” satoru asked curiously.

“no, but i’m feeling these pregnancy symptoms.” you complained, “my boobs hurt, my heartburn is worse than usual, and the morning sickness is killing me.”

“okay, so basically, don’t touch your boobs anymore, carry extra tums for you, and hold your hair for you when you throw up in the morning. got it.” satoru noted.

you glared at him with your emerald green eyes, “please stop talking.”

wanna know how the rest of oc gojo girlfriend's pregnancy goes? read the next chapter, ‘milestones’ here.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

1K notes · View notes

crljhnn · 2 years ago

Text

The older Jefferson

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader

Summary: After Rowley announces that his older (half-)sister, who lives quite far away and has never met the Heffleys, is going to visit him over the break Susan invites his family over for dinner. Her not being what Rodrick expects, he starts crushing, which results in him trying to impress her - failing horribly.

No physical description; No use of y/n

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: None

A/N: Hi, just a quick warning that English isn’t my first language and that this is also the first time I’ve ever written a longer text in English that isn’t a school assignment. I also don’t fully understand Tumblr yet, which makes me honestly a bit anxious to post.

[This and a gender-neutral version are also posted on AO3]

“Why haven't you ever mentioned that you have an older Sister?” Rowley and Greg were sitting on the Heffleys living room floor - Rodrick occupying the whole space on the couch - playing a video game. Well, Greg was. It was a single-player. He promised they would take turns, but by now Rowley had been over for about two and a half hours and hadn’t even had the chance to touch the controller yet. He gave up on asking and settled on just watching about 45 minutes in.

“I talked about her before. Multiple times actually.” That is true. Rowley looks up to his sister a lot “Also, she is technically my Half-Sister. She’s been living with her Dad for longer than I remember. Normally we are the ones flying over to visit during summer break, but she hasn’t visited since she was a little Kid, and after her school schedule finally allowed it, we thought it would be a good idea if she, for a change, came here instead.”

“It sounds like you two get along great!” Mrs. Heffley walked in, holding a laundry basket under one arm while carrying Manny with the other.

“We do! I can’t wait to show her my room and have her around for the entire break! I have so much planned out already, it's gonna be so much fun! Best summer ever!”

“That sounds lovely Rowley, I wish Greg was so excited to hang out with Rodrick, but they just won't get along.” Susan sighed, throwing a pitiful glance at her two oldest, who simultaneously let out a laugh hearing this.”

“Yeah, never gonna happen.” Greg says, “I would rather spend the whole summer in school than voluntarily hang out with this idiot.”

“My Sister is actually around the same age as Rodrick.” Rowley buts in. Greg doesn’t understand how this is relevant, but it probably adds to his mother's yearning for her two oldest sons to get along. Rodrick lets out a laugh hearing that.

“I can’t wait to meet them. Just imagine an older, female version of Rowley. That’s actually fucking hilarious!”.

“Watch your language! Also, I'm sure she is wonderful.” Gregs Mom loosens her lecturing stance, turns around, and smiles at Rowley “I would love to have you and your family over for dinner sometime. It has been a while since I’ve seen your parents and I would love to meet your sister.”

“That sounds great Mrs. Heffley. I will ask my parents as soon as I get home!”

That brings us to about a week later, when the Jefferson family, including their oldest daughter, is standing in front of the Heffleys House, ringing their doorbell.

Rowley has been telling you all about his best friend Greg for years, which made you somewhat excited about finally meeting him. However, you can’t say that the picture your brother painted is entirely positive, finding him rather irritating in many of the stories you were told over time. You aren't too mad though, assuming it is normal for young, teenage boys to act like jerks every once in a while. Not everyone can be such a sweetheart as Rowley. Overall you're glad your brother managed to maintain such a long-lasting friendship.

And then there was Rodrick. You've heard rather interesting stories about him as well. In the beginning, you found those quite amusing, that was until you realized that Rowley was genuinely terrified of him. Not the best first impression someone could make on you. Influenced by seeing your younger sibling grow up to be such a sweet and genuine person you tend to be a bit protective from time to time.

You hear some hushed voices from inside, and you can identify one of them as female, reminding someone to behave. Then the door opens and a woman, who you assume to be Mrs. Heffley, kindly smiles at you. Your suspicion is confirmed a second later when she introduces herself and shoos you into the house, before continuing to greet the rest of your family.

Crossing the threshold you can now see a man standing slightly behind Greg's mother. He introduces himself as Frank, making quite a kind impression on you. Then he leads you into the living room to meet his sons.

The two older ones hardly even notice you at first, too occupied with arguing and rowing with each other.

“Boys!”, their father speaks up, successfully catching their attention. Rather comically their gazes fall from their father to you, their eyes widening and their mouths dropping open. You were not what they expected. While Greg looks just shocked, you would describe Rodricks state as mesmerized.

He recovers fast, pushes Greg off of him, stands up, and puts on what he hopes is a charming smile. Extending his hand he starts to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m-”

At least he tries to.

“Rodrick. I know. My brother has told me one or two rather interesting stories about you”, your smile is sharp. He gulps, his confident smile turning sheepish, cursing Rowley in his head. You are not what he expected and you are definitely not anywhere close to being a female carbon copy of your, in his eyes, embarrassing younger brother.

He normally wouldn’t consider himself the kind of person who has a type, but from now on, if someone asked, he would probably revert to describing you. You were just ethereal, everything about you was attractive to him. The way you walked, talked, and carried yourself, but also your clothing and hairstyle. Your pretty face just rounds up your whole appearance, making you all the more alluring.

He had to get on your good side. While a family dinner, especially with Greg present, may not be the best opportunity, he could ask Rowley to put in a few good words for him. That kid was easily influenced (or intimidated). Still, making the best possible impression over dinner wouldn’t cause any harm either.

You turn to the other boy who has been silently watching the exchange. Now that your attention is on him he starts feeling nervous as well. Your expression, however, turns a bit more friendly.

“And you must be Greg.” he nods. You introduce yourself and lastly say hello to Manny who is sitting on the floor playing with some figurines. By now the others have entered the room, causing Susan to start leading you all to the dining table.

You’re seated between Rowley and Greg, across from Rodrick, which results in quite frequent eye contact. On one side you really want to intimidate him a bit. This could maybe make your brother's life a bit easier, at least for the time being. On the other side, you do want to make some conversation, maybe throw in a bit of (family dinner appropriate) flirting or at least find out if he’s single.

It’s really hard to hold a grudge against someone who is entirely your type.

While you’re conflicted, Rodrick, on the other hand, is sweating. Nervously fidgeting in his seat. You didn’t seem as irritated with him anymore, if the eye contact was anything to go by. Was this his chance to redeem his shitty first impression? He cursed his brain for failing to come up with something cool to say.

Since when is it so hard to talk to girls? Is it getting hotter in here? What impresses girls? What does he normally brag about? His band! That’s it. Now he just has to bring it up somehow. Maybe he can bribe Greg to ask him about it. No, that’s too risky, he can’t count on Greg to not fuck this up. He is just going to casually bring it up ‘I’m in a band by the way, pretty sick huh?’ ‘Do you like music? Cause I’m in a band’ No that’s stupid everyone likes music… ‘Which kind of music do you listen to?’ That’s good, he should bring up the topic of music first, that’s a normal conversation topic. After that step two is to bring up the band. That’s easy, he got this.

Now he just needs to wait till your attention is on him again and then he can smoothly lead the conversation in the desired direction. He has to calm down, he can do it.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m in a band!” He speaks way louder than intended, his voice is squeaky, and in the middle of the sentence he has the most embarrassing voice crack imaginable.

Silence.

The sole attention is now on him. All he hears is Greg's snickering which causes him to kick him under the table.

“Ow!” That was not Greg's leg. He looks up to see you looking at him with a questioning expression.

That’s it. He fucked up. His chances were already low, but he still managed to shrink them even more, making them most likely completely vanish. Great. His ears were ringing, all he can hear is Greg's quiet laughter in the background.

“I'm sorry I didn’t mean to kick you, I-” he starts his apology but loses track of what he is trying to say when he sees your expression change. You're clearly trying to suppress a smile, but it's not working at all.

“You’re adorable.” Rowley chokes on his food, and Greg's laughter abruptly stops

“Rodrick? Adorable?” That’s it. Greg gives up on ever trying to understand girls. How can his stupid older brother embarrass himself like that, then kick the poor girl under the table and still be perceived as adorable by her, especially since she is so much out of his league?

Rodrick however, was still not functioning properly.

“So that band, is its name by any chance Löded Diaper?”

“Yeah.” He is proud of himself for speaking at an appropriate volume without stuttering. “How do yo-”

“I saw your creepy white Van in front of the house. What’s up with that, kidnapping little kids as a side hustle?” You are still smiling, and with your stupid joke you somehow manage to relax the atmosphere a bit, the adults going back to their conversation.

Rodrick too is now smiling, looking at you with an expression you could only describe as lovestruck, even though you just insulted him.

He is contemplating making a joke about how the space in the back could be quite useful for more than just trapping kids but decides against it, fearing to make it awkward again. Getting nervous about taking too much time to come up with an answer he instead lands on “No only kidnapping pretty girls like you.”. As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it, realizing it's in fact not a funny and flirty thing to say, but honestly rather creepy.

At the end of the evening, Rodrick has messed up flirting with you multiple times, however, it’s his luck that you find his desperate attempts to look cool to impress you weirdly endearing. Not that he realizes that. Calling Rodrick confused, questioning why you were still talking to him, would be an understatement.

He certainly doesn’t know how he can have messed up so many times and still end up finding a little note with your number on it in his pullover hood after you left.

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #fem!reader #diary of a wimpy kid #fluff #first meeting #oneshot #x reader #reader insert #fanfic

4K notes · View notes

shadowandlightt · 10 months ago

Text

Of Nightmares and Memories |seven| Azriel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

A/N: Little bit of a filler, setting up for the second act. I'm very excited for you guys to see where this is going <3

The week that she was gone was more miserable than most. Your fae healing would kick in, leaving little trace of Tamlin’s brutality, only for him to return and beat you to a pulp once more. You were starting to lose track of the days, only seeming to exist in between Tamlin’s visits, when Feyre reappeared. Not looking worse for wear, but instead looking a little lighter than when she left, but filled with the same amount of anxiety.

You could hear Tamlin lock her away into the study, questioning her on everything about the Night Court. Feyre saw so little though, you knew that. Your brother wouldn’t put the Court at risk by bringing her anywhere but the Moonstone Palace. But she met with Mor, and that was enough to bring me to my knees. Just knowing she was alive was enough. But then Feyre mentioned Cassian and Azriel and tears started to flow freely. Because they were alive and in one piece. After everything they made it, they were alive and well. Rhys wouldn’t have mentioned them otherwise.

You sobbed on the floor of your rooms, curled in a ball. Because he lived. Despite it all, Azriel lived. And maybe, somehow you would see him again. Maybe, just maybe, you would be able to escape and make it home. Bide your time until the faebane was out of your system enough to reach out to Rhys for help.

The Tithe came a week later. You hadn’t left your rooms in months, hadn’t felt the sun on your face. Food was brought to you by Alis, sometimes Feyre would sneak into your rooms for a moment. You wish she would’ve after she returned from the Night Court so you could learn how Rhys and Mor were first hand, instead of having to strain to hear it all.

You watched from my window as Feyre sat beside Tamlin, looking like the picture of a Spring Court lady. It made you sick. She belonged here just as much as you did. You couldn’t hear from where you stood, but you could see them just fine. The way half of the people barely had enough to pay the Tithe. It broke your heart, Tamlin should have delayed it again. Should have given his people more than three months to recover from the fifty years of pain and suffering they had to endure. But Tamlin was proud, too proud.

So when Feyre gave her jewels to a water wraith, you knew he would be furious. You could hear it over the dinner that followed. The way they snapped at one another, and then silence, like Feyre left the room.

It was hours before you heard the sound of what seemed like an explosion. You couldn't move to find out what happened, so you strained my ears to hear whatever you could. All you could hear was Tamlin apologizing over and over again to Feyre. He keeps promising he’ll do better, keeps promising they’ll get through this and that things will change. You wonder if she knows it’s all a lie?

Rhys comes for her a few weeks later. In the middle of the night, while you’re all fast asleep. You don’t wake until Tamlin comes bursting into your rooms, demanding to know how he can get Rhys to release Feyre from their bargain. When you tell him that your stubborn brother would rather die than give Tamlin something he wanted, he beat you. And then beat you some more, until you were nothing but a bloodied mess on the floor.

He was waiting by an oak tree at the end of the week. Your body was sore and broken, but healing slowly. Rhys appeared with Feyre in tow, looking exhausted as always. You were beginning to truly worry about her, because it was obvious she was a shell of the human you met months ago. A shell of the one who slapped Tamlin and dared to go against Amerantha.

Now she was nothing. And there was nothing I could do about it, and hardly anything Rhys could do in one week every month. He could try to get her back, but in the end she would return her and fall deeper and deeper. She was right when she told Tamlin she was drowning.

All hell broke loose the following day though.

Though Ianthe returned, you were finally allowed to leave your rooms for a time. You found Feyre standing by the front door, begging Tamlin to take her with him on his trip. He refused, of course, leaving her alone in the doorway. When Feyre said she was coming whether Tamlin liked it or not, you could see something change in him. That’s when she slammed against an invisible wall. That’s when you realized we were both fucked.

She begged and begged, but he kept moving. He mounted his horse and rode away. Lucien lingered for a moment, saying something I couldn’t quite make out from the ringing in my own ears. She was going to rip herself apart or die in this manor house.

You watched as Lucien and Tamlin disappeared. Watched as Feyre crumbled in on herself and slowly began to lose control. Darkness seeped out of her, then fire and ice. She was wrapping herself in a cocoon of it as she crashed to the floor. your heart broke, because you had no power to help her.

Alis called her name, begging her to calm down. But Feyre couldn’t hear her, or chose not to. You felt the need to vomit as I watched on, feeling more helpless than you ever had before.

“Help her!” Alis demanded, finally seeing you standing there.

“I can’t,” you choked out, “I have no power. Your master….he…I can’t do anything.”

Feyre was going to die. There would be nothing left of her by the time Tamlin and Lucien made it back here. She would be nothing but a pile of ashes at this rate. you felt utterly sick, and angry. Angry that you had no power left to help, angry that you’d been locked away too for too long. Angry that Tamlin would even think about locking Feyre away like this, knowing that she would react poorly.

But reacting poorly is an understatement. She was going to bring the whole place down around us. We would all die at her hand, and she wouldn’t mean to do it. She would topple the Spring Court tonight, without meaning to do it. And you would finally be free, in life or in death.

But then the very foundations shuttered, and the sight of blonde hair filled my eyes. you fell to your knees, because it was Mor, whole and beautiful as ever. She couldn’t see you from where you were, but you could see her as she reached into the cocoon of darkness and pulled Feyre out.

“Go,” Alis whispered to me, “Go with them.”

You shook your head, unable to move. Surely it couldn’t be that simple. Surely there would be something else to stop me from leaving. you couldn’t even make it to the gate before. Why would now be any different?

“Please-please take care of her,” Alis begged Mor, “Take care of them both.”

“Both?” Mor questioned.

It was then, with the thought of Azriel and finally returning home to Valaris. Finally being able to fly again and feel the sun and wind on my face. Finally being able to feel Cassian’s bone crushing hugs, and Rhys….oh Rhys. It was only then that you got to your feet and moved from your hiding spot.

Mor faltered upon seeing me. You thought she might even drop Feyre as a sob ripped from her lips. Feyre seemed to be unconscious in the woman’s arms, unaware of what was happening. But Mor knew, the second she laid eyes upon me, she knew. Even though my body had changed and I’d matured, she still saw me.

“How is this possible?” She questioned, taking a small step towards me.

“You don’t have time,” Alis warned, “Someone will have alerted the High Lord, he’ll be on his way.”

“Take me home Mor,” you beg, “Please Mor, take me home.”

“Consider yourselves very, very lucky that your High Lord was not here when we arrived,” Mor warned.

With tears in her eyes, Mor nodded towards me and took a step towards the door. Feyre finally took in a breath, deep and shuttering. You swallowed hard and followed them out of the door. Mor told Feyre that nothing was going to keep them from her, and that Rhys shattered the shields without a second thought.

What would he do when he realized what else he freed? Would he be happy to see you again after so many years? Or would it be too painful for him, after moving on hundreds of years ago. Because surely they all moved on. Surely they didn’t think about you the way you thought of all of them. Surely they didn’t spend every day mourning the life you could have had if Tamlin hadn’t told his father and brothers where to find you that day, or if Rhys hadn’t told Tamlin, or if he’d simply showed up to meet you that day. So many things could be different.

“Hold onto me,” Mor told you , tears streaming down her face.

You grasp onto her arm and hold tightly to it as she winnows you. Your eyes strain against the bright light that floods your vision. Rhys is leaning against a tree, and straightens the second he sees the three of you. He falters, just as Mor had. Eyes blinking furiously as if he’s trying to clear his head.

“You-”

“Rhys,” your voice cracks, “It’s me. I promise.”

“I-” He shakes his head, “You’re dead.”

“No,” You whisper to him, “That’s what they wanted you to think. I’ve been locked away this whole time.”

He reaches for you. Like you’re a ghost that’s going to disappear the second he touches you. Only you don’t, because you’re living and breathing. He breaks then, tears streaming down his face as he pulls you into a tight hug.

“We need to move, Rhys,” Mor reminds him, “The faster we’re in the Night Court, the better.”

“Take me home,” You say again, “I just want to go home.”

“Oh, Little Star,” for the first time in hundreds of years, the name is said with such love and adoration. You don’t flinch when you hear it, you don’t expect it to be accompanied by a blow. Because you know you’re safe now. Safe and loved and protected, “Let’s go home.”

Tag List

@historygeekqueen @saltedscotchcoffee @queerqueenlynn @wallacewillow0773638 @sstrohma @hnyclover @thelov3lybookworm @maddybraps @minnieoo @witchymomfrien @mariahoedt @one-big-fangirl @amara-moonlight @st0rmyt @annamariereads16 @hunterksmith @sleepylunarwolf @sh4nn @emryb @mikatanazaki @ilovespideyyy @nickishadow139

#acomaf #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x you #azriel x reader #acotar fic #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger

328 notes · View notes

cameronspecial · 7 months ago

Note

Could you make a one shot where the reader grew up with a very loving family (especially her dad) and rafe surprises her with gifts, activities and acts of service that she loves. She gets confused and asks him what’s with the stuff. He says that he’s recently been spending lots of time with her parents and always asks them what reader likes to show that he can meet the bar her dad has set. (And maybe slip in something on how he’ll set his bar with their future daughters and their boyfriends 😈🥹). I always look forward to reading ur work and I just wanted to finally ask cuz you write everyone’s requests so well!!

Setting The Standards

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Y/N loves that Rafe likes to spend time with her parents without her. She finds it sweet that he takes time out of his day to get to know the other people she loves and thinks it is good for him to be around a family that actually treats him with love and attention. Every time Rafe visits her parents, she notices he gives her a gift and does one more chore around the house the way she likes it. A part of her feels like he is trying to condition her, but it wouldn’t really make sense because he is the one doing the visiting.

One day, she decides to ask him about it. Her parents spent the day with Rafe at her and his shared house while she was at work. They had to leave before she got home because they had to get to her brother’s house to babysit her niece. She places her purse on the side table and pads to the living room. She isn’t surprised to find a box wrapped in flower-patterned wrapping paper and a bow. She approaches it with a smile, tearing into it as soon as she is within arms reach of it. Her instinct to wait for Rafe goes out the window. She didn’t expect to find ketchup chips in the box. Her parents must have told him about how she became obsessed with the snack when they vacationed in Canada a few years ago. Her hands eagerly reach for the bag and pull it open, shoving the red potato slices into her mouth. She moans at the sweet taste that reaches her taste buds. Rafe enters the room with a chuckle, “I see you like the snack I got you.” His feet take him behind her and he reaches into the bag to pop a chip into his mouth. She stares up at him with a smile. “I did. Thank you. What were you doing?”

“I was switching out your winter clothes with your summer ones. The weather is getting warmer so it’s time for flower patterns and shorts, Bumblebee.” He kisses her cheek with his arms around her waist. Butterfly erupts in her stomach. She hates changing between her closets. It takes forever and is so tedious.

“Aww, thank you, Baby. It means a lot that you do all this for me.” She rests her hands on his and they sway for a little until she gets the courage to ask what she has been wanting to ask. “So… I have noticed that whenever you are with my parents, I get gifts and your acts of service are more tailored towards me. I was wondering why.”

They freeze and he caresses her forearms. “One reason why I love spending time with your parents is that I get to learn small stuff about you that you may not see as important to me. It helps me make you happy and that’s my mission in life.”

She awws and kisses his cheek, “That’s so sweet, Baby. I wish I could do those things for you.” He brings his hand up to her cheek as a reassurance. “You may not know it, but just being here for me is enough, Bumblebee. Plus, how am I supposed to show our daughter how she should be treated if I don’t lead by example? Because both of you are meant to be treated like queens. I’m just setting the standards.” A heat spreads over her cheeks at the mention of their possible future. It solidifies her belief that he will make a great father one day. “You are going to set the standards so high for her that she will recognize that she only deserves to be married to a king,” Y/N adds. “Thank you for everything that you do for me.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

210 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 8 months ago

Text

Mr. Holmes Maid (2)

Summary: You’re his maid.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Maid!Reader

Warnings: angst, power imbalance, dub-con (just in case) cuddling/sharing a bed, master-servant relationship, the reader was an orphan, mentions of physical abuse against the reader (childhood/implied), inappropriate behavior

Mr. Holmes’ maid (1)

Mr. Holmes’ maid masterlist

Four months after Sherlock came to your room for the first time, one of his former classmates came for a visit.

Everything was normal. You prepared tea and biscuits. While you followed the strict codes of conduct and were not allowed to speak to Sherlock’s guest, he wouldn't stop asking you questions you didn't want to answer. The man didn’t want to take the hint that you were uncomfortable around him.

His hand brushed against your bottom more than once, and he shamelessly stared at your chest.

“I wondered why Sherlock had a maid all for himself. Now I know,” he grinned and patted his lap. “Why don’t you give me the same treatment you give your master.”

“I-“ you didn’t know how to react. This man was just awful, but you weren’t able to fight him. You were only a maid, and he was your master’s friend.

“What’s going on here?” Sherlock came just in time to save you. He cocked his head and watched you whimper in distress. You never acted like that. Not in front of him, or his brother.

“I only offered your maid to sit on my lap, my friend,” the man patted his big tummy. “Maybe she likes me more than you. You’re always so…strict.”

“We are rather acquaintances, than friends. I haven’t heard from you for years,” Sherlock stepped toward you to stand by your side. “Maid, please retreat. We have to discuss manners you wouldn’t understand.”

“Yes, Mr. Holmes,” you never felt more relieved than in that moment. The man scared you in more than one way.

You curtsied and left the room, walking as fast as your feet would carry you.

All you wanted was to be away from this man and his demands.

Your loyalty belongs only to your master, Sherlock Holmes.

“This person,” Sherlock angrily entered your room. He cursed under his breath, using words you never thought belonged to his vocabulary. Your master was angry. Why, you didn’t know. “How dare he come here believing he can offer me money to get my maid.”

“What?” You sat up on the bed, suddenly wide awake. “I don’t understand.”

“He called me rude and unreasonable because I didn’t want to hand my maid over to him,” Sherlock pushed his locks out of his face. “I haven’t heard of him for years, and he comes here to steal my maid.”

You didn’t understand. Why would a man you never saw before come to Sherlock to get you? Your lips wobbled and you felt like a cold hand gripped your heart.

“Do not fret, my dear,” Sherlock said. “I sent him home, not without giving him what he deserved.”

You glanced at Sherlock, shocked at the sight of his split knuckles.

“Mr. Holmes,” you got up from the bed to take care of his hands. “We need to clean the wounds. Let me help you.”

“I cleaned the split skin,” he said, and gently ran his index finger over your cheek. He hummed and watched your shoulders relax. “He will never bother us again. We should rest now.”

“Yes, Mr. Holmes,” you murmured, already used to sleeping in one bed with your master. “I changed the sheets and got you another blanket. It’s getting colder, and you are not used to the cold.”

“So sweet,” he cupped your chin with his index finger and thumb. “I wonder if your lips taste sweet too.” Sherlock leaned closer. His lips almost touched yours when he dropped his hand and stepped away from you. “I-I should…no…I need to reread a few papers. Have a good night.”

Sherlock left your chamber and didn’t return that night. It was the first night you spent alone, and you felt cold and lonely.

“Mr. Holmes, there is a letter for you,” you shyly glanced at Sherlock. He was engrossed in reading another letter. “I have finished my chores for today. I’ll retreat to my chamber to knit.”

“Wait—” He suddenly got up. “I need your opinion on something.” Sherlock walked out of his office to get a blanket. “I got it for the winter. You said it’s cold in your chamber and I thought of you.”

Sherlock pushed the blanket into your hands and turned his attention toward the letter without waiting for your answer. Your heart fluttered. He got a warm and soft blanket for you, and it meant the world to you.

“Have a good night, Mr. Holmes.”

You woke like any other night with Sherlock’s arms locked around your body like anchors holding you to him.

“You’re awake,” Sherlock murmured your name. “Why?”

“There is no reason,” you whispered, afraid to tell him the truth. You woke because of a bad dream – or rather a memory from the past. This happens once in a while if you allow yourself to think of the past too much.

“Do not lie to me, maid,” he sounded angry, and you flinched. “You were crying in your sleep and tried to get away from me.”

Forced to tell him the truth you took a deep breath. “I had a bad dream,” you sniffled. “I dreamed of the orphanage I spent my childhood at. The children called me names, and the nuns hit me with a ruler.”

“You never told me that you grew up in an orphanage,” he sounded surprised, and his tone softened. “Why did you never tell me?”

“I’m here to serve, not for chatter. That’s what I've been told all my life. I didn’t think it was important,” you murmured. Sherlock never asked questions about your childhood. He only cared about your reputation and your cleaning skills.

He inhaled sharply. A habit when something angers him.

“I need to know every detail. Details are important,” he said. “I want you to tell me everything about your past. Now!”

“Yes, Mr. Holmes,” you hoped he’d lose interest and forget about your nightmare in the morning. “I was all alone, and the other children didn’t like me. No one ever told me why they didn’t like me. I tried anything but…” You wiped your eyes. “No one ever wanted me.”

“You’re here now,” Sherlock whispered in your ear. “Safe and sound.”

The night was shorter than usual. Someone yelled Sherlock’s name and harshly knocked at the door. You woke, startled by the man screaming your master’s name.

“Open the door!” the man yelled even louder. “You dishonored my wife!”

“Y/N, I want you to stay here and try to get more sleep. Let me handle this,” Sherlock slipped out of bed and grabbed his robe. He threw it on and left your room.

You couldn’t go back to sleep. His warmth left your body, and your teeth chattered. Scared you listened closely as the man calmed and repeatedly apologized to your master.

“People these days,” Sherlock reentered your room, closing the door with a loud thud. “He dared to come to my home and scare my—” He looked at you, unsure what you are to him. “Never mind. He came to the wrong house.”

You nodded and lifted the covers. “Are you alright, Mr. Holmes.”

“Of course, Y/N,” he took his robe off and joined you in your bed again. “We will sleep a little bit. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”

“Mr. Holmes, what a pleasure to see you,” the owner of the boutique spluttered, obviously excited that the infamous and wealthy detective came to his boutique again. “What brings me the pleasure of your presence.”

The man smiled widely and almost drooled all over your master. You got ignored, like most of the time. Well, your simple dress and appearance don’t catch the eye of many people. In the end, you’re only a peasant, not a person to most of the people you meet.

“I need a new wardrobe for my—,” Sherlock cleared his throat when you didn’t react, “maid. Y/N, come here.”

“Mr. Holmes,” you were surprised he told the man that the dresses and winter coat he ordered weren’t for Enola, his sister, and ward. “Do you want me to have a look at the dresses for your sister?”

He sighed, exasperated. If Sherlock hated one thing, it was waiting time. “The dresses are for you. I need you to try one on. I don’t want to waste my money on dresses not suiting you.”

“I-“Confused you look at the owner of the boutique. He looked as shocked as you.

“I need her to represent the household, Holmes. I cannot let her run around in a torn dress,” Sherlock touched the back of your dress, gripping it tightly until you heard a ripping sound. “See, the material is the worst. I have a reputation to protect.”

“Mr. Holmes,” the man nodded eagerly. He called for his wife to help you try on one of the dresses. “Of course.”

Sherlock hummed and looked around the boutique. He wasn’t interested in buying another vest or coat. Your master tried to distract himself to not follow you and watch you redress. He was a gentleman after all…

“Oh, look at you,” the boutique owner’s wife cooed. She told you to look in the mirror. The woman in the mirror staring back at you wasn’t you. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

The biscuit and rose-colored silk bustle dress with lace trimmings fitted you like it was made for you. “It’s beautiful,” you replied, but didn’t know what else to say. You've never worn a dress like this before. In lack of words, you remained silent.

“Let me get Mr. Holmes,” she finally said and left you alone with your racing heart. Why would he buy you a dress like this? Maybe it was another test. He’d buy it for his sister, or some other woman and wanted to remind you of your place.

“What do you think, Mr. Holmes?” She came back with your master by her side.

Sherlock looked you up and down in the new dress. He hummed and clasped both hands behind his back while going around you.

“It’s well done,” he said. “I’m satisfied with your handiwork. Let’s try on the others,” Sherlock stopped right in front of you to watch you drop your gaze. “Shall we?”

“Yes, Mr. Holmes,” you murmured, unsure how to react to his behavior. “What do you want me to try on next?”

He cocked his head to glance at the dresses. “The red one. I liked it the most.” Sherlock followed you. Hand brushing over your back. “I hope you like it as much as I do. You will look beautiful in it.” He whispers the last part.

Your heart was beating out of your chest. Sherlock’s hand on your back felt warm and soothing, still, it was inappropriate. He openly showed affection toward a peasant.

This could ruin his reputation, and yours…

Part 3

Henry Cavill’s characters tag

@cocojo1024

@sultryfandoms

@spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

@minervadashwood

All works tags

@yolobloggers

@shikshinkwon

@miraclesoflove

@mogaruke

@shatteredabby

@soryuwifeyxx

@letsdisneythings

@i-love-superheroees-blog

@thevelvetseries

@anaelsbrunette

@sabascio

@goodgodimaweirdperson

@that-place-called-middle-earth

@wally-darling-hyperfixation

@zxph-yr

@belovedcherry

@matsumama

@emoryhemsworth

@buckybarnesplumwhore

@coldmuffinbanditshoe

@princesssterek

@xoxabs88xox

@wandering-spiritash

@riathearora

@the-loml-got-nailed

@greeneyedblondie44

@gh0stgurl

@charmed-asylum

@fallen-wolf22

@thegirlnextdoorssister

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@black-rose-29

@caplanbuckybarnes

@wykkedwitch

@sexicherri3

@loki-laufeyson-1054

@liloxclu

@km-ffluv

@bubsonnobx

@katsav17

@itsbqueenthings

@sultryfandoms

@supraveng

#sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x maid!reader #maid!reader #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes x y/n #Mr. Holmes Maid (2)

376 notes · View notes

manias-wordcount · 2 months ago

Note

^_^ could i req a fic where spike speculates reader is pregnant because of some very *very* obvious signs, but reader doesnt fully realize it yet so she's just confused on why spike's acting so different

Growing Questions (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗜 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗯𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗰𝘆 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗯𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆'𝗿𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗮 𝗯𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮 𝗼𝗯𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂. 𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @dogsandrocketsocks @pittbull-enthusiast @asuperconfusedgirl @rendartgrimson @abellaheart-blog @skylardarling @sachimz @roronoaism

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!! 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝘂𝗻𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

It wasn’t like the two of you were really trying for it to happen, per se. But…

At some point, he had stopped wearing condoms. And sometime after that, you had casually mentioned something about not wanting to go through the hassle of renewing your birth control because life on the Bebop doesn’t really offer its residents the most stable address to give doctors when going in for their usual healthcare visits. So you stopped taking them. And eventually, he even stopped pulling out too- much to your delight, he rather quickly found out.

So in truth, he’s not stupid. He knew the consequences of playing with fire. He knew the odds of it happening, even if you both had been particularly lucky for the better half of a year. And besides, it’s been a conversation between the two of you a few times already. What you would do if you had kids? Do you even want kids ever? Would you continue being a bounty hunter or would you leave that life behind? What names for a boy? What names for a girl?

So many questions. So many thoughts and hypotheticals were entertained. So, so many that he thought the two of you had covered all the bare necessities at the very least. He thought the two of you were on the same page. He thought the two of you knew exactly how the other would feel in this situation. He thought the two of you knew exactly how to happen in those early moments of figuring things out together. But…

Now that he thinks you’re pregnant but you haven’t said anything, he’s not really sure what to do anymore.

“Spike?”

He hears the mumble of his name fall from your sleepy lips, and instantly he’s tugging you closer to his body and pressing a chaste kiss to the space behind your ear. The soft giggle you let out as his lips make contact with your skin is reaffirming to him. But then again, so is just about everything else you did with him today.

The two of you have been spooning in his room for hours now. He found you cuddled up under his sheets right as he returned from a light night job. Though to him, it was no surprise. You had been a little more clingy lately. A little bit moody too. And that’s usually something he didn’t handle well. He was never the most sensitive soul. But Faye pointed out to him a couple weeks ago how you have been acting a little different lately. Little things like being tired out more easily and having to take naps more often throughout the day. Little things like you suddenly being a bit more sensitive about changes in your body that you usually wouldn’t mind. But all of sudden, your favorite bras are your worst enemies because you don’t want anything or anyone- not even him- to touch your boobs anymore. And all of sudden, a little bit of bloating is the end of the world for you, even if it just ends up being the perfect excuse for you to throw on one of his oversized t-shirts and call it a day.

And even some “not-so” little things have cropped up and caused some alarm. Like you throwing up whatever you ate last night nearly every single morning. And the fact that you so suddenly seem to not be able to stand some of the things you used to love. And even the big one: you missed your period by a good couple of weeks at least. And didn't say a damn thing about it.

But as Faye pointed out, you seemed mostly fine with others. And they were just a few little things.

A few little things that all pointed to you being pregnant.

So when he entered his room, all tired and cranky from a bounty made way hard for the price it was worth, he didn’t bother thinking twice about crawling into bed right behind you. He just slung an arm around your waist and placed a hand underneath your night shirt and against your stomach- just in case- and held you while you both slept.

For most of the day, the two of you only left the bed long enough to get something to eat or use the bathroom (which “strangely” involved him standing behind you and holding back your hair while you puked your guts out during the early morning hours). But otherwise, you had been so sweet and soft with him that it’s hard to imagine that you’re holding this a secret from him. But you gotta be, right?

Right?

“What is it, princess?” He murmurs back to you, being careful not to raise his voice too loud in such a serene moment. He had learned the hard way how much you did not like that with the way you began to pout and get grumpy at him when he didn’t whisper while answering one of your questions from earlier.

You didn’t answer for a good bit. And after a moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if you had fallen back asleep before you got to ask your question. It’s not the first time you’ve done that. But you’re doing it so much more often lately that he feels like it’s just another sign. But out of the blue, you took a deep breath through your nose. And a second later, you made a noise of disgust. One so prominent and clear that he could already picture your scrunched-up nose and the sour face you were pulling.

“Is Jet making Bell Peppers and Beef again?” You whined, wiggling around in his grip. At your action, he loosened his hold on you, but he’s careful not to let go of you fully. He couldn’t stand the face you gave him a couple of hours ago when he let go of you to roll onto his other side. But with your question, he feels like he’s just about to break your heart again. Because he already knows that Jet is making Bell Peppers and Beef. He was the one who had to pick up the peppers for today’s meal, after all. But as far as he knows, you haven’t left his side all day. So you shouldn’t have been able to tell what was on the menu for the day unless he told you. But he didn’t. He just didn’t.

“You can smell that from here?” He asks instead, and he’s met with a pitiful and weak sound coming from your lips. It’s adorable, really. And Faye mentioned being wary of a potentially heightened sense of smell. But the kitchen is pretty far away from where the two of you are at the moment…

“Can you tell Jet not to make that anymore?” You request, before scooching back into Spike and settling into his tight grip once more. You then took the covers the two of you were lying beneath and tugged them up a little higher, so they could cover up your nose. Something he knows for a fact that you didn’t used to do until recently.“I don’t like peppers! They just smell awful.”

“Really now? You used to like it plenty in the past.” He muses out loud. He tries to lay a bait for you. Something that would get you talking. Talking about things without even thinking about it. Talking about things you might have been trying to keep secret from him. “What’s changed?”

“Oh,” You respond dumbly, almost as if you were genuinely surprised by the thought of you ever enjoying that meal peacefully in the past. “Well, I don’t like it anymore.”

He frowns at your response. It’s not very helpful. But then again, he wasn’t really expecting it to be. Because part of him wants to think you’re being dishonest, as much as it pains him to admit it. Parts of him think you’re hiding the fact that you’re pregnant from him. At most, you could only be just a few weeks along. Not even out of the first trimester yet. But he keeps rationalizing to himself that this is a secret you’re holding from him. That this is a secret that you’re holding from him for a reason. Because you’re scared of his reaction. Because you don’t know how to tell him. Because you just don’t know how to handle and cope with this being real.

But at the same time, there’s another idea in his mind.

One that Faye planted. One that he really doesn’t want to believe because of the absurdity of it. But one that is getting harder and harder to deny with every passing interaction between the two of you.

The idea that you don’t actually know you’re pregnant yet.

It feels stupid. It feels possible. Because once someone opens his eyes to the possibility of you being pregnant, it’s all he could ever think about. The chances of it happening. All of the signs confirm it. It’s all he could think about. It’s all he obsessed over. So you can’t not know. You just can’t not know yet.

Can you?

#spike spiegel #spike spiegel x reader #cowboy bebop #cowboy bebop x reader #cowboy bebop fanfic #cowboy bebop fanfiction #x reader #xreader #fanfic #fanfiction

72 notes · View notes

axeoverblade · 1 year ago

Note

Ayo can I request a platonic 1610 miles x older fem reader. Like she acts like an older sister to him and she visits him in his dimension. Bonus if his parents love her.

Dynamic Duo

1610 Miles x Platonic fem! reader

Synopsis! Miles never really cared for having another sibling until he met you

MASTERLIST

Genre: fluff, just fluff.

Warnings: mentions of dead sibling, foul language

Word count: .7k

Authors comment: THIS WAS THE CUTEST THING EVER IM CRYING. Two posts about Miles in one cause why not? ENJOY <3

•when you first met Miles you two clicked immediately

•He reminded you of your late little brother

•even though it made you sad at first to be around Miles cause of the nostalgia of it, you grew extremely fond of him over time and vise versa

• Bad habit of calling him youngin and he gets SO PISSED

• “what’s good youngin” “I’m not even that young shut the hell up”

• would get in trouble often with Miguel because you two “weren’t using your watches properly”

•apparently traveling dimensions to have ice cream together was against the rules

•still did it anyway

• he tells his mom about his friend “who left town” who was like his big sister and indirectly how much he admired you

•he would never ever tell a soul he looked up to you even though it was very obvious

•like bro legit mimics half the things you do unconsciously

•You notice it but don’t say anything

• you are so unconsciously over protective

• like you sometimes forget he’s a spiderman too

• he does the most stupidest things to impress you like a younger sibling does

• “Hey y/n look!” *cue Miles hanging upside down from a bridge doing stupid dangerous poses* “Miles! Get the hell down before you kill yourself” “But ’s cool right?” “…that’s besides the point”

•INSIDE JOKES!!!!

•or just those understanding looks you two give each other when you both see something stupid

• randomly pop up in his dimension to surprise him

• you two swing around the city together for the fun of it

•He rants to you constantly about his home life, finally feels safe enough to speak about everything that’s going on and how he feels to someone

•calls you when he has anxiety attacks. even though he would never outright say he’s having them, you know

• call it big sister senses

• always change the subject to something you know calms him and suddenly he’s laughing telling you about something that happened a couple of days ago when he was on duty

•Makes you happy he has an outlet he feels safe talking to because you know he can't do that with anyone else.

•HE STEALS ALL YOUR THINGS

• “yah so then-is that my jacket?” “…noooo?” “Miles I swear I'll kill you that’s like the fifth one this month”

• Always wants to be around you

•like lil bro is always just around trying to hang out with you or go on your missions when he can cause he thinks it’s cool to see you in action

• he even copies your moves for when he fights villains

• You finally met his parents

• at first they were very skeptical of you but after seeing how you two interact they grow very fond of you

•asks you to visit more often and cook for you whenever you do come

•you three talk about Miles whenever you think he’s not listening (he is) and how proud you are

•both you and his parents get on his ass about random stupid things he does

•legit tag team him all the time and there’s nothing he can do

•you visit so much you have a little bag of things in his room for when you come over

• you have your own personal relationship with his parents. They see you as one of their own and you see them like a second pair of parents

• they have their own nickname for you

• you are so close they add you to the family gc

• you and Miles bicker all the time about the stupidest things

• “shut up that’s why I’m the favorite kid” “you’re not even their kid!” “Your just proving my point further”

•you act like a real siblings. Like you would give your kidney for him but if he asks to borrow your charger? Hell nah

• overall he genuinely loves you and really appreciates you and you can say for the same for him

•will always be there for each other just like real siblings because in a way, you two are and always will be

©axeoverblade

#spider man: across the spider verse #miles morales x reader #cute #miles x reader #miles x y/n #miles morales #miles x you #miles morales x y/n #miles platonic #platonic #spiderman into the spiderverse #atsv fic #spiderman atsv #atsv

953 notes · View notes

lauraneedstochill · 2 years ago

Text

I won’t fall for someone who can’t misbehave

summary: Aemond is betrothed to the sweetest girl in the Seven Kingdoms. She is smiley, soft and kind-hearted. Until she isn’t. (or, alternatively: “No one took your side when you were a kid. But I’m doing it now.”) pairing: Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader (her House is not specified) words: 9000 +

warnings: slow (!) burn, attempted harassment, Aemond is in pain 70% of the time (headache and all that) and has no clue how to act around someone he’s in love with. author's note: I’m working on 3 fics at the moment, and it’s taking forever to finish (yay for my poor time management skills!), so I whipped up something short(er). Rhaenyra is the queen here but I barely mention the blacks (not out of spite, I just thought it wouldn’t add anything to the story). also, I don’t think women would be allowed to misbehave like that... I don’t care ;)

Aemond knew of the preplanned betrothal even though everyone around him was ridiculously mysterious about the subject matter. He’s been made aware of the upcoming visit of some noble family, and the preparations were quite extensive. Then he overheard Baela telling Jace that the expected guests will bring their daughter. The middle one. It wasn’t very hard for Aemond to put two and two together. His wedding was long overdue, and Alicent was eager for him to make his choice. But he dreaded the mere thought of it.

Aemond’s never been very good at courting women, but mostly due to the lack of trying. He’s used to them looking at him with fear and suspicion as if he’s some kind of wild animal ready to attack at any minute. Getting sidelong glances did hurt him growing up, but with time Aemond learned to benefit from it, using his fearsome image as a shield. No one ever dared to try and break it to see what was underneath. But now he is faced with the inevitable change that’s approaching his life at the speed of a storm wave. To him, taking off the eyepatch won’t be nearly as excruciating as giving into the vulnerability of letting someone in, opening up to someone. He’s never been afraid of much but that? That was terrifying.

The anticipation made Aemond nervous. He knew he should probably ask around and try to gain any information about his soon-to-be wife, but it felt wrong. Not knowing felt even worse. No matter how good of a fighter he was, fighting the uncertainty seemed like a challenge. Aemond spent his nights tossing and turning, wrapped up in blankets as insomnia was clinging to his body. He tried to busy himself with training, but his usual easy victories brought him no satisfaction. He’s been winning for so long maybe it was time for him to lose. Except not to his training partners but to a stranger, who in time will get a permanent place in his life.

His rides with Vhagar, which usually brought him peace, now had the opposite effect. The old dragon acted annoyed and disgruntled for no reason, huffing and grumbling at every turn as if she could sense his own frustration. You can’t tame your emotions yet I’m supposed to listen to your commands? Silly boy. If Vhagar could speak, she would probably tell him that, Aemond thought. And he blamed himself even more.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, the headache came back. As usual, it started with a feeling of pounding heaviness in the back of his head, which then spread further: into his temples, forehead and down the hateful scar. Within a couple of days, the pain gets so bad, he has to grit his teeth to keep a straight face, and he's barely able to shove a few bits of food down his throat. But it’s a topic he never brings up, it’s a humiliating secret that’s just between him and his mother. When he lost his eye, for the first month the pain was close to unbearable. The maester kept telling him that it was caused by the healing of skin tissues and assured that the intolerable feeling would go away. It never did. His scar was something he learned to cover up, and the bright red stripe faded slightly with time, but the pain lingered. Aemond opted to think that it only contributed to him becoming more resilient, yet that argument didn’t withstand the test of time. The pain receded for some short periods, but then it would always come back, and he could never get used to that, no matter how hard he tried.

He can only hope it will get better by the time the guests arrive. But the gods seem deaf to his prayers, and the night before the event he doesn’t get a wink of sleep. He goes through his day in a daze, skipping the training session to hide in the library instead, although he can’t bring himself to focus and read more than a single page. When the time comes for him to walk into the dining hall, it’s the last thing he wants to do but he forces himself to go. Festive ornaments, tables laden with the finest dishes, bright-colored clothing of everyone around him blend and blur into each other. He takes deep breaths and counts his steps, gathering all his strength to sit down and not wince at the movement.

All it takes is one look at him for Alicent to understand what’s going on.

“Aemond,” she approaches him, whispering. “What’s wrong? Is it the headache again?”

Aemond doesn’t want to admit it, but he lacks the energy to deny it either so he just nods. She gives him a regretful look, gently squeezing his shoulder.

“Should I call for the maester? Maybe he will be able to come up with something to ease the pain.”

“I don’t think we have time to fuss over me,” he declines with a pain-stained voice. “I was under the impression that we’re expecting someone to join us today.”

Alicent sighs. She knows better than to fight his stubbornness, but she hates how helpless it makes her feel. Aemond hates that feeling, too.

“Please don’t tell me you require motivation,” Aegon’s voice is loud as it is but right now it sounds deafening, and Aemond sharply exhales. His brother flops on a nearby chair, bringing his ignorant attitude with him.

“Undoubtedly you’ve interacted with women before,” he chuckles, completely unaware of Aemond’s suffering. “Try not to scare her with your creepy stare, and maybe she won’t run away.”

Alicent briefly closes her eyes in annoyance. She glances around, making sure not to attract any attention, and then grabs Aegon by the chin, forcing him to look at her.

“Enough with pestering, I need you to behave yourself,” her voice is tinged with irritation. “Just for one evening. Can you do that?”

Aegon’s body stiffens up, the smug look disappearing from his face.

“As you wish, mother,” he mutters, and she lets go of him. Alicent shoots another glance at Aemond before leaving. Aegon gives his brother a side-eye but says nothing.

Aemond is exhausted, anxiety bubbling in his chest, and he thinks he has a few more minutes to compose himself yet that time passes in the blink of an eye. Before he knows it, the guards at the door make the announcement, and he sees a group of unfamiliar faces. None of them are of his age, though, and for a moment that realization brings him some comfort. But then he notices a female figure in the distance as she’s approaching the entrance.

When she walks in, the music goes quiet, and Aemond hears people gasping. It seems like every man in the room has his gaze on her. And she certainly is a sight for sore eyes. She moves with a gracious pace, the silky fabric of her dress flowing downward with every step. It’s not too revealing, but it hugs her body in all the right places. Her hair is up, and he can see the waves of her collarbones peaking through. A half-smile is plastered on her face, but she doesn’t seem to be nervous. If he was to take a guess, he would've said she was tired. But she won’t let it show, keeping her head high and being seemingly unaware of the attention she got. Maybe she’s used to it just like he is, Aemond thinks. Although people usually glare at him for a completely different reason.

“Someone is about to get a piece of cake,” Aegon elbows him lightly, his voice low.

“Someone needs to shut up,” Aemond snarls, earning a laugh from his brother. That catches her attention, and her gaze lands on Aemond. When their eyes meet, her face softens, smile growing wider. He tries his best to force a wan smile in return, but his stomach turns in discomfort. He can already imagine how people will react: a stunning woman like her with a man like him, what a tragedy. That thought stings, his anxiety growing stronger. The headache gets worse, and he tightens his grip on a cup of wine that he hasn’t even tasted yet. Aemond can’t help but wonder if she knew she would have to marry him. If it does bother her as much as it bothers him.

The members of her family are greeted as guests, with no mention of a possible betrothal. Her name is the only one he catches — and then silently repeats it a few times. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, the sound of it breaking through his clouded mind. She’s seated next to him, as expected, and he notes that her dress compliments her eye color. Aemond is thinking of a way to start a conversation, but she beats him to it:

“You gave us such a warm welcome, but I must admit, I am surprised by the scale of it. I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience?”

When her words reach his ears, the buzzing in his head stops, and Aemond turns to her, astonished by his own reaction. It’s not the naivety of her question, nor the friendly tone of it. It’s just her voice. Melodic and mellow, it feels soothing among the loud noises they’re surrounded with.

“I assure you, your family was simply welcomed with the respect you deserve,” he answers pensively. His throat is sore, but he can’t steel himself to take a sip of wine, afraid that it will make him sick. He wants her to speak again.

Aemond asks about her family, letting her lead the conversation. She is easy to talk to and she gives just the right amount of information before jumping to another topic. At any other time, he would’ve really enjoyed the flow of it, yet now he is growing weary. The headache is still there, but her voice does bring him some relief. That is until she abruptly stops.

“Are you feeling alright?” she sounds worried, and the same emotion is written on her face. Aemond tries to blink away his exhaustion.

“I apologize if I’m not exactly the best at keeping you company. It’s been a long day,” he knows he should’ve come up with a better excuse. He feels like he can hardly function at this point.

She keeps her attention on him for a few more seconds. Then she moves her eyes to the other end of the table, where her family is seated. She makes eye contact with her father and gives him a big yawn. It’s obviously and comically fake but it works: her family finds an excuse to leave earlier. Aemond knows that now he also got a chance to escape soon after. He feels a pang of guilt knowing that he’s the reason their conversation was cut short, but she doesn’t make a big deal out of it.

“We shall continue on the morrow when we are both well rested,” she smiles reassuringly at him before leaving.

Aemond seriously doubts that he’ll get any rest as his head feels like it’s gripped in an iron vise again. The next morning he drags himself out of bed later than usual, the pain now dull but present nonetheless. He sits with his face in his hands, breathing in and out, until he’s almost numb. The almost leaves a sour feeling in his mouth — or maybe it’s the nausea, he doesn’t know nor does he care. He’s been handling this for years, he can survive another day.

Aemond decides that since he is to be wed, he should make an effort for it to work. He thinks about his duty, his mother, about Y/N, who traveled all the way to King’s Landing for a man she’s never met before. Aemond thinks of everyone but himself because there’s only so much he can do without draining himself completely.

He missed the breakfast already but hopes to find Y/N within the perimeter of the castle and rushes out of the bedroom. He’s passing by Helaena’s chambers when he hears someone laughing. And it’s not his sister. Aemond debates if he can deal with kids right now, but chooses to give it a chance and quietly walks in. Helaena has embroidery in her hands but seems more focused on a sight in front of her, and he follows her gaze. Y/N is sitting on the floor with her back to the door, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera are on either side of her, their cheeks plump and pink, tiny fingers grabbing her dress. She’s reading to them, and it’s a tale they’ve heard many times before, yet the kids are listening attentively, occasionally making noises of excitement. Aemond doesn’t need to speak gibberish to know that they are fascinated by the melody of her voice and the playful tone she uses to make the story more engaging. He leans on the door frame, his body relaxing at the sound. Jaehaera puts her head on Y/N’s shoulder and eagerly turns the page, making her laugh again.

“You are an impatient little thing,” Y/N giggles.

“That she is,” Helaena agrees, and when Y/N turns to her, she is surprised to see that Aemond joined them.

“Pardon me, I didn’t hear you coming in,” she stands up in a hurry, both kids are instantly glued to her. “Your sister was kind enough to keep me company.”

“I asked her to come by after breakfast, and they haven’t left her side ever since,” Helaena explains, sounding very pleased.

“Would you mind if I steal this new friend of yours?” Aemond asks while keeping his eye on Y/N, waiting for her reaction. Her face flushes but he sees no indication of discontent. Aemond grudgingly admits to himself that it brings him something akin to joy. But it fades, absorbed by his numbness.

“Make sure to be on time for dinner,” his sister nods, calling for the nanny to take the kids.

It takes a little bit of persuasion but eventually Jaehaerys and Jaehaera let Y/N go, and she follows Aemond out of the room. She mentions that Helaena wanted to show her the library, and Aemond agrees to take her there. Along the way, he strikes up a conversation in attempt to compensate for their last one. As she’s telling him about her morning, her voice seeps into his mind like honey, and Aemond tries to concentrate to take the right turns and not trip on the stairs.

When they walk into the library, she pauses, looking around in awe. This woman makes men turn around after her, yet she is so easily impressed by the simplest things, Aemond thinks. The prince wonders if she can ever be impressed by him.

“This is where you study?” she is admiring endless rows of shelves, and Aemond gives her an affirmative “hmm”.

“How many of these have you read?”

“Quiet a few,” he is modest as ever, and she shoots him a curious look.

“I wonder what are your preferred subjects.”

“History and philosophy,” he doesn’t mean to sound so terse, but whatever interactions with women he’s had before, that experience obviously didn't turn him into a lady’s man.

“Would you be so kind to share your favorite books with me?” when she glances at him, there is a sparkle in her eyes. It looks like she’s actually interested to know more, as if she does want to know him. His immediate response, however, is to distance himself, and he takes a step back.

“I am afraid there are not enough hours in the day to name them all,” Aemond opposes, hands clasped behind his back.

“Please, take pity on me, I need something to help me pass the time,” she presses the matter further but does so very gently. “Name just a couple.”

He gives into her pleading tone and reluctantly agrees but they don’t stop at just a couple. They end up spending the day roaming in the library, lost in the labyrinth of shelves and books. She’s never too pushy with her questions, she’s making small jokes, she doesn't take offense at his cold demeanor. Behind his mask of feigned indifference, Aemond feels like someone is hammering at his left temple, and the pain echoes through his whole body. But he doesn’t dare to leave her hanging for the second day in a row.

The prince is too preoccupied with his internal struggle to notice that she's growing worried about him again, and by the time they come back for dinner, her face expresses an alarming concern.

“I must apologize if I tired you out with my relentless chatting,” she says, almost whispering, when they are seated.

“You did not, no need to fret,” Aemond states. I must apologize that you are to marry a man who can’t curb the pain that’s spilling out of him, he thinks.

Food is tasteless in his mouth. She is sitting on his right, and Aemond’s body can’t adjust to the foreign feeling of someone being in his close proximity. He is so accustomed to being on his own, he doesn't know how to unlearn that.

Throughout the whole dinner, Aemond can feel his mother’s gaze on him. Later that evening, when a maid brings him a cup filled with the milk of the poppy, he decides against taking it. He regrets it the very next day.

When Aemond tries to lift his head off the pillow, he feels like his skull is full of rocks. They’re rolling from side to side as the pain rumbles, and for a few minutes he can't hear anything else around him. That’s why, when Aemond opens his eye, he’s startled at the sight of his mother standing in the doorway.

“I did knock but got no response,” she gives him a look that’s a mix of concern and suspicion. She suspects that he’s unwell again and it concerns her. He wishes she never knew of that burden of his.

Aemond moves up in his bed, clenching his jaw. He knows his mother well enough to realize she must’ve had a reason for this early visit. Alicent proves him right when she speaks.

“The queen went into labor a couple of hours ago.”

He absentmindedly hums, not knowing how to react. His mother continues, with a hint of hesitance.

“There will be a feast when the baby is born. We thought... Rhaenyra and I, we thought it would also make for an occasion to do the announcement. About your betrothal.”

Her words come as no surprise to Aemond. It is what’s expected of him, it’s about his duty and his responsibilities, but this time he doesn’t want to think of that. He wants to be left alone, to drown in the layers of blankets, to go back to his short-lived slumber.

“The day Y/N arrived, I asked the queen to postpone the announcement. To give you some time to get to know each other,” Alicent takes a few steps towards his bed. “It seems like you’re getting along quite well?”

“I could think of no better woman than her,” Aemond admits and it is true. What he doesn’t say is that he can also think of a dozen other men who would be more deserving of her, more than he is.

Alicent catches the discreet sadness in his words but doesn’t know what caused it. She eyes her son with undisguised empathy.

“Her father implied that she is content with the betrothal, too. I thought you’d be happy to know,” Alicent gives him a lax smile. “I shall let you go back to sleep,” she adds and leaves.

Aemond knows he’ll get no sleep now. He repeats the well-known routine of deep breaths with the minimum movements, scraping up the remains of his strength before leaving the room. He goes straight to Y/N’s chambers, wondering if his mother visited her, too, and how that visit went.

To his surprise, she is nowhere to be found. A maid informs him that she left the room a few hours ago. He can’t find her in the library and she isn’t in Helaena’s chambers, either. He searches for her in the courtyard and then goes back to roam through the corridors, peering into every room on his way. He’s lost in his thoughts until he hears Y/N calling his name. Aemond turns around — and there she is, at the other end of the hall.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she skips towards the prince, beaming. He could never imagine anyone being this happy at the sight of him. She stops when they are only a couple of meters apart, her smile glowing.

“We must’ve passed each other, because I’ve been looking for you, too,” he confesses. She seems very pleased with herself though he isn’t sure why.

“I think the weather calls for a walk,” she blithely suggests. “Would you like to accompany me?” — as the words leave her mouth, she reaches out a hand to him. For a moment Aemond is looking at her baffled, and then hesitantly takes her hand. Her skin is soft, fingers warm, and she intertwines them with his own. That gesture comes so naturally as if they’ve done it before, yet Aemond clearly hasn’t. The feeling of holding someone’s hand is unusual to him. But it seems enjoyable.

By the time they get to the garden, Aemond finds that her hand fits perfectly in his. He is blushing profusely. He also notices that his headache receded a little and he can’t help but think that she was the reason for that.

“Your mother came to me this morning,” she informs him as they are walking hand in hand. “I assume she talked to you, too?”

“She did,” Aemond confirms. “Am I right to guess we had the same conversation?”

“Well, mine was about uniting two great Houses,” she mimics a man’s voice, and Aemond grasps that Otto was there as well. “Your grandfather gave a very convincing speech.”

“He had a lot of practice while being the Hand of the King. Maybe he misses having an audience,” the prince chuckles and she laughs.

Aemond holds a pause and then adds. “Forgive me if I’m being too blunt but I wonder if the conversation was of unpleasant nature to you.”

“It was not,” she slows her steps. “I know what’s expected of me and I will perform my duty. But if I’m being honest...,” she turns to him, and the tenderness of her gaze tugs at his heart. “I am glad that it’s you,” Aemond feels a flare of an unknown emotion deep in his chest. “We’ll make a pretty good team. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Aemond lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He looks down at their hands and then back at her.

“It seems so,” he tells her, a slight smile in the corner of his lips. There is a moment of comfortable silence as they make a short stop in the shade of the trees.

“But I shall give you a warning,” she says with a mischievous grin. “My siblings take any celebration very seriously. Every single relative of ours will come to the wedding, and most of them won’t shy away from enjoying a cup of wine... Or two.”

“Can any of them outdrink Aegon?” he jokes, and she bursts into laughter.

Aemond gets carried away by their conversation once again, losing track of time. While she’s listing her relatives, adding innocuous remarks about each of them, the prince is enthralled by the warmth that radiates off her. Her presence alone calms the storm of his insecurities, lulling his fears to sleep. She does that so effortlessly, it’s almost intimidating. But there’s a certain thrill to it, too — the thrill of being close to her, sharing laughs and stories, and Aemond clings to that feeling.

He enjoys the moment while it lasts; until his headache predictably creeps up on him a few hours later. He can��t tell if she senses that something is wrong but she’s the one to suggest returning to the castle. Aemond gladly accepts it.

On the way back they are greeted by one of the guards who notifies them that the queen gave birth to a girl. She lightly squeezes Aemond’s hand.

“Tomorrow is a big day then,” — and the prince knows exactly what she means. The fragile bond that they only started to get the hang of will soon become public knowledge. It won’t be their secret anymore but rather an over-discussed gossip.

“There is still time for you to plan an escape,” Aemond jests half-heartedly.

She looks puzzled for a second, but then shakes her head.

“Only if you’re planning one. We are in this together, remember?” her thumb brushes over his. “It’s all about teamwork.”

Aemond savors the last fleeting minutes of their day. He barely touches the food at dinner, the pain in his head intensifying but he pushes through. When the time comes for them to part, he doesn’t want to. That feeling is alien to him and the prince is clueless about its nature. But he knows that with her any misery will be bearable.

When Aemond walks into his chambers, he notices a little jar on the bed table. It’s the one that the maester used to bring him the ointments in, and the prince sighs. The maester doesn’t grasp the extent of the problem but occasionally would suggest a thing or two to help with the pain. They’ve tried using cold packs, then the warm ones, tried massaging his temples, then drinking cinnamon tea, then adding some ginger that’s known as a remedy for reducing inflammation... Nothing has worked so far.

But he should make an effort.

Aemond barely glances inside the jar and tosses away a piece of paper with the instructions scribbled on it. The prince already knows it all too well: he applies a thick layer of whatever that concoction is on his scar, involuntarily wincing at the cooling sensation. It smells of herbs and feels oily but absorbs into the skin pretty fast.

For some reason, his mind goes back to his mother’s words — “I thought you'd be happy to know.” Aemond is unsure what happiness means. The happiest day of his life is forever chained with the worst one, smeared with blood and pain that he's been carrying through the years.

But now that he met Y/N, he questions if there’s more to life than what he's been through so far.

While he is laying in bed, Aemond wonders if can consider her his friend. If she will ever be more than just a friend to him.

And then, before he knows it, the prince is fast asleep. He wakes up feeling like a new man. At first, he mistakes that feeling for the remnants of his dreams that he was enveloped with at night. He shakes off his drowsiness and looks at the ceiling, catching a glint of sunlight that seeped through the curtains. That's when Aemond realizes that the pain is gone.

He sits up, bewildered, waiting for any sign of discomfort yet nothing happens. He waits for a couple of minutes — and then for up to thirty, but his head is clear and doesn’t ache at all. His eye shifts to the jar on the bed table, and Aemond makes a note to extend his gratitude to the maester later. Suddenly the upcoming festivities don't seem so torturous anymore.

He doesn’t get a chance to see her throughout the day as everyone is preparing for the feast. When Aemond walks into the hall of the Iron Throne, he takes in the decorated surroundings. Unlike the last time he was here, now he wants to remember every detail, knowing that this evening would be of great importance.

The room fills with people, but Aemond patiently waits for her alone. He spots her the second she steps in. Her dress is violet, the material bright and luminous, and it puts her into the spotlight yet again since she's the only one wearing that color. As soon as she takes her place at the table next to Aemond, her hand finds his. He's getting used to that way too fast. It’s hard not to.

The first round of toasts goes to honor Visenya, the newborn daughter of the Queen. Rhaenyra willingly tolerates the sweet talk, generous with her smiles and appreciation. At some point, when the timing seems right or maybe when her cheeks are already aching, she gives a nod to Alicent, and Aemond knows what it means. As she starts her speech, he ruefully releases Y/N’s hand.

But right when they are standing up, with everyone around cheering and staring, she lightly presses her body against his, and Aemond feels how tense her back is. That’s when it dawns on him that she’s well aware of the attention but she doesn’t really like it. Instinctively, he puts his fingers on her waist, his touch respectful and delicate. She breathes out and briefly rests the back of her head against his shoulder. For a moment it feels like it’s just the two of them.

That feeling doesn't go away.

Usually, he’s not the one to take part in dancing, but he does so for her. Aemond feels out of practice and he can’t tell if that's what makes his head spin or if he’s getting tipsy from the intimacy of their dance. Her moves are elegant, well-rehearsed, her body follows the rhythm of the music with ease. He doesn’t remember when was the last time that silly activity brought him so much elation. Did it ever?

Time flows by in a blur, and they eventually take a pause after going into a fit of giggles at the sight of Lord Velaryon trying to improvise a move and failing, only to amuse his loving wife. Y/N suggests going out for a while and Aemond is keen on following her but then his mother catches up to them, her hand and her gaze are on him in an instant, pulling him away.

“Aemond, you’ve been dancing,” she can’t hide her bewilderment, a timid smile on her face.

“Should I not? Seems like a suitable occasion,” Aemond chaffs with a tilt of his head.

“It is, indeed,” she doesn’t let him go just yet, and he discerns the hidden meaning of her words, the apprehension she fails to conceal. Aemond wants to grant her some respite, at least for the rest of the day, so he tells her with plain-spoken sincerity:

“I can assure you, this isn’t a cause for your distress.”

But then he quickly finds a cause for his when he doesn’t see Y/N around. He goes searching for her in the crowd, then leaves the room altogether, coming out into the hallway.

Aemond hears her before he sees her — and she isn’t alone. It takes no effort to recognize the second voice, which belongs to no other than Jason Lannister. As the prince rounds the corner, they come into sight, and Aemond has a very bad feeling.

He missed the start of their dialogue, and the look on her face is unreadable. She’s oblivious to Aemond’s presence and he decides to watch them. He tells himself that he’ll never allow her to get into trouble. There is something very tempting in having a chance to save her from anything; as if he feels the need to prove himself to her. He tries not to entertain that thought.

“... It’s not too late to change that, don’t you think,” Ser Lannister purrs, his tone sickly sweet but arrogant.

“It is. Which I have no regrets about, ser,” when she talks to him there's not a hint of friendliness in her voice.

“Your approach may be short-sighted. The proposition of mine wasn’t of a frivolous kind,” he’s circling her, the manner of his movement is borderline predatory.

“I believe you will soon find a lady to welcome your advances but I would very much prefer to drop this conversation,” she recapitulates.

Aemond tenses up, feeling like this is the moment for him to step in. Then he looks at her and realizes that something is off. Her face expression changes — but it’s not a look of fear. By the rising of her chest, he detects that her breathing sped up, eyes are shooting daggers at the man in front of her. She’s looking, for the lack of a better word, positively furious.

But Ser Lannister, apparently, is not very good at reading signs as he comes improperly close to her.

“I can be very persuasive,” his fingers fall on her back — and then go lower. “I think you should appreciate the attention while I’m this generous and...”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. In about two seconds his face is suddenly slammed into the nearby wall, the hand he put on her is now twisted behind his back. Y/N uses her free hand to push right between his shoulder blades, pressing him into the stony surface.

To say that Aemond is shocked would be an understatement.

Right at this moment, she looks like a different person. This side of her he’s not acquainted with but it only adds to her appeal. The change is barely perceptible: she’s still maintaining her posture, keeping up the face of a woman who knows her worth. But Aemond catches a flaming spark of defiance that threatens to shutter her restraint. He can sense her anger from far away despite her doing her best to contain it.

“I do not know what kind of attention you are used to, but you’re forgetting your manners. Next time you dare lay your hand on me, I will not hesitate to break it,” her voice doesn’t lose its usual softness, but now has an added layer to it. It sounds sharper, bolder. It sounds like she’s not afraid of anything.

She lets Ser Lannister go, taking a few steps back and smoothing her dress. He is frozen at first, but then slowly turns to her.

“You didn’t... You did not just do that,” there’s a visible red mark on his cheek that will undoubtedly turn into a bruise.

“Did what, ser?” her tone is laced with coldness.

The man looks at her in disbelief, his face is a parade of emotions — from shock to annoyance to anger.

“You will not get away with this,” he scowls, nettled.

“You are telling me that you’re considering letting everyone know you were overpowered by a woman? Sounds hard to believe,” she seems unfazed.

His mouth opens and closes a few times before he roars:

“You, insidious wre—!”

This time Aemond is the one to interrupt the man. “I suggest you watch your tone when speaking to my betrothed.”

She flinches at his voice, turning to face him, and Aemond slackens his pace a little.

“Shouldn’t she watch hers? She’s talking to a lord,” Ser Lannister exclaims lamely, his arrogance instantly toned down a notch.

“And I see no wrongdoing on her part. Care to explain what got you into this situation?”

“It was a... a simple misunderstanding,” his excuse is so pathetic that it makes the prince sneer.

“And what was the matter in question?” Aemond comes closer to the man which makes ser Lannister evidently uncomfortable. He carefully contemplates his next move.

“I only wanted to extend my congratulations on her betrothal,” the man fakes a smile. “Mayhaps I expressed myself poorly.”

“You should opt to choose your words more wisely next time,” Aemond looks down on him. “Perhaps you are needed somewhere else?”

“I shall rejoin the celebration then,” ser Lannister eagerly agrees and bows out way too quickly.

Aemond can barely wait for the man to get out of sight before turning to her. Even though the prince witnessed the whole thing, he can’t stop himself from asking:

“Did he harm you?”

“He didn’t get a chance,” she mumbles, avoiding his gaze. She looks so embarrassed, he wants to offer her some comfort but isn’t sure how.

"Dare I say we’ve got enough interactions for one evening?" Aemond tries to lighten the mood yet she only offers him a half-hearted smile.

“I will escort you to your chambers,” the prince suggests, and before she can argue he adds, “I know you can stand up for yourself if needed. But I insist.”

She doesn’t move an inch.

“...You are not mad at me?” she’s looking at him with doe-eyed sincerity, clearly upset. Aemond is mad at himself.

“I am thinking about cutting his arm off,” he says under his breath, but she catches it.

“Aemond, there’s no need!” she gasps and he sees a glimpse of a smile on her lips.

“I will have to disagree,” he starts but then she grasps his elbow and Aemond’s hand — finally — clings to her again.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me,” she confesses.

“And I don’t want you to get hurt,” his fingers caress her arm through the lace material. Her cheeks heat up and Aemond finds it adorable.

“I think I... I was the one who did some damage,” she complains.

“You must imagine my surprise,” Aemond drawls, teasing.

“Oh, Gods,” a quiet groan leaves her mouth. “That was not very ladylike of me.”

She covers her face with the other hand, her grip on his arm loosening. Aemond dithers before gently brushing her palm away from her face.

“You did the right thing and you have nothing to be ashamed of,” he enunciates each word. “He only sets an example of unseemly behavior.”

“I’m afraid I wasn’t too far off,” she remarks, her voice relenting.

“Hmm, you are certainly not to be truffled with,” he retorts, earning a faint laugh from her as they start walking, arm in arm.

“May I inquire how did you... master that very handy skill?” Aemond ventures to ask. That image of her — brave and unapologetic in her anger — will be forever engraved in his memory. Aemond is apprehensive about voicing his curiosity, uncertain of her reaction but when she answers:

“My father taught me that,” her tone is surprisingly impish.

“And how did you manage to talk him into it?”

“Talking didn’t help much, actually,” she grins. “And then I broke my brother’s nose and my father decided he should find a way to guide my enthusiasm.”

“How old were you?”

“Nine,” she looks so satisfied with herself, Aemond can’t hold back a small laugh.

She joins him and they fall into the comfort of each other’s company. But then her smile wilts.

“There was a time when I was the youngest child and my siblings... They weren’t very nice back then,” she blurts out. Aemond feels his heart sinking.

“What did they do?”

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad, honestly, they were only teasing. It’s just um,” she’s looking for the right words or maybe for an acceptable explanation, but there isn’t any. “It was very tiresome mostly. I could never understand the reason for them being mean.”

Aemond is yet to tell her the story of him losing his eye, and the memory pops back into his head in a flash. He knows exactly what she feels, his own sense of helplessness fresh in his memory. And it still stings the same, and Aemond loathes that.

While he revisits the past, unwillingly slowing his pace, she spots the change in his demeanor within seconds. She sees his facial features congealing, his fingers clenching, and she comes to the only conclusion she can make.

“Is it the headache?” her voice is suddenly quiet, and Aemond comes to an abrupt stop. The question catches him off guard, words stuck in his throat and his mouth agape. He doesn’t know how to react nor does he understand how could she possibly know that.

She is quick to clear up his confusion. “I noticed not long after we met and then your mother confirmed my suspicions. I am sorry that I didn’t ask you directly, I thought... I didn't want to sound intrusive,” she explains coyly.

“By asking about my health?” he finds his voice again. “I am to become your husband, you are free to ask such questions.”

“We’ve only known each other for about a day back then. Surely, you’re allowed to take more time than that to open up to someone,” she kindly points out.

A day. Up until now the only person who’s known about his pain was his mother, and for years no one else ever questioned his well-being. And it took her a day to notice that something was wrong.

“Did the ointment help?” she asks hopefully. For a second he thinks he heard her wrong but the shadow of concern on her face tells him otherwise.

“That was your doing?” he can’t hide his amazement, and it elicits a laugh from her, sonorous and dulcet. Aemond likes the sound of it, he really does.

“I’ve been fortunate to obtain the knowledge required,” she informs him.

“And what kind of witchcraft is it?”

“It is not,” she playfully elbows him. “It was something my grandsire taught me. He used to have an ache of a similar nature. No one could understand the cause of it, and it only got worse with age. But my grandmother refused to sit idly by and one day she found a way to ease his pain,” she has a dreamy expression on her face but it melts into a wistful one. He guesses that both of her grandparents passed away.

“After her death, he wouldn’t let anyone help him. It took me months to persuade him and eventually he let me on her secret,” her smile is bittersweet. “Then he died, and I never thought the recipe would come in handy ever again.”

Aemond hates seeing her wallow in sadness. He puts his palm on top of her hand in an attempt to offer some consolation. If there was a way to free her of that grief, to take at least some of it upon himself, he would’ve done it in a heartbeat. But his touch is enough to bring back the cheerfulness in her voice.

“I should mention that your maester did help, too, although he was reluctant at first,” she reveals.

"And I presume that it also took some convincing?" Aemond thinks of the maester’s face that always looks like he is surrounded by imbeciles.

“I shamelessly boosted his ego,” she wrinkles her nose. “Told him there was no way anyone would ever be as skilled as he is, and that my attempt was merely a gesture of goodwill.”

“But it wasn’t just that,” Aemond cordially protests.

They already reached her chambers but he doesn’t want to let go of her hand. He wants to tell her that meeting her was like taking a breath of fresh air after being held underwater, like finding a source of light in the pitch darkness of the night or feeling the warmth in the dead of winter. Aemond wants her to know that she’s been a saving grace for him, but he’s somehow at a loss for words, his thoughts jumbling together.

“It was way more than that and I...,” never in his life had he gotten this tongue-tied and flustered. Yet she treats him with the same kindness and with no sign of prejudice, listening closely and keeping her eyes on him. Her gaze is disarming enough to make him say the first thing that comes to mind.

“I must admit, you exceeded my expectations,” Aemond breathes out.

It immediately feels like the worst, the dullest choice of words possible, and he wants to sink into the ground right this second. But then he sees her natural smile, genuine and bright, blossoming on her face again.

“I am glad to be of service, my prince,” she murmurs the last part, and his heart skips a bit.

He didn’t register the moment she came a bit closer, but she isn’t shying away from shortening the distance. There’s something enamoring about her trusting nature but that’s not what draws him in. For the first time, he experiences an unfamiliar feeling that tightens his chest, makes his breathing rapid. His gaze slips over her face, down from her radiant eyes to her smile, framed by the lips that look as soft as freshly bloomed flowers. The feeling melts into an urge — he only needs to take a step, to lean his head forward just a bit and...

Aemond inhales deeply. He thinks they are in no rush, he thinks it would’ve been disrespectful and naive. He’s mostly afraid to misread the situation, to scare her away.

But he wants to make his intentions clear. Aemond runs his thumb over her knuckles, brushing them one by one. And then he takes her hand to his lips, planting a kiss on it. He allows himself just this flicker of bravery before straightening up and releasing her hand. When he looks at her, her gaze is directed at him already. It feels like a particular question is hanging in the air; they let it dissolve for now.

“I shall bid you goodnight,” her eyes linger on him for a second before she turns away.

As Aemond watches her go, he is certain he wants them to be more than just friends. Lucerys’s name day comes in a about month, and by that time Aemond’s routine has changed drastically. It might look the same: he wakes up with the sun, flies with Vhagar, he trains regularly, he spends his free time reading — except now Y/N is a part of his every activity.

She’s never nosy or clingy; he is the one seeking her company at all times. She’s an early riser, too, and they are always the first ones at the breakfast table: he asks her about her dreams, they make plans, they poke fun at Aegon, who is perpetually sleepy, and she can effortlessly hold any other conversation with his family which only makes him ever so pleased.

She watches him train with genuine curiosity, she never looks away nor flinches, even when he gets too competitive and rough. Her attention is flattering — and it’s all on him, and it feels unusual at first, but becomes empowering and he bathes in it.

When he takes her to meet Vhagar, she is terribly nervous. Aemond jokes that meeting his old dragon will pose no challenge after she handled Ser Lannister. It gives her enough confidence to pat Vhagar’s snout as the beast observes her calmly. Aemond assures her that the dragon will never go against his wishes. What he wants to say is that Vhagar senses how he feels about her.

They spend evenings in the library, both absorbed in reading but always sitting close by, their arms and shoulders coming into contact more often than not. He sometimes can’t help but get distracted which leads to him forgetting about his book, instead secretly watching her, his glance full of adoration.

For a while, he’s oblivious to how inseparable they’ve become until Helaena tells him one day, while Y/N is playing with Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in his sister’s chambers. When Helaena mentions it ever so nonchalantly — “You two seem joined at the hip!”, it startles him. But that moment doesn’t turn into an awkward one — instead, Aemond realizes that he's not scared anymore.

“I will steal her away from time to time,” Helaena says, as cheery as ever.

“Bold of you to assume I will let you,” he chuckles, his gaze not leaving his betrothed.

“I think she’ll have the last word,” his sister retorts with a cunning smile.

Aemond doesn’t think twice before admitting. “She will never say no.”

“My point exactly.” The Queen plans a great hunt to celebrate her secondborn son, and a feast is being held in no time. Aemond detests those pompous events yet Y/N seems too enthusiastic about the idea, and he begrudgingly agrees to participate. He has no wish to burden her with his weighted resentment toward Luke but, as usual, she sees right through him. She asks him if he has any reservations about the upcoming celebration, and that’s when he decides to tell her. Aemond doesn’t want her to pity him nor does he want to upset her so he keeps the story brief: he claimed the dragon, his siblings didn’t like it, things escalated way too quickly and they haven’t been on good terms ever since.

She heeds his every word, then bluntly asks. “Must you really go?”

He ponders before answering with a sigh. “It would be rude not to. I should pay my respect.”

“I wish he had the courtesy to do the same for you,” she frowns.

“It would be a little too late for an apology,” Aemond shrugs even though her caring tone moves him deeply.

“I still think you deserve one,” she says like it’s the most obvious, logical thing in the world. He wonders how obvious the reddening of his cheeks is.

“I do not wish to dwell in the past when so many great things lay ahead of me,” and he only means her. Having a future with her is his greatest blessing.

She bestows him with her softest smile. “I guess we should make the best out of the situation we are in. Maybe you will have some fun hunting.” Aemond doesn’t know what was her definition of fun, but his definitely doesn’t involve babysitting Aegon. Yet that’s what he ends up doing as they get separated from the group of hunters and his brother gets so drunk, he can barely stay in the saddle. He babbles and whines and Aemond is on the verge of praying for a miracle when the two of them finally stumble upon a boar. The younger prince catches the animal without a struggle.

“Oh, must be good to be a boar. Wild and free!” Aegon grumbles on their way back to the camp.

“I just slit his throat. I doubt you would want to switch places with him.”

“I didn’t say I want to switch places,” he shakes his head so vigorously, he almost falls down. Aemond moves his horse closer, grabbing Aegon by the shoulder to steady him.

“Although switching places with you sounds tempting,” he sneers.

“And why would you ever want that?” Aemond raised his brow questioningly.

“You got yourself a pretty wife-to-be,” Aegon chants and whistles.

“Are you asking for me to tie you to that boar? That can be arranged,” Aemond deadpans.

“ 'tis won’t be necessary,” Aegon's quick to object. “Whatever she sees in you, those qualities are not in my possession,” his frown turns into a grin and he winks at his brother.

Aemond lightly chuckles. “You’ll get no argument from me.” Leaving her is not an easy task for Aemond but coming back to her might be the second-best thing in the entire world. And the first one, obviously, is being with her.

When they return to the camp, he helps Aegon down, impatiently looking around, and as his eye lands on her, his breathing hitches.

She’s standing next to the hunting tent, surrounded by a group of ladies, Helaena by her side and they’re both laughing as his sister unsuccessfully tries to finish her sentence. Y/N has a violet in her hair, strands of it falling down her shoulders, her smile bright against the fading evening sun. She helps Helaena to articulate whatever she's talking about, the ladies around them cackling.

Aemond admires his betrothed from afar, savoring the moment.

It amuses him that her softness is a choice, that she chooses to be open-minded and kind, even though the world around her is armed to the teeth, and she does know how to fight back. And yet, that’s not what motivates her. Instead, she’s an image of benevolence and generosity, always understanding and forgiving, hence why people are so naturally drawn to her. And he is no exception.

Aemond gets distracted when a couple of servants approach him and he instructs them to take the boar’s carcass away.

“You had a successful hunt, dear prince,” when Aemond hears the question, he rolls his eye. Turning around, he sees Tyland Lannister with a smile so forged his face might crack in half.

“As usual,” Aemond answers indifferently. “Never took you for a hunter.”

“I cannot appreciate cruelty,” Lannister forces out. “And I am afraid I will not be able to negotiate my way out of a bear’s grip. So I am here merely to control my brother’s primal impulses.”

The mentioning of Jason makes Aemond cautious.

“Developing some self-control may be beneficial for him,” the prince mutters.

Tyland goes blanch white, taking the hint. “I was wondering if I should address the delicate issue of my brother’s sympathy toward your—”

“You should not,” Aemond cuts him off. “Would be better to address his manners but it’s the thing you must sort out amongst yourselves,” with that, he turns away to find Y/N again.

Except she isn’t there.

The ladies moved closer to the tent but she and Helaena are the only ones missing. It takes him a second to realize that the women look alarmed, glancing at the tent. Or rather inside of it.

Aemond all but runs there, going over the worst scenarios in his head. When he gets in and sees Y/N in the company of Ser Lannister, he thinks he’s never been angrier in his life. If Aemond was a dragon, the lord would’ve been burned to a pulp as of right now.

Jason keeps his distance and his face expresses nothing but regret yet it looks like it’s already too late as she is glaring at him with a sharp glint in her eyes. And in the next moment, she loses her temper.

“...What am I missing exactly?” she asks Jason, her voice unexpectedly loud, and it draws the attention of some nearby men. She doesn’t care.

“You’ve been eager to win me over, but I am yet to find a single reason why would any woman find your company endearing,” she takes a step toward the lord and he shrivels under the weight of her words.

“Is it the winery that your servants built for you? Is it your herd of fine horses? You talk so much about your stable, one may think your betrothed is to marry a stallion,” her smile is mirthless. Aemond hears a faint groan behind his back and recognizes Tyland’s scared tone.

“But what are your accomplishments?” the tent gets deadly quiet as she continues. “Do you consider your persevering courtship to be one of them? Or your harassing of my parents, my relatives and even my maids with your never-ending propositions, no matter how many times were they all rejected? Or mayhaps ambushing me in the hallway counts as an achievement for you?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Aemond sees Helaena and Aegon, both looking stunned. Pretty much everyone around him has the same expression at the sight of Y/N. The prince, on the other hand, has never been more proud of anyone.

She looks at Jason as if she wants to bore a hole in him, her voice getting lower but harsher.

“You want to know what prince Aemond did? None of the above.”

Aemond feels his heart freeze at the mention of his name. She is yet to see him but when she speaks, it feels like she’s seen enough.

“The man I am about to marry has been nothing but kind, respectful and loving, fulfilling my every wish, granting me the comfort of his company and his loyalty. The man with the sharpest mind and the kindest heart — both of which you’re clearly lacking,” she casts Jason a disdainful glance. “So from where I am standing, it looks like I’m the luckiest woman in the Seven Kingdoms.”

When she feels a hand on her waist, she isn’t surprised and welcomes the touch with no hesitation, knowing full well who is standing beside her. She swiftly turns to Aemond, their eyes locking.

“I would like it if we left earlier, my prince.”

“As you wish,” Aemond wishes he could marry her right now.

Disregarding everyone’s attention, he leads her out and asks the coachman to fetch their carriage. When they are away from prying eyes, her confidence wavers a little. It only fuels Aemond’s ire.

“Give me just a second,” he can’t help himself.

Aemond goes back to the tent — and right to the Lannisters, one of them is already scolding the other. Tyland stops his lecturing when he notices Aemond, but the prince doesn’t let him make a sound.

“That was the second time your brother couldn’t hold his tongue,” Aemond ignores Jason and walks up close to the other man. “If you care about his well-being in the slightest, make sure there will be no third time.”

“Aemond, let us not make another scene. You must think how that will look like...”

Aemond stares Tyland dead in the eyes and promises:

“I will gut him like a boar. Imagine how that will look like.”

Without saying another word, the prince storms off.

Y/N already got into the carriage, fidgeting with the hem of the dress as she falls deep into her thoughts.

“Ser Lannister will not bother you anymore,” Aemond says, sitting next to her.

“I sure hope so,” she mumbles, looking down at the wrinkled fabric.

“Whatever he said, you should not let it get to you. I do appreciate the gesture,” way more than he cares to admit, “but there’s no need to go through the trouble of standing up for me,” Aemond barely finishes the sentence when she retorts:

“I will.”

She looks at him, her eyes burning with blazing certainty.

“No one took your side when you were a kid. But I’m doing it now,” she states as her palm covers his, the touch is as warming as her glance.

Aemond thinks he is the luckiest man in the Seven Kingdoms. He runs out of luck so fast, he must’ve jinxed it. They are nearing the castle when the pain on the back of his head stings so unexpectedly, he winces, his eyebrows furrowing. She notices it immediately and insists he should take a rest when they arrive.

“Mayhaps you have some of the ointment left?” she wonders, leading him to his chambers. Aemond rarely allows people to coddle him but he accepts her care freely. He is also aware that the near-miraculous balm that she makes is long gone because he hasn't had a headache in a while.

When she finds out, she looks devastated.

“It must steep for a few hours, I can’t make it right away,” her enthusiasm brittles. She glances at him in a dither, mulling over something, while he lights the fireplace.

“There is another way that I know of,” she slowly suggests. “But you will need to lie down."

“Quite a vulnerable position you want to put me in,” Aemond lightheartedly jests but brings himself at her disposal with no second thoughts.

She sits on his bed right next to him, the bend of her hips an inch away from his arm.

“Close your eye,” she asks calmly and he obliges.

Aemond senses that she leans over him and he struggles not to hold his breath at the realization of how close she is. Then he feels the tips of her fingers on his face, the touch is so light and gentle, it makes him shiver. The pattern of her movements first contours his face, then goes up to his forehead, then slowly glides onto his temples. She massages them delicately in a circular motion.

“It was probably all the noise that caused this,” she presumes.

“Or maybe the fact that the man makes my blood boil,” Aemond says, although his anger is completely gone by now.

“He is pissed I didn't choose him,” she laughs quietly.

“Choose him?” her words peak his interest. “You had a choice in the matter?”

“My father said he would hate it if I marry someone I didn’t like,” her thumbs are following the lines of his cheekbones, then run under his chin, then all the way up to his hairline, right next to his ears.

“May I ask what was your decision process?” Aemond selects his words very carefully. What he really wants to ask is why would anyone pick him, out of all people.

“I’ve heard you claimed the biggest dragon in the world at the age of ten,” he can’t see her smile but he can hear it. “That was impressive enough.”

Aemond takes a peek at her through his lashes. “That can’t be the only thing you’ve heard.”

“I can distinguish valuable information from pointless rumors,” she notes imperturbably.

“I bet those rumors included the stories of me being the scariest man in the realm...”

Her fingers cover his mouth and he stumbles.

“I decided I would be the judge of that,” she says firmly.

“And what is your verdict?” he can't stop himself from asking, his pulse speeding up.

She doesn’t think for a second.

“All the people who were spreading those vile tales clearly have never met you. There isn’t a single bad thing I can think of when it comes to you.”

Aemond shouldn’t take it to heart but that’s precisely where it hits, her voice cracking his shield, her eyes telling him she will never regret knowing him, caring for him. He thinks this is what true happiness is — being with someone who will choose you every time.

Her fingers graze over the strip of his eyepatch and she pauses her movement. She isn’t breaking eye contact, waiting for his reaction, for his permission or refusal. Aemond gulps, helpless under her gaze, and doesn't stop her.

She picks up the leather strip slowly, as if she wants to give him a chance to change his mind. Aemond watches her, his body still, heart rate booming in his ears. She removes the eyepatch and looks straight at the sapphire that gleams brightly in the warm lighting. And then she smiles.

“What do you see?” he exhales.

“Nothing scary, that’s for sure,” her gaze doesn’t leave his face, her index finger tracing the scar, barely touching his skin.

“Nothing I don’t admire,” her voice is a little above a whisper.

“Nothing I wouldn’t love.”

His heart is beating so fast, it feels caged and ready to jump out at any second. Aemond forgets about the headache as if it never existed. In this state of bliss, he contemplates making a very emotional decision. But she makes one instead.

She lowers her face closer to his and all of a sudden he feels a touch so light, it’s almost like a petal brushes over his skin. It’s her lips. She kisses his face — his scar — moving tenderly from the high point of his cheek to the area under the sapphire and then right above what’s left of his eyelid.

When their eyes meet again, Aemond can only think of one thing.

He surges upward, his lips colliding with hers — she responds in an instant. His chest feels like it’s on fire as kissing her is the most overwhelming feeling in the world, but he doesn’t want to stop, ever. Her fingers gently slide down to his neck and Aemond uses his arm for support as he sits up without breaking the kiss. He then pulls her closer, one of his hands on her lower back and the other nestled under her jaw.

She softly sighs into his mouth — and it might be his new favorite sound. She tastes like berries, her lips getting more eager, fiery, addictive, and he is dizzy with joy and longing, trying to memorize each second. The pacing of the kiss grows heated and intoxicating as they melt into each other perfectly. They only part when both are out of air, their lips tingling, swollen and craving to continue.

“I must admit,” she tries to catch her breath, she can’t stop smiling, her hands caressing his face, “you exceeded my expectations.”

Aemond laughs, cheerful and carefree, his nose bumping into hers.

“It’s all about teamwork, as I’ve heard,” he plants a quick peck on the corner of her mouth — and on the other one. And then they are kissing again, desperately drawn to each other. He’s lost in the sound of her voice, in the feeling of her lips on his.

His love for her is all-consuming. Her love for him is healing.

Turns out, letting her in doesn’t make him lose. With her by his side, he always feels like a winner.

✧ the title is a quote from Hozier’s song ✧ I originally took inspiration from this post that lists the possible consequences of losing an eye. I also can’t help but mention the extensive research that @adderess did, which only adds to that heartbreaking yet very realistic concept. ✧ I have a playlist for Aemond 🎵 I didn’t add any music in this fic BUT I’ve listened to “Mr Sandman” a lot, especially the instrumental version. 💕 my masterlist

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

2K notes · View notes

puck-luck · 1 month ago

Text

new beginnings | july 15 - july 21

50:90 – HONEY

“Maybe this sounds stupid, but I didn’t think it would be so cold at the rink,” Bea says. She’s got a thin zip-up hoodie on over a t-shirt and a pair of leggings. She’s wearing long socks because Honey told her that she needed to go change out of her Birkenstocks and put on real shoes– “like, sneakers, Bea”– so that she didn’t get frostbite.

Honey’s only been to an ice rink once, on a date with Thomas just before Christmas when they first started dating. She had been dressed for the Charlotte winter in her big puffy coat and gloves, but she had worn jeans and thin socks that day, and she thought her toes would fall off by the end of the date. They were only at the rink for an hour and she made Thomas turn the heat to 80º in his car on the drive home so that she could thaw out.

Bea definitely wouldn’t have made it through the boys’ practice in Birkenstocks. That’s why they’re in Charlotte today.

It took Trevor an hour on the phone to convince Honey to come with him to Charlotte, since Jack had invited Bea along to practice. She feels a little trapped in the city, but as long as they’re in the Coliseum, Honey isn’t looking over her shoulder the whole time. After all, it’s only the seven of them in the rink besides a few workers that are doing their own thing. The boys are on the ice and she and Bea are on the home bench, sitting and watching the boys run a passing drill.

“It also echoes a lot more than I thought,” Bea adds. “Qu– they’ll smack the ice with their sticks and it, like, reverberates.”

Despite her correction, Honey doesn’t miss the way that Bea was going to mention Quinn by name. She also hasn’t missed how Quinn has been showing off during practice– he’s never been the type to gloat, but every time he does something well or scores on one of the others, he looks over at Bea to see if she’s been watching.

But she hasn’t been watching him. Bea has been resolutely ignoring Quinn as much as she can, only sneaking a look when he’s completely enraptured with what he’s doing in that moment.

“Why have you been acting weird?” Honey asks, the question bursting out of her like a cannonball. “Him blue-balling you one time isn’t that big of a deal, you know.”

Bea presses her lips together and rubs a fist over one of her eyes. She sighs and turns to face Honey, swinging her leg over the bench to straddle it. “I have been giving him so much attention,” she says. “It’s messing with me, honestly. I’m so attached to him, but it’s just not reasonable for me to be this attached.”

“Why not?” Honey prods. Bea sounds much more rational than the previous morning, when she hijacked the phone call between Honey and Trevor to rant about Quinn. That’s a good sign– or maybe it’s not, because Bea’s starting to sound a little resolute about her choice. She’s always been the kind to make up her mind and stubbornly stick with her decision, even if it turns out to be the wrong one.

Bea spreads her hands out to her sides and shrugs, an ironic laugh bubbling up from her chest. “He’s leaving.”

“So, what? You can’t visit him? You can’t talk to him on the phone?” Honey demands. “There are options, Bea.”

“That’s not what I decided to do at the beginning of the summer,” Bea says.

So it is stubbornness that’s causing Bea to act this way. Honey should’ve guessed that.

“Things can change,” Honey says, scoffing a bit. “You don’t have to stick with your Slut Summer if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that, Honey!” Bea snaps. She looks around to make sure none of the boys heard her outburst as they continue to practice, then she steels herself with a deep breath. When she speaks again, her voice is quiet and definite. “I like him too much. I am too attached to him. Even if I wanted it to work after this summer, it wouldn’t. That’s just the way that it is.”

“Why not?” Honey asks again. “Really. If you like him this much, then you shouldn’t have any trouble making it work outside of Litchton.”

“Honey!” Bea scrubs her hands over her face, then starts to count off the reasons against her palm, her tone sharper than it needs to be. “He lives across the country, in another country. He travels constantly. He might like me now, but I’m just some bitch from Litchton. It’s not like I’m a model from New York who understands the pace of his life.”

“Did he say that?” Honey interrupts, looking out onto the ice to Quinn. If he called Bea ‘some bitch from Litchton,’ she’ll walk across the ice right now and tackle him to the ground. Trevor would probably help her beat him up, just because it’s her, and it’s not like the other boys would stop her if she told them that he insulted Bea.

“Of course he didn’t say that, don’t be stupid,” Bea retorts. “But it’s the truth!”

“So, what? You’re just going to give up?” Honey shakes her head. “You’re going to fuck the other guys and ignore him until you like him an acceptable amount again and push your feelings for him into a dumpster that’s on fire?”

“Are you and Trevor going to stay together after the summer?” Bea asks, turning the tables on Honey with a quirk of her eyebrows.

Honey frowns. The truth is, she doesn’t know. She has a lot of the same concerns as Bea, but despite how she felt last week during that brief– three day long– period of panic where she wanted to end things with Trevor, she doesn’t know what she wants. She likes him, but it’s the same thing: he’ll be all the way across the country and she’ll be here. “We haven’t talked about it.”

Bea laughs at Honey’s reply. “Well, Quinn and I have talked about it. It’s a one summer thing.”

“You don’t have to be mean about it,” Honey murmurs, her frown only deepening. “I’m just saying that, if you like him, you should see if it works outside of Litchton.”

“It won’t. He won’t be around. It’ll be a seasonal relationship because his priority is hockey. I don’t want a boyfriend who’s only around for three months out of the year,” Bea says, her eyes narrowed. “And that’s it. That’s that.”

“Okay, geez,” Honey concedes. “I just don’t see what that has to do with your relationship with him now. You’re clearly upset ignoring him. He obviously feels like shit, too, but he’s not trying to cause a fuss. Why can’t you just talk to him?”

“I’m taking a break,” Bea states.

“I don’t see how that helps you.”

“You’re the one who suggested it in the first place.”

Honey flinches back. “No, I didn’t,” she denies. “Why would I suggest that you and Quinn ‘take a break?’ You’re obsessed with each other.”

“Yeah, you did,” Bea insists. “You told me on the phone to take a break. Trevor agreed that it’s the right thing to do.”

“You’re following Trevor’s advice?” Honey sneers. “Bea, sweetheart, he’s an idiot and you don’t really like him all that much. Plus, Quinn doesn’t want to take a break from you.”

“You don’t know that.” Bea rolls her eyes.

“I do. I do know that,” Honey insists, her voice rising a bit.

“How?” Bea snaps. “How could you possibly know that?”

“He told me.”

“Great, well, he told me that he respects my decision and he agrees that it would be really hard to be together after the summer. And as much as he’s willing to try, I’m not. I like him so much that if we break up, I’m going to be miserable,” Bea says. “We’ll break up because of distance and it will change me on a fundamental level. So, we’re mutually parting ways at the end of the summer. It is the best outcome and you can’t change my mind.”

“So maybe you should suck it up and be happy with him now,” Honey bites back. “Ignoring him and making yourself miserable now isn’t going to make that ‘mutual’ breakup any easier at the end of the summer.”

Bea clenches her jaw and glares at Honey, clearly stopping herself from saying something.

“Oh, don’t do that,” Honey scoffs. “Whatever you want to say, go ahead and say it.”

“You don’t want me to say what I’m thinking,” Bea says carefully through her teeth. “I think I’m going to go call Cece and see if she wants to grab dinner while I’m in town. She’ll drive me back to Litchton tonight. I’ll see you at work.”

Bea stands and stomps away, dialing her sister’s phone number and holding the phone to her ear. Her footsteps echo across the arena and the boys pause on the ice.

“Hey,” Luke exclaims with a clap and a whistle to get the girl’s attention.

“Bea, where are you going?” Jack calls.

Honey watches Quinn’s head turn as she makes her way to the doors, pushing them open with a crash and disappearing through them. Something seems to click in him and he skates toward the edge of the ice, finding an entrance and hopping up, following after her. His stilted jog on his skates is probably slower than he wants it to be, and all of his gear must be weighing him down. It’s probably going to ruin the blades of his skates, too, but he makes his way through the doors anyway.

Cole and Trevor skate up to Honey.

“What was that about?” Trevor asks, concern written all over his face as he looks at Honey. As he surveys her, some of the tension in her shoulders melts away. His concern is for her, if she’s okay.

“Yeah, is she alright?” Cole adds, leaning over the boards on his elbows. “That was…”

“She’s fine,” Honey interrupts, words clipped and short. “She’s just calling her sister. She’ll be back in Litchton tomorrow.”

Cole nods. “Alright. Cool,” he says, taking Honey’s word as truth. That’s lucky for her– it’s good that he doesn’t pry.

Trevor, however, is still standing in front of her, the look in his eyes much more skeptical.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Honey warns the boy.

Trevor pauses, then nods. “Okay.” He looks out onto the ice, then back to Honey. “Do you want to come skate? I can find some blades for you somewhere. I’m sure they have extras. I can go ask the equipment guy.”

Honey fully relaxes, endeared by his offer. “No, baby, I’m okay,” she says softly. “But thanks for asking. You’re almost done anyway, right?”

Trevor looks at the door to the lobby, which has been flung again upon Quinn’s return. He’s got a stormy look on his face, a scowl the likes of which Honey has never seen.“I think we’re about to be done for the day right now,” he says. “I’ll rinse off in the locker room and be out as soon as I can. We’ll pack the car and head home.”

He skates off, joining the other boys as they exit through the tunnel to the players’ locker room. Honey is left on the bench, checking her pockets to make sure she has all of her things before she stands and walks to the lobby. This rink is about twenty minutes from Bea’s house, so there’s a good chance she’s still in the lobby waiting for Cece to pick her up.

Honey should feel trepidation about being next to Bea again so soon after that argument, but there’s something about the way Trevor said ‘home,’ like Litchton really is his home. It felt like a kiss to the cheek and a squeeze of her hand. Trevor talks to her like they’re together-together, like they share a space, and it gives her butterflies.

Just like she thought, Bea is in the lobby. She’s sitting on a bench near the water fountains, arms crossed over her chest and a deep frown etched onto her face. She looks at Honey when she walks through the doors, but just tilts her head up defiantly.

Honey gets the message. Bea doesn’t want to talk anymore. Good– neither does Honey.

She turns her back to the girl, reading the fliers posted on the bulletin board over and over, as if there will be new information the next go around. Anything to avoid having to sit next to an angry Bea.

Whatever she wanted to say, but held herself back from spouting, must have been too mean. Honey understands. She’s seen Bea put the nail in the coffin of an argument before, even experienced it a few times herself. It’s never good and Bea always regrets saying it. It was her New Year’s Resolution last year to work on that, and she’s done pretty well.

A car horn sounds outside. Honey looks to the entrance. She recognizes the vehicle– it’s the old ‘Wagon’ that Bea’s dad used to drive. He passed it down to each of his girls, so Cece has it now. It’s not an actual Station Wagon, but it’s big like one, so that’s why they call it that.

Bea stands and heads toward the exit, her hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie. She pauses at the door.

“We’re going to House of Pizza,” she says, voice hard. “Do you want me to say hello from you? If I see them?”

She’s referring to Honey’s parents. It used to be a tradition to go to House of Pizza on Mondays after school, to celebrate a good start to the week. Honey would get a side of fries to go with the pizza that she’d share with her mom and dad, who always left work early on Mondays to pick her up. Her dad always swore he didn’t want any pizza. He’d order a meatball sub and scarf the whole thing down, then eat two slices anyway. Every single time.

Honey’s heart seizes for a second and she swallows. “Sure,” she replies, her voice feeling foreign. “If you see them.”

Bea nods once and leaves.

Honey takes her place on the bench. Her mind is racing. She traces the back of her teeth with the tip of her tongue.

Do they still go, now that I’m gone? Are they able to do that without me?

Honey doesn’t think she would be able to go to House of Pizza without her mom and dad if things were the other way around. There are too many memories with them there.

There are too many memories in Charlotte, now that she thinks about it. It’s weird that she’s here. There are people in this city that knew her before Litchton. This is where her childhood cat is buried and her dad’s favorite dog. Honey has to take a deep breath before she feels suffocated by how fresh all of her memories still feel.

It’s lucky that Trevor comes out of the locker room with his gear as she exhales. His hair is a little wet and his clothes are sticking to his body, folding over awkwardly with the bag that’s thrown over his shoulder.

He’s alone, so when Honey stands to greet him, he leans in and pecks her mouth. “The other boys are going to throw their stuff in the back themselves,” he says. “So we can go sit in the AC. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Honey confirms. “We just got in a fight.”

“What about?” Trevor asks.

“Quinn,” Honey tells him with a shrug. “It’s fine. We just have different opinions about their situation.”

“Yeah,” Trevor says. “I figured it was something like that. I’m sorry you got into a fight.” They walk towards the exit and Trevor holds the door open for Honey. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Next time, don’t tell Bea to take a break from Quinn,” Honey replies with a chuckle.

“But that’s what you said.” Trevor sounds confused.

“I never told her to take a break from him,” Honey tells him. “But she seems to think that I did, too.”

“You told her to take a break from ‘all of this for a minute,’” Trevor says, using air-quotes.

“Oh,” Honey breathes out. She does remember saying that, just to console Bea. She meant for her to take a deep breath and distract herself for a little while, just to put the emotional spiral aside. “Trev, I didn’t mean Quinn. I just needed her to ground herself so we could talk it out rationally later.”

“Oh.” Trevor blushes. “My bad.”

Honey laughs. She shakes her head. At the car, once he places his bag inside the trunk and they climb into the driver and passenger seats, Honey leans over the console to press a kiss against his lips. “‘s okay,” she murmurs, kissing him once more before the boys arrive. “They can’t stay away from each other long, no matter how much she insists. I bet by the end of the week, we’re back to gagging about their public displays of affection.”

“Oh, their ‘PDA,’ if you will… I better enjoy this while I can,” Trevor quips back, reaching for the radio to change the station to something that isn’t yelling about an advertisement.

“And Jack better milk the shit out of it,” Honey adds, which makes Trevor laugh. He laughs even harder when Jack exits the building and puts his bag in the back of the car, but Trevor doesn’t explain himself. Jack just narrows his eyes suspiciously and uses his stick to reach across the backseat and poke Trevor in the back of the head. It turns into a brotherly spat, which eventually calms once the other three exit the building and break it up.

With a final promise to see them in Litchton, Honey and Trevor are left alone in the car for an entire ninety minutes. Despite his best efforts, Honey refuses to give Trevor road-head and won’t allow him to finger her while he’s driving. Finally, when he gives up, she gets to listen to him sing off-tune the whole way to the fruit stand for her usual shopping spree, then all the way home.

51:90 – TREVOR

With a final tap to the 8-ball, Trevor loses yet another game of pool to Luke. He was supposed to see Honey tonight at her place, but she texted him earlier saying that Jessie had a family emergency and she and Tyler had to run to the hospital, possibly for the night. Honey was asked to babysit little Luca and, being the kind-hearted girl she is, she said yes.

Trevor can’t really be mad at her for helping them out, but he was looking forward to cuddling with her and having a slumber party in his girlfriend’s bed.

Because he can’t do that, he’s in the basement with the boys, playing pool and listening to music and talking about random shit.

Now that Trevor is free from the confines of the pool table, he flops down on the couch. He sits beside Cole, tucked away into the corner near the armchair where Quinn rests. Luke calls for Jack to take Trevor’s place at the table and the boy goes willingly, although his eyes slide over the movie on the screen. Talladega Nights.

It’s been a fan favorite among the boys of the lake house for years. Of course it is– Will Ferrell, racing, pretty girls, raunchy humor. At one point in their lives, it was each of their favorites. Whether it be because of the moment that Carley Bobby flashed her tits or because of the stupidity of the film, they all loved it.

Jack seems more reluctant than most to leave the movie behind to play pool. After all, it’s still one of his favorites, easily a top five pick. Quinn’s barely paying attention, just watching the movie with a half-interested flicker of light in his eyes. Cole is much more interested, mouthing the words along with the characters on the screen. Trevor falls in with them, able to pick up the story easily after years of watching it over and over again. It never gets old.

“Hey, let me see your phone,” Quinn murmurs, reaching out with his foot to kick at Trevor’s knee.

Trevor fishes it out of his pocket. “After the way she snapped at you yesterday when you went after her, I don’t think she wants to see you.”

Quinn fixes him with a glare, then returns to the phone without saying anything.

“Hey, if she doesn’t want to see him, then maybe she’ll come over and see me,” Cole interjects, putting an unnecessary twang on his words just because it’s the way Ricky Bobby speaks.

Quinn ignores him, staring at the phone. Then, Trevor watches him shift his eyes to the side and bite his tongue before he tosses the phone into Trevor’s lap. “She doesn’t want to come over at all,” he says. “Says it’s too late for her to come over on a work night.”

Cole laughs. “Yeah, sure, ‘cause she hasn’t slept over on a work night before. You’re down in the dumps, Q.”

Quinn grits his teeth, but stays silent.

“Let me text her, Z,” Cole says, reaching for the phone. “Bet she’ll come over if I ask.”

Under normal circumstances, Trevor would absolutely hand his phone over to Cole to see if Bea comes running. Today? That’s too cruel. Especially because, as Honey revealed last night, he completely misinterpreted her advice to “take a break” and turned it into something bigger than she intended. Plus, his actions caused Honey and Bea to have a fight. He doesn’t like that.

“Nah, bud, just let it be. Listen to Ricky Bobby, he’s learning a lesson right now.” Trevor tucks his phone away again and kicks his feet up on the coffee table. He prods his arm up on the plush pillow next to him and cradles his head against his fist.

He succeeds in distracting Cole, who is as easy as a crow spotting something shiny, but Trevor still feels weird about the dark glare that is cemented on Quinn’s face. He still sits in the armchair– a better man than Trevor.

If Honey broke up with him, even for a few days, he wouldn’t be seen outside of his bedroom until their problems were solved. He’d sulk the whole day long, and he’s not ashamed to admit it. Trevor’s always the first to remind people that he is not the person with the world’s best attitude, even though he’s doing a lot better at controlling himself than when he was a teenager.

He’s even gotten better at admitting defeat and apologizing when he’s wrong. This situation calls for that.

“Look, man, I’m sorry about what’s happening with Bea,” Trevor says to Quinn, who gives no indication that he’s listening. Belatedly, he adds, “I feel bad.”

“Why would you feel bad,” Quinn replies with a grunt, patience already thin. Trevor should have thought this through.

Trevor groans in the back of his throat, having been caught in a pickle. He could lie and say that he feels bad in general, but when they patch up, Bea will tell Quinn that it was Trevor’s idea all along. He may as well get it over with. He ducks his head. “I was the one who suggested that she take a break from you for a couple of days.”

A hush falls over the room and everything seems to go still. Even though Talladega Nights plays on, it’s impossible to hear over the suspense of the moment, the anticipation for Quinn’s– likely negative– reaction. Even Cole is quiet and the pool players have frozen in place momentarily. Luke was half-bent over, ready to take his next shot, but he straightens up and watches Quinn. Jack’s holding his cue up in front of him, arms crossed atop it like a hug with one of his fingers touching his teeth and another pinching at his lower lip. His eyes are wide and they’re darting back and forth between Trevor and Quinn. He starts to chew on his fingernail, a tic that has always comforted him in moments like this.

“What,” Quinn states, his head seeming to turn towards Trevor in slow motion, looking like the movement should be joined by the long creak of an old door in a horror movie.

“To be fair, Honey suggested it first,” Trevor says. “But I… misinterpreted what she meant.”

A tight smile comes across Quinn’s face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Those are dark, sharp, and deadly, not complacent like his smile. “Let’s go upstairs, Trevor.”

Trevor looks at the other boys, all of whom avert their eyes. He’ll receive no backup down here. Thanks a lot, guys, he thinks. However, he makes no move to get up. “No, we should– let’s talk here.” At least here there are witnesses if anything happens to him, like a broken bone. After all, it was Quinn that broke Jack’s wrist in a scuffle all those years ago, and that was just when they were kids. Imagine what he can do to Trevor now.

“No, I think you want to go upstairs,” Quinn says with a slow nod, not blinking once as he stares at Trevor. He cocks his head slightly to the side. “Unless you want to talk about that girl that you’ve been seeing. From Raya, right? I think it’s only fair that I get to weigh in on your relationship, since you’ve made a problem in mine.”

Trevor sees through the implication, the threat, and feels his mouth go dry. Quinn wouldn’t dare tell everyone about what’s going on between him and Honey. Trevor can only imagine how pale he looks. He shakes his head.

Quinn nods again, narrowing his eyes at Trevor. “That’s what I thought,” he says sarcastically. He stands. “Let’s go.”

Trevor, feeling meek, follows with his tail between his legs. He thought he was being nice, apologizing to Quinn for the break. He was owning up, and all of that– and this is what his honesty and empathy gets him?

Quinn doesn’t stop at the first floor. He climbs the stairs to the second floor, where all of their bedrooms are, and he stops in front of Trevor’s door.

“What exactly happened?” Quinn questions, crossing his arms over his chest and blocking the entrance to Trevor’s safe haven. His voice is cold, devoid of emotion, and Trevor honestly would rather him throw something or even wind up to punch Trevor.

“It was the morning after the hot tub,” Trevor says. “She barged into my room looking for Honey. She made me call her. She talked, Honey told her to take a break and that she’d see Bea soon.” Trevor looks down at his shoes. “Then Bea asked me if I thought Honey was right, that she should take a break. I thought Honey meant an actual break, not just a few hours to calm down before dealing with the problem. I said yes.”

Quinn’s nostrils flare and his mouth pinches together, about to say something.

“But I also told her that your relationship with her is better than other relationships you’ve had,” Trevor adds, covering up his mess. “And that you seem happier with her than you are with anyone else.”

“You did,” Quinn says. He nods a few times. “What makes you think that you get to talk to her about my other relationships? Why didn’t you send her to me?”

“She didn’t want to see you,” Trevor replies. “After… what happened the night before.” He doesn’t want to explicitly bring up Quinn’s inability to perform.

Quinn’s face darkens.

Well, it can’t get worse than this. “And she’s worried that you regret this. That you– that she’s not what you want.” Trevor takes a breath, but no more words leak out of him.

Quinn pinches the bridge of his nose and curses under his breath. He looks up. “She thinks that,” he states. He starts to laugh. “And instead of telling her that I don’t want that, you told her to take a break and figure it out?”

“How was I supposed to know how you felt?” Trevor demands. “I can’t give her advice about you!”

“Oh, but you did,” Quinn points out. “You have given her advice about me. Some therapist you are, Trevor. You’ve seen how I was with Liv, you were there while I dated my girlfriends in Michigan, and you seriously thought that I would be okay with taking a break from Bea?”

Trevor flounders for an answer, but comes up with nothing. He shrugs helplessly.

Quinn reaches behind him and opens Trevor’s bedroom door. He steps forward and takes Trevor by the front of his t-shirt, pulling him closer.

“If you fuck this up for me again,” he threatens lowly. “I’ll kill you.” He smiles, sealing his promise, and sends Trevor stumbling into his bedroom. Before Quinn closes the door on him, he adds, “You’re lucky that I like Honey. Otherwise, I’d have no problem fucking that up for you, too.”

He slams the door shut and walks away. Trevor can hear him stomping down the hallway, then down the stairs, then the slam of the front door. It isn’t long after that Trevor hears Quinn drive away.

He checks the time. With shaky hands, he finds Honey’s number and clicks on it, lifting the phone to his ear. She said Luca usually goes to bed around 8. It’s 8:45 now, so she should be free.

She picks up just as he’s about to pull away and hang up, cutting his losses. “Hello?” She asks, a smile already evident in her voice.

“I’m an idiot,” Trevor says.

Honey laughs aloud, then claps a hand over her mouth. She’s able to quiet herself down, snickering as she says, “Yeah, sweetheart, I already knew that.”

‘Sweetheart.’ That’s a new one. Trevor bats his smile away. Now is not the time to be blushing over a nickname from the girl he likes. “I told Quinn that I was the one who told Bea to take a break from him.”

Honey is quiet on the other end of the call. “You really are an idiot.”

“I know,” Trevor groans. “He was so mad, I thought he was going to punch me.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t.”

“He said if I ever meddled in his relationship again, he’d kill me.”

Honey hums. “Well, that’s nice. For Bea, I guess. That he’s willing to kill for her.”

“Did it ever occur to you that he might just hate me?”

Laughter fills his ears again. “He doesn’t hate you, Trevor.”

“I’m not exactly feeling the love over here,” Trevor complains.

Honey pauses. Her voice returns, sounding like she’s suppressing another round of giggles. “Would you like to?”

Trevor furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head at himself in the mirror and tossing his hand up in a confused gesture. ‘What?’ he mouths to himself. “Feel the love?” He asks into the phone. “I’d prefer it if Quinn wasn’t threatening me–”

“Not from Quinn, baby,” Honey sighs. “Luca’s down for the night and I’m all alone downstairs… I missed you tonight. We could’ve been in bed.”

Trevor perks up. “You missed me?”

“Hard not to. I see you all the time. It’s weird, canceling plans with you.”

A smug smile makes its way across Trevor’s lips. “What part did you miss most?” He teases.

“I was kind of counting on your cock, actually,” Honey says conversationally, like that’s not a sentence that would have Trevor spitting out his water (if he were drinking any). The blood from his brain already seems to be rushing to the exact appendage that Honey mentioned. “Had a bad day at work. Barely talked to Bea at all.” She’s pouting for effect, Trevor can hear it through the tinny speaker. “Thought it would make me feel better to hear all those pretty noises you make when I get my lips around you.”

Her lips. Her bright, shiny, pink lips. The image fills Trevor’s brain, sluggish from the blood leaving it and making his nerves stand on end, and the best he can manage is an “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Honey confirms. “But I’ll have to settle for my imagination, I guess.”

She sounds dejected, like her heart is broken by disappointment, and Trevor just can’t have that. Sure, maybe she’s playing him like a fiddle, but he can’t find it in himself to care. “No,” he tells her. “No. We– fuck, Honey, I’m hard just hearing you talk like that.”

“Aww, you like it when I talk dirty to you?” Honey teases.

Trevor hums out a response, but Honey didn’t need it.

“Why don’t you let me hear just how much you like it?” She asks.

It’s just like Trevor’s dream, when he would get so close to fucking her on the boat before he’d wake. She would tease him in her devoted way, although it’s clear through her voice that he’s completely at her power.

“Are you going to–” Trevor starts to ask, but it’s a stupid question. She’s definitely not going to get off while she’s in Jessie and Tyler’s house, while she’s technically still babysitting Luca.

“No, not now. But I need something to occupy my mind later, once I’m home in my cozy bed.” She lowers her voice. “I’m ovulating again, you know. It’s been driving me crazy all day. I almost checked out a book from the romance section before I remembered that the real thing is just a few minutes away.”

Trevor’s already walking back to his own bed. He settles among the pillows, a hand on his waistband, ready to take his shorts off as soon as Honey says.

“Ovulating, huh?” He asks, hearing himself through a fog. “So, you’re–”

“Really, really horny,” Honey faux-complains, trying to garner sympathy from Trevor. She tries to make it sound like a problem, but it’s not– not for him. She wants to fuck him, bad. She’s working, technically, but she’s calling to hear him come so that she can get off to it later.

Trevor cannot believe his luck. Here he was thinking that he’d be dead by the end of his conversation with Quinn, but his girlfriend is on the line making him feel better in the best way possible.

“Fuck, wish I could hear you, too,” Trevor admits sheepishly. “Wish I was in your bed. Want you to touch me.”

“Mm, do you already have a hand on yourself?” Honey asks.

Trevor shakes his head, then remembers that he has to actually respond to her. “No.”

“Go on,” Honey encourages.

Trevor pushes his shorts and underpants down to his knees with a slight struggle, trying to hold the phone between his shoulder and ear. “‘Kay,” he says once he’s wrapped his left hand around his length. It brings a little reprieve and he has to stop before he starts to stroke himself without her explicitly telling him to do so.

“You know what I’d do if I was there?” Honey asks.

“Tell me.”

“Rub my thumb over your tip,” she says. “Then lick up all the precum that comes out while I rub you. Haven’t tasted you in so long, Trevor. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like.”

Come to think of it, it has been a long time since his dick was in Honey’s mouth. She refused his requests for road head yesterday, and she certainly hadn’t sucked him off in the hot tub. Did she blow him when they were high? He doesn’t remember.

“But I think once I taste you again, I won’t want to keep my mouth off of you,” Honey ponders. “I’ll want to keep you in my mouth until you’re coming down my throat for a second time.”

Trevor’s lips part and he lets out a desperate groan, his eyes closing and his head tilting back. His thumb passes over his slit, just like she said she would do. With his eyes closed, he can almost picture her here.

“There are those pretty noises,” she marvels.

Does Trevor detect fondness in her words? He’s already too far gone to decide, but his first instinct is that yes, it is. It’s more– she’s proud.

“For you,” he murmurs, losing control of his mouth.

Honey breathes in, her breath jumping through the phone. “Oh, yeah? All for me?”

“Wanna make you happy,” Trevor continues.

Behind his closed eyes, she’s smiling up at him as she pumps his cock, pressing a kiss to his shaft and leaving behind a slight sheen of lipgloss in its place, which disappears as her hand continues to move.

Her voice fills his ears and he imagines her face when she’s trying not to smile, trying not to show that she’s pleased with his words. It’s the same face she made yesterday at the rink, when he offered to find some skates for her– her lips quirking up into a kind-of ‘v’ shape because no matter how much she tries to avoid the smile, it comes anyway.

“You do,” she offers simply. Her voice is sweet, serious even, before it turns raunchy again. “I wish I were there, too, baby.”

Baby, baby…

“Remember when Cole dared me to lick the whipped cream off of you?”

“Uh-huh,” Trevor replies, able to come back to himself for a second when she mentions Cole. He doesn’t want this to end so quickly, so the mention of his friend is welcome, even if it’s a little weird.

“I think if he dared me to do it again, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself, and I’d have to suck you off right then,” Honey says.

“You– you put your fingers in my waistband,” Trevor chokes out, feeling the phantom touch, the memory of her fingers against his abdomen. They were so low, so near to his cock, and she did it mindlessly. If she were here, she’d make a point to touch his v-line now. She’d run her finger over it, barely, just enough to have his skin crawling. “Didn’t even think about it. I wanted you to.”

“Hm, I know you did,” she teases. “I could see it on your face.”

“Dreamt about it,” Trevor adds. “Got off thinking about it.”

Honey makes a noise of surprise. “You did?” She asks. “So you’ve been fucking your fist, picturing me, since the second week of summer?”

It’s humiliating, but it’s true. Trevor doesn’t care anymore. He has her, anyway. They’re together. She’s his and he’s hers, always has been since the second he bumped into her outside the fruit stand.

“Wanted you for so long,” Trevor says. “Need you.”

“You have me,” Honey replies. It’s nowhere close to a promise, nor a confirmation that they’re together the way Trevor wants them to be and tells himself they are, but her words have him seeing stars. “I’m right here, baby.”

Trevor keens. His hand practically flies over his cock, leaking and dripping and twitching as she continues to talk about how pretty he sounds and how much she wishes that he was with her right now. She compliments him in all sorts of ways, but her use of ‘baby’ and ‘sweetheart’ echo through his head over everything.

The nail in the coffin comes quickly, too quickly for Trevor to process. She says it and he’s spilling over his hand, crying out in a way that would be pathetic if he could hear it over her light laughter and the rush of blood through his eardrums.

Her words ring in his head, replacing the ‘babies’ and the ‘sweethearts’ with “Want you to paint my face with your cum, Trevor. It’ll look so pretty on my tongue.”

He doesn’t remember talking to her after that. Trevor barely remembers pulling his pants up or falling asleep, and yet, he drifts off and his dreams are full of Honey getting exactly what she wanted. It’s an endless loop. Nothing exists for Trevor except Honey– not in his dreams, and if he has it his way, he’ll luck out and be stuck with her forever. It’s almost a shame he has to wake the following day, the only consolation being the promise of the real thing.

52:90 – HONEY

After two days of faux-cordial, one-sentence answers from Bea, the girl has finally apologized for her outburst at the rink. Honey tried to do the same and apologize for pressing Bea for answers, but she just waved Honey off.

“Emotions were high,” Bea had said with a shrug. “I can’t blame you for getting frustrated. I’ve been so mad at myself for the past couple of days and it hasn’t been easy for anyone.”

“Should we talk about it?” Honey had asked, a slight grimace on her face. “And maybe keep it under control this time?”

Bea chuckled at Honey in a self-deprecating way, rolling her eyes. “Oh, fuck off. I’m much calmer now. Cece and I had a nice long chat about it. We even phoned Trixie in from Topsail. All the McLean sisters, back together again, solving the world’s problems.”

“Really?” Honey asked. “How is Trix?”

Ada shushed them, then asked why they weren’t working, and the conversation ended there.

It would continue later: Bea left Honey a note at the cash register in her loopy handwriting, saying that they should get margaritas at the dingy Mexican restaurant in town that no one remembers the name of, so they all just call it ‘Mexico.’ On Wednesdays, they have $15 pitchers of margaritas. Honey has never been one to turn down Mexico and Margs.

So, after work, that’s where they go. Mexico is near the grocery store, even shares a parking lot with the brick building that Honey visits every Monday. They walk from the Nook– it’s maybe a block and a half– and they appreciate the exercise anyway. They share a pitcher of the mango margarita and Bea orders fajitas while Honey orders her usual ACP with extra tortillas on the side.

“So I haven’t been hiding details from you, but there are things I haven’t told you,” Bea starts, gesturing with her fork once the food arrives.

“Like how you decided you’d keep it casual because he wasn’t over Liv,” Honey says. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that.”

Bea ducks her head and swirls her drink with her straw. “Yeah. I didn’t really– I don’t think I quite believed him until we talked about her on Friday. After the party. After we went to bed.”

“What did he say?” Honey asks.

“You know I’m not an insecure person,” Bea says. Honey nods, confirming her reminder. “I just can’t get over that Quinn was with a model before me. I feel like he left that out on purpose when he said he missed her sometimes. How often is ‘sometimes’ anyway?”

Honey shrugs. “Too vague to tell. I think that’s the purpose of the word.”

“Yeah. But… yes,” Bea shakes her head, trying to get her story together in a coherent way. “When Quinn and I first had our conversation about the Slut Summer, he told me he had just gotten out of a relationship, right?”

“Right,” Honey agrees. Bea had told her that part.

“Then, he tells me he’s not sure if he wants to get back together with her when he sees her again.” Bea spreads her hands on the table, pausing to suck up a sip of margarita from her straw. She clears her throat. “Again, this was before I started… liking… him. So at the time, it was fine! I wanted to fuck his brothers and one of his best friends, so who cares if he gets back together with his ex girlfriend?”

“A few weeks later, you start falling for him, and suddenly you care that he isn’t sure if he wants to get back together with her,” Honey says.

“Exactly,” Bea states, sitting back against the vinyl booth behind her. There’s a parrot painted on the booth near her shoulder. If she moves over just an inch, it’ll look like it’s her pet and she brought it to the restaurant with her. Honey will have to take a picture for her when they’re having a less serious conversation.

“So what happened when you talked about her?” Honey asks.

“Quinn broke up with her because she wasn’t ready for marriage and babies,” Bea tells her. “Babies, Honey,” she repeats. “I’m not ready for a fucking baby. I certainly wasn’t hooking up with any of them to marry and have babies.”

“That’s crazy,” Honey says, matching Bea’s tone to validate her feelings. She’s right– Honey can’t imagine getting married and having babies right now.

Her mind drifts to Trevor and his guest appearance at Story Time, to the little girl who pulled herself up by his pant leg and reached for his teeth. She imagines his stupid, silly, overdramatic face as he shows the illustrations to the baby.

Before she can help it, she’s imagining him in a rocking chair in her house, in the little nook behind the loft stairs that was her nursery when she was young. There’s a baby on his lap, resolutely ignoring the book in his hands, touching his cheeks and trying to poke at his eyes. She imagines Trevor snickering and blowing a raspberry on the baby’s rosy cheek. Suddenly, in her mind, he’s wearing a wedding ring.

“What’s crazier,” Bea interrupts her thoughts with wide eyes to emphasize the word, “Is that at the rink when he followed me, he apologized for making me so upset and he asked if we could talk. I said no, because– well, you know why– and he told me he loved me.”

Honey’s jaw drops. “What?” She demands. “What? In what context? How did he get to that?”

“I don’t know!” Bea exclaims, throwing her hands up. “He loves me? We’ve been fucking for seven weeks! We’ve only known each other for seven weeks! I’ve been a fucking whore this entire summer and still, he loves me?”

“To be fair,” Honey says, trying to speak nonchalantly. “It’s really isolated up here. A week feels like a month, sometimes. Litchton time is different. To him, it probably feels like you’ve been together for ages.”

“But, the thing is, we’re not really together. Like, yeah, it’s special, whatever– but I’m fucking his brother.”

Honey watches a middle aged woman from the table behind them cast a look in their direction.

“Lower your voice,” she murmurs, gesturing around them.

“Sorry,” Bea says, calming down. “It’s just a lot.” She brushes her hair out of her face and takes another sip of her drink, then crouches down to lick some of the salt off of the rim of the glass. “Could you imagine? If Trevor told you he loved you right now, what would you do?”

Honey ponders the question, but comes up with nothing. To be honest, if Trevor told her that he loved her right now, she’d spit out her margarita and probably accidentally get it in his eyes.

“Naturally, I told him that I can’t deal with this right now,” Bea continues. “How do I even reply to that? ‘Sorry Quinn, I’m taking a break from you because I like you too much. I don’t love you back, but I like you too much and I might start loving you back if I’m not careful.’ Like, what the fuck is that?” She demands. “Inadequate, is what it is.”

“Do you really think he loves you or did he, like, just say it to get you to talk to him,” Honey points out. “Because you haven’t been talking to him at all. Maybe desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“I don’t think Quinn would say something like that just for kicks,” Bea says. “Or just to get me to talk to him. I think he means it, and, well… you know. I’ve never loved someone before, I don’t know what that’s like. It’s not like I can say it back.”

“Ah, yes, the age-old Bea dilemma,” Honey teases. “I always knew that you dating all these men for a few months, then breaking up with them just before it gets serious, would land you in trouble someday. The heartbreaker gets her comeuppance.”

“You are so not funny,” Bea scolds. “This is Quinn we’re talking about, Honey. Quinn Hughes. He is the closest thing I have ever had to an actual boyfriend. You know I’ve never been with anyone like this. I never expected to be with anyone like this. The closest thing I can compare him to is Thomas. Not in the sense that Quinn will act like he did, but like… Quinn will change everything for me. He already has. I–” She loses her words, shaking her head rapidly and tapping her fingers against the tabletop. She takes a deep breath like she’s about to speak, then deflates.

The mention of Thomas is enough to stop the conversation temporarily. Honey is lucky that their food arrives and they can take a break to scarf down a few bites. It gives Honey time to think and time to steer the conversation away from her least favorite subject. Bea rarely ever brings Thomas up, so invoking his name adds a seriousness and somber quality to the conversation that it didn't have before. The time with her food gives Honey a chance to form an adequate response– well, a question.

“So, what are you worried about?” Honey asks. “I mean, he likes you, clearly. You like him. Take everything else out of the equation– what’s stopping you from being with him?”

Bea stares at Honey, chewing her fajitas until they’re mush and wiping her lips with the napkin before she replies. She’s sheepish and shy when she speaks, almost embarrassed. Honey has never seen Bea look embarrassed, in all seventeen years of knowing her.

“I am so afraid,” Bea breathes out, her eyebrows furrowed as if in disbelief. She presses her lips together, licks them, and shakes her head again. Slower, this time. More sad. “Of– losing him? And, no offense, but of being as sad and ruined as you were when you lost your first… love? Boyfriend? Whatever we call him nowadays?”

Honey snorts. “No offense taken.”

“I keep getting stuck on the idea that our relationship can only work here, and now. He has a whole life out there. He didn’t know that I existed two months ago– who’s to say that he’ll remember me two months after he leaves?” Bea shrugs, scoffing slightly at her own imagination before she speaks. “Maybe I’ll just be the girl he was hooking up with for a summer. A funny story for his friends and teammates– that he was sleeping with me, but Jack was too.”

“He wouldn’t talk about you like that,” Honey tells her, reaching a hand out to touch hers across the table. “And you know he wouldn’t forget you.”

“It’s not just that,” Bea mumbles. “You know how I get. I had a plan.” She blinks, eyes a little wet. “I’m not in Litchton to fall in love with some guy. I’m in Litchton for you. My relationships are a little treat along the way.”

Ah, yes. Bea’s plan– to spend her time in Litchton trying to teach Honey how to let herself have fun again. It’s why she joined Honey when she moved, and not just because Honey asked. Bea saw how upset she was over Thomas, how completely broken and shattered it left Honey (although Bea used the words “sad” and “ruined”), and vowed that the same thing would never happen again on her watch. She tried to lead by example, by living her life and getting dates and dragging Honey out and having fun, always giving her the option to join in but never pushing. The boys this summer were a twist of fate– for both of them.

“You know, Trevor’s really great,” Honey says softly. “He gets me. Your plan worked. You don't have to stay in town just for me.”

‘Home,’ he had said the other day. He had meant it. Honey thinks that Litchton, without Trevor, isn’t home anymore. Her house, without Trevor in her bed, isn’t home anymore.

“Quinn gets you,” she continues. “I believe it, that he loves you. I think you could love him back. Things can change, you know– I want you to be happy.” Honey feels her throat start to close up with the threat of tears. “I don’t want you to miss out on him because you’re still determined to help me.”

Bea nods. She’s biting her lip to stop it from shaking– and failing.

“I really think you should let him love you,” Honey says. “You can’t keep ignoring him. At least talk to him– you don’t have to stop what you’re doing now, but maybe you could keep in touch with him when he leaves.”

Bea winces. “I can’t,” she mumbles. “I bawled in House of Pizza about it. The waiter had to ask Cece if I was okay. You should see the way he lights up when he talks about Vancouver. He loves it so much but I just can’t move there, not now. I can’t uproot my life for a guy. But– knowing that he’s so far away… and not being able to be with him… I’ll fall apart either way, but especially if I hear his voice through the phone. I think talking to him when he's not here would just make me miss him more. It’s cruel. That I got a taste of him and he’s going to be my One That Got Away.”

“I can’t do anything to change your mind?” Honey asks, feeling helpless. Her face has certainly crumbled, ugly lines marring it as she feels for her friend.

Bea blinks a tear away and purses her lips, shaking her head. “I know myself,” she says resolutely. “It just wouldn’t work. And then he’d be the one that I…” A breath. “Well, I'd just rather be here and have you with me, to help put me back together when it ends.” She takes another breath, sharper this time. She straightens up and pushes her hair back, wiping under her eyes. “Fuck, so serious,” Bea says, changing the subject abruptly, signaling that she's done with this topic. “I hate it when tequila makes me emotional.”

Honey isn’t happy with where the conversation has ended, but she understands what Bea’s saying. Losing Quinn would be a heartbreak she can’t bounce back from, but letting Quinn go? That Bea can live with.

Honey suddenly realizes that she and Trevor have a lot to talk about over the next few weeks. No– she doesn’t want to have this conversation with Trevor and realize that he’s someone who is rapidly slipping through her fingertips, even though she has him now. She likes him and she wants to keep liking him. She doesn’t want to think about what will happen when he leaves every single time they’re together, not the way that it seems Bea is doing whenever she’s near Quinn.

Honey will have to make the most of it. Trevor’s departure– well, she’ll just have to see where the wind takes her. She’s got over a month left with him. She’s going to make the most of it.

53:90 – TREVOR

“No, dude, there’s no fucking way we miss out on the playoffs this year,” Cole argues, waving his fork at Jack menacingly. “I don’t care if there are two Hughes brothers on the Devils. Habs are going all the way to the Cup this year.”

“You fucking wish,” Luke chirps. “Montréal hasn’t won the Cup since ‘93, bro. We won the Cup more recently than you and we’re a better team. Ask anyone.”

“Ask anyone?” Cole demands, scoffing. “Let’s talk legacy, bro. The Devs are nothing.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jack says through a bite of his steak. “The Habs were bottom-five last year, dude. Arizona was better than you, and they don’t even exist anymore. The only one here who’s worse than you is Trevor.”

“Hey, we’re in our rebuild,” Trevor argues. “And we’ve been trading our good players, too.”

“You’re just still upset that your boyfriend isn’t on the team anymore,” Jack laughs. “At least you have Turcs nearby. Can’t believe he’d rather hang out with his girlfriend in LA this summer than with us–”

They all jolt as the front door swings open upstairs. The boys look around at each other. Even Quinn, who had been stabbing at the steak and salad on his plate silently while the boys bickered, snaps his head up to meet their eyes. Cole points to each of the boys, counting them off silently. They’re all here, so Trevor’s alarmed– who could possibly be at the door.

He grabs his steak knife, gripping the handle of the utensil like he’s ready to use it in self defense. The boys listen as footsteps travel across the floor above them. They near the basement door and that, too, swings open.

Cole, probably with the best self-preservation instincts (or a “flight” response compared to Trevor’s “grab-a-knife-and-fight” response), scrambles out of his chair and books it toward the glass sliding door. He doesn’t seem to remember that the glass door is the only door that they keep locked when they’re all home, so he tugs at the handle fruitlessly as the footsteps grow nearer. At the last second, he crouches for cover behind the pool table.

The other boys are not so concerned. Yes, Quinn’s got a light hand on his fork, equally ready to use that as a weapon, and Luke has his phone in his hand like he’s ready to call someone. Jack, however, just squints at the base of the stairs and continues to chew his food, even lifting another bite to his mouth.

The improvised weaponry and Luke’s phone are deemed unnecessary as the intruders descend into the basement. It’s just Honey and Bea.

“Oh,” Luke says, blinking in surprise and putting his phone away.

“‘Sup?” Jack asks, then lowers his eyes back to his plate and chooses another piece of steak to bring to his mouth. Even worse, he stabs a few pieces of lettuce from his salad, smothered in ranch, and pops those in his mouth before he’s done chewing the meat.

Trevor curls his lip in disgust. He’s all for scarfing a meal down– but ranch and steak? No thanks.

“Hi, boys,” Bea greets calmly. “Good dinner?”

Jack nods, humming. He’s still chewing. “Yummy,” he mumbles. “Q outdid himself.”

Quinn returns to his food as well, shrugging one shoulder nonchalantly like he can brush the compliment away. He pushes the salad around his plate, avoiding Bea’s eyes.

“Well, he’s the best cook in the house,” Bea replies. “Without him, you guys would be lost.”

Trevor frowns in confusion. This is new. It’s the first time that she’s acknowledged Quinn since Sunday– since Trevor told her to take a break.

Quinn seems to realize the same thing, setting his fork down and blinking up at the girls.

Honey is trying to hold back a smile, her arms crossed over her chest. She hovers slightly behind Bea, who is wringing her hands and chewing on her bottom lip. She swallows, clearing her throat. She makes eye contact with Quinn briefly, then looks down.

“Um– can we talk?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper. She presses her lips together like Quinn would ever say ‘no’ to her, nervous for his reply.

Trevor thinks Quinn isn’t quite sure what to say, since his answer is just a stilted nod and a disbelieving exhale of laughter, sparking a slight smile. He nods, clearing his own throat and moving his plate away. He sets it on the coffee table, wiping his hands on his shorts before he gets up.

Bea is beaming to herself. Trevor watches her throw a glance at Honey, who tilts her head forward and sets her fist under her nose, covering her grin. She nods.

So it was Honey that solved this thing– Trevor can’t help but swell with pride for his girl. He might have gotten them into this, but she got them out of it. She’s the one erasing this completely unnecessary break between Bea and Quinn. She’s saving his butt, but she’s obviously helping Bea because she loves the girl and she wants her to be happy.

Quinn takes a few steps towards Bea, then stops and turns back. He approaches the mantle below the television, plucking a small item that Trevor hadn’t noticed from the surface. He turns it over in his hands, then walks over and holds it out to Bea. It’s the birthday present he bought her, the one he wrapped so carefully and hadn’t given to Bea at her birthday lunch.

“For your birthday,” Quinn says awkwardly, pushing the gift into her hands. “I left it down here in case you’d find it.”

Bea’s expression softens. “You got me a present?” She asks, letting her hand linger over his skin when she takes the box. “You didn’t have to.”

Quinn shrugs. “Wanted to.”

Jack snorts out something that sounds like “simp,” but he chokes down the last few bites of his food like he said nothing at all. Quinn tosses him a glare as he sits back in his chair and brushes his hands together, ridding them of any lingering crumbs. Jack smiles at Quinn, tight-lipped and kind instead of shit-eating like his jokes normally are, and Quinn lets it go.

Bea unwraps the present carefully, trying not to rip the paper, which makes Honey giggle behind her. She moves around Bea, drawing Trevor’s eyes.

Honey comes to sit in Cole’s abandoned seat, the boy having finally risen from behind the pool table when Honey and Bea revealed themselves, but he still lingers there. He’s grabbed a cue– Trevor thinks he’s trying to cover for his fear by pretending he was playing pool all along. It doesn’t work, but maybe because Trevor saw the whole thing happen.

Luckily, his empty seat is next to Trevor, and Honey plops right down. She’s still watching Bea, but her index finger finds Trevor’s thigh and traces the seam of his pants briefly before pulling away.

A gasp comes from Bea, stealing Trevor’s gaze again. She blinks, touching the item inside the box reverently. Her bottom lip pokes out, head tilting to the side as she looks up at Quinn. Her hand comes up to her mouth, covering her pout. “Quinn,” she manages before her face folds with tears.

“Oh, baby,” Quinn sighs, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her torso, holding her close.

Bea’s arms go around his shoulders, her face buried into his neck while she sobs. She’s spewing some incoherent whines into Quinn’s skin. Trevor understands one of her sniffled sentences: a repeated, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” It’s hard to watch, to be honest. Bea looks tiny in Quinn’s arms. He rubs her back, soothing her with murmured words and cooed shushes. He brings his hands lower and lifts her, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist.

As he walks toward the basement stairs, Bea clinging to him like an octopus, he sends a glare towards the dinner table that offers a clear message. Don’t ever bring this up again.

On the couch, hidden in plain sight, Honey presses her thigh against Trevor’s and crosses her arms over her chest again. With the hand that’s hidden behind her bicep, she nudges him with her knuckle. It’s subtle.

Trevor sees a smile on her face when he turns to look, knowing that it’s directed completely at him, even as she stares at the stairs that Bea and Quinn ascended.

“What was that?” Luke asks Honey, placing his napkin on his empty plate and sitting back on the loveseat.

She shrugs with a shoulder. “They’re back together.” Honey looks over to Jack and grins, not sounding as sorry as she says. “I’m sorry that she won’t be fucking you tonight.”

“I don’t care,” Jack says, waving her away. “This is Bea and Quinn we’re talking about. That’s kind of a big deal.”

Honey’s surprised laugh has Trevor grinning, up until Jack winks at her.

With his wink, he adds, “Plus, Quinn told me that he said something pretty serious to Bea and she’d need time to digest it. I figure she told you?”

Honey nods, sealing her mouth shut with an imaginary key. She tosses it over her shoulder.

Jack nods too, sharing a secret smile with the girl that Trevor doesn’t like one bit. “We’ll talk about it later.” He stands, collects the empty plates on the table. “Coley, are you done?” He asks, turning around and facing the boy.

Cole has racked a set of balls for a game. He nods at Jack. “Yeah, I’ll just eat a late-night snack. Who wants to play?”

Honey lights up. “Me!” She springs up from her spot next to Trevor and bounds over to the pool table, snatching a cue from the rack and assuming her place at the head of the table.

“Who said you were breaking?” Cole protests, shoving her out of the way with his hip.

Honey’s head falls back, her laughter bright.

She and Trevor don’t talk much, but she hangs out with them until the sun has long since gone down and the stars are twinkling in the sky.

At the end of their evening, Trevor meets Honey at the front of the house and kisses her goodbye. She promises to see him tomorrow and presses a pair of cheap earplugs into his palm with a murmured “in case you can’t sleep over the noise coming from the honeymoon suite,” snickering at her own cleverness before offering him another kiss and heading home.

Every time he watches her go, his heart feels like it’s bursting, waiting for the next time he’ll see her again.

54:90 – HONEY

Apparently, Luke went walking in the woods today instead of doing his laundry shift and discovered an old basketball hoop in a clearing, so the boys forgave him for his transgression and now they’re playing ball.

Honey and Bea have been sitting at courtside since they left work that evening. Bea hadn’t made it to the Nook in time to open the store– she owes Honey a few mornings off now– and she hadn’t even wanted to go home to glam up. She was too eager to see Quinn again– her boyfriend, officially.

Honey isn’t sure if she would’ve gone as far as to make Quinn her boyfriend, if she was in Bea’s shoes, considering Bea is certain that their relationship won’t last outside of the summer anyway.

Still, the label seems to give Bea a new twinkle in her eye. She rarely lets Quinn out of her sight and he’s no better. If she’s within an arm’s reach, his hands are on her body, claiming her as his own. Honey would be annoyed, but their joy is infectious. Honey is so drunk on the joy that she almost forgot that she and Trevor are a secret, because she nearly tilted her chin up for a kiss when he came over to greet the girls.

Honey thinks that the news has been broken to Jack, Cole, and Luke that Bea is officially off-limits. She’s almost certain that Jack decided to rib Quinn by pouting and asking if he could just have a night to say goodbye, given the red Indian burn above his wrist– then, Honey briefly wondered if kids have changed the name of an Indian burn since she was on the playground as a child. It has to be an offensive term, but she can’t imagine what else to call it.

She’s actually supposed to get all the information tonight from Jack. When she gave Quinn her phone number after crying in his car, Honey wasn’t expecting the other boys to hijack his phone and steal her information. Yet, this morning, she received a text from an unknown number that read, Need to discuss the big ILY w you. 2nite? and then, Btw this is J$$$!!!

J-Money, he said. No one has ever called Jack ‘J-Money,’ but he said it with the confidence of a man who has been called J-Money for his whole life. Honey had to look up his area code to make sure it was really Jack, but she should have known just by the way he typed. It was typical Jack.

The basketball game seems to be dying down– the boys are panting and starting to dish out lazy fouls. When Cole gets backhanded in the face by Luke, he declares that the game is officially over and he quits. The Hughes boys, dressed in Alvin and the Chipmunks colors in what they swear is a recreation of an old photo, join Honey and Bea at courtside while Trevor and Cole gather the basketball and the water bottles strewn on the ground haphazardly.

“Good game, Q,” Bea says with a fond smile. When he sits on the ground beside her, she climbs onto his lap and makes herself comfortable. She pecks his lips before returning to the group, giggling at the side-eye Jack and Luke share.

“H, wanna go chat?” Jack asks, extending a hand to her.

“Pulling her for a chat?” Bea interjects, referencing her favorite show– the one they’ve been watching because Cole is just as obsessed as she is.

Jack eyes Bea again. “Going to talk shit about you, bud.”

Bea laughs.

Honey takes Jack’s hand and he pulls her to a standing position. Honey wipes over her backside, clearing it of dirt, twigs, leaves, or whatever else she might have been sitting in. “Yeah, J, let’s go.” To the others, she asks, “Do you guys want to start a fire when you get back to the house? We’ll join you when we’re done talking about Bea.”

“You’re really going to talk about her, huh?” Quinn asks, a laugh tinging his words.

“Not just her,” Honey promises with a little wink.

Jack laughs, then he loops his arm with Honey’s and starts to head back towards the house. She marches along with him, pretending like they’re wooden nutcrackers in a Christmas movie. It was Jack’s idea and it made her laugh, so she played along.

They make it back to the house, only getting a little bit lost in the maze of identical trees. Luckily, Honey has always had a good sense of direction when it comes to the woods, and she finds the path out of the greenery after only a minute or two.

Jack takes her up to his room, which she’s never been inside other than the peek she stole during Cole’s initial tour of the house. His bed is just as big as Trevor’s and he’s got a wicker rocking chair in the corner, which Trevor doesn’t have.

She moves to occupy the chair, but Jack pushes her toward the bed. “It’s not comfortable,” Jack says. “You’ve been sitting on the ground all night, bro.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” Honey says, shrugging. “Really, I don’t mind.”

Jack narrows his eyes at her. “I do. Plus, you’re giving me all the dirt. That means you get the good seat. What happened on Bea’s side?”

“Tell me Quinn’s side first,” Honey replies, crinkling her nose.

“I asked you first,” Jack argues.

“Well, I’m prettier than you, so you have to do what I say,” Honey says snidely, trying to hide the smile that creeps onto her face every time she jokes with the boys and they, gullibly, take her seriously.

Jack’s mouth drops open and he scoffs. “Are not!”

“Am too!”

“Are not!”

“Am too!”

Jack switches tactics. “Tell me about Bea,” he whines, elongating the girl’s name. “I wanna know what happened.”

“I don’t know what they talked about last night,” Honey laughs. “She didn’t tell me. I was hoping Quinn told you.”

“He didn’t tell me either,” Jack says, frowning. He snaps his fingers. “Darn. Just when I thought he and I were getting somewhere.”

“So we have nothing to talk about?” Honey demands.

“No.” Jack shakes his finger. “He told me that he said he loves her. That’s it, though. You know more, don’t you?”

“I do,” Honey tells him.

Jack brightens. He clasps his hands together and rubs them excitedly. “What did she say?”

Honey laughs, curt and short. “That she couldn’t deal with that right now.”

Jack makes a face. “What?”

“I mean, they were on a break, Jack. She was upset, too, and then he follows after her and tells her that he loves her? Of course she didn’t know what to say,” Honey says.

“Ugh, how frustrating,” Jack sighs. “I thought she’d be down for that.”

“It’s not that she’s not down for that,” Honey says. “Obviously, since they’re boyfriend-girlfriend now. But, like– can you keep a secret?”

“No.” Jack shakes his head, his answer resolute. “Never been able to do that.”

Honey rolls her eyes, her expression flat and annoyed when she looks at him.

Jack breaks into laughter. “Not from my brothers, dude. From Trevor? Sure, I can keep a secret. From Cole? That’s easy. But not Quinn and Luke.”

“Yes, because Quinn doesn’t already know what happened,” Honey replies sarcastically.

“Hardy har,” Jack fake-laughs at her. He reverts to a normal tone of voice. “Seriously, though, if Luke asks me, I won’t keep a secret from him.”

“Then I won’t tell you,” Honey says, dangling the information above Jack’s head. She crosses her arms over her chest, raising her eyebrows. She stubbornly keeps her mouth shut, waiting for him to make his decision.

Her phone rings.

Now, it’s Jack’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Are you going to answer that?” He asks after the fifth ring.

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

Jack shrugs. “Okay.”

The rings cease and they continue to stare at each other, waiting for the other person to break. Wow, she thinks, he really doesn’t want to keep a secret from his little brother. I wonder what that’s like.

She never had siblings, so she’ll never know– except that she doesn’t like to keep secrets from Bea, who is basically a sister.

Her phone rings again. The first time, it could’ve been anyone. The second time, however, Honey knows who’s on the other end. She never receives calls from different people back-to-back like this, which rules out any spam calls or appointment confirmations. Plus, it’s night now, so fraudulent messages and legitimate calls from businesses are out of the question. It’s obvious. The person on the phone is Trevor.

Jack grins, looking more devilish. “Are you going to answer that now?” He repeats, smug. “Someone’s popular.”

Honey flushes red. “Shut up,” she hisses, fishing her phone out of her pocket. Sure enough, Trevor’s code name (the wolf emoji– he chose it himself and she was just so glad to be rid of his real name that she didn’t ask questions) flashes across her screen. She taps the green button to accept his call and brings the phone to her ear. “Yes?” She snaps.

“Where are you?” Trevor drawls. “Saw you leave with Jack. What are you doing?”

“I’m busy,” Honey tells him. “I’ll see you later.” She hangs up.

Jack snickers. “Hot date tonight?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Honey shoots back.

“There are a lot of things I’d like to know. One: Bea’s secret. Two: who you’re seeing tonight. Three: if water is really wet, because, well, do you remember that trend from a few years ago when people said water wasn’t wet? It really fucked with my head and now–”

“You’re probably the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” Honey interrupts.

Jack wears the insult like a badge of honor. “Thanks! Tell me Bea’s secret. I will try not to tell Luke.”

Honey glares at him.

Jack holds his hands up in surrender. “It’s the best I can do for you.”

Honey relents. “Fine. She’s never been in a big relationship before, just a bunch of little ones. She likes to date people and hook up with them, but she doesn’t really like to commit to people. She likes to use the word “ex-boyfriend,” like, a lot, but none of them actually qualified as boyfriends when she was going out with them.”

Jack hums, furrowing his brow. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Honey confirms. She considers telling Jack the whole story– how Bea wasn’t interested in being in a lengthy relationship while they were in school, how Thomas fucked her over at the end of their time together, how Bea was there for her through it all and how it affected her own views on relationships. While Honey was hurt because such a thing happened to her, Bea was paranoid that something similar would happen to her if she wasn’t careful. After a minute, she decides not to. There’s no reason to bring Thomas up where he’s not relevant.

“So, Quinn is Bea’s first real boyfriend?” Jack asks.

Honey nods.

“Quinn says that she doesn’t want to stay together after the summer ends, though. I thought it was because we were all hooking up with her.” Jack shakes his head, still looking confused. “But now they’re together, so they’re… staying together?”

“Um…” Honey trails off. She takes a breath, groaning a little bit as she tries to explain herself. “I don’t know what they said to each other last night–”

“Not much, judging by the noises that kept me up,” Jack interrupts.

“–but Bea said that she’d miss him too much when he leaves, so for her own sanity, they’ll probably still end it,” Honey finishes.

Jack snorts. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“I know,” Honey says.

“Why would they get together for, like, a month, just to break up?” Jack continues. “Quinn’s done long distance before, I’m sure he’d be happy doing long distance with Bea. I mean, it would be better if it wasn’t long distance, but I feel like long distance is better than nothing.”

“Bro, you’re telling me,” Honey laughs. “I said pretty much the same thing.”

“I don’t understand them,” Jack adds, his rant resuming. “Also, why are you– Quinn, I mean– telling a girl you love her after knowing her for two months? Less than that. He got here late.”

“Time passes differently in the mountains,” Honey explains with a shrug.

“Does it?” Jack questions, punctuating his sentence with a grimace. “I mean, yeah, it seems like we’ve been here for ages. Still, check the calendar– it’s only been two months. Quinn telling Bea that he loves her is like… love-bombing.”

“Do you even know what that means?” Honey asks with another laugh.

“Yes, I know what love-bombing is,” Jack snaps defensively. “I have been accused in the past!”

Honey laughs aloud, throwing her head back. “Of course you have,” she cries out, a little too loud for the quiet bedroom.

“I was a teenager,” Jack explains himself desperately, clearly upset that Honey is laughing at him.

“I just think it’s funny that you know what love-bombing is because you’ve done it,” Honey continues, still giggling to herself.

A knock at the door interrupts them. Jack stands to go answer, opening the door to reveal the boy that Honey just hung up on barely five minutes prior.

Trevor’s face turns cloudy when he sees Honey over Jack’s shoulder, sitting comfortably on the boy’s bed. “Fire’s ready,” he says, words clipped.

Jack doesn’t notice. “Okay,” he says, grinning. He turns to Honey, nodding at her. “Ready?”

“Yeah, sure,” Honey agrees. She has very little else to say to Jack, although she had fun chatting with him and gossiping. It’s funny– at their core, each of these boys eat up the drama just as much as a girl would. They claim that they don’t care, but they really, really do. Not only do they care, but they crave the information.

She hops up from Jack’s bed, walking towards the door. She touches his bicep and squeezes, just to tell him that she enjoyed herself without saying anything at all, then brushes by him. She smiles at Trevor briefly, while her back is to Jack so he can’t see it, but he doesn’t return it.

Jack follows behind her, then Trevor. They go all the way outside, where the fire is crackling a few hundred feet from the house. The boys have pulled chairs from the porch and brought them around the fire pit, leaving extras for Honey and Trevor. Quinn and Bea are bundled in a blanket, Bea’s head lying back on Quinn’s shoulder. She looks up at him, yawning every so often. Luke has a blanket too– he wears it like a hoodie.

Cole is tending the fire, tossing leaves onto the stack of wood and lifting his eyes to watch the particles burn while they dance on the wind. Upon hearing Honey, Jack, and Trevor, though, he bounces up. “Don’t take my seat!” He warns unnecessarily, nearing his chair way before any of them get close. Jack tries to tug him out of the seat anyway.

Honey takes the empty chair next to Bea and Quinn.

Bea turns her head and lazily blinks at the girl. “What do you think about a lake day tomorrow?” She asks, her words running together as a result of her exhaustion. It’s been a long day.

Honey smiles at the girl, a private smile just for her. “Are you sure you can make it? You look sleepy, babe.”

“‘M just comfy,” Bea denies. Her face looks a little puffy from how tired she is. Honey reaches over and thumbs over her cheek. Bea scrunches her face, disrupting Honey’s movements. “Q will wake me up for lake day if I sleep in too much, anyway.”

“You’re staying over?” Honey asks. Her tone isn’t judgmental, just curious.

Bea nods, humming a confirmation. Quinn reaches out from under the blanket and tucks her hair behind her ear, out of her face. She blows him a kiss in thanks.

“Do you want to sleep over, too?” Quinn asks. “We’ve got the extra room. With the bunk beds. Well, Luke moved in this morning, but you could sleep on the top bunk with him and tell scary stories like it’s summer camp.”

“No scary stories,” Luke grumbles. “I’m too tired for that. I need to sleep tonight.”

“Aw, what kept you up?” Quinn teases, smirking to himself at the joke.

Luke doesn’t laugh. Instead, he ignores Quinn after throwing him a mean glare, turning to Trevor on his right and starting a conversation.

They split into groups unintentionally– Luke and Trevor, Jack and Cole, and Bea and Honey (with a side of Quinn, although he doesn’t jump in often).

The night turns colder and the cicadas raise their voices, chirping in the trees and adding a backtrack to the mix of voices in the backyard. There are fireflies floating around. One of them lands on Cole’s shoulder, which initially startles him so much that it flies away, even as he begs for his “new friend” to come back.

Honey and Bea’s conversation dies out eventually. Bea turns to her boyfriend, pouting her lips for a kiss and never letting him part from her for too long. Quinn peppers her face, planting extra kisses on her lips. Everyone ignores them, but they’re all aware of what’s happening.

Honey stares across the circle, letting her gaze fall out-of-focus. She’s tired– Bea and Luke aren’t the only ones who are yawning. She twists a strand of hair around her finger absentmindedly, feeling the way the individual pieces move and bend with her movements.

She forgets that that’s their secret code, her and Trevor. She remembers when she feels eyes on her, finding Trevor. He looks at her, then to her hair, then he looks away.

Honey doesn’t want to fuck tonight, so she stops her movement and picks at a hangnail next to her index finger instead. She’s feeling sluggish, and quite frankly, she just wants to go home. She’d better get on the way before she starts to worry about falling asleep at the wheel. It won’t happen, but Honey would rather be safe than sorry.

She bundles herself in her own blanket, standing from her chair. Through a yawn, she says, “I’m gonna head home, guys. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

A litany of goodbyes follow her, but for the first time since they started hooking up, Trevor does not.

Honey doesn’t realize until she gets all the way home and all the way comfortable in her bed. She’s just about to fall asleep when it dawns on her that she didn’t get a goodnight kiss. He didn’t even react when she accidentally used their sex-code, just looked away. Honey stares at the dark ceiling, blinking to herself.

Her final act before falling asleep is sending Trevor an ‘xoxo’ message, just so he knows that she’s thinking about him. He’s probably not awake, but it soothes Honey enough that she can drift off and start to dream.

55:90 – TREVOR

A truck horn sounds outside, breaking Trevor’s concentration. He had been staring at the potatoes in his breakfast bowl, trying to count the pepper flakes that season it. He’s rapidly running out of things to do in Litchton– it’s always been a problem, but he’s tired of scrolling aimlessly on his phone and waiting for TikToks to load. He hasn’t been to the Nook in a week or two, which means he hasn’t had anything to read. Quite frankly, he’s not like Quinn; he doesn’t want to dust off the books in the living room and crack them open. Books in vacation homes are just decorative.

Jack comes bouncing down the stairs, completely bypassing the kitchen and heading for the front door. Luke isn’t far behind him, although he comes up from the basement carrying the inflatable raft that the two brothers had bought a few weeks prior. The door slams twice behind them, then once more as Cole makes his way outside. Trevor catches a snippet of a creaky old engine running while the door is open.

No one told him they were doing something today. He’ll just sit right here and eat his breakfast bowl until they invite him personally.

He scoops up a spoonful of eggs, cheese, potatoes, and leftover steak from the other night. Upon eating it, he realizes that there’s not enough hot sauce in that bite. He picks up the Texas Pete sauce and douses his bowl, using his spoon to mix everything together and make sure it’s all coated. He hopes it wasn’t too much. His tolerance for hot stuff is moderately high, but too much sauce can ruin his breakfast. He’d hate to have to make it again.

“Trev, c’mon, let’s go,” Bea calls as she bounces down the stairs in twos, just like Jack did.

It’s hardly an invitation.

Quinn goes down the stairs behind her, glancing at Trevor where he sits at the counter. His eyes pass over Trevor, then return to the girl in front of him. They leave the house with the door cracked open behind them.

Trevor allows the cool AC of the house to escape, making no move to get up from his seat. “What happened to ‘Trevor, we’re going out, would you like to come?’” Trevor mocks in a high voice, just to himself. He continues grumbling under his breath as he pokes at the contents of his breakfast.

“No, I said I’ll get him!” comes Quinn’s voice after a minute, becoming more clear as he comes back into the house. He walks into the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest. “We’re going to the lake, come on.”

Trevor takes another bite of his bowl. He doesn’t move from his seat.

Quinn sets his jaw. “Are you coming with us or not?”

Trevor shrugs. “Don’t know. Wasn’t invited.”

“This is an invitation,” Quinn snarls. “So are you coming or not?”

“I’d like to finish my breakfast,” Trevor says. “Can it wait?”

“You can take your breakfast in the truck,” Quinn says through his teeth. “I don’t think Earl will mind, especially if you’re sitting in the bed with the rest of us.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to make a mess in Earl’s truck.”

“If you do, I’ll wash it.”

Trevor’s enjoying this a little bit– Quinn is trying so hard to keep his composure that his nostrils are flaring and his eyes are flashing. Trevor kind of wants to see how much it takes before he snaps.

“We don’t have a hose,” Trevor points out.

Quinn takes a breath. “Then I will buy one.”

“Do you even know where the spigot is?”

It apparently doesn’t take long to find Quinn’s last straw. His patience dissipates when Trevor insults his intelligence.

He walks away. The door slams behind him and Trevor giggles through another bite of his breakfast.

A car door slams shut, then the front door. Good, Trevor thinks. Here comes Bea. I’ll get to chew out both of them. He smiles to himself.

It’s not Bea. He’s not so lucky. It’s his girlfriend, not Quinn’s, and by the looks of her, she’s pissed off.

She nears him and approaches the counter, reaching out and snatching his bowl and dumping the rest of it in the trash can. She practically throws the bowl into the sink, the ceramic clattering louder than he’s ever heard it before.

Honey takes a deep breath, eyes steely as she stares at him. Her hands are planted on the counter, bracketing the sink. She squints, then licks over her teeth, debating how best to deal with this– the scene that Trevor is causing.

“So what, you think I slept with Jack?” Honey snaps. “Because I went upstairs and gossiped with him about Bea and Quinn? Because I sat on his bed, on top of the covers, completely clothed? And that’s why you’re sitting here, pouting.”

“I don’t think you slept with Jack,” Trevor grumbles.

“Good, because that’s deranged,” Honey continues. “I’m not sleeping with Jack. I’m sleeping with you. Well, actually, I won’t be sleeping with you for about a week because you’re being a dick. Get in the car. We’re going to the lake. Or don’t! I don’t give a fuck. I’m driving away from this house in one minute and you can either come with us, or you can sulk all day.” She folds her arms over her chest and stares at him for a few seconds, then turns on her heel and stomps away.

He was so busy going speechless over her little tirade that he didn’t notice that she’s wearing a hot pink bikini top and her daisy dukes. It contrasts her skin nicely and the string in the back leaves little to the imagination.

Yes, Trevor was upset the night before. Yes, he was jealous that Honey went upstairs with Jack and laughed and squealed with him in a way that she’s never done with Trevor. She also completely brushed him off on the phone, saying she was busy and that she’d see him later. She hung up on him. He’s supposed to be angry.

But, then again, he doesn’t want to be in a fight with Honey. It was complete torture to ignore her ‘xoxo’ text message last night, especially since she doesn’t give out affection that often. At least, not where it can be traced back to her. Not when there’s a paper trail and text messages are part of a paper trail– so Trevor really should’ve taken a screenshot of the rare, sweet message from Honey and printed the picture out to put in his wallet.

His minute is almost up. In the interest of making up with Honey, and in the interest of seeing her in her little, hot pink swimsuit, Trevor goes. Honey is literally shifting the car into drive by the time he makes it outside, leaving the front door unlocked because he didn’t have time to grab a key. The car is rolling forward when he manages to hop onto the tailgate, joining the group in the nick of time.

“Nice of you to join us, buddy,” Cole say, clapping Trevor on the back. “No swimsuit?”

“I didn’t know we were going to the lake until five minutes ago,” Trevor says.

“Yuh-huh,” Cole insists. “We talked about it last night. You were there. Glowering.”

“You don’t even know what that means,” Trevor says, partially because he’s not sure what it means. It sounds a little bit like ‘glaring,’ though, so he thinks he’s got the gist of it.

“I do too know it it means,” Cole says. “I asked Bea after she said you weren’t listening because you were too busy glowering. It’s my word of the day.”

“Whatever,” Trevor says, brushing him off and looking over the edge of the bed of the truck. He watches the trees pass and the curve of the road, how the edge of the pavement crumbles off sharply after years of wear and tear.

The rural roads probably haven’t been paved in, what, fifteen years? He’d ask Honey, but she wouldn’t know. Maybe he’ll ask Earl when he sees him in town next. The old man certainly has a gripe about the roads being closed for roadwork– he probably remembers the exact date and how long he sat in traffic in this old truck, cursing at the workers.

They arrive at the lake shortly, piling out of the bed. Honey’s parking job is slightly crooked, but Trevor doesn’t say anything. No one does, considering how hard she slammed the door to the cab of the truck.

She helps Luke carry the tube down to the docks while Bea and Quinn rent a boat. Jack and Cole ask about renting a wakeboard, since they forgot theirs at the house. Trevor trudges after Luke and Honey, his shirt already starting to stick to his back from the heat.

It takes a few minutes, but the other members of the group join them. One of the workers, a teenage boy that reminds Trevor of Quinn the summer before he started at UMich, drives the boat up to the dock and hands the keys off to Quinn. They pile onto the boat and Quinn starts to drive off. Jack ties the raft to a handle on the back of the boat, then the tow-rope to the awning above the console.

Everyone else kind of does their own thing.

Trevor drives the boat because he’s still a little pouty from earlier.

Honey sheds her daisy dukes and lays out at the front of the boat with Bea, tanning her back. Trevor has a nice view of her butt and how her swimsuit doesn’t offer as much coverage as it should, given Quinn is right there. It’s cheeky and Trevor wants to swat at her skin just to watch it bounce– he’s sure that any of the other boys would be thinking the same thing.

On the bright side, Quinn’s got a hand on Bea’s upper thigh. He seems preoccupied, trying to keep his hand in that exact spot until there’s a pale imprint on Bea’s skin. He wants her tan to be uneven, but only in the shape of his hand.

Jack is the real culprit– if anyone was going to look at Honey, it would be him. He’s actually getting ready to toss the raft out behind the boat, so he doesn’t pay any mind to Honey. Cole is with him, donning a life jacket, and Luke is reclining somewhere behind Trevor, soaking in the sun just like the girls.

Trevor slows to a stop and Cole jumps off the back of the boat to swim towards the raft. “Don’t hold back, Z!” He calls as he swims, catching one of the handles of the raft and dragging himself onto the floating device. Once he’s got a good hold on the raft, he tells Trevor to go, and Trevor takes off.

Cole falls off within minutes. Trevor launches him off the raft, but Cole comes up laughing. He tries to outlast his previous round each time he gets on the tube.

They waste over an hour on the tube, switching riders when the current person’s hands get too tired from gripping the handles and trying to stay float. Trevor drives the whole time because, well… he didn’t have time to put on a swimsuit. He’s just got his joggers and his t-shirt, as well as the underwear beneath his joggers. He’s fine with staying clothed all day.

Then, Jack tells Bea and Quinn that they have to do a pairs-run on the tube. They don’t last for more than a minute, maybe, not with Trevor swinging them around and forcing the tube to jump over the wake like a skateboarder in a half pipe. Bea shrieks and falls off the tube first, Quinn following after her to act as her own personal buoy.

Trevor knows that he can’t escape for long. The second Bea climbs back onto the boat, she turns to him. “Trev, you haven’t gone in the water today. C’mon. Switch with Quinn.”

“Honey hasn’t gone in the water either,” Quinn points out.

Honey’s jaw drops and she stares at Quinn, completely aghast. “I didn’t know it was a requirement to get in the water.”

“It’s not fun unless you do,” Quinn replies. “Let’s go. I’ll drive. You guys can do a pair and you’ll get it over with.”

Honey grumbles about it, but Trevor has to admit that he’s right. Lake days aren’t truly fun unless you’re able to swim around.

“Sure, let’s do it,” Trevor agrees, waiting for Quinn to get a hand on the steering wheel before he stands from his Captain’s Chair and sheds his shirt. He looks at Bea when he asks his next question, because he knows this doesn’t matter to the other guys and it’s not like Honey’s never seen him in his underwear. “Do you mind if I wear my briefs?”

Bea sputters out a laugh, blowing a raspberry to wave him off. “I don’t care. As long as you’re not buck-naked, I’m fine. Honey? Do you mind if Trevor wears his briefs? You’re the one who’ll be on the tube with him.”

She covers for them well, making sure that the other girl on the boat gets to voice her opinion. Again, Trevor, Bea, and Quinn all know that Honey wouldn’t care, but in order to save face, they ask anyway.

Honey shrugs. “I don’t care. Just don’t put your dick near me.”

“It’d be kind of funny if he was naked, though,” Cole says. “I’m not saying I want to see it, but it’s a funny image. Tubing with his bare ass out.”

Jack curls his lip. “Yeah, but then his dick would get all over the raft. We’d never be able to use it again.”

“Oh my God, I’m not stripping,” Trevor interrupts. “I’m wearing my underwear, dude.” To Cole, he adds: “Stop thinking about my bare ass!”

Cole gives him a shrug and a smirk. “Is it as smooth as a baby’s bottom, Z? Are you Katy Perry from Teenage Dream? What aesthetic are we going for?”

“I’m going to hit you in the nuts if you don’t shut up.”

“You’d love that.”

“That’s enough,” Honey says. “Stop talking about genitalia. Let’s get this over with. I want time to dry off.”

She dives off the back of the boat, entering the water much more gracefully than Trevor does. No, he gets pushed by Cole after removing his joggers. Does it count as a push if Cole was just trying to pants Trevor and force him to skinny dip, making Trevor fall off the boat while twisting away from his prying hands?

He swims towards the raft, where Honey is already treading water. She’s got a hand on the handle, ready to pull herself up.

“Don’t look at my butt,” Trevor says.

Honey glares at him from the side of her eye. “I wasn’t going to look at your butt. Don’t look at mine.”

She pulls herself onto the raft and Trevor looks anyway. Then, he drags himself up and clenches his fingers around two of the handles. Honey takes the one next to his right hand, just inches away from touching him. Trevor misses her, even though she’s right there.

He takes his hand from the handle and loops his arm around Honey’s.

She turns her head and glares at him again.

“So we don’t fall off,” Trevor supplies.

Honey rolls her eyes and faces forward again. She yells to the boat. “We’re ready!”

Quinn takes off, starting slow, then he speeds up rather abruptly. They’re being jostled by the waves, their knuckles white as they nearly start cramping from holding on so tight.

Honey starts shrieking as they jump over the waves, the lake water blowing in their face. Her hair is whipping around in the wind, smacking Trevor in the face, but he’s smiling so hard that his eyes are crinkling. The sun hits him right in the eyes too, just like the water droplets and Honey’s hair, but it’s so fun. Their arms are linked and they hold on tight.

Eventually, Honey gets a faceful of water and she splutters, using Trevor’s skin to wipe her eyes. She buries her face into their intertwined arms, laughing briefly.

Trevor wishes the other boys knew about them, so that he could kiss her face while they ride the waves– although it would probably be a bump of his chin against her forehead, one that results in a nasty bruise on her skin and a little blood in his mouth from biting his tongue.

After a particularly nasty wave, Honey loses her grip and drags Trevor with her.

They plunge into the water together, fully soaked when they resurface. Quinn drives along, a few hundred feet away before Bea bops him on the side of the head and points at the empty raft. He drives in a big circle, looping back.

Trevor touches Honey’s arm as they tread water, their fingers brushing. She finds his hand again and squeezes his fingers under the water, out of sight.

“Think you should go wakesurfing in a bit,” Honey suggests quietly, just for Trevor to hear. He knows that sound travels over water, so it makes sense that she’s speaking so quietly. “I’m mad at you for being so stubborn, but your thighs look really good in your undies, baby.”

She starts to swim toward the boat, which is finally close enough that they can return to it.

Trevor grabs her ankle. “I told you not to look at my butt!” He exclaims.

“It’s so big, I just can’t help it!” Honey calls back, splashing him with a big kick.

He goes under the water to fix his hair before he finds the boat again and joins the group again. He’s got a new attitude now, like the water was an actual rebirth.

56:90 – HONEY

When Bea and Honey were little, Bea’s oldest sister, Trixie, became obsessed with daily holidays. For Christmas when Bea and Honey were five, she received a calendar that detailed all the fun, quirky holidays that fall on any given day of the year.

July 21st is National “Get Out of the Dog House” Day. When Bea and Honey were that young, they didn’t know what getting out of the dog house meant. They thought it meant that they had to get out of the dog’s house– and Bea’s father regularly referred to her childhood dog, Bronco, as the king of the house.

They insisted on sleeping in tents in the backyard that year. Ironically, Bronco came with them and spent the hot summer night outside, getting a bout of the zoomies that had Honey and Bea yelling and exiling him from the tent until he calmed down. It was so much fun that they’ve tried to recreate the night every year since.

Bronco joined them every year until they were eleven, easily the worst year of all the ones they spent outside. It was very lonely without the massive, fat, entirely non-intimidating Rottweiler to protect them. The following year, they were joined by Bruno, the McLean’s new Rottweiler puppy, named aptly after Bruno Mars when he howled along to one of Mars’ songs on the drive home from the adoption center.

Their best July 21st, after the first, was when they were 16. Trixie had bought a bottle of Smirnoff for Bea for her birthday, but Bea was saving it for her night with Honey. They drank about half the bottle together before they both decided that they felt too nauseous to continue. They giggled and felt warm from the inside out, which really wasn’t necessary considering how hot it was in Charlotte in the middle of the summer. They talked about everything under the sun– reminiscing, talking about boys even though Honey had been in a relationship for months at that point, singing songs, doing dances, everything. Mr. McLean came out to the tent around 2 a.m. and told them they needed to be quiet. Bea threw up in the garden the following morning, trying to hide their sneaky drinking under the cover of leafy plants, and if Bea’s mom ever noticed the vomit, she never said anything.

Even since they’ve been in Litchton, they’ve spent National “Get Out of the Dog House” Day outside. They bought hammocks and strung them up in Honey’s backyard the first year, finding a few trees that were perfectly spaced out. It was one of the traditions that made it out of Charlotte when they left.

Now, their night isn’t complete without a shared bottle of red wine and a charcuterie board, to start. They eat a bunch of terrible snacks as the night goes on and usually drink a warm mug of Bea’s sleepytime tea once the wind picks up and they decide that they need to bring their sleeping bags out, as well as the blankets they use like tortilla shells around a burrito.

This year, they have five new additions to the tradition.

Honey almost wishes that Bruno was here instead. He peed in the tent when he was a puppy, and that’s still more preferable than having five twenty-something year old boys in her backyard and in her house. The only blessing is that they can use the outdoors as their bathroom– so Honey won’t need to disinfect the seat each time she walks inside to use her toilet.

Six bottles of red wine sit on her counter, ready to be shared by seven people. Quinn came over early with Bea and commandeered Honey’s oven, searing steaks and plating salted ham for a homemade charcuterie board and baking chicken breasts that were to be shredded and thrown into her crockpot to make a soup for a late night snack instead of Bea’s sleepytime tea.

Honey doesn’t mind having a personal chef, which is what Quinn basically is, but she wishes they could just eat bag after bag of buttery microwave popcorn until their stomachs hurt.

Honestly, her discomfort is probably rooted in sharing her home for the first time, well, ever. The only people that have come to her house are her parents– who lived there first– Bea, Ada, and Trevor. Sometimes Bea’s ex, Griffin, will come and mow Honey’s grass. That’s only really once a month, and he never comes inside, so it doesn’t count.

Her driveway is full– her car, Bea’s car, and Trevor’s car. Now, there are five boys in her backyard, hanging up their own hammocks in the trees, drinking wine from plastic cups because she’ll be damned if the boys use her good glassware in the outdoors.

They’ve gone through two bottles already, just with the first round of drinks. Cole has a heavy hand and they chilled the bottles for 20 minutes before they left the rental house, which Honey thinks makes the alcohol easier to drink.

It’s been probably thirty minutes since the boys got here. They’ve already taken a tour of her house– she doesn’t like that they went into her bedroom and Cole jumped on her bed– and they’ve started a fire in an old fire pit that hasn’t been used since her dad vacationed in the house.

It’s such a caveman thing to do– I cook food. I build fire. I provide for woman.

Right in line with Honey’s thoughts, Quinn calls to the group from Honey’s back door. “Dinner’s ready!” He announces, returning to the kitchen.

Luke agrees to watch the fire while everyone gets food, saying that he’ll go last.

There are vegetables and dipping sauce like ranch and bleu cheese on the homemade board. There’s steak, salted ham, and all sorts of cheese. There are crackers and different kinds of bread. Even Trevor, who Honey has noticed avoiding Quinn for the past few days, compliments him on the presentation.

“It wasn’t just me,” Quinn replies. “Bea helped too.”

“No, I didn’t,” Bea laughs, grabbing a stack of cucumbers and putting them on her paper plate. “I just sat there and looked pretty.”

“You found the meat thermometer when I couldn’t,” Quinn reminds her.

“Okay, fine,” Bea relents. “I helped with that. But everything else was all you.”

Honey and Jack make eye contact as the two continue to insist that the other was partially or wholly responsible for the meal. Jack widens his eyes like he’s trying to send her a message– ‘They’re making me sick.’

“The meal is nice either way, guys,” Honey offers. “Let’s not make it a whole thing. It’s Get Out of the Dog House Day, not ‘argue about who’s right until someone is thrown into the dog house’ day.”

Trevor laughs, which is nice of him. It wasn’t a particularly good joke, either.

He’s in a better mood now, but that doesn’t mean that Honey’s not still mad at him for being so rude and stubborn the other day. Sometimes, Trevor seems to get so frustrated and annoyed that he either acts out or he completely shuts off. All of it is for attention or to make his presence known.

She and Bea watched some of the boys’ highlights last week at the Nook when there was a lull, and Trevor’s a good player, but he can snap easily. Honey doesn’t like that. She likes it even less when it’s directed at her or her friends– which is exactly what happened yesterday morning.

She likes Trevor a lot, but yesterday, she wanted to rip his hair out of his head and scream at him for acting stupid.

Luckily, it passed. He’s being sweet again, sharing fond little smiles with Honey when he thinks no one is watching. She doesn’t take full credit for solving his bad mood, but once he found an excuse to touch her (“So we don’t fall off,” he said), he was back to himself.

They circle around the fire pit again. Luke goes to get his food. They chat until the golden hour of sunlight disappears into the darkness underneath twinkling stars.

They stargaze when it hits midnight, heads bunched up together as they lay back. They’ve all but finished the bottles of wine; the final one is being passed around in the circle as Trevor points out constellations that the boys seem to have trouble mapping out. Luke and Cole especially complain that all they can see is a blob.

Bea and Quinn are the first to peel off. After drinking the equivalent of 80% of a bottle of red wine, Bea is tipsy and handsy. She had rolled into Quinn’s side and started touching his lower abdomen, sliding her hand under his t-shirt, very clearly signaling to him that she wanted something. Honey had to tell her to stop or leave, and Quinn decided that they would just go to bed. They’re sharing a hammock, which feels like a recipe for disaster. What if one of them rolls over in the middle of the night and rocks the hammock, eventually tipping it and sending them both to the ground, all while dead asleep? That would be a terrible wakeup call.

The fire is already dying out, since they haven’t been tending to it. The chill from the air sends Jack into Honey’s house to find one of her big sweatshirts, since he’s a fool and didn’t bring one. He returns in one of Bea’s big sweatshirts that she left at Honey’s one morning after a sleepover and with the throw pillow from her couch wrapped around him. Cole fights him for it, winning the blanket after he knees Jack in the gut.

Jack starts cussing like a sailor, growling at Cole like he’s cursing him.

“I think you’re overtired, Jack,” Luke interrupts, shooing the boy away. “And drunk. You already got your sweatshirt. Go to your hammock.”

Miraculously, Jack listens and stumbles away.

Luke turns to Honey. “Do you have any other blankets? I’ll take one if you do. I’ll bring one to Jack, too. I’ll make sure everyone gives them back in the morning.”

“Yeah, darlin’,” Honey agrees. “I’ll go grab a few. I think it’s time for us all to go to bed, so I’ll come around and hand off the hammocks. You need anything else?” Her question is directed at all three remaining boys, not just Luke.

Cole shakes his head, grinning smugly as he wraps himself in the blanket. He spins like Dracula, blanket flowing out behind him like a cape until he covers the lower half of his face with his forearm, side-eying Honey as he retreats into the darkness of the woods. He backs away suspiciously, until he backs into a tree and stumbles, nearly falling down.

Honey laughs at him. Luke goes to help him into his hammock, saying that it’s unlikely that he’ll be able to climb into the hammock with all that red wine in his system. Trevor tells Luke to protect his goods because Cole might be just as horny as Bea is after all that red wine. Luke whacks him on the head in reply, which is deserved.

Honey goes into the house to find more blankets. She’s quick to realize that they never even ate the soup that Quinn made– but that’s fine with her. It looks like she’ll have lunch for a whole week. She vows never to bring it up, unless someone– probably Bea– remembers and whines about not getting to eat some of Quinn’s cooking.

She finds four blankets in her linen closet– one for Luke, Jack, Bea and Quinn, and Trevor. Honey tends to sleep better when she’s cold anyway, so she’ll be fine without one. She’s got a makeshift sweat-suit on anyway, with leggings underneath her sweatpants just in case. She’ll be fine.

After making sure all of the doors and windows in her house are locked except for the back door, she makes her rounds with the blankets. Jack is already asleep, somehow, so she just drapes the blanket over his sleeping body and takes a moment to hope that he won’t fall out of the hammock overnight. Honestly, he’s the one that would.

Luke is next, who thanks her quietly. He even tells her that he appreciates that she’s hosting them tonight. He also mentions that he likes her house. Honey loves him like a little brother– he’s so sweet and he behaves so well, even as he’s grown more comfortable around her and Bea and come out of his shell. She can’t wait for Gillian’s granddaughter to arrive tomorrow– Luke’s date with the girl on Tuesday will be so cute. Maybe she and Bea can go spy on him– surely he’ll tell Quinn where they’re going. Even if he doesn’t, there are only so many places in Litchton that he could go. They’ll find him.

She’s hesitant to approach Bea and Quinn’s hammock. Although Honey isn’t religious, she’s positively praying that they’re asleep when she walks up.

They’re not. She can hear the sounds of them kissing as she approaches, cringing because she really doesn’t want to interrupt that.

“Hey,” she hisses, stopping about three feet from their hammock.

Quinn pops his head up, finding her immediately.

Honey holds up the blanket.

His mouth forms an ‘O,’ then he looks down at Bea. “Do you want a blanket?” He asks.

Bea sits up as best she can, looking at Honey. “You can just drop it there,” she instructs. “Quinn’ll come get it in a second. His hands are a little busy right now.”

“I didn’t need to know that,” Honey replies, tossing the blanket to the base of the tree next to their hammock. “Have a good night!”

“Just trying to cross something off my Rice Purity Test,” Bea calls after Honey, laughing when Honey raises her hand and flips Bea off.

Only one blanket remains and it belongs to Trevor. Honey approaches his hammock with a few butterflies in her stomach, just at the thought of seeing her boy while he’s all sleepy and drunk. It’s not the first time she’s seen Trevor like that, but he’s so affectionate when he’s drunk– it makes her feel really special, every single time.

“Trevor,” Honey whispers when she’s just an arm’s length away from the hammock. She reaches out and touches it.

The hammock rustles and nearly flips as she startles him. “Christ, baby,” Trevor replies, sounding louder than he actually is in the darkness. His hammock is farther away from the other boys, at the final pair of trees that are close enough to create a good space for a hammock. “You scared me.”

“Sorry. I brought you a blanket.” Honey holds it out for him.

Trevor takes it, his hand brushing Honey’s. “Thank you. Did you already get everyone else?”

Honey shows him her empty hands. “Yeah.”

“You wanna sleep with me?” Trevor asks. “Bea and Quinn are.”

Honey chuckles under her breath. “They’re boyfriend-girlfriend, Trevor. Also, our relationship is a secret. I can’t be crawling into your hammock and cuddling all night. It would be so weird.”

Trevor pouts. “Everyone is too drunk to care, Hon. They probably won’t even notice.”

“Nice try, but no. I’ll see you in the morning. Stay warm.” Honey touches his hair, fluffing the ends for a moment before she goes off to find her own hammock.

She climbs into the broken-in fabric between her two usual trees. Bea is pretty close by, so she can hear her best friend and Quinn murmuring about something, although she can’t hear what. Luckily, it doesn’t sound like anything dirty is happening anymore, so Honey can sleep peacefully.

So she thought. Perhaps it was the wine that she drank, or the copious amounts of steak and ham that sit like an anvil in her stomach. Regardless, Honey lays in her hammock, waiting for her eyelids to grow heavy. They never do.

She left her phone inside, next to her bed, so she can’t even scroll aimlessly. Not that she’d want to do that necessarily, but she downloaded the Kindle app and hacked into her old account, so she’s been rereading the books she bought years ago and mostly forgot about. It would be nice to read something while she waits to fall asleep, but it’s so dark outside that there’s no hope of being able to see the words in a physical book. She could go inside, but that defeats the whole purpose of getting out of the dog house.

She turns over and tries to sleep for a few more minutes. It feels like forever.

Honey tries her hand at echolocation, trying to figure out which of the boys are snoring in the distance. She eventually decides that the snores that are closer to her are Luke’s, while the ones that are father away are Jack’s. Then, she takes a few minutes to listen out and see if Quinn snores too. He must not, because she can’t hear anything coming from the joint hammock belonging to Bea and Quinn.

She turns onto her back and stares at the stars. She was better at identifying constellations than Luke, Cole, Jack, and Bea. Quinn actually had a knack for identifying the connections between the stars, just based off of Trevor’s words. It’s a shame they’ve never been close friends– Bea and Honey think that they have a lot more in common than they think, although their main difference (that Trevor likes to talk and Quinn does not) keeps them apart.

Honey is so tired, but unable to sleep, that she could cry. She’s so frustrated that she wants to scream.

And she’s getting cold. She thought she would fall asleep before the chill really set in, but here she is. Frustrated, brisk, and tired.

Honey rolls out of her hammock, getting her feet on the ground and standing up. She pulls her long sleeves down, covering her hands and rolling up the ends in her fists to keep the warmth inside.

She creeps over to the hammock that’s farther away from the rest. She touches Trevor’s hammock, trying to keep it stable as she shakes him awake. She feels bad waking him, especially since he looks so cozy and like a sound sleeper.

“Trevor,” Honey whispers, tapping his cheek.

“Mm,” Trevor grunts, turning his head away from her. He’s still mostly asleep– probably a solid 90/10 asleep-or-awake split. “No, Jack. Go ‘way.”

Honey releases a quick breath from her nose, unwilling to laugh aloud at his slurred, sleepy speech. “Trevor, wake up. I don’t want to knock you out of the hammock by accident.” Like a child, she lifts one of his eyelids.

That succeeds in waking him, if only partially. Just enough that he understands where he is and who’s talking to him.

“What, baby?” Trevor slurs, reaching a hand up and rubbing his eyes with a yawn.

“I changed my mind,” Honey says. “Can I sleep with you?”

“C’mon in, gorgeous,” Trevor invites, spreading an arm out so that Honey can climb in and snuggle up to him.

Honey smiles a bit at being called ‘gorgeous’ in her terrible groutfit, especially in the middle of the night after tossing and turning for… hours?

She finds her way into the cot without tipping them over. She’ll have to wake up at first light, but that shouldn’t be too much of a problem. She’s a restless sleeper. She usually wakes up early anyway– likely before any of the other guys would. Definitely before Bea would. It’s a recurring problem.

Trevor smells nice and more importantly, he’s warm. His chest is strong under her hand, and Honey uses his bicep like a pillow. She intertwines their legs and presses a kiss to his side, tickling him. Honey’s already so much closer to falling asleep with Trevor than when she was alone.

“Thanks,” Honey murmurs, burying her face into Trevor’s shirt.

“You couldn’t sleep?” Trevor asks.

“Mm-mm,” Honey replies, her face still hidden against his body. She shakes her head ‘no’ and throws an arm over his stomach instead of resting it on his chest. She pulls him closer and Trevor chuckles, shaking her.

“Well, sleep tight, baby,” Trevor says.

Honey doesn’t reply. He’s like a furnace next to her, pushing her closer to dream-land with every passing second. She just cuddles up next to him and breathes as evenly as she can.

A few minutes later, Trevor interrupts her near-slumber with a quiet question.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing,” Honey says.

“After the fruit stand, do you want to get dinner?” Trevor asks.

Honey feels her head sag for a second with sleep, coming back to herself after a brief falling sensation. “Mm, ‘kay,” she agrees with a one-shouldered shrug. “I want pizza.”

“Okay, baby,” Trevor says with another laugh, shaking her. Honey whines, tugging his shirt until he stops laughing. “We’ll go get pizza.”

“Good.” Honey feels Trevor kiss her forehead, then face the sky again. She tells him, “Go to bed. I’m sleepy.”

“Couldn’t tell,” Trevor teases. “Don’t drool on me in your sleep.”

“You would be so lucky.”

It doesn’t take long for them to fall asleep after that. Honey feels just one more kiss on her forehead from Trevor. She has only good dreams.

note: I love HoneyTrev. I love Beaquinn. I hope you all loved this chapter too. Now I am moving onto 13 or so oneshots that I am determined to write before I even THINK about Chapter 9 of STG (but let's be real– I like HoneyTrev and Beaquinn too much to ignore them. They're always on my mind.)

ok love you guys, as always, pls hit me up with your feedback and thoughts on this chapter!! i love to talk about stg and it makes me feel really happy when you all give me something to talk about– otherwise i feel like i'm posting this for The Void and that's no fun. ok. bonsoir.

35 notes · View notes

millenialfanfictionaddiction · 2 years ago

Text

Comparing You to Their Ex-Girlfriend

Featuring Osamu

Osamu Miya x Fem! Reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: swearing, arguing, under appreciation, mentions of ex’s, mentions of alcohol, Atsumu being the voice of reason 😵‍💫

AN: I’ve been wanting to continue this series for a while and I figured who better than our favorite Twin, Osamu 🥰

*Atsumu fans please don’t come for me, I adore him I promise 🥺

You and Osamu had been dating for a little over a year and what a year it’s been. Filled with tons of highs and equal lows, you and Osamu had navigated it all together.

When you’d first met Osamu, he had just opened his first Onigiri shop and things were hectic, but you somehow made it work. You’d visit him whenever you could, stop by to support his business and even stay late helping him clean up after close. You were the epitome of a perfect girlfriend and yet, sometimes it felt as if your good deeds went unnoticed.

You knew Osamu didn’t purposely ignore you, he was just busy being a business owner. The stresses of the early mornings and equally long days were hard on him. Still, you wished he’d occasionally throw a “thank you” or a “what would I do without you babe” your way. Nevertheless, you continued to thanklessly help your boyfriend whenever and wherever you could.

On one particularly busy Friday night, you swung by the shop to help Osamu close up, excited that he was leaving the shop in the care of his valued employees so you could spend so much needed quality time together. You pushed open the door, announcing your arrival as you did most everyday, only this time, you were not met with your usual chipper boyfriend.

“I’m here!” You shouted, the door sitting behind you as you placed your coat and purse on the coat rack besides the door, a welcome addition to the cozy little shop. The kitchen door slammed open as Osamu immediately started in on you.

“Dammit Yn you are so late! What took you so long? I’ve been cleaning all by myself!” He shouted as you looked at him, a bit taken aback by his hostile attitude.

“Geez Mr. Grumpy, I’m sorry I’m late but the train was packed, and I had to wait for the next one. I did text you,” you clarified, walking over to the counter as Osamu huffed and turned heading back into the kitchen as you followed.

“Well, I sent everyone home early because I assumed you were coming to help me, but I guess I shouldn’t have because I pretty much did everything myself,” he growled as you stood by the kitchen sink, eyes narrowed on your unusually hostile partner. He was never this mean, never this rude to you.

“Samu, I said I was sorry, ok? Geez it’s not like I don’t come and help you every day after I work a full 8 hours. I even take the train opposite my normal station just to be here to help,” you recalled, trying to keep your cool. Surely something had happened today to warrant this.

“You act like I’m forcing you to be here Yn! Like I’m making you help me out with my store!” Osamu exclaimed as you crossed your arms over your chest. You were done being patient and forgiving.

“I never said that Samu! I offer to help you and I’m always glad to help but you don’t need to yell at me especially when you can’t even spare a thank you half the time for all that I do for you!” You roared, pissed off that he seemed to be blaming you for the free help you offered him.

“Don’t act like you're such a saint Yn! You weren’t here through any of the hard stuff like Amy was! Now she was a real saint!” Osamu hissed as your eyes widened and you took a step back.

Amy was Osamu’s ex-girlfriend and someone you had always felt inferior too. When you had met Osamu, he had told you about how Amy had left him shortly after opening his restaurant, stating that he never had time for her. Osamu was a broken man when you met him, and you worked to help pick up the pieces. He worked long hours, sometimes 7 days a week just to avoid being alone. When you came into the picture, that all changed as you helped him manage his store and make time for himself, cherishing every small moment you had with him.

Tears welled in your eyes as you stood tall, your eyes locking with Osamu’s as you spoke, “Well if Amy’s such a saint, then why don’t you call her up and ask her to come help you close shop because I’m done!”

You pushed open the kitchen door, quickly moving to grab your purse and coat as you swiftly left Onigiri Miya. Osamu stood still as a statue, his mind flooded with guilt as the words he had spoken to you rang over and over in his mind. He snapped from his stunned state, running to the door as he made his way outside to try and catch you.

“YN!! YN!” He shouted, the streets flooded with people as he looked all around for you, only you weren’t answering him, you weren’t there.

You cried as you walked to the train station, your vision blurred from the mascara that flooded your eyes and cheeks. You sat down on the train, pulling your phone out and calling Atsumu.

Your relationship with Atsumu had been relatively strong since he visited his brother's restaurant often with his teammates. You valued Atsumu’s opinion no matter how idiotic it might be at times. The phone rang as you waited for the star setter to answer his phone.

“Hey YN, what’s up?” Atsumu cheered as your voice broke, and you started crying harder.

“A-Atsumu,” you agonized over the phone as the atmosphere of your phone call suddenly changed.

“YN! What the hell? Are you ok? Where’s Osamu?!” He shouted as you began crying harder, surely clearing the entire train car with your blubbering.

“I-I think Osamu is still in love with Amy!” You cried harder, a sigh escaping Atsumu before he spoke.

“Trouble in paradise? I always told you that you were too good for him Yn, but I’m confused, why do you think he’s still in love with that squealing pig? She left him!”

“He-he told me that I’m not as good as she was and that-that I’m not supportive like she w-was,” you responded, snot now running down your nose as you wiped it on your coat sleeve, not even caring how you looked.

“YN, Samu can be a jerk sometimes, trust me but he loves you. There’s no way he would go back to Amy after all the shit you do for him.”

“Well, he never acknowledges all the help I give him, nor does he ever say thank you!” You shouted back as Atsumu sighed again, rubbing his temple.

“Samu adores you YN and he always brags to me how you come after work to help him and how you stay super late just to make sure he gets out at a decent time. He really does appreciate you Yn,” Atsumu countered as you rolled your eyes, frowning angrily that Osamu bragged to everyone about how you helped him but yet never seemed able to spare a single word of appreciation.

“Yeah, well now he’s going to have to figure it out himself because I’m done! And don’t try to talk me out of it Atsumu, your brother is such a fucking asshole!”

“Hey Yn, you ain’t telling me anything new. I’ve been telling people he’s an asshole for 20 some years!”

You talked with Atsumu for a few more minutes before arriving at your home station. You bid him a farewell as you made your way home, swinging by the connivence store to grab booze and drink snacks to drown your sorrows.

Osamu locked up his shop, his mind elsewhere as he made his way back to his apartment. He had been on autopilot since you’d run out, the words he spoke continuously looping in his mind. How could he have said those things? He no longer harbored any feelings for Amy and hadn’t for a long time. He knew shortly after he met you that you were the one for him. You were just as devoted to his dream as he was, and you were always so happy to help him in any way you could.

His phone rang as he entered his apartment. He was hoping it was you but instead he was greeted by the annoying picture of his twin brother flashing on the screen.

“What?” Osamu growled, answering his phone as he heard a chuckle coming from the receiver.

“Messed up big time didn’t ya?” Atsumu laughed as Osamu grew more annoyed by the second.

“What the hell did you call for?” Osamu hissed back as Atsumu cleared his throat, his tone suddenly becoming serious.

“Just wondering how you're going to make it up to her. You really did it this time man. She called me completely heartbroken from the train station,” Atsumu responded as Osamu felt his chest tighten. Sure, he had felt like a jerk before but now he felt like a complete asshole.

“What do I do Sumu? I love her and I really fucked up this time. I brought up Amy which was a fucking low blow and I know it. Worst of all, YN is a million times more supportive than Amy ever was,” Osamu acknowledged, sitting on the stool at his kitchen counter.

“We’ll have you told Yn that?” Atsumu asked as Osamu played with a pen on the table.

“Told Yn what?”

“God you really are an idiot! And here everyone thought I was the stupid one! Have you told Yn how much you appreciate everything she does for you? How she comes after working all day to help you clean up? Or how she makes sure you get out at a decent time? Or even how she stands outside advertising your stupid new onigiri recipes that sometimes taste like absolute garbage?”

Osamu paused, looking up and staring at the picture of the two of you outside of Onigiri Miya. It was one of the first pictures you’d had taken together, and it was right after whirlwind sales day. His mind tried to recall all the times he had thanked you and all the things he had done to show his appreciation. His mind came up blank.

“Fuck! Fuck I haven’t even told her thank you once!” Osamu shouted, grabbing his keys and running from his apartment to the street below.

“Damn not even once Samu? And people say you’re the nice twin?”

“Shut up ya idiot!” Osamu snapped as Atsumu chuckled.

“Go make it up to your girl, ok? But remember who saved your relationship! I want an Onigiri named after me!”

Osamu ignore his brother as he quickly hung up the phone and ran to the station, tapping his feet as he waited for the train to arrive. Thankfully it wasn’t busy as he boarded and waited for your stop.

He ran from the train, booking it across the city as he made his way to your apartment. He took the steps two at a time as he pounded on your door, out of breath as he waited for your answer.

The door opened slightly, your eyes narrowing on his as you slammed the door right in his stupidly handsome face. Alright he definitely deserved that.

“YN please! Please baby- please just listen to me. I know you hate me, and you have every right too. I was a completely selfish jerk, and I said some awful things to you. I’ve taken advantage of all your help and kindness, and I haven’t even bothered to once acknowledge it. The truth is that you’ve done way more for me than anyone ever has, even Atsumu. You loved and supported me and never once complained about it,” he breathed out, tears welling in his eyes as he continues,” I know I don’t deserve you YN but please just know that I love you and I wouldn’t be where I am today without you.”

Behind the door, your eyes flooded with tears again as you listened to his words. You loved Osamu more than anything and while his words stung, you knew he said them out of anger. While it still didn’t make it right, he had come all this way to apologize so the least you could do was hear him out. You turned around, opening the door as you peeked at him, his beautiful eyes meeting yours.

“What you said hurt Samu. It gutted me when you brought her up,” you cried as Osamu deflated. He knew what he said stung. He hadn’t met for his anger to get out of control like that. He knew he had to fix this.

“I’m so incredibly sorry for bringing her up Yn. I don’t have any excuse for what I said. Amy never gave me what you give me. She never supported my dream like you do and that’s why I love you so much Yn. You’re it for me,” he whispered as your eyes again flooded with tears and you opened the door, pulling him into an embrace.

“I love you too Samu and I’ve only ever wanted to see you happy. I love helping you and I don’t need praise all the time but sometimes it would be nice,” you responded as he pulled you in right, holding you close as if you would disappear if he were to let go.

“I can do that Yn, I can definitely do that.”

394 notes · View notes

i4oba · 8 months ago

Text

mark as… 💭 / your college friend !? ⊹◞✿

your first ever lecture being anthropology, out of all options, was pretty much chaotic and a really humbling experience

you kind of felt lost?? with the lecturer throwing in some of his own antics, with a little too much of little pop culture doses

i mean, he was trying??? talking about batman all of a sudden, comparing a pretty much real theory to his logo or something

(not that you didn’t mention that during that really crazy one on one oral exam… BUT STILL?)

now that’s how you got to know mark lee

i mean, not during the exam, waaaay before that – the first lecture, being just as confused as you, he was.. probably trying to look for someone who was taking notes (preferably good ones at that)

and that’s when your eyes met his!

i guess the panic was so evident in the look you gave him, he just.. couldn’t help but laugh loud asf at your CONFUSED face

i mean, if it was the other way round, you would’ve laughed as well, what can i say..

but still, you had to whisper shout at him (which was weird in the middle of the lecture, being literal meter away from each other) ?? telling him to stop the shenanigans or else you’ll throw hANDS!!!????

(you ended up not doing that – you decided his face was too cute… yeah… pathetic…)

anyways… he literally waited !!!!!!! for you not so far from the lecture hall after it was finished and.. he kind of just??? approached you when he saw you exiting, face representing the Thousands of questions you were left behind

i mean, he felt the same kinda–

but anyways, it was quite.. awkward when you two first interacted. he didn’t really know what to say, you couldn’t really respond to him since all he could muster out was

well.. it sounded stupid

(because he was nervoussssss–i mean, who wouldn’t be when they are trying to hit on a pretty girl like you.. DUH?)

he ended up asking for your notes though.. but it was strategic, you know???

you gotta slide into his dms that way!!!!!! so he can try again!!!!!! (a little bit harder maybe idk)

i mean, you agreed but had a suspicious look while nodding, still trying to figure out his intentions

it really wasn’t clear honestly, he seemed so weird at first, and then he was friendly, offering help around the campus, and then suddenly he wanted to chat???

YOU HAD EYES OF COURSE. even at the omnious, freaking awful freshmen camp you couldn’t spot anyone that looked even half as good as him

but still…

he had that kinda “pretty boy next door” type of vibe which you honestly adored–probably that’s why you agreed on going to that party as well, he invited you to

it was silly of you, of course, and you couldn’t not notice the confused looks of your dormmate

you two knew each other for like.. 2 days and she was suddenly acting like your mother

“ughhh… that dude, you know, that johnny fella has that kind of reputation on campus…”

WHO THE FUCK IS JOHNNY!!!!!!!??????

“he’s a compsci major” she said, shrugging

“that’s literally where the fuckboys are at”

you were like What.. are yoU EVEN SAYING LMFAO

(every compsci major dude i’ve ever seen was a loser though… ?)

where she got that information???OUT OF HER ASS????

later on, like two days had to pass at most???? maybe just one and a half??? and she got invited as well–some chenle dude and her went to the same seminar and things just happened

not her opinion changing.. lol

but it was set now that you two are going together! mostly because she knew you don’t have any friends so.. she might as well help you out–that’s the least she can do after you two changed beds

she kind of made you out to be a loser that way.. like WHAT! YOU HAVE Friends… just

having a major on a different campus.. BUT STILL THE SAME SCHOOL!!!

she was always giving you that weirded tf out look whenever you mentioned it. like okay girl, go off, say whateva lol

but she felt the need to accompany you (GOD BLESS HER TBH)

looking all hot and stuff, you two both paid a visit to the house party which was… honestly pretty boring looking at first

like yeah, just a couple of dudes, not hype enough music either

you expected some kind of shitty techno untz untz music like in those german clubs

those are HYPE. or the eastern european clubs’ music.. elite tier i swear

but you got none of that, only a silly and honestly pretty mid ?? spotify playlist

it’s like giving the aux to someone who only listens to tiktok music like BFFR

right before you were about to leave this horrible gathering, you spotted mark, having a really heated conversation with a Damn Tall boy, snapback on both of their heads

they kind of looked like a couple lmfao OR TWINS

you were hesitant whether you should go and greet him but there was no actual reason that could pull you back

since your roommate literally found someone from her sociology 101 lecture and literally vanished from the surface of earth

Leaving you alone, with a horrible mix of vodka and some other shit you would’ve spit out if only there weren’t too many people

so yeah, there wasn’t any other choice you could’ve made, outside of leaving way too early

that’s how you ended up in the conversation with mark (and, later on you found out, johnny, who wasn’t actually that big of a douchebag your roommate had explained)

it was nice honestly, you got a chance to expose some Drama from high school, you got to talk about your arch nemesis (who attends the same college as you) and some other, unimportant stuff

but they were soooo interested it made you feel??Idk special or something

it really isn’t that frequent that you can shittalk and someone wouldn’t shut you up

and that is why you got back to mark every time–he listened. not only the funny bits of your life, he listened to everything you had to say: your life, school and problems with coursework (he even offered to help), and yeah..

lovelife as well.

you got together with someone from the same major as you–jaehyun.

he was funny, and charming, absolutely adorable and such a great lover??? And then… and then yeah

shit happened, like it always does and you were officialy Heartbroken

you couldn’t really handle it, even though it wasn’t your first time

(in high school, you dated one of the jocks and then got surprised he cheated on you like Dude those are infamous player lmfao…)

so the first person you went to was

your roommate! But she was busy as hell with assignments and exams so she kind of.. I mean she tried to help, but half of her attention was on you, and the other half glued to the monitor of her computer, reading stuff for her research paper

so you went to the second choice of yours–mark lee. but you didn’t mention that fact to him.. it would’ve hurted his heart deeply

you two went to the movies after you raged a little, cried a little into his shoulder and begged him to punch jaehyun in the face

he figured you should focus on something fun, instead of the self deprecating shit you’ve been on lately

and he was Absolutely Fully (ahah!) Truly right

you bought a ticket to the first movie you two saw, not even paying attention what it actually was

(it was a damn horror movie which was So Fucking scary you BOTH were left trembling from fear… pus-)

he used this fact for his own good… he invited you over… to his dorm… since his roommate went home for the weekend…

and the funniest thing is that you agreed, hurriedly messaging your friend, telling her not to wait for you, then ignoring ALL of her furiously typed down responses and calls even

she needed to focus ANYWAYS

so that’s how you ended up in mark’s dorm room… Yeah, yeah yeah

some might say it’s pathetic, some might say you’re dumb as Hell but what could you doooooo

he was looking at you with that extra adorable puppy look on his face… how could you resist

there was no way you could say no, it would’ve been heartless ????????

and you know what would’ve been even MORE heartless?????? Not giving a kiss on his beautiful lips that were literally SCREAMING for yours

It may or may not have been a bad choice but you couldn’t care less… suddenly you felt at ease, kissing him vigorously over and over again

soft hair between your fingers, his breath on your lips and sparkling eyes looking at you

maybe… maybe he was more?? Than a friend

(your roommate was about to slap you right then and there when you told her about the story though…)

#nct dream #mark lee #nct dream imagines #nct dream headcanons #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream stories #nct dream x reader #mark lee imagines #mark lee headcanons #mark lee scenarios #mark lee stories #mark lee x reader

79 notes · View notes

rveyjules · 1 year ago

Text

A Second Chance

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Prime Minister's Daughter! Reader (ft. Ada Wong)

Genre: Smut, Romance, Angst

Warning: cheating, Leon is obsessed with the reader, taking photos, the reader is cold but deep inside she’s a sweetheart, mentions of arranged marriage, pure smut (masturbation, foreplay, kissing, breasts fondling and sucking, markings, p in v intercourse, virgin sex, penetrative sex, Leon is huge [I think it's at least 9 inches, sheesh], creampie, aftercare)

Word Count: 4.8k+

Summary: As the eldest daughter of the Prime Minister and one of the faces of the family, you received multiple assassination attempts. So, your father hired someone to keep an eye on you. And to your surprise, out of all people, it was Leon Kennedy your father picked for you. You and Leon had a secret relationship but soon did not last because another woman came into his life. Now that the both of you meet again, will it be the start of chaos or a continuation of romance?

author's note: This is the third part of my story. It was supposed to be posted yesterday but then our internet went oops. This story is entirely fictional. I do not know exactly what the President and the Prime Minister do for the country. It is the same with the occupation of being a prosecutor and the chief of the CIA. English is not my mother tongue, so please don't hesitate to let me know if you encounter mistakes and grammatical errors. This is only for entertainment purposes only. And minors, please do your homework first.

Part 1 Part 2

—

“I need to talk to you,” You started in a stern tone.

Okay, change of plans, you thought. Leon nodded and stood aside and let you in. You went inside, looking around his apartment unit. His place was dimmed, reflecting his personality. You heard him close the door and approached you.

“How did you know that I am living across from your place?” He asked and you scoffed.

“Isn’t this place included in your address in your personal data? I checked it.” You replied looking around his place.

He does not have too much stuff. A TV, couch, coffee table, and a carpet in the living room. His kitchen has a stove, oven, a sink, and a dish organizer. And his room which you are expecting to be neat and tidy with a closet, a comfortable bed, a desk with whatever he has.

“I won’t stay too long. I just want to tell you some things.”

“Well, you don’t need to go here. You can just call me.”

“But I want to see you personally,” With your answer, Leon smirked and crossed his arms to his chest, looking at you with his brow raised. You cleared your throat and continued. “I mean, you are my bodyguard so I believe there’s nothing wrong if the boss personally visited her employee.”

“Since when did you start explaining yourself?” Leon smirked, making you speechless.

You don’t like explaining yourself when you have made a decision and this time is beyond unexpected. “Are you questioning my decision to explain myself? Your face brightened up when I said I want to meet you personally but the reason why I am here is to tell you something.”

“And what is it, sweetie?” He added.

“Stop with the nicknames, Leon. I am not playing around with you. I just want to warn you that David is getting suspicious of us. Your gestures are crossing the line of the relationship of the boss and her bodyguard. If David noticed it, what more when the people do?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t you think because your former bodyguards don't show how bodyguards must act protective like I do around you? No wonder bullets managed to be fired without the guard realizing that someone has threatened your life.”

“Leon, I know that you are trying to get closer to me again. Your blazer jacket won’t protect me from bullets.” You rebutted.

“Hah! That’s what you thought! That blazer jacket is bulletproof. The President gave it to me personally. Don’t you appreciate the President’s effort to protect you?”

“I do appreciate him!” You snapped. “And why are you talking back to me? I am your boss! You have no right to— hmph!” Leon interrupted you by cupping your cheeks and pressed his lips against yours, kissing you lovingly.

You were surprised by the sudden action and tried to push him away but Leon didn’t let you. Instead, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and waist, bringing you closer to him. He truly missed you, he missed kissing you, he missed embracing you into his arms. Slowly, you give in to him. You did not kiss him back but you did not pull away or attempt to push him away. You just let him be.

The kiss lasted until both of you needed to pull away to breathe. Leon was smiling at your flushed expression and kissed your cheek. “Don’t scold me anymore. I understand that you are just protecting your image. But please also understand why am I being affectionate of you aside from protecting you from harm luring around.”

“That’s because I am marrying David,” You added. “I don’t want to look like I am being unfaithful to my fiance.”

“You’re just using him as your excuse. Too bad that trick of yours did not work on me.”

He’s right. Including David in this conversation is just your way of hiding the reason why you go there. You wanted to confront him already. You have a lot of questions in your mind that are still unanswered. You badly want them to be solved right away. Seeing Leon after fifteen years is unbearable for you. And he knows it.

Leon felt that you were tearing up, unable to express the feeling you wanted to express. You felt weak, feeling the lump forming in your throat that prevents you from speaking. He hugged you, resting your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat. You stayed like that, feeling each other’s warmth.

“I hate you… so much.” You whispered.

“And I love you more, darling.” He replied, gently tilting your head up and pressing his lips against yours, kissing you deeply.

—

The next day, you went to the White House after receiving a call from the President that there’s something that needs to be discussed regarding the conflict between the US and Russia. The meeting took three hours. You gave suggestions and the President appointed specific government agencies to settle things first with Russia before deciding if there will be a war if Russia did not agree on the agreement that was prepared by the US. Being the President’s secret weapon is a big responsibility. He trusts your plans and suggestions along with other government agencies. You are one of the representatives of the US in the UN. Other world leaders acknowledged your presence. And that’s the proof that you are one of the most powerful women in the world.

You are now currently in the waiting room, alone while reading a book. The President told you to wait for your father to come as he needs to attend another meeting with the councils. While waiting, you heard the door open. You turned your head and saw David, grinning from ear to ear.

“So, how is the show? Shall I give you an award as the Outstanding Seductress of All Time?” He teased you as he closed the door behind him and walked towards you.

You rolled your eyes on him, “I did your advice. Where’s my $100,000?” You asked directly to the point. David gasped at you. “You seriously went naked and danced while your stalker was watching?!”

“For the sake of $100,000, I did.”

“What?! Seriously?!” David couldn’t believe that you actually did that and be unbothered at the ridiculous action you made.

You did not regret it. Knowing that your stalker was always keeping an eye on you whether it was private or out in public. You flipped the page of the book and smirked. “If I were you, I wouldn’t include money if you’re making a dangerous bet with a woman like me. So, yeah. $100,000 must be added to my bank account right now.”

“Fine,” David grinned and pulled out his phone and opened his bank app and sent you the money.

Your phone dinged, saying that you received the money already. You opened your phone and to your surprise, David only sent you $1. You shoot him a death glare and close the book. David loves annoying you and he knew that he fucked up.

You pounced on him, sitting on his lap and took his phone out of his grasp. Thankfully, his phone isn’t locked yet so you tapped some icons to send money. David moved, trying to grab his phone back but you shoved him off and stood up to proceed in sending the money to your account.

“Yah! Give me my phone!” David whined. You ignored him and sent the $99,999 left to complete the $100,000 bet.

After successfully sending the money, you press the home screen and to your surprise, you are David’s wallpaper. You smirked and looked at him, showing his wallpaper. “What is this?” You teased me.

“Give it back to me!” David hissed, attempting to take his phone back but you ran around the room while he was trying to get his phone back. You keep running until David pounces on you, causing you to fall to the floor.

Both of you are wrestling each other with loud noises coming from your mouths. Leon, who came back to the White House after dealing with some stuff, went to the waiting room where you are in. He got inside of the room without knocking and then… his heart dropped to his stomach. He saw David being on top of you. You felt his presence so you decided to give the phone back to David and pushed him off you.

“O-oh… Agent Kennedy!” David greeted him, still trying to reach for his phone, meaning that he was moving his body against yours that was inappropriate for Leon.

In the end, David grabbed his phone from your grasp and got off you. You scoffed and stood up, fixing your skirt. Leon was stunned, seeing you in a submissive position under David. He cleared his throat and spoke…

“Miss L/n, your father has arrived.” There’s a jealousy in his voice. He couldn’t even look you in the eye.

“Alright, I’m coming.” You went to the couch and grabbed your purse before leaving the door with Leon, tailing behind you.

—

As usual, you did not have a good conversation with your dad. He was still persuading you to marry David to keep the family’s legacy and to be powerful in the future. He was planning to run for the position of the President after the current President’s term ends. Having you beside him is a big advantage. With your influence, he trusts your plans to make him successfully reach the top.

You would help your father, yes. But he is crossing the boundary already. He had been pressuring you ever since. Even after you survived the apocalypse, your father did not even ask you how you are. Instead, he scolded you for going there and accused you of seeing someone in that city. Well, yes. Leon’s the reason why you go there. You went to Raccoon City to congratulate him personally on his first day as a police officer. But then, shit happens.

There are times where you’d glare at him behind his back. He looks like he’s a good family man in public, smiling at children and wife. But behind closed doors, he was a demanding father. He’s expecting his children to bring him fortune and help him climb the political ladder. That’s why his children studied Law. But among his children, you are the most unfavored one.

Your father argued about your arranged marriage with David. You received a lot of hurtful words. You were used to it but this time… you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You are nothing but a disgrace in this family! After all the things I’ve done for you—” He said but you interrupted him. “You’ve done nothing but to bring me pain, Papa!” You snapped at him.

Your father was shocked to hear you talking back to him.

“I’ve done everything for you, Papa! I did everything you told me to do! But it’s too much…” You lowered your voice as tears started falling down your eyes.

“Why are you crying? I am not even giving you a reason to cry!” He yelled at you.

“You did a lot of times, Papa! There are a lot of reasons for me to cry but there’s only one cause and that’s you! No one has given me this kind of pain but my own father! You never comforted me after I survived the zombie apocalypse in Raccoon City! You wanted me to be like this and to be like that and I did because I am your obedient daughter! And you always turn your back on me when I need you the most…” You sobbed.

“For you, I am not your daughter, but your retirement plan.”

After that, you left your father in pain. You asked Leon to bring you home. You told the executive secretary to tell the President that there’s an urgent meeting in the law firm as well as you need to do something in the CIA. Leon knew that something wasn't right despite his jealousy. Your eyes were telling him that you needed someone to lean on. And in your case, no one knows what kind of comfort you need. Not Ashley, not David, the President, or even your own family.

During your ride, you fell asleep without noticing because of exhaustion. Leon saw you sleeping in peace so he decided to go to McDonald's drive thru to buy some food for you to eat when you wake up. Back then, when you are still together, eating relieves your stress. That’s why you’d ask him to buy you food when he comes home from the Police Academy. He remembers every detail of what to do when you are in this kind of situation. He also bought you sodas, juices, and chocolates because you have a sweet tooth.

While he was out, buying you chips from the convenience store, you stirred awake. You were quite confused why the hell are you in the parking lot of a convenience store. You peeked out and found Leon inside with bags of your favorite chips in his arms, walking to the counter. You smiled a little, realizing that he remembers what to do when you felt uneasy. When he was coming back, you returned to your sleeping position and closed your eyes, pretending to sleep.

You heard the door open and Leon get inside, looking at your sleeping figure. He smiled and held your hand for a second before putting the plastics of chips and drinks in the passenger seat beside his seat. He closed the door and drove away to the place where you can be free and ease the heavy feeling you have.

The ride was so long that you fell asleep again. When you woke up, it was already sunset. Leon wasn’t in the driver’s seat which confused you. You peeked out of the window and found that you are on top of a mountain where you can see the beautiful city lights that started to spew. You got out and looked around your surroundings. Leon was there, standing staring into the peaceful city.

“Leon, where are we?” You asked, approaching him. “You’re going to kill me?” You asked.

“Of course not. If I do, then it would also be the death of me.” He chuckled.

You turned to your side and looked into the city from afar. It was so peaceful here. Only the sounds of wind blowing making your hair dance in the air calms you, slowly losing the heavy feeling you have due to your argument with your father. Even without saying it, Leon felt it. He smiled that he somehow helped you ease your mind from the stressful work you have in the city.

After a long silence, you decided to confront him already regarding your complicated relationship with him. This is the perfect time for your questions to be answered…

“Why did you come back?” You asked.

Leon looked at you and found you looking to afar, waiting for his response.

“If I tell you the reason, will you believe me?”

“That depends on your answer whether it was acceptable for me or not.” You replied.

“Y/n, are you still angry at me?” He asked.

“Yes. I answered your question, now answer mine.”

“I’ll answer it at the right time.”

“Isn’t this the right time for me to know?”

“Yes. I will tell you but not now.”

“Okay, another question. Were you stalking me?” You asked, catching Leon off guard.

“What?” He asked, surprised. You looked at him and scoffed.

“Don’t ask me that or even give me that look as if I was wrong. You even put cameras around my place to keep an eye on me. Shall I compliment you for being a protective bodyguard, Agent Kennedy?” You asked sarcastically.

“I knew that you had intentions why you accepted the offer to become my bodyguard. But I want you to know that I never needed anyone to save me in the first place. I’ve survived five assassination attempts and none of them was successful. Most especially, I never wanted to see you again.” You said, without hesitation.

“Now you know the truth, you can shut up already. Just go and eat the food I bought for you.” Leon responded, trying to change the topic again. He knew that this would end up into something worse so he wants to stop it before it occurs.

“See? Even now… you’re avoiding my point again. You’re pushing me away. But what can I expect from you? You’re nothing but a traitor. You’re selfish!” Feeling yourself out of control, those words slipped out of your mouth and tears clouded your eyes.

“Enough, Y/n…” He warned you but you keep pushing his buttons.

“Isn’t it true?! You’re selfish! You’re a liar! A cheater!” You called him such names that made him lose his patience so he yelled.

“I said enough!” He shot you a glare. It silenced you.

“You have no idea how much I regret leaving you that night, Y/n! I am having nightmares not because of that zombie outbreak or even Ada but you! Because I still care about you! Morning, noon, and night, I care about you!”

You retorted, “After fifteen fucking years, Leon! After betraying me for a manipulative woman, you got the nerve to say that you cared about me!” Tears started to spill out of your eyes. “You know that you can decline the President’s offer to recommend you to the Prime Minister to become my bodyguard but why did you come back? Why did you think of coming back? Why did you accept the offer?”

“I want to protect you, Y/n. I badly want to protect you. I’ve been working secretly to capture those bastards who tried to assassinate you, ordered by the President. And yes, you are right! I could’ve declined the offer already but I didn’t because I care about you!”

“I wish you knows how badly you fucked me up that night. You know I don’t deserve that. My only mistake was that I made you my priority when I was just your second choice.” You sobbed. “Everytime I look at you, I keep wondering how you felt when you left. I wonder if you had any regrets when you escaped without me. You know to yourself that I loved you more than anything. I wanted to keep you safe. That's why I didn’t hesitate to point my gun to Ada when I found out her secret. But you doubted me, Leon. You doubted my love and devotion to you.”

Leon listened to your cries that you have been keeping for months. Among the two of you, you are the most affected one. That's why you got into this point. It was all because of him that’s why you became this way.

“I gave you my four years. Even though I was just a teenager, I do know that I love you with all of my heart. I loved you for four years, Leon. And in those four years, it’s just that one time I got tired. Tired of seeing you being with Ada. I was tired of pretending that your flirtings are fine with me to not be called paranoid and delusional. It’s just that one time I asked myself if I still can fight. It’s just that one time, in the many times I could have given up, but I didn’t. One time I had the courage to tell you how I felt. That I was hurt and even losing myself. I needed you to fight for us that night. Because I was so tired of fighting alone. To fight, that even if I tell you to leave, you wouldn’t leave. That even if I pushed you away, you’d go back to me and embrace me in your arms. Because you know me. I just said that because I was tired but I love you, Leon! I still love you!”

“I’ve been longing to come back and apologize to you,” Leon replied. “Even now that I am working under the President’s order to keep an eye on you, I still don’t have the courage to tell you how sorry I am. Before the government wiped out Raccoon City, I planned to come back and look for you with hopes that I will see you again. But I was too late to find out that the government had finalized the plan. They already dropped a deadly bomb before I knew it.”

“That’s why when Ashley mentioned you to me when I was saving her in Spain, I felt encouraged and relieved to hear that you survived. I waited a lot of years to find the perfect time to face you. And this job as your bodyguard is my only way. I still love you, Y/n. I truly do.”

“But that one time I told you how I felt, you chose to leave. Is that how you love, Leon? How could you not find a reason to stay?”

Leon was stunned at your statement. It was supposed to be a calming afternoon for both of them and watch the sunset beyond the horizon as well as look into the city lights of the beautiful city. But it turned out it wasn’t. Leon did really hurt you and he blames himself for that.

“My engagement with David will be announced in public in the next two weeks. After that announcement, I want you gone. It’s either you will resign yourself or I will fire you.

Leon scoffed at your statement. “You’re firing me because you don’t want me to work under you anymore or you're firing me because you know you couldn’t bear to be with another man without me occupying your mind?” He had caught you in the act.

“Admit it or not, I know you don’t want to marry the Senator’s son. You don’t want to marry him, do you? I told you already last night. Don’t make things complicated for us.” He added, causing you to roll your eyes.

“For the sake of my power and glory, why not?”

“Oh, yeah?” Leon smirked before saying. “Then, look me in the eye and say that you want to marry him.” He challenged you. You tried but ended up looking away after a few seconds.

The man smirked and suddenly wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close to him, leaving no spaces between you. Your breasts are pressed against his toned chest and you can feel his abs against you behind his dress shirt. Your faces are so close to each other that in one move, you two will end up kissing.

Leon stared deeply into your eyes and whispered. “You can’t because you still love me.” It was true. No matter how much you denied it, it was so goddamned true and you hate it.

“I hate you so much.” You whispered. He giggled at your comment and replied…

“Oh, and I love you too…”

Then, he kissed so passionately. He kissed you like his life depended on it. He finally had the chance to pull you close to him and kiss you again as he craved this for a long time. That kiss you shared last night isn’t enough. You know and understand it the way he deeply kisses you. He pulled away and started kissing your jawline and neck, inhaling the vanilla scent he loves.

“You have no idea how much I longed to kiss you like this. I want to push you against the wall and kiss you so badly when I am close to you.” He whispered and kissed your cheek.

You hold onto his shoulder as you breathe. Leon lifted you up in his arms and sat you on top of the car and there he continued to kiss you, setting himself between your legs. You felt his hand caressing your thigh while his other hand was at the back of your head. But what surprises you is that he is not even touching you further. You are wearing nothing but panties underneath your skirt but Leon isn’t trying to do something else. He doesn’t look like he’s asking for permission from you.

“My darling, do you think I am going to take your precious possession? Of course, not yet.” He smirked, regarding your virginity.

“You are really my stalker. You even know if I am still a virgin or not.” You scoffed.

“I’ll accept that as a compliment.” He replied, rubbing his nose against you and pecking your lips. “If you think that little strip show you did last night will make me do bad things to you, you’re definitely wrong. It turns me on, yes. But I know what kind of a seductress you are and I didn’t fall into your trap.”

You were stunned that he knows that you intentionally put on a show for him. But you cleared your throat and denied his claim by replying with a witty response.

“Oh, Leon. Even without using my seducing skills, I can make anyone fall into my trap. That’s why I always win my cases in the court and complete my missions successfully.”

“Then, there is me, the only survivor of your venom.”

“Shut up. I’m still angry at you,” You rolled your eyes on him and pushed him off you. You stood up and about to leave but Leon held your gloved hand.

You hissed and looked at him. Leon looked directly into your eyes. He doesn’t want you to leave. Your body moved on its own as Leon pulled you to him again and sat down on top of the car again. He pulled down your coat and tossed it away, exposing your bare shoulders and collarbones. Soft kisses were pressed against your shoulder and neck, making you close your eyes and tilt your head to the side as his arms wrapped around you. His hands held your hands, interwinding your fingers together.

“Take them off,” He demanded, referring to your gloves. You hummed in response. “You heard me. Take them off.” He repeated.

Still, you didn’t move. Leon sighed before slowly taking off your gloves with such gentle and care. You didn’t stop him or remorse from removing your gloves. Once your gloves are removed, he looks at your scars. It made him even more guilty, knowing that it was him who gave these to you.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Y/n. I shouldn’t have left you that night. I shouldn’t have kissed her behind your back.” He whispered, kissing forehead as his thumb rubs against your scar gently.

“Let me love you again, Y/n. Please, let’s be forever together. I want to make it up to you. Fifteen years of waiting is too much for me to waste this opportunity.”

You looked him in the eyes. You cupped his cheeks, caressing him with your thumb. He hummed in satisfaction, feeling your soothing touch. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him. Your thumb grazes his lower lip.

“You know that we can’t, right? It is a rule that an employer must never love her employee. I am especially bound to marry David Carter.” You replied to him which made him scoff at your excuse.

“You can talk back to your father like a brat but you can’t break his rules? Arranged marriages are bullshit. Your father is definitely pushing all your buttons. And don’t use him as your excuse anymore.” You chuckled at his response.

“Papa doesn’t know that we had a relationship back then. I never even mentioned your name to him. Because if he does, will we be in this kind of situation?”

“Isn’t this supposed to be the right time to break free from your father’s chains? He wants you to become the First Lady of the country by marrying the son of the Senate President.”

“We’re not fully okay, Leon. Don’t forget that. I do not forgive anyone who caused me a lot of pain that easily. If you want to be with me, prove yourself that you are worthy of my love and devotion. I have trust issues because of you.”

Leon scoffed and pecked your lips. “Is that so? I think I can overcome that.”

“Hmm? How so?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a secret. I have my ways to make you give in to me especially when I know that you still love me.” He chuckled, brought your scarred wrist to his lips and kissed them. “Don’t be insecure of your scars anymore. I love them even though I am the one who caused it.”

“Don’t deny yourself to me, baby. A prosecutor must never lie.”

“Don’t you dare bring up my profession here. And I am not insecure of my scar. I just don’t like showing it to people.” You warned and he giggled before pulling you into another kiss.

“Of course. This is about you and me. Can you stay here tonight? I promise, no one would know. I can make excuses to your guards.”

“Even if I say no, I am sure you will insist.” You rolled your eyes.

—

To Be Continued...

312 notes · View notes