#and it’s done!! and i have to wait until monday to show her!!

[un-common-dreams]

tag ramble

[simpingforheros]

Jason’s Girl??

Pairing: Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: Wait, Jason had a girlfriend? And he’s whipped for her? And she’s Hot?????

Warning: Fluff, a little bit of SMUT, Miscommunication, Dick being Dick, Established Relationship, Female Pronouns, Ass Harassment (you’ll see what I mean), Groping, Jason being a jackass to Dick. Toxic! Jason towards his own family, Implied Oral (m receiving), Actual Oral (F receiving) , doggy style, Choking, Fingering, face grabbing, dumbification, degergation, pet names, consensual recording, lipstick marks, tattoos.

Author’s Note: I’m back again to harassing @jjenthusee again because they had the nerve to not only inspire me with one diabolical fanart to make me write this, but then they had the audacity to show me this so yea, yall are getting some Jason being a whipped boyfriend. Also my first smut ever so please give me critiques.

AN: Part 2, Part 3

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"Oh Jason-" Dick's voice fills the air as he waltzes over to Jason as he sits in front of the Batcomputer with a charismatic smile. Jason swears that he saw the devil in that smile as his older brother asks,

"So, Wally and Roy wanna go out to the bar tonight and I know you are off and have nothing to do, sooooo, would you mind covering for me for patrol?"

Dick was already mentally planning all his pick up lines for all the attractive individuals he wanted to spend the night with before Jason casually bursts his bubble.

"No. Got plans." Jason grumbles, already annoyed with Dick. He was trying to focus on his work so he can leave as fast as he can. The clicks of the mouse emphazies Dick's frustration as he says.

"Brooding and looking at 'Hot Milfs near me with Guns' does not count as plans.' His blank tone becomes a whine as he begs, "Come on, Jay. Ever since my break up with Star-!"

"You mean you cheating on Kori with Barbara again?"

Dick glares at Tim from over his shoulder as he snaps at him.

"Shut up, Timmy Turner."

His eyes become begging pools as he looks to Jason. "Help your older brother get laid and work my patrol for me. I promise to cover for you Monday...."

Jason scoffs as he knows Dick wouldn't return the favor once Monday rolls around. He stands up from his chair as he grabs his helmet. All the reports are done, meaning he was officially done until his patrol route on Monday.

Dick groans and follows Jason to his motorcycle. "Jay, Bro. I'm serious. Please help me out."

Jason smiles at Alfred as he sees the old butler waiting for him by the bike with a gift bag in hand. He takes the bag as he says, "Thanks, Alfred."

The butler smiles as he says, "I hope you two enjoy them. I used Martha Wayne's famous white macadamia nut cookie recipe. I remember you told me they were her favorite."

"Her??" Dick gasps as Jason gets onto his bike. Dick stands in front of the bike while holding the bars. "You're leaving your brother high and dry for some girl? I thought Bro Code overpowers any flings."

That's all Dick remembers Jason having. Every relationship Jason had that Dick was aware of was either flings or toxic messes. Hell, He was dating Slade's daughter a couple years ago and she literally tries to kill him. Why does Jason even refuse the chance to bash evil-doers' skulls in for a random chick?

Jason rolls his eyes as he places his helmet on his head. "Can't really help you if you are too insecure to keep a woman in the first place."

Dick snaps at him as he jumps from the front of the bike as Jason reves it up before darting out of the Batcave.

"I AM NOT INSECURE!!!"

Tim peaks down at the runway as he says, "I mean...it says a lot if you can't pick between two women..."

Tim's words die in this throat as he was met with Dick's glare. Alfred chuckles at the following argument that begins to fill the Batcave as he hopes Mistress (Y/N) enjoys the cookies.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Shitttt...."

He groans as Dick rolls off of Roy's couch with a splitting head ache. The effects of last night filling his senses as he stumbles to stand up . He would have been better off going on patrol instead of paying Duke 50 grand to take his patrol. The very fact that Duke was also rich but still insisted that he paid solely on Principle made Dick respect and loathe Th Signal.

But having that 50k would have been better than the lack of action he got. Apparently women currently preferred exploring the pumpkin patch that is Roy and Wally instead of the Romi Beauty that was Dick.

The socks on both the main and guest bedroom tauts him as he starts to throw on some comfortable clothes before heading out of the door. Maybe he can go for a run before heading back to Bludhaven...

Then a sight catches his eyes as a pretty little thing trotted up the stairs. Her (H/C) hair was in a protective hair style leaving her clean face exposed as her long lashes grazes her cheek bones. Her eyes focusing on the cell phone in her hand as Dick's eyes hungrily scanned her figure. She breathed a certain casually put together woman on her day off as she moved gracefully in her baggy sweat pants concealed by the over sized zip-up that was hanging off her shoulder, exposing her pretty skin. The lack of strapage on her shoulder that made Dick’s mouth water at the possibly that this little minx was just casually out without a proper top or maybe without a bra.

As she reaches what he assumed to be her apartment door, Dick tries to straighten his walk a little bit as he beats her to the door. His hand resting on the door as he was leaning against it, trying to appear as the charming billionaire’s son that he always used to get women.

“Hey there.” Dick says smoothly as the girl cocks an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t know I was in heaven until I saw you over here, Angel.”

The girl cringes and covers her mouth as she tries not to burst out laughing in his face. Dick takes it as his flirtation working as she gives him a polite smile.

Maybe he can get laid afterall…

“That was pretty corny, I’ll give you that.” She admits before she starts to turn her door knob to go back into her apartment.

Dick panics as he says, “I’m Dick by the way. Well I mean Richard, but everyone calls me Dick.”

A knowing look on her face appears as she says, “I’m not surprised.”

He gently places his hand on her arm as he says, “I don’t normally do this, but can I get your number?” His charm game up to its maximum potential as he gives her the look all women swoon over. The look that at least lets him get away with the shit he had done to Kori and Barbara at least.

The woman looks at him with the most disinterested look as she says, “Nope.”

“No?” Dick asks as she nods.

“N. o. No.” She says as she pulls away from him. “My boyfriend is inside and unless you want him to kick your ass, I’m gonna go inside and enjoy my anniversary.”

In Dick’s half drunken stupor, he takes the rejection as one of those white lies that women tell strange men so they would leave them alone. Of course she wouldn’t be receptive to some stranger appearing outside of her apartment at whatever fucking time it was in the morning…

“Oh really? What makes you think your ‘boyfriend’ and kick my ass?” He teases. “Is he big and scary?”

Her smirk deepens as a twinkle of mischief and annoyance makes her eyes pop. “He is very big and very very scary…”

Her confidence only egged Dick on as he says, “Baby, I’m from Gotham and I don’t know what counts as scary here in Jump City…”

A diabolical giggle escapes her lips as she says lightly. “Oh you’re from Gotham? So is my boyfriend. I’m actually moving there next weekend. You two probably know each other…”

Before Dick could respond, her fist knocks hard against the wood as she calls out through the door. “Jason Baby, I need you!”

‘Jason?…No it can’t be….’ Dick thoughts before heavy steps came to the door and pulled it open, and to Dick’s horror, there stood Jason Peter Todd in a pair of grey sweatpants and a tight white tee shirt with the bold red letters saying, ‘ I <3 my girlfriend and her phat ass’

Dick probably would have laughed his ass off if he currently didn’t feel like pissing himself under Jason’s glare. With his eyes still glaring at Dick, he asks the woman, “Yeah, Princess? Is my brother bothering you?”

His arms across over his chest, emphasizing the way the shirt make his biceps bulge out as his girlfriend giggles.

“I figured that’s who he was and no he isn’t.” She says softly as she stands up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “He just didn’t believe me when I told him about my big scary man.”

Jason’s eyes soften as he flicks over to her. His hand instinctively grabbing the bag from her hand that Dick didn’t even notice, most likely take out from a restaurant. “You got us breakfast? I could have cooked us something.”

“Yea, but you looked too sweet sleeping and I know you’ve been having a hard week.” She says as she takes off the zip up that Dick now realizes was Jason’s. Oh lord did Dick wish she didn’t take it off.

Now the vixen was in a tube top and a pair of black sweat pants with ‘I <3 my boyfriend’ curving deliciously across the seat. Dick’s eyes didn’t linger long as the temptress snaps her fingers in his face.

“Hey, that’s not yours to look at.” She scolds him, which causes Jason to chuckle. Her eyes looked up to Jason with a playful warmth as she says, “I’m gonna head in and plate the food.”

Jason decides to be a tease and cups her ass while she squeals. “You just need to sit on the table to plate mine.” Her lightly swatting him causes him to laugh as she walks into the apartment.

She calls out over her shoulder. “Bye, Dick! I hope you get that insecurity issue looked at!”

Dick gaps at the blatant insult as he looks up to his younger brother for support. Jason’s shoulders shake as he tries to contain his laughter. It was disturbing to Dick to see Jason so happy…

“You really let her speak to your innocent brother like that?…”

Jason’s eyebrow shoots up as he says, “First of all, you’re as innocent as everyone in Arkham, and second, I’m not her handler. She’s a grown woman who obviously can handle herself,”

“Jay~” a purr comes from the inside of the apartment that causes a stir in both of the men. An evil glint passes through Jason’s face as he says to Dick.

“See ya later!” Before Dick could respond, Jason already had the door close as the eruption of laughter fills the hallway.

Shit….

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

It wasn’t until a week later that Dick realizes what Jason had planned for him as revenge for flirting with his girlfriend.

Jason had brought (Y/N) to Wayne manor to meet everyone after it was brought to life that she was not only not a fling, but a serious long term girlfriend. Jason somehow hid the fact that he had been dating for 2 years fucking years.

Alfred knew the couple’s love story before they even walked through the door as he delightfully told them about how Jason, who was brooding about his break up with Rose Wilson, met (Y/N) at Roy’s apartment complex after he witnessed her beat up some loser.

Apparently Jason couldn’t wait to tell Alfred all about it after he managed to get her to go out with him and the rest was history.

Barbara also knew about it after Jason came to her asking advice on certain gifts to give her. The ginger practically fawned over (Y/N) as soon as she came through the door.

Honestly, everyone kinda fawned over the couple as they can see the magnetic connection between them. It was clear to everyone that Jason had finally found his match and the shit eating grin on his face whenever he locked eyes with Dick made him more sure of it.

It was the same grin as he had in those videos he sent Dick moments before he arrived. Dick can still recall the video like he was the one to experience it like a delightful nightmare.

It started simple enough. (Y/N)’s flustered face filled the screen as Jason's hand cups her face. Her light pants and her red-stained lips shined with what Dick assumed to be spit as his brother's thumb swiped at her bottom lip. The already smudged red lipstick stained her skin as Jason began to coo at her.

"Aw, Princess, your lipstick is smudged." He almost sounds like he's mocking her with how sweet he sounded. "I guess it does matter, right? Because you look so fucking pretty."

Her eyes shined at the praise as she pressed her cheek further into his palm. Her voice melted like sugar as she asked him.

"You really think I'm pretty?" Her eyes almost shine mischievously as she asks him. "Does that mean I made your cock pretty too?"

Jason chuckles as he presses his thumb into her mouth, pressing lightly on her tongue as he coos. "I think you're very pretty. Especially when you choke on my cock and paint it red with your sweet lips."

Pulling his thumb out as she whines, he gently pushes her down onto the bed as it shows her in the same exact outfit she had on the day she and Dick met. Her hands go to pull off her clothes when Jason stops her with a single hand.

"Nah, baby. He ain't seeing all of your goods." Revealing that the video was made specifically for Dick to see before the video ends.

While Dick understood Jason's message from the first clip of the video, he couldn't help both the curiosity and the string in his own pants to watch the other video sent right after that one.

“Fuck, Jason!” Her moans filling the speakers as her eyes were screwed shut. Her nose scrunched in the cutest way as Dick made notes of what all looked different on her.

Her skin was shining with sweat and her hair frayed from the friction between it and the sheets. Her exposed skin was now flushed with a soft trail of bite marks blemishing the sea of smoothness. The camera was placed so he can see all of her except for her cunt which was obstructed by the mass of black hair that he assumed was Jason devouring her like a dog.

His movements remaining steady as he eagerly digged his nose into her folds as her manicured hands forced him in deeper. Her breathless moans and high pitched squeals as Jason begins to fill her unseen hole with his fingers while he began to solely suck her clit.

"Baby... Please...." She begged as she tried to grind her hips into his mouth, but the iron grip of his hand on her thigh prevented that as she cried. "Please let me cum...I've been a good girl for you...please let me cum...."

Dick swore he almost came into his own pants at the sweet sound of her begging.

Jason chuckles against her skin as she whines in frustration. He pulls away from her cunny only enough to where his head still blocked the view of it from the camera.

"Aw princess, you forgot the game..." He scolds her as his fingers seemed to go faster inside her. Her moans becoming almost pornographic as the stimulation and her impending orgasm was being played out of her. "Who does this sweet girl belong to?"

"Y-you, Jason" She pants out her answer as makes a noise that sounded like he didn't believe her. His free hand grabbing the propped up camera and bringing it around so only she was in the shot.

The heavy rising and falling of her covered chest filled Dick's vision as the soft squelching of her cunt being finger fucked serenaded him.

"You sure about that? You didn't seem too disinterested in Dick when he was hitting on you earlier...Maybe you were too cock hungry to even care about whose cock would fill you."

Her head shakes in denial as she whines as the squelching quiets down. "No, I only want you, Jay."

"Yeah? You mean it. Princess?"

Her head frantically nods as her eyes glass over. Her hips try to roll into his hand as the camera shifts a little to her hips. A tattoo coming into the frame. A small red heart with the initials 'JPT' written in cursive right beside it.

The video ends there before the final video is switched on by Dick, whose on the edge of his seat now.

The beginning shot shows her now on her knees with her head down to the mattress. Her cheek was presses against the slightly red stained sheets as her plump ass was raised, only being propped by a pillow under her hips to cover any view to the front of her pubic area. Jason held her hands to her back as his hips were pressed against the back her hips. Her whining and incoherent babble as she tries to roll her hips back into him earns a firm slap to her ass as Jason smirks.

The first time Dick saw Jason in the video and he was still wearing that stupid white shirt with the " I <3 my girlfriend and her phat ass" on it. However, red lipstick now stained the collar of the shirt and his neck. His own face was smeared in some red lipstick as he smirks down at her.

"Aw, is my princess ready to be fucked dumb?" He asked down to her as she mewls. Her grinding hips pressing into his pelvis as Jason moves his shirt out of the way. The move seemed intentional as the newly exposed skin showed a matching heart tattoo with what Dick assumed to be her initials just on Jason's Adonis belt.

"Baby?" Jason asks as his voice lowers an octave. His hand reaches around her neck and pulls her up by her neck as she chokes a gasps. His hips now thrusting deep into her as the pillow still hides the sinful union from the camera.

"I asked you a question," Jason whispers as his voice becomes gravelly. His hand flexed as he choked her, but it was obvious that he wasn't grabbing her as hard as he could.

(Y/N) cries as tears roll down her face as her whimpers fill the room. The bottom half of her face was now stained pink with no other evidence of the red lipstick remaining. Her now free hand reached around and cupped Jason's ass, encouraging him to fuck her insides up as she finally answers him.

"Yes, please...I need it, Jason. I need you..."

Jason growls as his pace quickens as the nasty sound of their skin clapping almost overpowered her squeals as she takes it.

"You little minx..." He whispers as he slams her down onto the mattress before pulling her hips back to his. His hips slamming into her jiggling ass as she whimpers. Drool and tears cover her face as she mumbles out praises.

"So full...So big...can't get enough..." She whimpers as Jason smirks from above her. "No one else could match you...I love you, Jason."

"I love you too, Baby." He whispers as his hand slips around her hips and begins to rub circles into her hidden clit. Her squeals became high-pitched pants as her climax began to rise.

Jason's other hand reaches for the camera as he whispers his final message to the camera.

"Maybe Dick can learn how a real man should treat his woman..."

Let's just say that Dick remained silent in his room with a stomach ache as he learned that Jason was both crazy and the luckiest son of a bitch he ever met....

++++++++++++++++++

Author's Note: I will never forgive Dick for the shit he pulled against Babs and Kori so enjoy my revenge. Also, let me know what you thought of my first smut. I didn't commit to a full one because I was scared lol. And thank you @jjenthusee for the inspo again and I promise I'll quit the harassment for now.

+++++++++++++++++

@simpingforheros fanfiction. I DO NOT CONDONE MY WRITINGS TO BE COPIED, STOLEN, OR REPOSTED ON OTHER WEBSITES OR ACCOUNTS WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[gguk-n]

Jokes In The Cloud (Carlos Sainz x Comedian!Reader)

No Face Claim. All the pictures are from Pinterest.

CONGRATULATIONS TO CARLOS ON WINNING HIS SECOND GP THIS SEASON!!

punchlineprincess

Liked by y/bff/user and 2,389 others

punchlineprincess Vacationing with the people who get on my nerve the most

y/bff/user you forgot to take me😔😔 punchlineprincess y/bff/user sorry bbg, next trip with you alone😘😘 y/cousin/user you annoy us more🙂 y/mum/user not a nice thing to say Y/N punchlineprincess y/mum/user I was joking😅😅 user1 if someone saw her IG they would think she's a model😍😍 user2 God I've seen what you've done for others, when is it my turn🥲🥲 user3 pretty and funny. I want her!!❤️❤️

{Reader's POV}

The gears in my head my turning, I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I still had to refine my script; I was sure I could do it if I have a few hours. "Sweetheart, dinner's ready" my dad called out from the bedroom door. "Dad, I have to leave" I stated. "To where?" my dad asked, walking in. "You know that Netflix special I was gonna film" I began, he nodded along, "well, they want to film it on Monday" I finished. "That's in a day" he stated. "2, since it's in New York" I explained. "Cassidy will send me my tickets, but I think I'll be leaving now" I spoke. "Sorry about ditching the family trip. I know how important it was for you" I mumbled. "It's okay, darling. This is bigger. This will catapult you to fame like you always wanted, I mean I'm already so proud of you but this is still bigger" he explained trying to calm me. "Me and your mum will help you pack, come on" he said and called my mum.

The two of them helped me pack my bags. He explained how my Netflix special would be filmed soon and I would be leaving soon to everyone. All my younger cousins and nieces and nephews were so excited. Cassidy sent me the tickets. I made sure to pack everything while my mum fed me, it was chaos in the best way possible. "I'll be leaving now" I hugged my parents good bye. "Can't wait to watch it" my aunt spoke patting my back. "Mention us" one of my younger cousin's spoke. "I'll try" I laughed. My niece kissed my cheek wishing me good bye. My nephew wasn't ready to let me go yet, my brother had to pull him off me.

I waved good bye as the taxi left the resort, my family waving back as I disappeared. The ride to the airport was short, I was too busy going through my material to notice when I reached the airport. I paid the taxi driver and hauled my luggage to the check-in desk. The person behind it, checked me in and I was headed to immigration. This was the first time I noticed that I was sitting first class. When did my manager have this kind of money to book first class. I'd have to bring it up with her once I had the time.

I got done with all the formality and headed to the waiting area, where I spent my time going through my script and tweaking it ever so often. I downed a RedBull to try to align myself to New York time, so that I can combat the jet lag.

As the speaker's announced the boarding for my flight, I grabbed all my stuff with the plan to finish it up on the plane. The air-host lead me to my seat. I noticed a man sat on the seat next to mine, he looked an awful lot familiar, until it hit me that it was Carlos Sainz; my heart started pounding. I walked up to my seat, put my luggage away and sat down. My hands were shaking by the time I sat down, pulling my laptop out. I started typing away with shaky hands. "Is that a script?" a voice came from beside me. I turned around to find Carlos with his head turned, trying to figure out what's written. "Yeah, I'm a comedian, this is a script for my show" I tried to speak as confidently and calmly as possible. "That's cool. I'm Carlos, Carlos Sainz" he introduced himself. "I'm Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N" I shook his hand. "I'm a Formula One driver, maybe you'e heard about me" he further elaborated. I know, I've been obsessed with you for years, my poor brother has to listen to me talk about you for hours after every race, analysing the whole race. I have a fan account called carloslover, were the thoughts running through my head. "Yeah, I must've heard about Formula One some where" I said tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Well it's nice to meet you" Carlos said. "It's nice to meet you too" I said with a smile. "I'll let you get back to your work" Carlos said pointing at my laptop.

I spent a couple more minutes working on it before I was disturbed by Carlos, not like I was complaining; "I'm sorry but I'm kind of curious about what the script your working on is about" Carlos spoke slowly. "I'm filming a Netflix special in New York. So, I'm fine tuning my script" I chuckled. "Oh, sorry for disturbing you" Carlos replied sheepishly. Damn, he looked so cute, I caught myself fawning at him. "Ah, it's nothing." I quickly looked away, "I love when people are interested in what I do" I smiled. "Then, I will continue to annoy you a bit" he laughed. "Be my guest" I smiled back.

A few more tweaks and a good hour later, I was able to close the laptop, happy with the script I had at hand. "I'm guessing you're done" Carlos chimed in. "I am" I said stretching a little. "Maybe you could practice a bit with me" Carlos suggested. "I do want to practice my crowd work" I thought out loud.

"So, Carlos are you really a full time driver or a model? I can't really tell" I said. Carlos's face turned red, "Is this how you do crowd work?" he trailed. "I, no, can't let the opportunity to flirt with a man as handsome as you go" I smirked. Carlos's blush only deepened, "So, I'm special" he laughed. "Obviously" I shrugged. "If it's anything, I thought you were a model and not a comedian" he retorted. "I get that a lot. But doesn't work in my profession when people don't think pretty people tell good jokes" I retorted back. "I've never heard any of your jokes, but I'm sure you're funny since Netflix wants you" Carlos said. "Hope so" I said holding up my hands with crossed fingers.

I felt like the time flew by, as Carlos kept me company. Just as the flight was about to land; "Will I see you again?' Carlos asked hopefully. "You could, if I had your number" I remarked. Carlos pulled his phone out and handed it to me. I put my number in and called myself. "I'll see you soon." I winked as I saved Carlos's number. "Can't wait" Carlos replied, smiling at me as we grabbed our luggage to leave.

Cassidy was waiting for me as I exited the airport. "I'm so sorry, I should've checked my emails" she apologised grabbing my bag. "It's fine, let's go. I'm exhausted" I replied grabbing my bag back. We caught an uber back to the hotel. I rehearsed my script with Cassidy for the next few hours, trying not to memorise it so it would sound genuine.

punchlineprincess

Liked by y/bff/user and 2,378 others

punchlineprincess Done filming my first special, can't wait for it to air🥹🥹

y/bff/user I'M SO EXCITED🤭🤭 user4 I'll watch it just to see that outfit😍 user5 so pretty😍😍 y/mum/user so proud of my baby💖 y/dad/user my baby's all grown up😭❤️

punchlineprincess

Liked by y/bff/user, carlossainz55 and 3,289 others

punchlineprincess Joked my way into his life🫣🫣

y/bff/user ooohhhh who is this??👀👀 y/dad/user what is this behaviour y/n??? user6 OMG!!! I love this❤️❤️ user7 the best couple ever and idek the guy😅😅 user9 y/n being sporty wasn't in my bingo card🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ user10 the golf date!!!❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 user11 I want to go to an art museum with my lover and imitate art like that😏😏 user12 this is so Carlos coded plus he's in the likes😣😣

punchlineprincess

Liked by y/bff/user and 5,378 others

punchlineprincess I may have gone overboard for the premier at home🥲😅

y/bff/user I'M SCREAMING WHILE WATCHING IT🥹🥹 y/mum/user my baby❤️ carlossainz55 so proud of you ❤️Liked by Author user13 what does Carlos mean by that, like he knows her🙂👀 user14 the funniest shit i've watched in a while🤣🤣 user15 loved this so much!!!❤️🤣 user16 finally the real comedian that's getting the recognition she deserves😂😂

punchlineprincess

Liked by carlossainz55, y/bff/user and 1278,340 others Tagged carlossainz55

punchlineprincess Sorry I'm not normal about my boyfriend winning his second race this season😭😭

carlossainz55 I think having you there was my lucky charm🍀❤️ punchlineprincess carlossainz55 aww!! but it was your big brain and hard work❤️❤️🥹 y/bff/user aww!! watching both my babies win respectively 😭😭Liked by carlossainz55 and punchlineprincess y/dad/user good job Carlos👍 Liked by carlossainz55 user12 I should've known after those dates🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ user20 seeing her hug his mom when he won was so cute😭😭 user21 the most unlikely couple🥹🥹 user22 I get it Carlos, I get it😍😍 user23 Vamos Carlos!!👍👍 user24 I want a full timeline how everything went down😩 user25 I'm so happy I got to witness this race😭😭 user26 she was so sweet to all the fans and even took pictures with us!!😭🥹

After the race win celebrations on the podium and the team, after the interviews when I finally got him all to myself; "I'm so proud of you baby" I whispered as I pressed a kiss on his lips. "I'm so happy you got to see me win" Carlos mumbled not letting go. "I can't believe instead of watching you on TV I got to watch you in real life" I said pulling away. "I don't know why you lied to me when we met" Carlos laughed. "Well I couldn't tell you I'm @ carloslover on Instagram and Twitter and I've been in love with you since you debuted" I laughed. "I think I wouldn't have paid much attention since you're so pretty" Carlos smiled running his hands down my sides to rest on my waist. "Well I'm a Carlos lover and I am Carlos's lover. It's a win win" I smiled, "You and I both, princessa, you and I both" Carlos captured my lips in another, yet steamy kiss pulling me closer so my body was touching his, "You are all sticky and smell of champagne", I mumbled against his lips trying to pull away but Carlos pulled me closer, "No" he muttered and continued kissing me. He walked back to sit on the couch pulling me down with him, straddling his lap. He pulled me closer, our bodies touching, his hands roaming mine before they found home on my ass. We pulled away slightly breathless but Carlos than started his assault on my neck, sucking on my sweet spot near my collar bone while pushing me down on his lap. I could feel him grow under me. I pushed him away, "Nope" I said firmly. "No?" he asked cocking his head to the right with his big brown puppy eyes, "We're not doing it here. Let's get back to the hotel, maybe after you smell a little less like alcohol, I'll think about it" I said getting up. "Y/N" he whined holding my hands as I stood in front of him. "Not even for today's race winner" he pouted. "No. Baby, this is your work place. I will do anything and everything you want but out of the paddock" I said. "The car?" Carlos perked up. "Carlos, darling, we'll be on the headline tomorrow reading Carlos Sainz Jr knows how to celebrate his win in Mexico with girlfriend in his black Ferrari" I said. "Fine, Let's go back soon. I can't wait" he humphed before going to change out of his race suit. "I love you" I called out. "También te amo" he called back.

[yanderenightmare]

can we have more yan DEKU who terrorises his exgirlfriend? like, he sends her creepy letters and gifts, without mentioning it's him of course, scaring her straight back into his arms??

Deku - Midoriya Izuku

TW: yandere, hints of dubcon/noncon, size difference, stalker, mental abuse

Green Paisley

You’d felt watched lately, and things were rarely where you remembered putting them. But thinking it was all in your head, you’d ignored it until you received the first gifts and saw the pictures. Eyes peeled while reading the letter with a shaky hand covering your mouth, you dropped everything on the steps to your apartment when quickly reaching for your phone.

I wasn’t going to write you any letters. I was happy just watching because I knew you were already spoken for. But I’ve noticed that the green-haired guy hasn’t come over lately, and I feel so sad knowing you’re home all alone…

You contact the police, but all they tell you is to invest in a new alarm system. After a little crying at the station, they show you enough sympathy to post a squad car in your neighborhood – but all in all, you’d say they didn’t seem very convinced.

That green-haired guy is a fucking moron. If you were mine, I would never let you go. I would take care of you, much better than he ever could. I would give you only the prettiest gifts and call you only the sweetest names. I’d treat you how someone like you deserves to be treated. Keep you safe and sound and happy to be mine…

You read the stalker’s letter again while browsing ways to upgrade your security – your thumb in your mouth, nail bending where you chewed on it – eyes panning over the photos that came in the box. Taken through the window – some innocent enough, candid pictures of you cooking in the kitchen or watching a movie on the couch. 

Others were not so innocent.

Your nail broke between your teeth as you looked at the revealing pics of you in your bedroom – wearing nothing but flimsy underwear. 

You looked back to the screen and continued scrolling through deals – but more than that, you were trying to distract yourself from what you really wanted to do…

Izuku had always been a source of comfort when it came to safety, and you know he’d come if you called, but since you broke up with him only a couple of months ago it seemed too selfish to ask. Besides, the reasons you broke things off were all because of his derogatory tendencies, and to beg him over because of something like this would only prove his point.

You couldn’t call him over. He’d see it as a win, and you’d decided you wouldn’t lose to his patronizing ways any longer. You needed to do this on your own – without his help.

You had to wait through the weekend until Monday to call a guy. A new box came both days, each one more terrifying than the last. But after installing a new alarm system you felt a little safer.

But the next box stripped that safety away.

I know I must be creeping you out. After all, you have no idea who I am, whereas I know you so intimately. But you shouldn’t feel scared. I would never hurt you. My gift to you today is proof of that.

P.S. Security systems aren’t enough to keep me away from you. 

Beneath the letters were more pictures of you – this time sleeping – inside the house. 

You fell apart – caving in, calling Izuku in tears, begging him to come over in a hurry. “Izu- please, please, please come home-”

He’s sitting on your couch only a curt fifteen minutes later, a tight arm around your midriff, holding you close for comfort while you sobbed against his chest – a furl deepened his brows while reading, holding your stalker’s letters in the other hand with green eyes narrowing for every sentence he finished.

I dream of making you mine. As I watch you sleep, I wonder what you dream of. You look so lonely lying there. Maybe if I keep you company, you’ll start dreaming of me too.

“How many of these have you received?” He questioned when done, looking around at the gift wrap on the floor, green-paisley-patterned, and the several boxes filled with crepe and untouched pieces of what looked like different arrangements of lingerie, candy, and sex toys.

“Four, I think…” You muffled against his tear-soaked shirt, clinging to him with your legs tucked onto his lap.

“Four? Why didn’t you call me sooner?” He echoed, looking down at you with heavy curls shadowing his eyes.

You looked up at him through the blur, lip sucked between your teeth before answering. “I- I went to the police-”

“The police? You went to the police instead of calling me?” He cut you off harshly, making you flinch.

“I-I-” You stuttered, crying, and he shook from his misplaced anger and took your face in his palms.

“Shh-sh- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He apologized with a kiss on your forehead before pulling you close to his chest again. “It’s just… this is exactly what I warned you about. You should have called me sooner.”

“I’m sorry.” You whimper, calming down to the warm strokes his large hand smoothed across your back.

“Shh- it's okay… I’m here now… and I'm not gonna let any sicko touch you. I promise.” He soothed – his voice a calm and strong anchor for you to grip onto. “Come, I’ll help you pack a bag. You’ll sleep at my place tonight.”

“Okay…” You sniffle. “Thank you.”

He drove with only one hand on the steering wheel, the other on your lap, holding your hand – your bag by your feet – and you’re reminded of the first days you started dating. Sleepovers and overnight bags – his hand between your thighs on the drive.

His new place is bigger than the last – like something out of a magazine. Modern and simplistic – a little too clean, maybe, but very stylish. 

You knew he’d been climbing the ranks a couple of spots a week since you broke up with him, but you hadn’t known the new paychecks could afford something like this. It made you feel a little guilty thinking about it, then a little embarrassed, causing you to flush – standing there in guest slippers, bag in hand – your presence sticking out like a sore thumb.

“You hungry?” He asked, shaking you out of your meekness, where you looked up with a small nod and a slight hum.

He smiled, turning to the kitchen. You were so cute.

At dinner, it almost feels like old times. Izuku plays with your legs under the table even though you give him a look. He gets you to giggle after a while, surrendering to his hopeless flirting. You help him carry the dishes after you’ve finished – and even though he has a washer now, you slip right into that old routine and start filling the sink with warm water and soap. And then you stand there, the two of you – shoulder to elbow, and your chest flutters, wondering if he was always that tall.

You blushed and ducked your head, not wanting him to see you getting so flustered. You pretended to be throwing some scraps in the trash and that's when your eyes caught hold of it.

Green paisley.

You’re stunned for a moment. Still crouched down, your head hovering over the trash – face blank, body still.

“You weren’t meant to see that.” Came a voice.

Izuku stood next to you. Washcloth in hand, dripping soapsuds on the floor.

You’re breath shivers in your throat, and you drop to the ground with a gulp, looking up at him – now with building fear accenting your still shocked expression.

You blink a couple of times, trying to make sense of it but getting nowhere. “W-why?” Left you then, along with sudden tears that started slipping down your cheeks.

And it really was the only question you had. Why would he do this? Why would he torment you like that? Why would he-

“’Cause you left… And I needed a way to get you back.”

You cringed. Feeling sick – almost sick enough to turn around and throw up the entire dinner in the trashcan, all over that stupid green paisley print. But you didn’t. “You’re pathetic.” – is what you said instead.

You got up from the floor. Upset tears still rolled down your face, but you were mostly just pissed – kicking off your guest slippers, you sat down atop the shoe bench and started doing your laces.

“I’m leaving. Don’t call me. If I ever see you near my place, I’m calling the cops.” You uttered, grabbing your bag before yanking the door handle.

It didn’t budge – some strange new type of locking mechanism, which really made no sense to have on the inside.

“I’m going home, Izuku. Unlock the door.” You huffed, turning around to look at him sourly, only he’d approached you all too silently – making you gasp to see him standing right behind you.

“You’re not going anywhere…”

You’re taken to the bed, kicking and screaming – then pinned by hands thrice the size of your own beneath the big-boned body they belonged to. And now you’re really feeling scared.

Before, it had been such a distant threat – something you could pretend wasn’t there for most of the day and otherwise deal with by the soothing presence of a weapon in your house or a quick phone call to the police. But now – there was no comfort to be found anywhere.

“Shh, baby~ don’t fuss. It’s better this way.” He tried soothing, holding your fighting wrists tightly above your head in one fist. The other kept your lips shut, muffling all screams. Barring your thrashing legs beneath his own. “You need me- you couldn’t even last a single week without calling me.” He justified, hunched over you with his mouth only an inch above the knuckles draping your mouth. “But that’s alright, I don’t mind it. I always planned on taking care of you.” He cooed, rubbing his nose sweetly against yours despite you trying to shake away from it. 

You felt something rub against your thigh, and you knew all too well what it was. Fat tears streamed down your cheeks, facing the next events.

But Izuku shared none of your discomforts, rocking the bump against you with a moan slipping into his rant. “You like the new place I got, don’t you? You can stay in all day- I’d give you all you’d ever need or want- you’d be so comfortable you wouldn’t ever even want to leave-”

He sounded just like the letters.

And where it had ached you to know that he’d been the one to write them all… now it terrified you to understand how he’d meant every last word of it, too.

[sempersirens]

raising hell all over town

pairing: best friend's dad!joel x f!reader

summary: you've been a friend of sarah's since you were old enough to steal bottles of her dad's whiskey for parties. sarah was always the sensible one in your friendship, getting you out of the trouble you usually started. but now sarah has gone off to college, who else but joel could pick up the pieces?

content/warnings: 18+ mdni. alcohol. drugs. age gap. violence/fighting. smut: unprotected p in v, spanking

a/n: inspired by this gif set, and the wonderful @amanitacowboy & @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for introducing me to that yellowstone scene kind of nervous about this, my first proper smutty fic - i find smut really difficult to write for some reason (weird because i'm feral horny 24/7) so this was kinda out of my comfort zone but i hope you all enjoy! PSA: i no longer have a taglist! feel free to follow my updates blog @sempersirenswrites and turn the post notifs on to be notified when i post a new fic :)

Friday nights in Austin felt incomplete without Sarah by your side.

For years, she had been the epitome of your partner in crime; dragging you back to her place or putting you in a cab before the cops were called.

Had it not been for your fierce loyalty and protectiveness over Sarah, you're sure her dad would've barred you from the house years ago. Sarah was smarter than you in almost every way. Academically, emotionally, you name it.

Joel knew this, and he trusted the two of you together knowing you both balanced the other out. Watching the two of you reminded Joel of a younger version of himself and Tommy, always thankful that Sarah had followed in his footsteps as opposed to her uncle's.

Your relationship with your parents was rocky, to say the least, and the Miller's house had always been a safe haven for you. Joel had patched up your split lip or bloody nose more times than he wanted to admit for a girl your age. He swore he'd kill your old man one day for the states you'd turned up to their house in.

Still, he couldn't help but feel the urge to grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you from time to time. As much as his heart broke for you, it was also in your nature to be a damn brat. Joel had endured countless stifling days spent by the pool forcing himself to not let his eyes linger on the curves of your hips. He struggled to look you in the eye when he saw you sat on the kitchen counter waiting to leave for a party, your mini skirt riding dangerously high on your thighs.

There had been times when he had been reckless. Times that he'd had to pull himself away from your invisible grip on him and relieve his tension in the bathroom, fisting his cock onto the shower floor, biting down on the shape of your name on his tongue.

When he'd re-emerge into the living room, he knew that you knew. You'd look through your eyelashes at him and smile. His cheeks flushed, shame setting in at the speed at which he'd cum from the thought of your pussy clenching around his shaft.

He would never let it show, but something would rush through his body when he'd ask Sarah what the hell she do this time? He remembered one time in particular, as Sarah relayed the events of the night that had led to your bloody nose, he'd looked over at you perching on the counter. With blood leaking down your cupid's bow, you'd locked eyes with him and ran your tongue across your lip, revelling in the remnants of your victory.

Still, you had fine enough nights out with the girls from work. They just didn't get you the way Sarah did. They would shoot you judgemental glances from across the bar that lasted until the Monday back at work for whatever you had done this time that they disapproved of.

"They're just dull. You should see the way they look at me for literally just hooking up with guys." You had lamented to Sarah over the phone while you were both getting ready for your respective nights out on separate sides of the country.

"It's probably because they've seen you get through an entire friendship group before your second drink."

"Well, they should be taking notes. Tell me nobody at college is as fun as me." Jealousy tore through your chest at the thought of Sarah spending her time with new friends.

"Nobody here is as fun as you. They're very... reserved." You scoffed at her politeness.

"Babe, just say they're boring."

"I'm giving them a chance. Anyway, gotta go. Text me tomorrow and tell me the damage. Love ya!"

"Don't have too much fun without me. Love you too."

Despite their judging looks, you were always the first person they called upon to finish any mess they had gotten themselves into. Still, you were happy to oblige, even if it meant a few awkward minutes of silence at the coffee machine on Monday.

The group of you had poured out of an Uber into the busy bar around nine o'clock, buzzing with the confidence of your pre-drinks. Rounds of shots were ordered and consumed at a dizzying pace, and soon enough, bags of powder were discreetly distributed across the table.

"Bathroom?" Hannah, one of your closest and least judgmental co-workers nudged you.

"Thought you'd never ask." The two of you sauntered away from the table, hand-in-hand, quickly bundling into a tight cubicle.

The bathroom filled up as the two of you tried to be as silent as possible, scooping your pinky nails into the small bag.

"Hurry the fuck up!" Someone from outside the cubicle called, thudding her fists against the door.

"Get fucked." You called back, muttering this bitch under your breath to Hannah.

As the two of you packed your things back into your handbags, the cubicle door jolted half open, smacking Hannah in the shoulder.

"Are you fucking serious?" You shouted at the small brunette on the other side of the door, checking Hannah over for injury.

"You hit me, you bitch." She straightened herself up, rubbing her shoulder.

"I'll do worse if you don't fucking move." The brunette hissed in her face.

You screwed your face up and shoved her, making her stumble backwards into the sink. The other girls in the bathroom grabbed their bags and scurried to the exit, evidently not wanting to be caught in the crossfire.

"Apologise." You said, moving toward the girl who was now pulling herself up with the help of the basins on either side of her.

"Fuck you." She spat, saliva hitting your cheek before she lunged forward.

Your fist connected with her nose before she even had time to swing, and your right hand secured a tight grip on the back of her hair.

"I said, apologise to my friend."

"I'm sorry." She choked, pathetically. Her face shrivelled in fear and pain.

"Not so fuckin' big now, are you?" Hannah said, which was ironic, considering the girl who had bruised her was now quivering under your fist.

Content with her apology, you released your grip on her and re-entered the bar with Hannah trailing behind you. As you both rejoined your table, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Our friend said you just attacked her in the bathroom." Another petite girl looked up at you, one hand on her hip.

"She hit my friend, here. Was just trying to teach her some manners."

The entirety of your group was now turned to face you, exchanging harsh whispers of your name followed by just leave it.

"You broke her nose!" The girl shrilled. You looked over her shoulder to the girl doubled over, clutching her bloody nose with an ensemble of people crowding around her.

"No, I think it just looks like that."

You grinned at the rage growing behind her eyes, your smile unfaltering even as her fist collided with your cheek.

"Harder." You shouted, rolling your neck from side to side.

"What?!"

"Come on, hit me harder. I know you got it in you." She didn't take much convincing; her next punch knocked you backwards onto the table as everyone rushed to tear the two of you apart.

You stepped forward to finally let her have it when a pair of strong hands pulled you back.

"Get off!" You shouted, kicking against who you assumed to be security throwing you out. You just hoped they weren't calling the cops, too.

"C'mon, doll. You've had enough fun for one night." A familiar Southern drawl cooed, dragging you out into the warm night. "Now, that wasn't very ladylike of you, darlin'."

He let you go from his grip and you turned to face him. To your surprise, you were met with the smirk of the younger Miller brother.

"Tommy." You breathed, "I didn't see you in there."

"Well, lucky I noticed you ain't it." He grinned.

Spending so much time at the Miller's had you well acquainted with Sarah's uncle Tommy. He'd seen you in much worse states than this, and in turn, so had you.

"Didn't need you to swoop in and save me, Tommy."

"Wasn't saving you, sweetheart. Was savin' that poor girl." You both smiled at the tone of pride in his voice.

"You got somewhere to go, trouble? Don't think you should be hangin' round here for too long."

"Can't exactly go home bleeding from my face." You sighed, realising you probably hadn't thought this through. You missed Sarah.

Tommy fished around in his pocket for his phone before raising it to his ear.

"Hey, big brother." Your stomach flipped. "No, no- it's not me. Joel, listen." You could almost hear Joel on the other end of the phone, witnessing it in person more times than you could count. It's not even ten o'clock yet, don't tell me you're locked up already.

"Our favourite little troublemaker needs a place to crash tonight. I'd drive her over but I've already had my fair share of beers. Okay, great. I'll tell her."

Once he'd hung up, Tommy told you that Joel was on his way to come and pick you up. You could feel your heartbeat in your stomach. You'd never been alone with Joel for longer than a couple of hours at most, let alone spending the night at his while Sarah was out of town. Something inside of you twitched in excitement, a warm rush settling deep in your belly.

You told Tommy to go back into the bar, that Joel wouldn't be long and you'd walk down the street to meet him in case those girls came out looking for another round.

As you made your way underneath the streetlights toward the direction of the Miller's house, you pulled your compact from your bag and touched up your make-up, re-curling your lashes and dousing a thick layer of clear lipgloss onto your lips, not bothering to tend to any of the blood trickling down your skin. You spritzed yourself with perfume and ran a brush through your hair, smiling at the thought of Joel seeing you waiting on the curbside for him.

Right on cue, his truck pulled around the corner. You raised your hand and wiggled your fingers, a small smirk spreading across your cheeks.

You were grateful for your earlier decision to wear your knee-high boots with a denim mini-skirt, adding a little extra sway to your hips as you made your way to the passenger side of Joel's truck. You climbed in and turned to face him, flashing him a toothy grin, well aware of the blood staining your teeth.

"You're a damn mess, princess." Something deep inside of you came to life at his words, causing you to visibly clench your exposed thighs together. "S'there I was, thinking to myself how thankful I am for a peaceful night after workin' lates all week. When my phone rings, just as I'd sat down and made myself comfortable."

"Peace is overrated." You replied.

"So, what did you do this time? Steal another cop car? Break into a hotel pool? Make out with someone's husband?"

You played with the hem of your skirt as he spoke, blushing as he listed a few of your past activities he'd either bailed you out of or heard about from Sarah.

"I didn't start this one." You said, a slight whine in your voice. "Someone hit my friend, I was just looking out for her."

"Your friend can't fight her own battles?"

"You never have a problem when it's Sarah I'm throwing punches for."

He scoffed. "Now, you know I've always taught her to never start a fight but always to finish one. You on the other hand, I don't think nobody's taught you anythin' of the sort."

"And are you gonna be the one to do that, Mr Miller?" You mimicked his Texan accent, which was much thicker than yours, and parted your legs in your seat ever so slightly.

"If I didn't know you better, darlin', I'd think you were tryin' to get me in some sort of trouble."

He pulled into the driveway and switched the ignition off before jogging to your side of the truck and holding the door open for you, as well as offering you an outstretched hand.

"Always such a gentleman." You smiled, looking at him through your eyelashes as you stepped out, hand in his.

He exhaled out of his nose, shaking his head softly as he slammed the door shut behind you. His hand moved to the small of your back, guiding you into the house.

"Sarah's bed is all made up, I'm sure you know where her clothes are f'you wanna change into something more... comfortable." His eyes trailed down your figure, your clothes hugging all the right places.

"Do you not like my outfit?" You pouted, holding your hands behind your back and sticking your chest out, swaying from side to side.

"Course not, y'look real pretty. Just thought you'd wanna watch TV before going to sleep is all." Joel brought a hand to the back of his head, rubbing his neck nervously as his eyes shifted to the floor.

For such a handsome man, he was so damn insecure. Maybe it was the gentleman in him, thinking that it was wrong for someone his age to want someone the same age as his daughter. He knew you didn't think like that, Sarah had told him multiple stories about the older men you'd hooked with at the bar.

He'd even caught you making out with a kid from your school's dad a few years ago when he'd come to pick you and Sarah up from a party. Joel had seemingly known the man, and you remembered how he'd stalked out of his truck and toward you both, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and warning him that his wife wasn't going to like hearing about this.

So, you kicked off your boots and took yourself upstairs into Sarah's bedroom. Not bothering to close the blinds, you peeled your clothes off and looked at yourself in the full length mirror.

The warmth of your earlier drinks still coated your inhibitions. You knew you looked good in your black lace set, breasts sat perkily on your chest and your ass cheeks the perfect handfuls.

Fuck it. If he wasn't going to be ballsy enough to make the first move, maybe you should.

You kissed the tips of your fingers and pressed them against a framed photo of you and Sarah giggling at whatever was going on behind the camera.

"Sorry, Sarah." You whispered, before making your way down the stairs.

Joel heard you coming but was too preoccupied fighting with the TV remote control to turn around and face you just yet.

"If I can get this damn thing to work I think they're showin' Scarface at ten, I know you said you ain't seen it so thought we could watch it."

"Sounds good," you spoke, your voice more honeyed than usual. "Hey, Joel. Do you think this will be comfy enough?"

He whipped his head around quickly, ready to give you the same kind of answer he did whenever Sarah asked for his opinion in a changing room. It took a second for him to register what he was looking at, but when it clicked he dropped the remote to the floor and turned his whole body to face you.

"What the hell," his face turned bright red, unsure what to do with his hands. You could give him a few ideas.

"You not like it?" You asked, voice low as you walked slowly in his direction.

His trousers began to tighten around his hardening cock and you smiled, glad that you were indeed on the same page.

"Course I- I, what the hell are you playin' at?"

"Come on, Joel. I gotta make up for interrupting your peaceful night somehow."

You closed the gap between you both and placed a hand delicately on his chest, tracing circles with the tip of your long, manicured nails.

Joel swallowed hard.

"This ain't right." He said weakly, his eyes betraying his words as they devoured the sight of your body before him.

"Cut the shit, Joel. I know you want me, and I want you."

He didn't answer, but instead threw you over his shoulder and carried you up to his bedroom, placing a couple of firm smacks on your ass as you wriggle against his strong grip. Your stomach did backflips, exhilarated at the prospect of what was about to happen.

Upon entering his room, he threw you roughly onto the bed and worked at undoing his belt as you scrambled onto your back, resting on your elbows.

"Y'know what I really thought when Tommy called, tellin' me I needed to come pick you up?" He said, although it didn't sound much like a question. "I thought, this dumb slut needs some sense fucking into her."

You moaned at his words, basking in the side of him that you knew always existed.

“Thought t’myself, she needs teachin’ some fuckin' manners f’once.”

Joel stalked around the side of the bed and sat and patted his lap. Wordlessly, you shifted your weight next to him and dangled your legs over the side of the bed.

He brought his right hand in between your thighs, making you shiver at the feeling of his coarse fingers grazing your skin. He ran his fingers up and down the length of your thigh, each time stopping short of the hem of your skirt.

"This is what you want, ain't it sweetheart?" He spoke lowly, voice gravelly and as rough as his touch. Each night spent tangled and alone in your sheets, fingers grazing your soaked folds with his name on your lips felt redundant. Nothing could come close to the feel of his skin on yours.

Pulling you from your trance, he slapped your inner thigh hard when you didn't respond. "Need t'hear you say it."

"Yes,' you moan through gritted teeth, surprised you can even find your voice. "This is what I need."

Sick of his incessant teasing, you clamber onto his lap and hook your fingers around the back of his neck.

"But I think you need this just as much, Mr Miller. You must get so lonely in this house all by yourself. Sarah always tells me how you never have any lady friends hanging around."

You straddle his lap and grip his neck for support, softly grinding yourself on the hardness of his lap. He moves a hand from your waist to roughly seize your chin, tipping your face down to meet his gaze.

"Your old man must've forgot to teach you some manners, little girl." His low voice tore through your body.

Joel hoists your skirt up to your waist and flips you underneath him in one swift motion. His body looms over yours, fingers trailing a rough and jagged line down to where you need him most. He moved at an antagonising slow pace, but you can't bring yourself to give into his little game by begging for more.

"Here's what we're gonna do, darlin'. You're gonna be a good girl f'me and tell daddy exactly what happened tonight." The mouth on him.

The way your body writhed and squirmed at his words didn't go unnoticed. With no warning, he plunged two thick digits inside of you and held them deep in place, his face inches away from yours.

"N'if you stutter, or lie, or say anythin' I don't like for that matter, you'll be over my knee, red-raw," his fingers curl inside of you and you bite back a moan, desperate to not let him have the upper hand.

"No matter how much you cry those pretty little eyes out, I won't quit 'til you've learnt somethin'. Understood?"

You suck a breath in through your nose, a sharp sting reminding you of the open wound still decorating your face.

"Yes, sir."

part 2 coming soon

taglist: @cool-iguana @nostalxgic @chaotic-mystery @beardedjoel

[adventuringblind]

Don't Leave Us

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: With the mass amount of online hate and a relationship that's not public, it all gets too much.

Warnings: graphic depictions of self-harm, graphic depictions of suicide

Notes: I hope you're doing okay, Nonny! Maybe this will help you like it does me :)

side note: I am not above begging for interaction. Fill my inbox with feral driver thoughts! Interact with my posts! It feeds my praise kink and makes me giggle and kick my feet 🥰

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It's not like the toxicity of social media is a new thing. She's always known that it could happen. She just wasn't expecting it to be so... much.

Her relationship with Max and Charles isn't out for the public. There are dangers that come with opening that up for everyone to get a glimpse of. Reporters waiting to make snide remarks. Fans that want to bash on the drivers they dislike.

Plus, she's not famous. People don't notice her. At least - they didn't until recently.

Some WAG account had managed to get photos of her with either Max or Charles. Not the three of them together. Speculative fans determined she must be playing both of them.

Not all of them, some people defend her. Those comments make her cry out of relief that at least someone isn't trying to tear her down.

She doesn't bring it up to either of the boys. They have enough on their plates as is. Stress and sickness become her new best excuses to not go out in public.

Sure, she's isolating herself and not talking to anyone. Carmen and Lily keep trying. She's just not ready to show her face.

Nothing is sacred anymore. The rumors are too much. Even avoiding all social media isn't enough. She can't even leave her house without someone trying to discreetly take her photo.

Her skin burns with attention every time she steps out the door. She can't eat knowing people are always looking at her. She can't even go to the shop to get groceries or to her mailbox.

It gets worse by the day. Soon enough, someone figures out where she lives. Knowing she has a stalker makes every ounce of security she once had vanish.

It's miserable seeing her information leaked out for everyone to see. Privacy is now a luxury of the past. It's enough to send her spiraling.

When her safety is called into question, Max and Charles bring her to Monaco. They are willing to risk it for her. Their attempt at giving her some piece of mind by staying in the same apartment only makes her thoughts darker.

She's the reason there is so much negative publicity. The sharks are circling them, just waiting for one wrong move. Is she ready to be the catalyst for her lovers' downfall?

The thought sends her stomach up her throat. The thoughts swirl around her head, paralyzing her body into a perpetual state of fear. Stuck in a luxurious Monaco penthouse. Because people being toxic and stalking her is such a horrible problem to have. She should just suck it up; pretend everything is fine.

So then, why is it so hard? Why can't she just be alright?

One week. A plan in her head and a smile plastered on her face. The boys haven't asked about it. Their concern shows in the facial expressions, but they don't push. Maybe it would be better if they did. Send her already crumbling walls to the ground.

She deep cleans on Monday. She does her best to make sure the apartment isn't in disarray, that her own things are packed away, so they won't have much to deal with. The contrasting red and blue of Max and Charles' clothes are the only things left in the closet when she's done.

Speculations start again on Tuesday. Max and Charles spend all day in some PR meeting about it. It gives her time to sort out her affairs without them hearing her. She cooks them dinner to help ease the frustrations. Their teams don't want them to come out, but they do.

Wednesday, they leave to their next destination. She doesn't leave the hotel room despite the concerns of others. Carmen and Lily come around at some point. They eat in with her and kick out the boys. It feels normal for the first time in months. She almost breaks and tells them.

Thursday is media day. She feels for both boys as they get asked invasive questions about their love life. They look stressed. She gets hugged a little tighter that night. It calms the thoughts, but it's not enough. They hurt more every day. She's just wants it to stop.

Practice on Friday goes well for both. Max and Charles are in better spirits. She drags herself out to eat with them. the boys don't care who sees. She does. The anxiety nearly suffocates her. eyes crawling over her skin. Please, make it stop.

Saturday is a wreck. The qualifying is difficult for both her partners. Their relationship status is once again coming under fire. The speculating is becoming extreme, enough for the whispering of the paddock to become deafening to her ears. She spends her time hiding away, writing her last thoughts in messy scrawl.

Sunday, they turn the weekend around. The podium has always suited them. Smiling for everyone to see and dousing each other in champagne. She smiles too, even though it hurts.

They fly back to Monaco that night. Conversation turns to going public despite team wishes. They are willing to risk it for her. She can't bring herself to say yes. They worked hard to live their dreams; she won't ruin it for them.

Monday comes around again. The notes are laying out on the table. The boys are with their friends, some kind of brunch get together.

She leaves the bathroom door unlocked.

The bath filled, her clothes still on. Her thoughts finally still. Tears streak down her face.

The water is cold.

Then it's red.

~~~~~

"I worry about leaving her alone." Charles pulls the car back into its spot.

"Well, if we brough her along it wouldn't be much of a surprise, yes?" Max checks his watch again. "Plus, what could she have done in the fifteen minutes we were gone?"

They haul the ridiculous number of snacks to the front door. They decided last week they would see if they could coax the female out of her depressive state, just for a little while. Maybe get her to confide in them. If not, then at the very least a therapist.

The distance is damn near suffocating. She's so close physically, yet so far away mentally. Always staring at the walls with a distant look in her eyes.

The apartment is eerily quiet when they step inside. The kind that Charles despises after living in a chaotic house with two brothers and three busy schedules his Maman had to keep track of.

He drops the bags and peers around the entry way. Then searches the corridors until he finds one of the bathroom doors closed.

Charles knocks on the door but receives no response. "Cheri? Are you not feeling well?"

Charles almost dives out of the way when Max comes barreling down the hallway. The Dutch tries the doorknob, heavy breathing filling the odd silence.

Charles pales at the sight revealed to him. Paralyzed that this horrific scene could even be a possibility. Is he dreaming? He has to be - there isn't any way for this to be real... right?

"Charles!-" the Monegasque is dragged from his thoughts. Real or not, Max needs his help. Scratch that - she needs his help. "- Get an ambulance!"

Charles fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes the call. Max is desperate trying to stop the bleeding from the vertical slit traveling her forearm. "Is she...?" He can't finish the thought. Heart being through his chest at the possible answer.

"Pules is there but faint." Max sounds like he's desperately trying to hold back his tears. His mind working desperately to keep her alive.

Charles must space out. He doesn't remember opening the door or watching her be carried out by the swift paramedics. The car ride doesn't register, not until they are already in the waiting room.

Max hands him her notes. The paragraphs she wrote to them. A final goodbye in messy scrawl, but the tails of her letters still curled.

"She did it for us, Charlie, because she thought she was hurting us."

They both break down in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Charles violently sobbing. Neither of them respond to their messages. Phones buzzing with calls that go to voice-mail.

A doctor comes calling her name. Charles is only half listening. Specifically looking for either a confirmation of death or the relief of hearing that she's okay. Max seems to be paying attention. His shoulders sag, and there is a soft look on his face when they are left to their own devices.

"She's alive, Charlie."

He erupts until tears once more.

~~~~~

Everything hurts. Her thoughts are fuzzy. There is something soft beneath her.

The white ceiling is paired with the burning smell of alcohol. A sterile environment. Meaning-

Fuck. How did it go so wrong? How had they managed to keep her alive?

The beeping on the heart monitor picks up. A sign that she's definitely alive and in a hospital.

Her attempts at moving are futile. There is too much pain and exhaustion to do so. A pulsing behind her ears drowns out the thumping of her heart.

"Rest now, amour."

It takes a single stroke of Charles' fingers on her cheek to make her entire facade shatter into nothing.

She's mumbling incoherent words. It's a string of apologies, rants of anger and embarrassment, and confusion at why they are even here with her. They are continually reassuring her. They coo into her ear how they are so glad she's alive. That she doesn't have to fight whatever battle through hell this is alone.

Recovery is difficult. They have to put her on a suicide watch, but Max and Charles somehow manage to keep her out of the psychward. Mostly because they want to be with her at all hours of the day.

They miss a singular race for her. Then drag her to the next. Part of the deal they had made was that they won't sacrifice their careers for her.

They negotiated with the teams. Managed to wriggle around their soft spots and get them to approve going public. Max and Charles want to openly defend her. No more public executions. They'er pulling her out of the shark infested waters that is the media.

It's slow. People ask about it sometimes; why Charles and Max had missed that race. None of them give an answer. They aren't obligated to.

"Why fight for me?" She asks. a year after the events.

"Because chéri, we love you enough to help you carry the burden."

"Honestly liefste, we fight for what we believe in. We believe in you and the love you have for us."

"Maybe it's selfish, but we want to share that with you. Keep you here with us to go on adventures and explore the different paths life offers."

"So don't leave us yet. You are worth every sacrifice."

[lee-laurent]

Falling Fast - Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke and Tori finally realize how much they need each other. John starts to question if he can really ever get over Tori

content: fluff, LOTS OF FLUFF, slight angst, mentions of sex but no smut, money issues, oc x ex!john marino

wc: 2.2k

notes: PART 4 of the 'done trying' series! go check out parts 1-3 if you haven't already! this one is heavily tori and luke focused. not a lot of riley in this one. also some john moments. but mostly luke and tori!! my favs!!! ENJOY!!

The front door swung open, revealing an exhausted John. Riley was sitting on Tori's lap on the couch, Scooby Doo playing on the TV, a pacifier in his mouth. Tori didn't even look up at the sound of the door, continuing to stroke her son's hair. She'd finally got him settled, after having a meltdown over his bath. Finally dressed in his pjs and calm, Tori was not about to get up and ruin that. She was slightly aware of what had happened at practice thanks to a text from Luke. She wasn't mad at Luke, just John.

"Dada?" Riley mumbled, his eyes half closed.

"Yeah, bubba. Dada's home," Tori whispered back, pressing a kiss to the back of his head.

John entered the living room, leaving a cushion of space between himself and his ex-girlfriend. She didn't even look in his direction, focusing solely on the show playing on the TV. He sighed, earning Riley's attention.

"Dada has boo-boo!"

"Dada's okay, baby. I promise," John forced a smile.

"Hurt?"

"No, no, I'm okay, Ri. Dada just fell at work."

"O-tay," the toddler nodded, cuddling back into his mom's chest. Tori would never get over how compassionate Riley was. He cared about everyone so much, especially his parents. She looked at John through the corner of her eyes, noting the black eye that their son was concerned about.

"There are frozen peas in the freezer," was all she said, returning to humming along with the theme song.

"Thanks," John huffed, moving to the kitchen.

"You ready for bed, sleepy boy?"

Riley nodded, tucking his head into Tori's neck. She stood up, carrying him down the hall to his room. She hummed a lullaby, rocking him until his eyes finally closed. With a click of a button, white noise filled the room and Tori was finally able to breathe easy. At least for a second.

"Here," she frowned, shoving a blanket and pillow into John's arms.

"What?"

"For the couch. So it's a bit more comfortable."

"Oh. Uh, thanks?"

"Yeah. Whatever. If he sleeps all night tonight, feel free to move back out. And don't make a habit of beating up my boyfriend, that's not the model you should be setting for your son."

"Boyfriend?"

"That's all you got from that?" she rolled her eyes, filling up her water bottle.

"So, he's your boyfriend now?"

"Not officially."

"But in your head he is, huh? You really think he can fill that hole in your heart?"

She could feel the anger bubbling in her chest, but took a deep breath, not wanting to argue with Riley trying to sleep.

"Grow up."

John scoffed, "My parents are coming this weekend. Can Riley stay at mine?"

"Why can't they come here and see him?"

"Because they don't..."

"They don't like me. I get it. Sure. I'll pack his bag in the morning."

"Are you gonna go see Pop and Nanny?" Tori smiled, helping Riley put on his little backpack.

"Pop 'n Nanny!"

"Yes! Pop and Nanny! Can Mama have a hug goodbye?"

"Bye, Mama! 'Uv 'oo!"

"I love you too, baby! Be good for Dada!"

"I'll have him back here Monday morning?" John offered.

"Yeah, that works. See ya."

"Bye."

With John gone, Tori could actually breathe. She started by cleaning up Riley's room and then the living room. Making herself a cup of coffee and turning on her favourite movie, "Dead Poets Society." She'd invited Luke to stay the weekend, so now she was just waiting for his arrival.

"Miss me?" a voice rang through the apartment.

She pulled herself off the sofa, throwing her arms around the taller boy.

"Yeah. A lot. Let me see your lip," she pulled his face down closer to hers, inspecting his busted lip.

"You should see the other guy."

"I did. He looks worse," she shook her head, failing to hide her smirk. "I'm so sorry, babe. He shouldn't have gone after you like that."

"It's fine, V. He's just... getting over you. Slowly."

"Trust me, I know. Come sit, I missed cuddling you."

"What else did you miss about me?" he teased.

"Nothing. Just the cuddles. Although you'll always be second to Riley on the cuddle scale. He's a pro."

"I bet he is. How're you feeling about him being with John this weekend?"

"Way to tear the Band-Aid off, Hughes!"

"Sorry, sorry."

"No, I, uh... I don't know. It's fine, I guess. I know he's safe with John, I just... things with John are really shit right now. And I know he's gonna tell his parents and then things with them will get even more shit. It's such a snowball effect."

"You've got me. I'll support you, baby."

"Thanks, Lu," she nuzzled her nose against his, giving him a quick peck.

"I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Shoot."

"Well... we've been on a few dates now... and I, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to be my girlfriend?"

Tori hesitated, pretending to think over her answer, "Of course I'll be your girlfriend, Luke."

"Phew! You scared me for a second there."

"I just... I'm not sure how kindly John will take to that."

"Doesn't matter right now, love. We've got the whole weekend to ourselves. Where should we start?"

"Movie?"

"Movie it is."

"This is sad," Luke complained, shifting Tori on his lap.

"So? You made me watch Secretariat."

"I didn't make you watch anything."

"Whatever. You know what I meant. Also shut up."

"Never. We both know you secretly love hearing me yap."

"Meh."

"Don't lie, Tori. You could listen to me talk allllll day," he teased.

"Maybe. I'd rather listen to you than Jack... don't tell him I said that."

"HA! I won't... I won't. But seriously, this movie is so sad."

"It's a masterpiece, Lu. You just don't get it like I do."

"Guess I'm not woke like you."

"Shut up. This part is good."

"Why're they standing on the desks?"

"Stop asking questions!"

"I'm just a little lost, baby."

"They're standing in solidarity with their teacher."

"So they got on top of their desks? That'd get you a detention."

Tori leaned up, kissing him swiftly, "Shut up. And you'll get more of that."

"Deal," he smirked, watching the credits roll.

"You're taking up the whole bed," Luke complained, scooching away from the edge.

"No, I'm not."

"You totally are. You're half my size and taking up double the space."

"I'm comfy."

"I'm not."

"Boo fucking hoo."

"Babe," he whined.

"Fine," she moved over, laughing as Luke quickly pulled her in to spoon.

"You smell so good," he mumbled into her hair.

"Thanks, babe."

"You're like a fucking heater. I love it."

"Lu."

"Hm?"

"Shut up and sleep."

"Make me."

She shook her head, flipping over and straddling him. He smirked, his hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Hi."

"Hi, Lu," she leaned down, connecting their lips.

"I could kiss you forever."

"Then stop talking and kiss me."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Luke hated early mornings, in fact he was known for sleeping in. As a mom, Tori couldn't say she was the same. She was up every morning at 7 like clockwork. "Sleeping in" to her was waking up at 8. So as she lay staring at the ceiling, her boyfriend snoring next to her, she felt so useless. She needed to be up doing something. Cleaning. Making breakfast. Going on a walk. Taking a shower. Anything but this. She was accomplishing nothing!

"Luke."

Nothing.

"Luke," she shook him slightly. He just groaned, pulling her closer to him. She laughed, maybe she could sleep for a little bit longer.

Two hours later, she was awake again. This time thinking of ways she could convince Luke to get out of bed. She started by flipping in his arms, tracing her finger over his bare chest. He stirred, letting out a quiet hum. She traced her fingers over his abs, feeling the ridges under her fingertips. God, he was hot. He reached out, grabbing her wrist.

"Don't start something you can't finish," he mumbled, eyes still closed.

"Who said I wanted it to end," she giggled, his grip on her loosened. His eyes opening very slightly.

"I'm listening..."

"Well, I need a shower. And I thought... I don't know, maybe you'd like to join."

"Yeah?" he smirked.

"Mhm."

"Let's go."

"Let me under the water!" Tori complained, Luke's height blocking any of the warm water from hitting her bare body.

"But it's sooooo relaxing."

"Yeah? And I'm fucking freezing! Let me in!"

"Fine," he huffed, standing behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his front. She sighed contently, finally being able to embrace the warmth of the water. He slowly snuck his hand up her body, resting it to cup right under her breast.

"What're you doing, Lukey?"

"Enjoying the shower with my smoking hot girlfriend."

She giggled, a blush covering her face. She turned in his arms, kissing him passionately.

"Wanna finish what you started?" he teased.

"Gladly."

"What shampoo is it?" Luke asked, looking at all the bottles lining the wall.

"We're wasting water at this point. I don't have the money for this," Tori sighed worriedly.

"Are you... are you being sarcastic?"

"No, Luke. I'm not a loaded NHL player. Water costs money. We should just get out."

"Babe, shhh. All is well. I'll pay the extra amount on the water bill. I promise."

"You don't have to do that."

"I don't, you're right. But I want to. Now which bottle is the shampoo? I wanna give you a relaxing shampooing."

"It's the red one," she sighed, allowing Luke to run his hands through her hair. She needed this. The stress melted away as he massaged at her scalp, admiring the small hums that left her mouth.

"You're so pretty, Tori."

"Thanks, Lukey."

"Any time, baby. Now... for the body wash."

She let out a loud laugh, smacking her hand against his chest, "I can manage that part."

"Are you sure? Might be difficult."

"I've got it."

"Would you mind helping me?"

"Luke Hughes, you dog."

"What?! Can't help it when you're this fucking beautiful."

She blushed, "Thanks, Lu."

"That's what I'm here for. To make sure you know that you're the most important girl in the world."

The couple was laying on the couch, Tori running her hand through Luke's hair. He was watching some hockey thing on the TV that she didn't understand, occasionally pointing out details to her. Her phone started buzzing, a sigh leaving her mouth as she swiped to accept the call.

"Hello?"

"Victoria! How've you been, love?" her mother asked excitedly.

"Oh, um... okay. Just watching some TV."

"Where's my Riley?"

"At John's. His parents are in town. They wanted some time with him, I guess."

"Well, awfully rude of them to take him away from his mother. Especially when you were just fixing that sleep schedule of his."

"Mom, it's not-"

"Don't say it's not a big deal, Victoria! It is. They are so rude to you."

"Mom-"

"Let me finish! They never consider how you feel about things. I just... I wish they'd listen to you, dear."

"Mom, all is well. Riley loves spending time with his dad. And I get some much needed time to relax."

"That is nice, isn't it? Some much needed you time. Not you and Riley time."

"It's lovely. I'm just here with-"

"With Ally? Hi, Ally!"

"No, Mom!" Tori laughed, "Luke."

"Oh, Luke! How lovely! How is he?"

"He's good, he's good. Half asleep, but good."

"I can't believe you're finally dating again! Only took you over a year."

Tori rolled her eyes, "Yes, I know, Mom. Why'd you call?"

"Just wanted to check in. Make sure you're not too overwhelmed. See if you needed some money."

"We're actually doing alright, at the moment. I had enough to get Riley some extra snacks this week."

"Oh! Isn't that just wonderful! Remember if you ever need a few extra dollars..."

"I know, Mama. I love you."

"I love you, Vicky! Talk to you soon."

"Bye, Mom."

"Your mom seems nice," Luke commented, his voice muffled by Tori's shirt.

"Hm? Yeah, she's the best."

"I, uh, I didn't realize you were having... money problems."

"It's not something I enjoy talking about. John's child care is my saving grace most times. I just... I want Riley to have everything he needs."

"I-"

"Don't offer me any money, Hughes. I'll dump your ass right here, right now. I'm a strong, independent woman."

"Of course. I know you are, babe."

"Thanks for staying with me this weekend, Lu."

"Whenever you need it."

"How would you feel about formally spending some time with Riley?"

"Really?!" he sprung up, his eyes wide.

"Yeah. Why? Are- are you not ready for that?"

"No! No! I'm so ready! I just... are you ready?"

"I mean, I won't tell him you're my boyfriend. He won't understand that. But... I want him to meet you. Spend some time together. Cause... if you guys don't click... I don't know what I'd do."

"Well, let's set up a playdate!" Luke grinned, reassuringly rubbing her back.

"Okay, yeah. Let's do it."

God, how would John react when he found out Riley was spending time with Luke? Fingers-crossed that he won't overreact. Tori wasn't sure she could deal with anymore dramatic arguments with her ex. Guess she'd have to wait and see.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 8

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Monday Morning

Kiyana walked into work that morning feeling like shit was going to hit the fan. Her date with Eli was… wonderful.. It took a while for her embarrassment to go away from Josh showing up and showing his ass but after getting over that they had a great time. If she was being honest, she could see herself settinging down again with him. She had a soft smile on her face as she walked over to the nurses station after checking in on a patient. 

Kiyana jumped as Debra plopped down on the chair next to her. “Spill the tea, tell me everything.” Kiyana laughed at her use of slang that she definitely learned from one of her grandchildren.  Kiyana smirked and contented to chart, laughing when Debra reached over and turned off the computer monitor. 

“Debra!.” She chortled, turning her chair to she was facing Debra who flagged her off.

“It was only the monitor, your work is good.” Debra rolled her eyes. “Spill!” Kiyana rolled her eyes aswell before telling Debra all about her and Eli’s date, minus her ex-husband showing up, she did not want to relive that, at all.  

Kiyana told Debra all about her evening with Elijah, how he took her to The Grand Marlin, how they took a nice stroll on the beach after dinner and when Kiyana told Debra that she and Elijah had gone back to his place, Debra’s eyes were as wide as saucers. 

“Wait, stop” Debra whispered, leaning in closer to Kiyana so none of the other nurses could hear what they were saying. “You guys didn’t… you know.” Kiyana bit her lip before she responded to Debra. 

“No, I mean we didn’t go all the way, if you know what I mean.” Debra’s eyes were still wide but there was now a smirk on her face. 

“Oh, I'm catching what you’re throwing.” she responded, making Kiyana laugh. “Was it good, better yet, was it better than your ex-husband?” 

“Oh my god, Debra!” Kiyana mutters as she placed her head in her hands, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment.  Debra stared at Kiyana as she awaited her answer. “Oh my god” Kiyana muttered again “it was good, but no, nowhere as close.” 

“Sorry to interrupt ya’ll.” One of the new nurses Arin, spoke up as she hung up the phone. “But we have a new patient coming into room 302. EMT’s said her contractions are 8 minutes apart, but she still wants to be admitted.” Kiyana nodded and stood from her seat to go get the patient’s room ready.

“We’re not done talking Nurse Jackson.” Debra called out after her and Kiyana made a yeah-yeah motion with her hand before walking away. Just as Kiyana finished putting a new sheet on the patient’s bed, the expected mother-to-be was rolled into the room. 

“Hi, I’m Kiyana. I'll be your nurse today.” She says as she walks over and helps the patient into the bed. 

“Nice to meet you.” The patient says, wincing in pain as another contraction hits her. Kiyana offers her hand so the patient could squeeze it. “Thank you.” 

“It’s no problem.” Kiyana smiles, “I’ve been in your position four times, I know them contractions hurt. Can I get your name and date of birth?”

“Alexis Daniels.”

'What a small world, Daniels isn't really a common last name.' Kiyana thinks as she logs into the computer to chart Alexis’ vitals.

“December 15th 1989” 

“Perfect, and what is baby boy's name?” 

“Me and my husband still haven’t fully agreed on a name yet, but I like the name Carter.” 

“That is such a cute name. It was my top choice for my youngest as well, but me and my - we went with Kairo.” Kiyana said, smiling at Alexis as she chided herself in her head for almost getting too personal with the patient, not everybody needed to know she was a divorced mother. “I can still put Carter in the chart or we can just call him baby Daniels until you and your husband come up with a name.” 

“Baby Daniels, is perfect. This is our third child but first boy and he really wants to be a part of the naming decision.” Alexis breathed out as another contraction hit her, she then cursed and threw her phone down next to her. “Speaking of husband, can you do me a huge favor.?” 

Kiyana stopped typing and turned her attention to Alexis. “Sure, anything you need.” 

Alexis smiles. “My husband actually works in this hospital, he’s a surgeon on the trauma floor. Do you think you can page him for me? He’s not answering his phone.” Alexis says, holding up her phone and Kiyana felt her stomach twist at Alexis’ words. 'Just a coincidence,' Kiyana thought. 'Just because her last name is Daniels doesn’t mean shit.'

“Mmhm, keep telling yourself that.” That other voice called out, making Kiyana frown. 

“Sure, I can.” She finally responded, plastering a smile on her face. “What’s his name?” 

“Elijah Daniels.”  Kiyana digs her fingernails into her thigh to stop herself from cursing. She was hurt. She felt sick to her stomach as she thought about what she and Eli did last night. 

“Shit, you got such a pretty pussy ma’” Elijah breathed out as he used his index and middle finger to spread her lips and suck her clit into his mouth. Kiyana moaned, lifting her hand to his head before frowning when she realized there was nothing there for her to grab on to. That thought quickly leaves her head as he thrust two of his fingers in her

She felt betrayed and played. Then she started to feel sick to her stomach. ‘Oh my god,’ She thought ‘I'm no better than that woman Josh was sleeping with.’ 

“Kiyana, are you okay?” Kiyana snapped out of her flashback, her voice shaking with anger as she responded back to Alexis 

“I’m fine. I’m gonna go page your husband for you.” Kiyana turns her back to Alexis and storms to the nurses station, snatching the phone off the hook she - as calmly as she could - pages Elijah to the labor & delivery floor. 

“Dr. Elijah Daniels to labor & deliver, Dr. Elijah Daniels to labor & delivery.” Debra arches an eyebrow at Kiyana. 

“You missed him that bad?” She jokes, laughing then stops as she feels the anger radiating off of Kiyana. “Sweetly what happened?” 

“That asshole is married with children! His wife is the patient in 302.” Debra’s jaw dropped open. “I feel so freaking stupid.” She hissed out just as the elevator dinged and the doors opened, revealing a cheerful Elijah who was smiling brightly as he made his way towards Kiyana. 

“I knew that was you, are you okay? Is everything good?.” He smiled, and Kiyana struggled to maintain her composure, because at that moment, all she wanted to do was to smack that smile off his damn face. The more she looked at him, the angrier she got. 

“I don’t know, you tell me.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Your wife is in room 302 waiting to deliver your third child.” She felt a sick satisfaction flow through her as the smile slowly left his face. Debra quickly decided to leave them alone, deciding it was time to go check on her patient. 

“Wait, I can explain.” Kiyana held her hand up, cutting him off. 

“I don’t wanna hear shit you have to say to me Elijah. Think about how your wife will feel once she finds -'' Elijah gripped her arm and pulled her down the hall, away from the nurses station. 

“She aint finding shit out, Kiyana. What I do ain’t none of her damn business.” When she tried to pull her arm away, he gripped it tighter, “You don’t know what I'm capable of Kiyana. You’re gonna go back in that damn room and help my wife through her discomfort and when the time comes, help deliver our child okay?!” He sneered at her, when she didn’t respond he squeezed her arm until she cried out in pain. 

“Ow! Stop. Okay! Okay!” She cried out in pain, feeling her tears sting her eyes. Elijah let go of her arm and straightened out his lab coat. 

“I’m gonna go check on my wife. I’ll see you later.” He brushed past her, leaving her rubbing her arm, where she knew she would be bruised, pulling his wedding ring out of the pocket and sliding it onto his finger. 

🙃🫣

i'm gonna go into hiding now

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[lumi-nescentt]

And When I Break It's In A Million Pieces

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

Warnings: kinda angsty, reader overworking herself, arguing and someone fainting

Words: 3.8k

Summary: Oscar can understand how important exams are to his girlfriend but he can't stand to see her overworking herself and this close to breaking down without trying to comfort her.

A/N: it was supposed to be a cute oscar one shot but I guess midterms kicked my ass so I had to make Oscar do what I would have loved someone to do for me.

Now that I'm done writing this I'll start on the requests :)

Oscar had been away on the last triple header of the season and as much as he loved racing and how good the car felt lately, he missed his girlfriend and couldn't wait to see her again.

She usually came with him as often as she could, but she had been drowning in homework lately so she had chosen to stay home and work a little extra to make sure she stayed up to date. Oscar didn’t mind, or at least he tried not to show it because he knew how bad she already felt for missing some of his best results in F1. 

The Australian knew how hard the girl was on herself and how she tended to forget to take care of herself when she got engrossed in her studies so he thought coming back as early as possible from the British Grand Prix was the best thing he could do. 

Flying from London to Melbourne felt like one of the longest trips Oscar ever had to endure and it was only worse because he was all alone. Usually he either had Lando, Logan or his girlfriend to entertain him during layovers and on the flight itself, but now as he sat on the first plane taking him from London to Qatar, Oscar felt bored to death.

He had chosen the earliest flight possible on Monday and that had been one that took off at 3pm so he wasn’t even tired enough to sleep. He had already watched a movie while waiting in front of the gate so he was honestly starting to run out of ideas on how to entertain himself. 

He considered paying for wifi access to try and chat with his girlfriend for a second but then realised that he had decided to plan his comeback in secret so she had no idea he was coming back. In the end, Oscar still paid for it just so he could play 8 ball with Logan and joke around with Lando. 

His two friends entertained him for a few hours, but when he landed in Qatar, they both had stuff to do so he was left all alone again. He had nothing to do during the layover in Dubai, so walking around the entire terminal at the slowest pace possible seemed like a good enough idea for the 2 hours he had to wait before boarding again. 

To say the 13 hours flight to Melbourne had been long was an understatement. It had only been made worse since he couldn’t sleep, so Oscar had watched the entirety of the Lord of the Rings trilogy and still had found time to be bored once he was done. By the time he finally arrived in front of the apartment he shared with his girlfriend, it was almost 1am and he hadn’t slept in 30 hours now. 

All he wanted to do was crash on his bed and cuddle against her but when he opened the door as quietly as he could, the first thing he saw was his girlfriend sitting on a barstool, hunched over her laptop on the counter. She had her headphones on and the volume was so loud Oscar could hear the song playing very clearly from where he was standing in the doorway.

After taking off his shoes and dropping his suitcase in a corner, he slowly made his way over, trying his best not to startle the girl. She was so engrossed in whatever she was reading that even with Oscar standing right next to her, her focus was still on her computer. She only flinched and snapped back to reality when Oscar delicately removed her headphones and put them next to her now empty coffee cup.

-“ Oscar ? What– How ? You were supposed to stay in Europe until the break.” she stuttered, too tired to understand how her boyfriend was standing in front of her

-“ Surprise !” Oscar smiled softly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “ I missed you too much to wait an entire month so I decided to come spend the week here.” 

-“ I don't know what to say, wow.” 

-“ Oh God, was it a bad idea ? I don’t want to intrude if you had plans, baby. I can ask my parents if I can stay at theirs instead if you want me out of your hair while you study.” 

-“ No no, it’s a good surprise, I just didn’t expect it, that’s all. It’s our flat so of course I want you to stay with me.” she quickly clarified, burying her head in the crook of his neck and tightening her arms around him

-“ Ok good, I got scared I was bothering you for a second.” he answered, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head

-“ Don’t say that Osc, you could never bother me. I’m always happy to see your pretty face in real life.” 

-“ So you think I’m pretty ?” the Australian asked with a proud grin

-“ Of course I do, pretty boy. Now as much as I’d love to keep this lovely flirting going, you must be exhausted so why don’t you get ready for bed and I’ll join you in a bit ?” 

-“ That sounds great, I’ll go shower and then we can cuddle because I can definitely feel the drop of temperature between here and the UK.” 

-“ It’s not even that cold but I won’t say no to that.” she smiled before turning back to her homework.

Oscar didn’t really know how long he stayed under the warm spray of the shower but judging by the amount of steam that was now filling the bathroom, he assumed he stayed for a little while. Since he took his time, he fully expected to find his girlfriend dozing off under the covers but when he reached the bedroom, the bed was still untouched. 

Gathering the remaining energy he had, Oscar dragged himself to the kitchen where she was still in the position he left her in. Her headphones were back on at a lower volume and she was now frowning and holding her head between her hands, seemingly trying to make sense of what she was reading. 

-“ Are you coming to bed soon ?” Oscar asked seeing the time on her laptop 

-“ Yeah, of course. Just give me a minute, I’ll meet you there.” she answered without looking at him

-“ Baby, it’s almost 3am. You need to sleep as much as I do.” 

-“ I know, I’m coming. Don’t wait up, you must be knackered.” she tried, squeezing the hand he had put on her shoulder to reassure him

-“ I want to sleep next to you. I’ll wait for you to finish what you’re doing. How long is this going to take you ?” 

-“ I don’t know, you shouldn’t stay awake for me. I promise I’ll cuddle you as soon as I’m in bed, you won’t even realise I’m not here at first.” 

-“ That’s not true, I always notice so will you come ? Please ?” 

-“ You’re lucky you’re cute and that I love you because I really need to finish this paper.” she finally caved in with a sigh, closing her laptop to face her boyfriend who was sleepily smiling at her

-“ I love you too, now come. I can tell you’re exhausted too.” 

Oscar linked their hands together and walked towards their bedroom, handing her one of his shirts as he stripped down to his boxer before hurriedly getting under the covers. At the sight of her cold boyfriend all cosy under the blankets, the girl couldn’t help but chuckle before she joined him and let him wrap his arms around her, resting her head against his chest and falling asleep to the comforting sound of his steady heartbeat. 

When Oscar woke up at 7am a few hours later, he brought his arm closer to the rest of his body, hoping to steal some of his girlfriend’s body warmth but his arm closed on nothing. With his eyes still closed, he patted her side of the bed, simply thinking she had rolled away from him but all he touched were the empty bed sheets. He would have assumed she had just gone to the bathroom if it wasn’t from how cold her side was. 

As hard as he wanted to tell her to come back to bed, Oscar wasn’t fully awake and he didn’t really think there was something he could do so he let himself fall back asleep for a few hours. When he opened his eyes again, finally feeling rested enough to figure out where she had gone, he was still alone in their empty bed. 

He made his way to the living room, secretly hoping she’d be all curled up on the sofa and had only moved there because he was snoring too loud but it was just as empty as their bed. Not liking where he thought this was going, Oscar went to the kitchen where his girlfriend was exactly in the same position he had found her hours earlier. 

Without saying a word, Oscar wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled his face in her neck like he knew she liked. When the only acknowledgement he got was a low hum without even a smile or a look towards him, he decided to try something else. He slowly turned his head and started kissing her neck tenderly, which always got her attention usually because she was never one to pass on getting some physical affection from him. He was so sure it was going to work that when she finally breathed in before talking, Oscar couldn’t stop the smile creeping on his face.

-“ Not now baby, please.” she brushed him off softly, without even looking at him

-“ Oh, okay. Sorry.” Oscar muttered, feeling his face flush from a wave of embarrassment he couldn’t stop

He quickly escaped to the opposite corner of the kitchen, getting busy with making breakfast to forget about the uneasy feeling coursing through his veins. It took him 15 minutes of meddling around before everything was ready and before he was ready to try to get her attention again.

This time, Oscar planted himself next to his girlfriend and put a coffee cup and a full plate with eggs and toast right next to her laptop before poking her shoulder with his finger to get her full attention.

-“ Hello there, I made you breakfast.” he half smiled

-“ Hi baby, that’s really sweet of you. Thank you.” she returned the smile, cupping his face with her hands before planting a soft kiss on his lips and turning back towards her homework

-“ I was wondering if you wanted to have breakfast together in the living room, maybe ?”

-“ I’m sorry Osc. I really need to study but don’t let me stop you, I know you love to eat there.” 

-“ Yeah, sure.” he started out loud before mumbling to himself as he exited the room “I don’t know what I was expecting.”

After his very lonely breakfast in front of a TV show he didn’t even want to watch, Oscar popped his head into the kitchen to see if she was done working. When he saw that she was still very focused on what she was doing, he decided to do something to occupy himself until she was finally free. He got dressed and yelled that he was going for a run before finally going outside. 

When he came back a little less than an hour later, Oscar was determined to spend some time with her so he hurriedly went to the bathroom to shower before eventually stealing her away from her homework. 

Once he was finally done, it was time for lunch and he was feeling like ordering so, while still looking at his phone, he went towards the kitchen and called her.

-“ I’m gonna order food, what do you feel like eating ?”

He waited a little bit for an answer but nothing came back so he walked a little closer and tried again.

-“ Baby ? Are you not hungry ?” 

Getting worried from the clear silence he was met with, Oscar walked in the kitchen but, to his surprise, he couldn’t see her.

-“ y/n ? If this is a joke, it’s not that funny. Where are you ?” he asked, feeling his heart beat a little faster

He knew she hadn’t gone out because both her keys and her car were still there so he went around the counter to go look into the laundry room when his eyes fell on something on the floor. Seeing his girlfriend laying down on the floor made his blood rush fast in his veins and he immediately kneeled down next to her and wrapped her hand in his.

-“ y/n, baby can you hear me ?” he tried again “ I’m going to put your feet on my lap, okay ? I’m not letting go of your hand, if you hear me just squeeze it.” Oscar explained, praying that he’d feel her grip tighten around his fingers

He felt the faintest squeeze but he wasn’t sure if he had imagined it or not so he tried again.

-“ Can you squeeze my hand again, please ?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper from how scared he was until he felt a clear squeeze “ Atta girl, you’re doing great.” 

Oscar felt his breathing slowly go back to normal as his girlfriend slowly gained back consciousness. He was still a bit shaken up but seeing her eyes fluttering open and feeling the constant squeezes of her hand on his was reassuring him. He waited a little more before asking her questions, not wanting to overwhelm her.

-“ Do you remember what happened ?” 

-“ I don’t know, I was just standing up to get another coffee and then I started feeling dizzy so I tried to call you but I don’t know if anything came out.” 

-“ Ok well at least you remember, you scared me to death there sweetheart.” 

-“ I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” she apologised, mortified that he had seen her like this

-“ Hey, none of that. Don’t apologise, I’m glad I came back in time to find you. I would’ve hated for you to be all alone here when you fainted.” he reassured her, bringing her closer to him

-“ What do you mean came back ? When did you go out ?” 

-“ I told you I was going for a run but I guess you were so focused on what you were doing you didn’t hear me. Next time I’ll make sure that you hear me.” 

-“ It’s fine, you don’t have to.” 

-“ I know but I want to. Now let’s get you something to eat, you didn’t even eat breakfast so you must be starving.” he stated, pointing at the plate he had made her a few hours earlier, still untouched on the counter

-“ I’m not really hungry actually.” she whispered, looking at her feet

- “ You have to eat something baby. I’ll just order something from your favourite restaurant and you can just eat however much you can, does that sound good ?”

-“ Yeah sure, thank you Osc.”

Oscar didn’t answer and instead just placed a kiss on the side of her head before standing up and picking his phone that he had left on the counter to get the food. While they waited for it to arrive, Oscar sent her to shower so she could relax a little before eating. Before leaving her be, he convinced her to let the door slightly open so she could yell if she felt dizzy again so he could also relax.

He always stayed within earshots of the bathroom as he got busy around the flat until the delivery guy arrived. Oscar wanted it to be quick but the guy recognised him and wanted to take a picture with him. Oscar wouldn’t have minded the picture if the guy also didn’t seem to want to become his friend and didn’t talk for what felt like ages. Oscar didn’t know how to make him stop without sounding rude so he just waited until he was finally done before hurrying back to his girlfriend. 

He expected her to either still be in the shower or to be waiting for him in the living room, resting like they had talked about after she fainted but she was the most stubborn person Oscar knew. That’s why he wasn’t exactly surprised when he found her back to her studying spot with her headphones only wearing one of his mclaren hoodies. 

-“ I thought we said no more studying for today ?” Oscar scolded her gently

-“ I know but I can’t just stop like that. I need to finish this part and then I can rest for a few hours.”

-“ Baby you fainted, that means your body is exhausted and you shouldn’t put yourself through this.” 

-“ I don’t have a choice, Oscar. The exam is coming up and I need to finish this paper too. I can’t just decide to take the day off because my stupid body decided to betray me.” she spat in one breath, feeling her heartbeat quicken just thinking of the ton of stuff she still had to do 

-“ Alright, just breathe please. You can definitely afford to rest for today. I know you and I know you’re capable of doing what you have left before the due date. Just come lie down with me for a bit while we eat.” 

-“ You don’t know that for sure. I can’t afford to take such a risk.” 

-“ Baby, please.” he pleaded, feeling how she was getting more worked up by the second

-“ I said no, Oscar !” she said through gritted teeth, trying not to raise her voice 

-“ Why can’t you just slow down for a second ? What’s the worst that can happen if you let go a little.”

-“ Slow down ? That’s rich coming from you mister always running around the entire globe to drive at 300kph.” she cringed at how high pitched her voice was getting

-“ You know that’s not what I meant, y/n.” 

-“ Then what did you mean because I clearly don’t get why you’re getting in my way here.” 

-“ I only meant that you’re going to tire yourself out over some homework and that it can’t be healthy.”

-“  I’m sorry ? Some homework ?!” she scoffed loudly “ This is the last class I need to have my diploma, if I fail it, I can say goodbye to my dream job. Don’t belittle what I do because you don’t understand it.” 

-“ That’s not how I meant it, y/n. I’m just worried about you.”

-“ I didn’t ask you to be, in fact I didn’t even ask you to be here. You were supposed to be away doing your stupid job while I was here studying on my own but no you just had to come back and tempt me with ideas of relaxing and hanging out with you when you know I can’t. I can’t just decide to go away and take a break because I miss my partner. Some of us have real jobs and they can’t run away whenever they want to, Oscar.”  she finally lost it, her eyes filling with tears as she realised what she had said

-“ Wow, hum alright. I think I’m just going to go outside for a bit.” Oscar muttered, grabbing his car keys and turning around as quickly as he could

As soon as she heard the door close, y/n broke down crying in the middle of the room. She hadn’t meant to snap at him, she knew he just cared about her and most of all, she didn’t think anything she said was true.

She knew how hard Oscar had worked to get to where he was now and she was so proud of how far he had come. She loved that he was able to do something he loved as his job and how he always made time in his busy schedule to either fly her to where he was staying or fly back home to see her. 

In all honesty, she had been missing him so much lately and all she wanted to was take a break and seek comfort in his arms but she couldn’t help the anxiety and the guilt that kicked in whenever she stopped studying even for a second. She had been staying up late and waking up at the crack of dawn for a week now, studying as much as she could before she had to attend classes. She barely had time to eat and she couldn’t remember the last time she had a decent meal. 

The mere thought of having hurt Oscar was filling her with guilt and she wished there was something she could do to take it back. She was so tired of feeling like this and right now it felt like she had pushed away the only person she wanted to comfort her. 

When Oscar opened the door half an hour later, he didn’t expect his girlfriend to come running to the door and then stop in her tracks the moment her eyes met his. She tried to open her mouth but tears started falling again and she was struggling to take a full breath. The sight tore Oscar’s hurt and he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her head against his chest. 

-“ It’s okay, baby. Just let go, I’m here.” he whispered, tracing circles on her back

-“ I’m sorry, Oscar. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean what I said. I–”

-“ I know, it’s okay. It’s already forgotten.”  

-“ It’s not okay. You didn’t deserve to hear that.” she sniffled, looking at him in the eyes “ I love what you do and I’m really happy you’re here. I’m sorry if I made you feel like it wasn’t the case. It’s no excuse but I’m frankly exhausted and you were just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

-“ Thank you for apologising. It’s forgiven and I promise you I’m not mad or anything.”

-“ You’re sure ?” 

-“ Yes, I wasn’t mad earlier. I was a bit hurt and I knew you needed time to calm down before we could have a discussion so I just went to the store to buy brownies and ice cream.” 

-“ That’s so sweet, Oscar, stop.” she said, feeling her voice shake slightly

-“ I was thinking we could take a proper break and eat in front of a movie. Then if you still want to work, I could help you study and after that we could take a bath ? How does that sound ?” 

-“ I love you so much.”

-“ Is that a yes ?” Oscar teased, smiling as he heard her laugh

-“ Yes it is.” she said, as he grabbed her hand and guided her towards the living room where the food was still waiting for them

-“ y/n ?” 

-“ yes ?” 

-“ I love you too.” 

-“ I know, now come here.” she smiled again, wrapping her arms behind his neck before pulling him down to kiss him properly 

Oscar hadn’t been sure of it at first but coming back home was the best choice he ever made for the both of them. They missed each other too much to wait a whole month to be together when they needed the other’s presence that badly.

[g1rld1ary]

hiiii🩷 i love your work and i wanted to request a drabble. i don’t know if you’ve done something like this before or not so… also im new to the whole requesting thing.

so it’s basically a lockwood x reader where lucy and george don’t know lockwood has a kinda secret gf. and one day she shows up to the door of 35 portland row and lockwood has to explain to them that he has a girlfriend. (he didn’t tell anyone to protect her or smth).

opening doors - lockwood x reader

wc: 1980

cw: mentions of an injury, one use of 'my girl' but otherwise gn i think?

an: thanku for requesting baby!!! sorry its taken a while but i lovedddd this request and writing this!! i know i changed the end a little bit but shh hopefully its ok!! xoxo

Dating whilst ghosts roamed the streets of London was hard. Dinner dates were a precarious decision and you had to be sure if you were spending the night pretty quickly for your own safety (against ghosts, men were still another question). Dating a ghost hunter? That was harder. Yes, he wasn't exactly a 'ghost hunter' but that was close enough from the stories your boyfriend told you; brushes with death were a common occurrence, much to your chagrin.

You couldn't count the number of times you'd sat up all night in your bedroom, waiting for a call to confirm that he was alright and alive after a case. But Lockwood was Lockwood and each time, just as your eyes were starting to close on their own, your phone would ring and you'd be startled awake, picking up as fast as your arms would let you. He'd open with an affirmation that everything was fine and he was sitting in the library with a hot cup of tea, ready for a chat with you.

This had been your routine for the six months you'd been dating, and while it had ruined your sleep schedule, you couldn't be happier. Lockwood had turned your world upside down after your chance encounter at your university while he was investigating a case, giving you adventures and the most love you'd ever felt. You were similarly obsessed with him, rambling on about your day over the phone and attaching to his hip whenever you could get together.

This was all true, except for the last four days. Lockwood told you on Sunday they had a high-paying case on Monday night and hadn't called you since. No confirmation he was alright, let alone alive, and it was killing you. He'd never forgotten, not once over six months. This ignited a panic in your stomach, anxiety clawing through your chest as you had to continue on with your week acting like you could think of anything other than your boyfriend.

On the fifth day, you'd had enough. And so, on Friday afternoon after your class had let out for the weekend, you marched to Portland Row for the very first time. Lockwood didn't want you around his business, saying he wanted to keep 'the best thing in his life' separate and as safe as possible. You didn't mind, you had a tiny apartment all to yourself that you were more than happy to host him in, but it did make your expedition more scary than it otherwise would have been.

Still, you steeled your nerves and rapped on the front door, picking your nails nervously as you waited for someone to answer. That person happened to be an unimpressed-looking boy who you recognised from Lockwood's tales as George.

"Can I help you?" He asked, wearing cartoonishly large rubber gloves that made you want to laugh.

"Is Lockwood here?" You took his lead to skip the pleasantries, none of it being even vaguely interesting to you until you knew your boyfriend was alright. George hesitated.

"He's not seeing anyone right now."

"Why not?" You all but cut him off, desperation making you forget your manners. He narrowed his eyes, clearly choosing his words clearly.

"He had a nasty accident on our last case. He's only gotten back from hospital today and is on strict bed rest. If you have a professional inquiry, you're welcome to return later or speak to me or my other colleague, Lucy Carlyle."

"Can I speak to Lucy?" You needed to talk to a girl. Clearly, George was not the most emotionally sensitive member of the company, and if you tried bartering a visit with him you had an inkling you'd start crying. If Lockwood's descriptions were anything to go off, Lucy was much more likely to understand you.

George let you in, clearly reluctantly, leading you to the kitchen. He awkwardly made you tea, leaving you to drink it silently as he went to fetch Lucy. You took the moment alone to take in the kitchen, a soft ache settling into the edges of your heart. It was so cozy, so lived in that it almost upset you. Lockwood and Lucy and George. They were the residents of 35 Portland Row, they got to wake up to one another every morning. They got to bicker over the jam and tea. You woke up alone, going about most of your days in silence unless you started talking to yourself, but you were really trying not to make that a habit.

It wasn't that you hated Lockwood keeping you a secret, it made complete sense. He was in a dangerous profession and had an even more impulsive nature, making for a risky lifestyle. And as he'd unwillingly told you, he did have people who occasionally came after him. Lockwood didn't want you caught in the crossfire and you understood, you were grateful, even. But looking at the life he led without you, you couldn't help but regret it a little bit. Portland Row was the kind of place you didn't even have to try to be able to imagine as your home.

You were interrupted by George returning with Lucy in tow, both clearly unprepared for a client. George was in some sort of cleaning gear, the aforementioned gloves and an apron over his shirt, and Lucy looked like she'd been working out but not for long, only a slight sheen on her features and her clothes still mostly light and moving.

"Hi, I'm Lucy," She greeted, a warm (if somewhat awkward) smile on her lips, "How can we help you?"

"I need to see Lockwood, please."

"You know we're not idiots, right?" George snapped, "Actually, I'm much more competent than him." Lucy shot him a dark look, elbowing him in the ribs as they sat across from you.

"What he means is that despite it being Lockwood's name on the sign, we're all fully qualified to talk to you and take your case. I'm not sure what George has said, but Lockwood is--"

"He's my boyfriend." You cut her off, unable to stand any more delay. You were met with dead silence, both agent's jaws dropped open.

"What?"

"He's my boyfriend," You affirmed, "We're dating and I need to see that he's ok."

"That's not possible." George shook his head, "He's never mentioned you."

"Not that we don't believe you, but can you tell us more? We just don't want to let any random person into our house, I'm sure you understand," Lucy added and you nodded instantly, more than aware that Lockwood had made enemies during his time with his company.

You started speaking, spilling the exact timeline of your relationship, details of your time together, vague suggestions that he'd told you about his family, anything you could think of to prove that you were really together. Then, like a lightbulb illuminating over your head, you reached into your coat pocket for your wallet. Sitting on the inside was a Polaroid of you and Lockwood, him kissing your cheek as you laughed. George grabbed it, examining it in disbelief. Even Lucy stole a glance or two before turning her focus back to you, new sympathy in her eyes.

"Will you please tell me what happened to him?" You begged, reaching out for Lucy's hand. She held yours firmly, speaking in a soft voice as she explained the incident.

"We were on a case on Monday and Lockwood took a leap down some stairs to get away from a ghost. He fractured his patella. It's fine, the doctor said he got pretty lucky all things considered, no surgery needed or anything. He was just kept in hospital for a few days because -- as I'm sure you know -- Lockwood isn't good at following instructions, especially orders not to get out of bed for a week. He only got back this morning which I assume is why he hasn't communicated with you." You nodded slowly, taking it all in.

"Can I see him, please?"

They both nodded quickly, leading you up the stairs to where you assumed Lockwood's bedroom lay. Lucy knocked before cracking the door open, smiling softly at her boss.

"We've got a guest here for you."

"A client? Can't you talk to them? I'm not in my professional clothes!" You could hear him rustling in the bed sheets, presumably pushing himself up to be sitting and smiled a little.

"Better than a client, I hope?" You said, stepping through the doorway. You watched Lockwood go through a thousand emotions in an instant, but his face settled on elation, holding out his arms for you.

You rushed to his side, wrapping him up in your arms as tight as you could.

"What are you doing here?" He asked incredulously, a laugh escaping his lips.

"Someone didn't call me after his case," You replied, sliding into the bed next to him to hold his arm.

"And someone didn't tell his coworkers-slash-friends-slash-housemates about his secret partner he's had for half a year!" George cut in.

"Sorry, Georgie," Lockwood gave him a megawatt smile, "Had to keep my girl safe, you understand." You grinned, pushing yourself even closer to him. George grumbled something but Lucy was already pushing him out the door, giving the two of you some much-needed space.

Safely alone, you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm glad you're okay. I was so scared."

"I'm sorry, lovely. I couldn't get to a phone in the hospital, but I thought about you all day every day."

"But now your friends know about us," You said and Lockwood nodded with a smile that made your insides melt.

"They do," He paused, "So d'you think it's time for you to finally spend the night here?" You grinned.

"Really?" You could almost feel the sparkle in your eyes. Lockwood nodded again, a matching look on his face. You didn't bother confirming, instead pressing your lips to his desperately.

Dinner at Portland Row was exactly how you'd imagined it; loud and chaotic and absolutely perfect. George and Lucy arguing over the tiny details of a case story they were telling you, Lockwood butting in with a flashy description of the action sequence. You laughed along, compliments spilling out as you tasted George's cooking. It was too easy to see it happening perpetually, and you had to stop yourself from getting too comfortable on your first visit.

You settled in for the night next to Lockwood. You were in Lockwood's bed with him. You weren't sure if you'd stopped smiling all night.

"I like being here," You said into the dark, looking at the vaguely Lockwood-shaped shadow next to you.

"You could stay here more often, the others love you already."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, all that we've gotten out of keeping us a secret is worry. If people come after me, I promise that I'll do everything to protect you, but we shouldn't waste all our time being scared of something that may never happen. I love you," He said. You faltered, breath hitching slightly. He'd never said that before. Maybe it was slow, maybe it wasn't, but you knew Lockwood was so scared of committing to his feelings, this was everything.

"I love you too," You replied, hearing the smile in your voice as you said it. It was the easiest night of sleep you and Lockwood had ever had.

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Meet the Greyhounds

Plot: On the first day of season training, the Greyhounds welcome the newest member of AFC Richmond and Y/n gets a crash course in Ted Lasso’s unconventional coaching methods.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: language, use of f!reader (16+)

A/N: Here we are again, now with the Greyhounds entering the story…👀

As always, let me know if you’d like to be tagged, though I’m still only tagging 16+. Enjoy!!

————

Contrary to the whirlwind of her hiring, Y/n’s first week at AFC Richmond was nothing but calm waters.

The first few days had been spent mostly in meetings with Higgins, learning the basic operations of parts of the club she’d be involved in. She bounced back to the KJPR offices every few days for a meeting with Keeley. Already, there was a rhythm developing to her days.

Y/n took the weekend to set up her office, driving over a few boxes of books, wall hangings and office supplies to Nelson Road Stadium. Season training started on Monday and Y/n knew it was her last chance to get settled before the work truly started.

On Sunday evening, she stayed late organizing her desk the way she liked. When she was finally done, taking a final satisfactory look at the space, she collected her coat and locked up for the night. She was on her way out when she noticed up the stairwell, there were still lights on.

Thinking only her and the night cleaning crew were still around, Y/n shuffled up the steps. The closer she got, the better she could make out the light was coming from Rebecca’s office. Not only that, she could hear mumbled curses.

Y/n rapped her knuckles twice against her boss’s door, poking her head in just enough to show who it was.

“Oh,” Rebecca breathed, sat behind her desk, “Come in.”

Y/n took a cautious step through the doorway, giving a little wave, “I saw the light and didn’t know who was still here.”

“Well, I shouldn’t be here,” Rebecca replied, trying to put on a smile for Y/n, “Not till tomorrow anyway.”

Nodding, Y/n shifted her coat in her arms.

“You’re here awfully late as well,” Rebecca changed the subject.

“Oh,” Y/n answered, “Finally took the time to unpack everything. Figured it was a good idea before tomorrow.”

“Good,” Rebecca replied.

It went without saying that there was something wrong. Rebecca had no reason to be there.

“Is everything…” Y/n shifted in her spot a little. She was skirting one of the professional lines she valued. “Alright?”

The moment the question hit the air, Rebecca’s facade cracked. The edges of her smile drooped ever so slightly and whatever faux cheeriness had been masking her eyes faded.

“Do you read many tabloids, Y/n?” Rebecca asked.

“Not actively, but,” Y/n answered, her eyes darting between the floor, the lamp, anywhere other than directly at Rebecca until absolutely necessary, “I see things.”

Rebecca knew, without asking, what headlines she was referring to.

“My ex-husband recently purchased West Ham United,” the woman began to explain, “He poached one of our coaches from last season and…” Rebecca shook her head from the ridiculousness of it all, “There was just a headline that…”

Y/n waited for her boss to find the words, knowing they probably wouldn’t come. Nor did they need to.

Rebecca inhaled, “I suppose I shouldn’t let it get to me but…”

“Hey,” Y/n held up a hand, “There’s no judgement here.”

Rebecca gave a genuine smile, thankful for the understanding. “Well, we both need to get home and get some rest,” she said as she rose from her desk.

“We do,” Y/n was thankful the subject was shifting from personal matters, “Goodnight, Ms. Welton.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re going to call me that the entire season,” Rebecca sighed, half-laughing at the formality, “Rebecca.”

It shouldn’t have mattered, but Y/n felt most comfortable with her barriers in place. However, going up against Rebecca was a fight she knew she’d lose.

“Alright,” Y/n conceded, the only time she planned on doing so, “Goodnight, Rebecca.”

“Goodnight, Y/n,” Rebecca said in return.

That night, once she returned home and settled in bed with a cup of tea, Y/n did research on the enemy. Rupert Mannion, Rebecca’s ex-husband, had indeed purchased West Ham United at the end of last season. He’d gone one step further and hired Richmond’s old coach, Nathan Shelley. There was much speculation as to why the former kitman had left and why he’d chosen specifically to work for Rebecca’s ex. Several tabloids had framed the upcoming season as a battleground not only for the Greyhounds and Hammers, but the ex-spouses as well.

Y/n shut her laptop and rubbed at her eyes. She could uphold all the professional boundaries she liked, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t become a part of a deeply personal fight.

—————————

Come Monday morning, the parking lot at Nelson Road was packed.

Season training had begun.

Y/n had gotten in early, having stopped by Keeley’s office to pick some papers up, and had yet to cross paths with any of the Greyhounds or coaches. She wasn’t trying to avoid meeting them, but she also wasn’t actively seeking out the opportunity. There was safety in the isolation of her office with the only intruder being Higgins every once in a while.

It was around 10 when the first knock at the door came.

Y/n looked up from her desk to see Sam Obisanya standing in her doorway.

“Ms. Y/l/n?”

“Yes,” Y/n answered with a small smile.

“Ah,” Sam took one step inside the office, “I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself. Sam-“

“Obisanya,” Y/n finished for him, rising from her desk to come and shake his hand, “I may not be a football fanatic, but I know your work.”

Sam laughed humbly, Y/n didn’t think there was such a thing until then.

“You’re very kind,” Sam let go of her hand, “I heard you were hired over our break and I wanted to be one of the first to say ‘welcome.’”

“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Obisanya,” Y/n replied, feeling genuinely touched.

“Please,” he smiled, “Call me Sam.”

“Sam,” Y/n nodded, she was 0 for 2…

“Are you finding everything okay?” Sam asked.

Y/n glanced at the space around them, “Everything I need so far, yes.”

“Ah, good,” Sam grinned, “Well, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. It’s a lot to get used to.”

“Well, I’ll agree with you there,” Y/n chuckled, “But really, Sam, thank you. I genuinely look forward to getting to see you play this season.”

“Ah,” Sam’s hand briefly touched his chest, “Thank you. I hope you have a wonderful day.”

“You as well,” Y/n replied as the midfielder headed back through her office door. Her Youtube observations had been correct; Sam Obisanya was as genuine off the pitch as he was on it.

A few moments after settling back at her desk, a second knock came.

“Hola, Ms. Y/n!”

Dani Rojas.

“Hi,” Y/n greeted, a little surprised, “You must be Mr. Rojas.”

“Dani, please,” the player grinned, “I wanted to come and officially welcome you to Richmond.”

Y/n rose from her desk and crossed the room once again. “That’s very kind of you, D- oh!”

Dani had pulled her in for a hug and had practically lifted her off the ground. In any other case, Y/n would have slingshotted them both into the HR office, but she could tell his intentions were 100% pure.

“I hope you will be very happy working here with us,” Dani said, finally releasing Y/n from his arms, “It is like one big family.”

Y/n chuckled awkwardly, trying to hide her dismay at the thought from someone who was the human embodiment of joy.

“I’m sure I’ll be quite content,” she replied politely, “And I look forward to seeing you play, Dani.”

“Oh, thank you,” Dani said, his grin hadn’t dropped half an inch since he’d arrived, “I look forward to getting to work with you.”

“You too, Dani,” Y/n nodded, “I hope you have a great day.”

“You as well,” Dani wished cheerily before exiting Y/n’s office.

Y/n stayed in the middle of the room a moment longer, trying to process the interaction. She was half sure that within the next thirty seconds, another Greyhound would come through her door.

She wasn’t wrong.

Five minutes after Dani, Colin Hughes and team captain Isaac Mcadoo showed up. While their greetings were less personal than Sam’s and they let Y/n stay on the ground, unlike Dani, they took their time to welcome her. Two minutes after them, Thierry Zoreaux swung by. Just as he was leaving, Jan Maas took his place. In and out, the Richmond players seemed to form a never ending stream of well wishes.

As Will, the team’s kitman, was on his way out from his introduction, Y/n decided answers were worth seeking.

“Can I ask,” she tapped her pen against her desk, “How did you guys even know I was here?”

“Oh, Coach Lasso told us,” Will answered plainly, “He wanted us each to stop by and introduce ourselves. See if you needed anything, officially welcome you to Richmond.”

Y/n nodded, it all made sense now.

“Got it,” she politely smiled, “Well, thank you, Will. I definitely feel welcomed.

With a polite farewell, Will left Y/n on her own once more. She felt like locking the door just to ensure she could actually get some work done. She was pleased to know that the team she worked for wasn’t comprised of inconsiderate pricks, but their kindness had been more than overwhelming.

“Alright, Ted Lasso,” she mumbled to the empty room, “Message received.”

Itwas an hour later, after five more stop-bys by various Greyhounds, that Y/n escaped her office. She headed to the cafe to grab a tea before her morning meeting with Rebecca and Higgins. She made it in and out without any more ambushes, and headed on her way to Rebecca’s office.

Just as her eye caught on one of the placards on the hallway wall, a door swung open at Y/n’s side. She froze as the emerging body nearly bumped into hers.

“Whoa,” the culprit said as they too stopped in their tracks.

Y/n awkwardly laughed as she held her tea in the air, trying to prevent a mess.

“Sorry, that was on me,” the man apologized as the door swung back into place.

“No, no,” Y/n exhaled, “It’s on me for not paying attention.”

The man breathed out a laugh as Y/n brought her arm back into her side.

“And nothing’s on anyone so,” Y/n gestured to her tea, “Could’ve been worse.”

Finally looking up at the man in front of her, Y/n recognized him instantly.

“You’re Jamie Tartt.”

Jamie pursed his lips and pointed a finger at Y/n, “And you’re the new girl? Keeley’s new hire?”

Y/n didn’t love the sound of her position being explained so casually. “Miss Jones hired me to do some work for Richmond, yes. Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Ah,” Jamie nodded, attempting not to laugh at the formality, “Coach wanted us all to come by and introduce ourselves.”

“Well, you saved yourself a trip,” Y/n replied, somewhere between a polite and genuine smile.

Jamie chuckled, his hands awkwardly clasped in front of him. “Well, good to put a face to the name.”

Y/n nodded a little, “Same to you.”

“Right, well,” Jamie bent at the knees and flashed Y/n a smile, “See you ‘round, I guess.”

“See you around,” Y/n returned.

Without another word, Jamie and Y/n walked off down opposite ends of the hallway.

As she climbed the stairs up to Rebecca’s office, Y/n made a note that the Jamie Tartt she’d (quite literally) run into was, indeed, far different than the ill reputation he’d built for himself. He seemed perfectly pleasant, a little blunt, but polite nonetheless. It didn’t seem like the Greyhounds didn’t have any bad eggs.

Switching back to work mode, Y/n knocked on Rebecca’s semi-open door.

“Ah, come in, Y/n,” Rebecca quickly greeted.

Y/n walked in and saw that Higgins and Ted were already standing across from Rebecca’s desk.

“Hey, it’s the newest Greyhound,” Ted said cheerily.

“So sorry I’m late,” Y/n apologized, setting her purse and tea down on the coffee table. She was happy to bypass Ted’s greeting with nothing more than a polite smile.

“Oh, no it’s fine,” Rebecca waved her concern off before turning back to the matter at hand, “As I was saying, everyone alive has picked Richmond to finish in 20th place this season.”

Y/n came to stand between Higgins and Ted.

“Except for the The Daily Mirror,” Higgins interjected, “Which has us finishing ‘twentyelf.’ An adorable but devastating typo.”

Ted hummed, “Okay. Well, you know what? I predict all their predictions ain’t gonna come true. So it looks like we got ourselves a prediction Mexican standoff,” Ted turned to Y/n and Higgins, “Or as they call them in Mexico, a prediction standoff.”

Y/n wondered if the man had an off button.

“Well, the worst part is they’ve picked Rupert to finish in the top four,” Rebecca said with a heavy sigh.

“Rupert’s gonna play this year?” Ted asked in all seriousness.

“What?” Rebecca replied, “No.”

“You’re referring to West Ham United,” Y/n spoke up, trying to move the conversation along, “Correct?”

“Precisely,” Rebecca said, “Everyone thinks he’s better than us.”

“They,” Ted corrected his boss, “Everyone thinks they are better than us.”

Rebecca nodded a little too fast to be considered normal, “Yes, that’s what I said. They. So, what’s the plan? How are we going to beat him?”

Once again, Ted caught the error that Y/n knew was no error at all. “Them.”

“Exactly,” Rebecca replied.

“Oh, boy,” Ted said lowly.

“You know, this might be a good time for us to update our roster,” Higgins spoke up, “Put some more firepower in the team.”

Rebecca pointed towards Higgins, “That is an great idea, Leslie.”

“I agree,” Y/n threw in her support, thankful the conversation was moving back towards work, “Plenty of opportunity to make a big fuss over it, get people excited, pack the stands a little more.”

“Let’s put some feelers out, shall we?” Rebecca continued, glancing over to her manager, “Ted?”

“Well, I know Roy and Coach Beard are workin’ on some new tactics,” he answered, “And, you know, the fellas we already got are gelling real nice. I think we’re gonna do just fine this season.”

If Y/n could have measured the indignity on Rebecca’s face, she couldn’t have.

“Ted, this team doing ‘just fine’ is a far cry from you telling me we’re going to win the whole fucking thing.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raised just as Higgins exclaimed, “Whoa!”

“Did I really say that?” Ted asked, just as shocked.

“Yes, you did,” Rebecca’s voice raised an octave as she pointed towards her couch, “Over there after the Man City loss. Just before you blasted half a liter of Pellegrino in my face.”

The memory finally rang Ted’s bell, “Oh, right.”

“Wait, what happened?” Higgins confusedly asked.

Y/n nearly raised her pen to ask questions but decided against it.

“That,” Rebecca pointed towards Ted, “Is the Ted Lasso I want coaching my team this season. The one who’s willing to fight. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ted nodded, “You watch, from now on, I’ll be floating like a butterfly and stinging like a bee. Except I won’t die immediately after using my stinger. I plan to float and sting for the entirety of the whole season.”

“Excellent,” Rebecca’s expression finally shifted and she looked to Y/n, “I apologize if we’ve thrown you into the deep end of our problems.”

Y/n held up a hand to signal there were no issues, but she was a little confused as to what the purpose of the meeting had been.

“I have a very important lunch meeting with one Miss Keeley Jones,” Rebecca continued as she collected her purse and came out from around her desk, “For some much needed girl talk.”

“Hey, tell her we said howdy and…” Ted wished before looking to Higgins.

“Yo,” Higgins added in a deep voice.

Rebecca looked to Y/n last.

“Tell her I’ll be in tomorrow,” Y/n added, still holding onto her binder.

“Okay,” Rebecca left out the door, off to the KJPR offices.

Y/n sighed as Ted and Higgins began to converse over the later’s out of character greeting.

“Hey, Y/n,” Ted tapped her on the arm, “You settling in alright?”

“Yes,” Y/n nodded, adjusting the waist of her skirt, “Very excited to get started.”

“Well, don’t be afraid to stop by if you need anything,” Ted smiled, missing the slight edge to Y/n’s words, “Or if you just wanna chat. Roy and Beard’d love to meet you.”

Y/n gave one more cordial nod before crossing the room to retrieve her belongings. “I’m sure we’ll cross paths at some point,” she replied, desperate to escape, “But I really do have a few things that need to get done. I’ll see you both later.”

With a trail of goodbyes from Ted and Higgins, Y/n vacated the office as quickly as she could without being too obvious. Not only did she feel it was a waste of a meeting to simply discuss the team’s standings, but no work had really been accomplished. She did, however, learn a great deal more about Rebecca’s mindset for the season than she’d set out to know.

When she returned to her office, Y/n shut the door and locked it. No more interruptions, no more distractions, she could do what she was here to do…her job. If the only way she could do that was by literally shutting Richmond out, so be it.

—————————

Much later in the day, Y/n took her second scheduled leave back up to Rebecca’s office. There was a West Ham press conference being held and Rebecca had requested her presence for the viewing. Something about PR strategies, but Y/n suspected she was partially valued as another essential piece in the takedown of Rupert Mannion.

She arrived just as Higgins was coming to stand behind Rebecca’s desk with her.

“Has it started?” Y/n asked as she crossed the room.

“Just about to,” Rebecca breathed, steel in her voice already.

“Are you sure you want to watch this?” Higgins made a point of asking.

“No, I don’t want to, Leslie,” Rebecca replied, as she loaded the stream link, “But it’s part of my job. I need to be ready to comment if Rupert were to say something snide about me or the team.”

Y/n came to stand on the other side of Rebecca, “I agree. Preparation isn’t always fun, but necessary.”

Rebecca blindly gestured to Y/n as she clicked away on her screen, she only looked up to glance out her window. “Where are they, by the way? Shouldn’t they be training now?”

Y/n peeked out the glass, she hadn’t noticed that the team was completely absent from the pitch. Odd for the first proper day of training.

“Oh,” Y/n said, coming to stand a little closer as the laptop screen changed, “It’s loading.”

Rebecca scooted her chair closer as the feed went live and a West Ham United backdrop became visible. Striding in from off camera came Rupert Mannion, calm, collected and charming.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the press, welcome,” he announced, “Lovely to see you all, and thank you for selecting our humble little football club to do so well this season.”

As the press let out chuckles, Rebecca reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a small pink box. Y/n watched as her boss pulled it open and angrily shoved a bite of a thick biscuit in her mouth.

“Twat,” Rebecca mumbled through a half-full mouth.

“The person you are here to see,” Rupert continued in a grandiose tone, “The Wonder Kid himself, our new manager, Nathan Shelley.”

Rebecca’s ex extended a hand towards his right and seconds later, Nathan and him exchanged places in the center of the room.

“Thank you,” Nathan smiled once he was seated, “Very nice to be here. I’m pretty sure I said ‘wunderkind.’”

Silence from the press.

“This is the same Nathan Shelley who was the kitman here,” Y/n said, half-asking, “Became assistant coach and then stole over to West Ham?”

“Yes,” Higgins answered as Rebecca was chewing, “Rather a hasty and heated exit.”

Y/n hummed in reply, nothing about the man struck her as particularly hasty or heated. The tabloids had painted a much different picture of the man. As Nathan stuttered over his answers, Y/n sensed nothing but a rather awkward humility.

She was proven terribly wrong over the next two minutes.

Nathan’s answers came quicker and were delivered with more confidence. At some point, they became biting. The sudden character shift felt like a reverse of Jamie Tartt’s, from the little Y/n had observed of both.

“Coach Shelley, regarding your old team, AFC Richmond,” one of the reporters began, “Any idea why everyone is expecting them to finish 20th this season?”

Y/n shifted in place as they awaited Nathan’s answer. Something about the smile that pulled at his cheeks just before he spoke unsettled her.

“Probably because there’s no 21st.”

If there was tension in the room before, it had just intensified tenfold.

“Meow,” Higgins commented.

Y/n turned to her co-worker, “Hasty and heated, you said?”

Before they could hear the next question, the Twitter alert on Y/n’s phone sounded from her jacket pocket. She’d set up alerts for the club, each Greyhound and the coaches. Pulling out her phone, the keyword ‘AFC Richmond’ was the first one she saw.

Her eyes widened, “Oh, no.”

Higgins tugged out his phone half a second later.

“What is it?” Rebecca asked.

Y/n and Higgins looked to one another, Higgins braving it and showing Rebecca his phone. Displayed on both their screens was a picture of the Greyhounds, led by Ted Lasso, climbing down a manhole into a sewer.

A PR nightmare.

Y/n distractedly looked up at Rebecca’s computer screen, still scrolling the tag. Someone had asked Nathan a question regarding the photo.

“Yeah, well, it makes sense,” Nathan answered, “They probably have to train in a sewer because their coach is so shitty.”

The press both gasped and laughed, each reporter’s eyes lighting up at the headline possibilities.

Rebecca slammed her laptop shut, fuming.

“Oh, boy,” Higgins broke the silence.

“Coach Lasso needs to address this,” Y/n spoke up, going into strategy mode, “Immediately. This is being turned into memes as we speak.”

Rebecca took a deep breath, pressing her hands together and to her lips in an effort to retain calm. “I will be speaking to him the second they are back,” she answered, before looking up to Y/n, “Come up with some potential response for the press conference.”

“Absolutely,” Y/n nodded, already out from behind Rebecca’s desk, “It’s best if the players don’t say anything either. Don’t give Coach Shelley any more ammunition.”

The day had officially turned and while Y/n had prayed for actual work to do, she hadn’t wanted it like this. Was this the gig? Digging Ted Lasso out of whatever absurd headlines his actions created? Combatting bitter ex-coaches?

Come 2:15, fifteen minutes before Ted’s press conference was scheduled to begin, Y/n gathered the notes she’d made and headed downstairs. She waited outside the press room until Ted came out of his office.

“Coach Lasso,” Y/n called, coming to walk alongside him, “The press are all ready for you but I think it’s important to address the matter of the picture trending on social media. The best strategy is not to stay on it too long, but don’t laugh it off. I wrote down a few responses that might be of use.”

By the time she’d finished, they were stood outside the press room once more.

“I appreciate it, Y/n,” Ted thanked her, “But I think I’m gonna Buffalo Wild this one.”

“You’re gonna-“ Y/n began to question the sentence before connecting her dots, biting down on her lip, “Wing it?”

“Exactly, Tom Clancy,” Ted smiled easily before heading in through the side door and leaving Y/n in the hallway.

With no one else around, Y/n took the opportunity to take a deep breath, throw her head back in frustration and scrunch up her face. Things were about to go from bad to worse.

After collecting herself, she rounded the corner of the hall and entered the press room through the back door. Rebecca was already waiting at the rear of the room.

“Did he take the suggestions?” Rebecca whispered as Ted began to speak.

Y/n inhaled deeply, “He did not.”

Side by side, the two women tried to contain their emotions and project confidence towards whatever was about to be said.

Though his ability lay in questionable standing, Y/n was surprised at how well Ted handled himself. The reporters and him had a rapport that Y/n shouldn’t have been shocked by. For all the comical flaws he possessed, Ted Lasso was likable. It wasn’t many coaches who would compliment a reporter on her new choice of hair color before she asked her question.

“Coach, how are you feeling about the unanimous opinion that Richmond will be relegated at the end of the season?”

“Yeah, that’s true, isn’t it?” Ted replied, “Expectations for us are as low as a rattlesnake’s belly button, huh?”

A few chuckles and smiles from the press.

“But, hey, we got 38 chances to prove all them folks wrong though, right?” Ted continued, “Yeah. And my hopes are as high as a giraffe’s top hat. Next question. And if it’s ‘why is a giraffe wearing a top hat?’ Don’t ask me, man. Go ask a giraffe.”

Y/n felt like she was regaining the ability to breathe as the midwestern wit was accepted. Ted chose his next interrogator, Marcus Adeybo, who was clearly known but in a new position judging by the ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ of the press room.

“Do you have any response to comments made earlier today by your former assistant coach, Nathan Shelley?” Marcus asked.

Y/n tightened her hold on her notebook, Rebecca pursed her lips. They waited with bated breath as Ted thought over his next words with great care.

“Uh, yes, I do. Yeah,” Ted began, pausing with a small smile before continuing, “I thought it was hilarious.”

Through her peripherals, Y/n could see Rebecca was less than pleased. She was thrown herself, but decided to wait for Ted’s full answer before reacting in full.

“I mean, he came and got us, didn’t he? No doubt about that,” Ted laughed, “Hey, but that’s Nate the Great for you, you know? He’s the same way on the pitch. He’ll find the tiniest weakness in a team and just wanna attack that, you know? I mean, he’s a junkyard dog, man. And smart. They’re real lucky to have him over there at West Ham. I wish him the best of luck.”

For all her schooling and experience, Y/n found herself watching Ted in pleasant surprise as he pulled out a strategy she never would have thought of.

“I guess I am a little surprised that’s all he could come up with,” Ted kept going, shrugging slightly, “Especially against me. You know, not one joke about me being a dumb American? Come on, man. It’s sittin’ there. I mean, I’m so dumb…”

Ted’s grin hung open as he waited for a reply to a joke that clearly only served on one continent.

“Y’all are supposed to say ‘how dumb are you?’” Ted helped them out. One reporter raised their hand, “Gary?”

“Why?”

“I-I mean, it’s just classic joke structure,” Ted answered, “Give it a shot. I mean, I’m so dumb…” he nodded towards another reporter, “Lloyd?”

“How dumb are you?”

“Okay, well,” Ted raised his voice loud enough for the room to hear, “I’m so dumb, that the first time I heard y’all talkin’ about Yorkshire pudding, I thought it was a fancy word y’all had for dog poop.”

A few laughs came quietly.

“I mean, I’m so dumb,” Ted continued, waiting for the next line. A slightly confused chorus of questioning his intellect followed.

“Yeah, okay, well, whenever I text someone over here about money, I still spell pounds L-B-S.”

Y/n allowed herself to smile, realizing that there had been no point in giving Ted any suggestions. He was far better on his own.

“Look, man, I’m not a great coach,” Ted shrugged, “Probably ain’t. You know, I’ve been doing this sport now for three years, and I still get a chuckle every time someone talks about a handball violation.”

Shaking her head as it happened, Rebecca nudged Y/n with her elbow and held up her phone. There was a text from Keeley.

Way to let Ted be Ted!

Quickly, Y/n pulled out her own phone and opened up Twitter. Sure enough, there were tweets pouring in under Ted’s name, filled with nothing but praise and ‘LOLs.’

“Yeah, and not one crack about my appearance?” Ted continued, “About this mustache? I look like Ned Flanders is doing cosplay as Ned Flanders.”

Finally, the whole press room was laughing. Even Rebecca had found her smile once again, reserved as it may be for the unconventional approach.

“When I talk it sounds like Dr. Phil hasn’t gone through puberty yet.”

Y/n covered her mouth as she snorted.

“Yeah, I’m more corny than Kevin Costner’s outfield,” Ted waited for the joke to land, with no such reward, “Oh, I lost you on that one. Yeah. Field of Dreams? No?” Ted glanced to the back of the room and spotted Y/n who gave him a slight nod, signaling she understood it. “I guess y’all don’t really like baseball over here, so why would you like movies about it?”

Ted briefly bent down to check his phone, giving Y/n and Rebecca the chance to glance at one another. Rebecca sighed and Y/n shrugged with one hand, the wheels were entirely off and there was no point in trying to reattach them.

“Well, hey, how ‘bout this one?” Ted went on with a new strength, it seemed, “Regarding my panic attacks, I’ve had more psychotic episodes than Twin Peaks.”

The room filled with laughter again, including Ted’s.

“I mean, I’m so crazy…”

This time, both Rebecca and Y/n joined the reporters in asking just how crazy Ted Lasso was.

“There we go,” Ted said approvingly before continuing another round of self-depreciation.

As Y/n watched the room, and Twitter, sing Ted’s praises and reject Nathan Shelley, she made a mental note. No more notes on speaking to the press. Ted was aiming to kill with kindness, and she wasn’t planning to stand in his way.

Names and press conferences, the only things she planned to bend on.

—————————

By the end of the day, Ted was trending heavily and by association, so were the Greyhounds. The manhole picture had been thoroughly memed and it would take a week or two for the image to get lost in the Twitter-verse. Regardless of how good Ted was with the press, Y/n suspected there’d be several more sewer-type messes to clean up.

The sun was just setting as Y/n headed out to the parking lot. A few stray players had stayed late and were trailing out, most of whom she’d already met.

As Y/n searched through her bag for her keys, she heard a familiar voice wishing a teammate a good night. Jamie Tartt.

Y/n glanced up as the striker walked towards the car parked two spaces apart from hers.

“So tell me,” she called across the lot, “Do you guys save the sewer visits for special occasions or am I going to have to get used to doing this kind of damage control daily?”

Jamie chuckled, slinging his bag over his shoulder, “Uh, yeah, that was a new one.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/n’s smile was barely perceptible.

“Coach was tryin’ to teach us a lesson,” Jamie explained, standing at the boot of his car, “See, everyone’s got us finishin’ dead last, but we’re supposed to let that shit flow,” Jamie made a sweeping gesture with his hand, “Like the canals in the sewers.”

Y/n’s tongue poked her cheek as she tried to understand the teaching moment.

“I know it sounds bizarre,” Jamie admitted, most of Ted’s methods sounded insane outside the Greyhound’s locker room, “But he had a point.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/n replied, before grabbing her keys, “Well, whether the shit was literal or metaphorical, you guys just made my job a hell of a lot more interesting.”

“Hey, you didn’t have to fuckin’ go down there,” Jamie’s voice jumped an octave.

The two shared a laugh before moving to unlock each of their cars.

“I’ll see ya,” Jamie said with a smile.

“See ya,” Y/n replied, sliding into the driver’s seat.

Once she shut the door, she let her head hit the headrest. The day had felt like one big preview of how the season would go, and if it continued that way, Y/n was in for much more than she’d bargained for…

——

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex

[puck-luck]

new beginnings | june 24 - june 30

note: welcome to the start of honey and trevor's very complicated relationship and some of my favorite subplots ;) we've officially surpassed the 100k mark for total words on this fic and we've got a while to go. apologies but also– this is the extended-extended cut !!

29:90 – TREVOR

They say you learn something new every day. 

Today, Trevor has learned that he should really check out the window before he walks outside in nothing but his compression shorts. He also learned that he should really do his laundry before he runs out of clothes– or that he should just steal clothes from Jack when he runs out of shorts. 

Why, you ask? Why did Trevor learn these tidbits on a Monday in Litchton, North Carolina?

Well, because on this particular Monday in Litchton, North Carolina, there are two girls laying in Trevor’s backyard. 

No one had told him that the girls were coming over. If they had, maybe Trevor would have stayed inside. Of course, that would’ve been hard with Honey just a hundred yards away in a bikini top, but he could’ve at least waited until his laundry was done. Honey has seen him in less than the compression shorts, but Bea has not. 

And Bea made Trevor’s outfit her problem as soon as she spotted him. She sat up from the flat deck chair that she dragged out from under the covered patio and whistled, pushing her sunglasses up to rest on the top of her head. Her hair is pulled up into a knot and she’s wearing a thin strip that is a sad excuse for a tube top. 

“Hoo-wee, Trevor!” She calls. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Trevor scowls, glaring at Bea from the side of his eye as he pulls on his skates and laces them. “Fuck off, Bea. I’m doing laundry right now.”

“And we’re honored, really,” Bea continues, sarcastic and biting. She folds her hands in a prayer in front of her chest and nods at Trevor, eyes wide. 

Honey giggles at her comment, leaning up on her elbows. Her hair is braided into two pigtails and she’s in a bright pink strappy bikini and her tiny daisy dukes that Trevor likes so much. She squints against the sun, one of her eyes completely shut under the shadow of her hand. 

Quinn uses his stick to pick up the wiffle-ball they’ve been using for their scrimmages and tosses it in a high arc towards Bea. It lands in her lap, resulting in an exclamation from Bea, and the girl hands the ball off to Honey. Trevor’s girl positively launches the ball at Quinn, a wicked whistle sounding as the ball makes its way towards Quinn and hits him in the stomach with a resounding thwap.

Quinn groans and doubles over, catching the ball in his palm before it drops to the ground. “Fuck, Honey.”

Honey just shrugs and closes her eyes, laying back down on the deck chair and covering her eyes with the bend of her elbow.

“Bea-girl, come play hockey,” Jack calls. “We need a sixth. You can be on the Hughes team. We’ll sub Luke out since you’re probably shit.”

“Hey, I was an athlete!” Bea exclaims. She stands up and pulls one of Quinn’s Bauer shirts over her head, tying the front into a little knot. “You have no idea.”

“No idea,” Honey echoes. 

Trevor looks at the girl and gives her a secret kind of smile, one that’s reserved specifically for her, but Honey doesn’t look his way. She’s still hidden beneath her elbow. 

“Come show us your athleticism then,” Jack challenges. “You don’t even have to wear skates.”

“Yeah, ‘cause we don’t have a pair of blades for a girl,” Cole teases, skating up to the edge of the rink and taking Bea’s hand to help her step over the wall.

“I hope you won’t go easy on me just because I’m a girl,” Bea replies, her steps careful and calculated as she makes her way onto the rink. She looks around like she’s sizing up the court, surveying end to end.

Luke skates up with an extra one of Cole’s sticks, handing the item off to Bea. He toes the ground with his skate and does a spin, circling around the girl. “I won’t go easy on you, Bea.”

“He’s only saying that because Jack kicked him off the team with his brothers,” Trevor warns. “He’s going to get you.”

Luke offers Bea a coy little smile and skates away, stealing the wiffle-ball from Quinn with an agile poke of his stick.

“First to 21, cornhole rules,” Cole tells Bea, skating up to knock shoulders with Quinn. 

“Cornhole rules?” Bea exclaims. “You fuckers think I want to play for that long? I came over here to tan and get laid before my work week starts.”

“Buzzy, just get in front of the goal and stop complaining,” Honey calls. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Exactly, Buzzy,” Cole adds, bouncing a little. 

Jack and Trevor meet at the center of their rink, knocking heads before pulling back and setting up for the face-off. They did it accidentally once when they were kids, then it became like tradition for their summer scrimmages. Luke holds the wiffle-ball with an ungloved hand, then drops it, and the boys fight for it. Jack wins and Luke is already blocking Bea from getting open, maneuvering around her easily in his skates. 

It quickly becomes evident that Bea will be no help to the team of the Hughes brothers, to the point that Trevor, Luke, and Cole don’t even need to defend against her. Even when Quinn sends her the ball, encouraging her to shoot at the open goal, she struggles with the stick.

“My sport didn’t have a stick,” Bea grumbles when she misses another pass and Luke scoops it away from her, flicking the wiffle-ball up so that it sails through the air and bounces into the opposing net. “If we played volleyball, I’d fuck you all up.”

“I’m sure you would,” Quinn commiserates, skating up to plant a slap on Bea’s ass. She snarls at him and spanks him with her stick in retaliation. He laughs and kisses her cheek, mid-game, then skates off to fight with Luke.

The game doesn’t make it to 21 points– well, technically Trevor’s team wins because he and Cole continue to shoot at the net after Bea quits. They’re maybe halfway through the game when she huffs and puffs and tries to step over the wall to exit the rink, but Jack skates up and wraps his arms around her middle. He carries her over to the center of the rink and sets her down, putting the stick back in her hands and reaching for a puck. 

“Pass with me, Bea. I’ll teach you so you’re not so shit next time we play, yeah?” Jack says, dribbling a loose puck between his legs. He’s just showing off now. 

“One sec,” Bea replies, turning around and settling her hands on her hips. She eyes Trevor, then beckons him over. 

Dutifully, Trevor skates over. He towers over Bea with the blades laced up around his ankles and it’s particularly satisfying to look down at her. That is, until Bea wraps her fist in the cloth of his shirt and tugs him down so his ear is next to her mouth.

“I know she told you about Thomas,” Bea murmurs, quiet enough that Jack can’t hear her. “And she’s embarrassed that you know, so she’s going to ignore you today, probably. You can’t let her push you away.”

Trevor pulls back, making eye contact with Bea. He’s sure he looks alarmed. He thought that Honey’s revelation would result in them getting closer, in her sharing more stuff about her life with Trevor, but he supposes he was wrong. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. 

Bea pulls him back down. “Let me explain it like this: do you know that tweet where that girl said ‘In order to date me, you have to defeat my seven evil exes’ or something?” 

She waits until he nods to continue. He doesn’t think he should correct her and tell her that the seven evil exes are actually from Scott Pilgrim, not some chronically online girl’s imagination.  

“Honey doesn’t have seven evil exes. She has one, but he fucked her over seven ways to Sunday, and she’s going to push you away a hundred times before she realizes her mistake. It’s just the way she acts. Trauma, and whatnot. Don’t fucking back off, dude. Your fragile little ego can’t be your priority here, not when you’re the first person that Honey’s been remotely interested in since Thomas ruined her fucking life.”

Bea pushes him away and Trevor rolls backwards due to the momentum. He’s nodding in assent, but Bea has already turned to Jack and reached her stick out to poke at the puck, which he’s doing a spectacular job of keeping from the girl. 

Trevor returns to his own shooting, aiming for the crossbar and hoping to deflect the pucks into the goal. It’s completely precision-shooting, although normally there’s a goalie’s big head in his way, hiding the crossbar from view. 

Quinn is passing with Luke, flicks of their sticks sending the puck from one end of the rink to the other without effort. Cole has completely abandoned the rink, opting instead to wander over to Honey’s chair and take Bea’s spot. He’s sitting with his legs stretched toward Honey, driving the blades of his wheels back and forth over her thighs. Honey is rubbing her face in exasperation, but she’s not pushing him away.

Trevor thinks she secretly likes the attention that the boys give her. They don’t flirt with her, which is great for Trevor, and she doesn’t want them to, which is even better for Trevor. He thinks that Honey enjoys having more friends than just Bea, even if she pretends to be annoyed by the antics of the guys. It’s easy and normal.

This same feeling washes over Trevor more and more frequently lately: that this would be a life where he’s perfectly happy. His whole life, he’s felt like he’s needed hockey. He made his friends through hockey, made his career by playing hockey, and enjoyed life because of his sport. 

Spending the summer in Litchton, even just so far, has taught Trevor that he would be fine in this life that Bea and Honey live. They go to work on the weekdays, they hang with their friends on the weekend, and they don’t get caught up in the outside world. It’s a nice life, simple and easy, and Trevor envies them a little bit. 

At the end of the summer, he has to return home to Anaheim, or maybe even to a new home if the trade rumors are anything to go off of. No one from Anaheim has called him to say that they’re considering trading him, so Trevor isn’t worried, but the whole world seems to believe he won’t be back. It would be harder to have to move away from Anaheim in addition to leaving Honey on this side of the country.

He’s mourning the moment already, he realizes. Lately he’s been filled with that painstaking dread that comes with having the best summer of your life and knowing it will just come to a close in two months time.

Not wanting to get caught up in his own thoughts, Trevor shakes his head. He leaves the rink and sets his stick against the edge of the house, sitting down in a juvenile plop like a child to unlace his blades. 

He remembers that he’s just in his compression shorts, and his laundry is probably finished, so he heads inside instead of going to kick Cole off Bea’s chair like he wants to. He’ll talk to Honey later. For now, he’d like to make himself decent.

Trevor gathers his dry laundry into a clump, holding it in his arms and hoping he’s not dropping socks all over the place on his trek from the laundry room to his bedroom. He dumps the load onto his bed and starts to fold the laundry, making a mental note to pick up the items he lost later. It won’t be the first time one of the boys let their laundry lay out until they went back to get it. 

He’s not even sure all of this will fit in his dresser, to be honest. At one point it did, but now he’s not sure. Maybe the drawers will just be overfilled and hard to shut. 

There’s a slight method to his madness, but it’s not all that real. He usually starts with the clothes that go in his bottom drawer, like his pants and shorts. He folds all of those up into a neat pile, then he starts on his shirts.

A timid knock reaches his door before it creaks open. 

“Hey,” Honey says. She holds up two fistfuls of laundry– mostly socks, but a pair of Trevor’s briefs are dangling from her hand. “You dropped some stuff.”

“Thanks,” Trevor said, gesturing towards the pile of unfolded laundry. “You can just toss them on there.”

Honey obliges, leaving the socks and briefs in a jumbled pile atop his other clothes. She then reaches for one of his shirts, lifting it into the air to smooth the wrinkles before folding it.

Oh. She’s staying to help him, then.

She adds to his pile, although she doesn’t focus on the shirts like Trevor does. She varies throughout and she’s not exactly shy when she picks up his underwear and folds it into a little square.

Trevor’s not sure what to say, so he says nothing at all. 

“Bea and Jack are hooking up,” Honey says eventually. 

“Oh,” Trevor replies. He’s matching up socks now, only a few left. He’s down to a bunch that don’t match, but he might just pack them away together and wear them mismatched. Cole has always loved a mismatched sock, but Trevor isn’t necessarily a fan.

“She thought of a solution for his, uh… lack of endurance,” Honey continues. She picks up the pile of Trevor’s shirts and walks over to his dresser, opening the drawer and setting the pile down, then pushes the drawer shut with her hip. “Do you want to know what it is?”

“Sure,” Trevor says. He takes two ankle socks and folds them together into a little ball. “What’s she doing with him?”

“She’s setting a timer while he fucks her,” Honey explains, a devilish smirk growing on her face. 

Trevor balks. “She’s doing what?” He exclaims, jaw hanging open.

Honey’s smile only grows, delighted to get a reaction out of Trevor. “She’s timing him, and– and–” she waves her finger in front of Trevor’s face. “If he beats his personal record, then she’s going to give him a treat.”

“What kind of treat?” Trevor asks, laughing at the idea of it. 

Jack’s always been quick in bed– Trevor would know, after that failed threesome he and Jack considered back when they were on the same team– but Trevor never expected that to be a mainstay in his sexual life. He had hoped it was just once, or maybe just the first time Jack hooks up with a girl– allegedly, the boy “gets nervous.” It seems as though Bea is searching for her own conclusions, treating Jack’s incompetence as grounds for an experiment. 

Trevor will have to tell Bea that he likes how she thinks. Later, when she’s done– but probably after the girls leave. He’ll text her.

“I’m not really sure,” Honey says with a shrug. “I think she bought a pack of M&Ms to give him. Like she’ll give him five M&Ms if he beats his record– it’s a resealable bag of candy– and she’ll only give him one if he gets close but doesn’t beat it.”

Trevor feels like he’s floating with how ecstatic this news makes him. “She’s bribing him with candy until he starts lasting long enough,” Trevor summarizes, a crooked smile taking over his face. “That’s sick.”

“I know. She’s funny.”

A silence falls between them, growing more and more awkward with each passing second. Honey stands near the door, crossing her arms over her chest and rubbing her opposite tricep like she’s cold. 

Trevor puts the last of his clothes away, then turns to smile softly at Honey. “Thanks for the help.”

“Yeah, well,” Honey says, sheepish all of a sudden. “When I saw all the socks and underwear on the ground, I thought you’d need it.”

Trevor nods, debating whether or not he should walk over and touch her the way that he wants to– but now that she’s shy and reaching for the door, he decides against it.

Instead, he turns to the dresser and finds a pair of sweats to pull over his compression shorts. The shorts are doing him no favors and he doesn’t need to embarrass himself by growing a little stiff at the thought of the easy domesticity he and Honey just experienced, folding his clothes together. He gets a flashing vision of Honey’s clothes sprinkled amongst his own, and Trevor turns to say something to her, but she’s already gone.

30:90 – HONEY

For the first time in a while, Honey gathers her knitting bag and sets out to open The Reading Nook. She’s planning to join the ladies at their knitting circle today and continue her big blanket. She only really knows how to knit squares and rectangles, despite Gillian offering to teach her time and time again. She’s made more scarves and blankets than she needs and usually donates them to the Salvation Army in Winston before the winter sets in. 

The Reading Nook is cold when Honey unlocks the door and steps through the threshold, which is fine by her. The ladies might complain, but Honey thinks it’s refreshing. She’s wearing a ribbed t-shirt, cropped close to the hem of her long skirt. It falls around mid-calf and she got it from the little thrift store down the street last spring. It’s green and floral with cream trimming on the bottom and Honey loves how it swishes.

She opens the store quickly. There’s not much to do during openings except sweep, but even that is barely necessary. Honey’s bored almost from the get-go, but the ladies start to file in just as the store opens. 

Rosalind appears first, with Scarlett and Vera not far behind her. Honey joins them at the table, sitting at the head of the long surface. She unfurls a little bit of her yarn and sets the skein on the table, adjusting in her chair to get down to business.

When Sacha and Gillian join their group, they’re delighted to see Honey at the table. Sacha kisses her cheeks and insists that Honey stays seated rather than standing to hug the woman. Gillian brought bagels, freshly made. She also brings cream cheese, which is “unfortunately store-bought.”

Honey supplies a fresh patch of blackberries, washed and dumped carefully in a little ceramic bowl that the ladies pass around. She got them from the fruit stand yesterday after she left the boys’ house, and although she had meant to ask Trevor if he wanted to ride in the car with her to the store, she never actually did. Instead, she just folded his laundry with him and they talked about Jack and Bea for a split second– it was the only thing Honey could think of that might get a reaction out of Trevor. He was so quiet the day before, but Honey also thinks she might be going crazy.

It’s been a long time since she wanted to hook up with a guy consistently and she feels seventeen again, toxic and overthinking each of her interactions with the boy. It’s the exact same behavior that she loathed so much as a teen, part of the behavior that she vowed to drop when she left Charlotte and moved to Litchton.

So, she left without inviting Trevor to the fruit stand. He must have forgotten that it was a Monday, because he didn’t show. Not that she was looking– she was in and out quickly, ready to go home and take a shower and go to bed. She had almost forgotten how Cole rubbed his grimy-ass rollerblades along her leg while she was tanning, but when she spotted the streak of dirt along her thigh, she was itching to get in the shower and wash it away.

The women gossip about sweet nothings– so-and-so didn’t show up to church on Sunday, this person’s cousin visited from out of town and treated the staff at Scruffy’s like trash (probably a side effect of when said cousin moved up north for college and they lost all their southern hospitality), and other small-town travesties that really aren’t so large in the long run.

The conversation veers toward the upcoming July 4th holiday and what Honey is planning to do– nothing yet, but probably the lake with Bea like every other year. The ladies ask about Bea’s birthday, which is coming up in about two weeks, reminding Honey that she has to go present shopping soon.

That conversation, devolving from Bea’s birthday into a scandalous tale of how Rosalind saw Bea and a “young brunet” walking down Main Street after church on Sunday hand-in-hand, turns toward the boys. 

Honey keeps her mouth shut as Vera raves about Cole, using her adopted nickname for the boy and gushing about how kind he is. She does not mention his evil streak or his annoying tendencies. 

Scarlett mentions that she had seen two of the others around, buying water tubes and toys a few weeks ago. Honey assumes she means Luke and Jack. Scarlett had not spoken to the boys, but she did think they were handsome, and she once again expressed that if she were younger and more available, she might try to scoop one of them up. Honey holds back a laugh at that, thinking that Bea is doing the exact same thing, but she’s scooping each of them. In another life, Scarlett and Bea are best friends who have a body count competition and, possibly, are sister wives.

No one seems to have met Quinn, although they’ve evidently spotted him when he’s with Bea, so Honey fills in a few of the blanks. 

Just as they get to Trevor, who Vera calls ‘Bear’ and speaks about with slightly less intense praise, the bell on the door jingles and they all have to shut up because their chatter seems to have summoned the boy.

“You all started without me?” Trevor asks with a faux-pout, crossing his arms over his chest pointedly at Scarlett. “After you taught me how to knit two weeks ago?”

“Well, young man, when you didn’t show up last week, we didn’t know what to do with ourselves!” Sacha exclaims, wagging a finger at Trevor like she’s actually scolding him. 

“I didn’t realize you were such a knitter,” Honey teases, a polite smile etched across her face. 

Trevor matches it and Honey doesn’t miss how the edges of his face soften when he makes eye contact with her. “I didn’t realize that you could’ve been teaching me how to knit all along,” he says. 

Honey rolls her eyes. “Yes, Trevor, because I have the patience to teach you how to knit.” 

She’s being sarcastic, a little mean even, just because Trevor’s face makes it so obvious how he feels about her. Ada punished Honey for being mean to him a few days prior, but Ada’s not here right now. The other ladies are and Honey doesn’t want them getting any ideas or spreading any gossip– Trevor’s features, all filled with admiration for Honey, are almost as dangerous as his words could be. There’s a chance that anyone who looks hard enough would be able to deduce that Honey and Trevor have a particular relationship and Honey is determined to keep that from happening.

It appears as though, yet again, Trevor doesn’t give a shit about her desired discretion.

“You left something at the house yesterday,” Trevor says. “I figured I’d bring it to you.”

Honey makes a face. “Did I? Maybe it’s Bea’s. I don’t think I left anything.”

Trevor shrugs, hands in his pockets. “I don’t know. I’ll just put it in the back room and you can look at it later.”

“You don’t work here,” Honey denies with a laugh. “You can’t just go in the back room.” She stands from her chair. “C’mon.”

She’s too busy leading Trevor to the back room to notice the self-satisfied little smile that grows on Trevor’s face.

When she opens the door and walks through it, Trevor follows and closes the door behind him with a quiet click. He takes his hands out of his pockets and he’s holding nothing– nor does it look like he has anything in his pockets.

Aw, shit. Honey realizes. I’ve walked right into his little trap.

She tilts her head to the side and takes a deep breath, quirking an eyebrow at the boy. “Don’t tell me that you’re only here because you wanted to see me,” she says.

“I wouldn’t say that’s the only reason,” Trevor says. He reaches for Honey and she backs up. He rolls his eyes and follows her forward, placing them back in the same position as they were two weeks ago. Honey’s back is against the counter and Trevor stands in front of her, arms on either side of her body, hands along the counter.

It reminds her of the whipped cream incident, which is not the thing to be thinking about right now.

Trevor’s smirking a little when she meets his eyes. “Hi,” he says quietly.

The change is so abrupt that Honey blinks in surprise. “Hi?” She replies, uncertain.

Trevor raises a hand and pushes a strand of Honey’s hair behind her ear. “I missed you.”

“You missed me.”

“Terribly.”

“And so you concocted a plan to get me alone?”

“Well, I knew Bea wouldn’t be in yet and those old ladies out there don’t need your attention,” Trevor surmises. He leans closer, whispering into Honey’s ear. “I need your attention.” He brushes a kiss against Honey’s earlobe before pulling away, smug.

Honey can feel her cheeks growing red. “You need my attention. Is that your way of saying that your dick is broken? Because I can refer you to the doctor– he’s just down the street.”

Trevor laughs out loud. “God, Honey, you never let my lines work, huh?”

“You need new lines,” she says. “It’s a shame these ones have gotten you this far. But, say what you will about Californians and puck bunnies–”

“Puck bunnies,” Trevor repeats, glee lighting up his eyes. “Have you been doing research, Honey? Been reading about hockey lingo lately?”

“No,” Honey denies, growing even more red. “Absolutely not.”

Trevor hums, clearly not believing her. “Okay.”

That’s all he says. Honey gawks at him. “What do you want?” She asks.

“I realized last night that I haven’t returned the favor yet,” Trevor says. “You’ve made me come twice and I haven’t made you come at all.” He frowns, hoping to draw her sympathy, but his eyes are still dancing with a little laughter and a lot of confidence. 

Honey’s mouth makes a little ‘o’ and she raises her eyebrows. Her head is tilted up, looking at Trevor from her smaller stature, and she fumbles a little when Trevor’s hands close on her waist. His thumbs stroke over her clothed skin and Honey allows herself to be pulled closer, or maybe Trevor just steps in and traps her against the counter. She can’t be too sure.

Until he lifts her by the waist and sets her on the counter, her long skirt folded underneath her. It’s too thin and Honey realizes that she’s a little warm and damp in her underwear just from Trevor’s proximity– yet another unconscious reaction that she’d put an end to if she could. How dare she grow wet from absolutely nothing.

“You want to know how I realized that?” Trevor asks, nudging her nose with his. 

Honey leans back before his lips can touch hers. “Realized what?” She asks, voice heavy. Her eyelids feel droopy, like when she and Bea booked a two-hour couples-massage two years back that was so relaxing that they both had to sit in the car and nap before driving back to the house. 

Trevor chuckles, just air leaving his mouth instead of real noise. His eyes are zeroed in on her lips, Honey notices, and she licks them because they suddenly feel very, very dry. “Realized that I hadn’t made you come yet, Honey. Do you want to know how I realized?”

“Um,” is the intelligent reply that Honey comes up with. She might as well be a PhD student when she comes up with a shrug, barely constituting an agreement. Trevor’s so close to her. She can smell him– she can’t place the scent, but she knows that Trevor smells rich. Like, money-rich, not strong-and-overwhelmingly-potent-rich.

“I was thinking about how delicately you were folding my laundry,” Trevor says. “At first. Then, I was reminded that your fingers once wrapped around my dick and made me come without any of our friends knowing. Your fingers looked so good around me, and I was thinking about how badly I wanted to see them there again…”

Honey lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She wants to stare at Trevor’s eyes, but instead she’s drawn to the way his mouth forms his words and the tiny peeks of his tongue against his teeth as he speaks.

“Which is when I thought to myself, I haven’t shown Honey what my fingers can do,” Trevor continues. He licks his lips, then bites down on the lower. It’s a little chapped, maybe from sun. He needs to wear more chapstick. 

Honey’s chest is heaving, her stomach pushing against the band of her skirt in this position in an uncomfortable way. Maybe Trevor should just take it off. HUH? Nope, nope–

“So now I’m here, and I thought I’d tell you that you left an orgasm at the house because it’s stupid and I thought you’d laugh at me,” Trevor finishes. “And I know how much you like laughing at me.”

“Because I hate you,” Honey supplies, sounding entirely unconvincing.

“Duh,” Trevor agrees. “But I just can’t get enough of you.”

He noses at her nose again before his mouth seals over her own. He kisses her deeply, like she’s sinking into a warm bath after a long day, and Honey sighs against him. 

She’s leaning forward into him, touching his sides over his cotton shirt. Trevor’s hand is sliding over her cheek, the other bunching up her skirt over her knee so that he can get a grip on her skin. When she pulls away, he asks for permission.

“Can I make you come on my fingers, Honey?” Trevor asks, index finger toeing the line and digging a burning path into her skin as he runs it over her inner thigh. “Please?”

“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely,” Honey replies, pulling him in again. Her teeth knock against his when he laughs, but he wastes no time to flip her skirt up and reach his hand underneath the fabric. 

“Do I need to start saying “yes ma’am” and “no ma’am” when I’m in your presence?” Trevor teases. “Just to keep up my good manners?”

“If you want to keep getting laid,” Honey affirms, practically spoon-feeding the words onto his tongue. Her eyes are closed, but she can feel the way Trevor’s smiling against her lips. 

“Oh, baby, I want to keep getting laid,” Trevor assures her. His fingers tap over her clothed mound, sliding his nail along the seam of her panties.

“Don’t call me baby,” Honey admonishes.

“What can I call you?” Trevor asks. 

“My name,” Honey answers. “Or ‘your Royal Highness.’” 

Trevor hums in acknowledgement, petting over Honey’s core. He’s still kissing her, just brushing his lips against hers in cute pecks that leave her whining for more and looping her arms around Trevor’s neck to keep him close. 

“Your Royal Highness sounds perfect,” Trevor mumbles.

“Would you hurry the fuck up and finger me already?” Honey berates, tugging the hair at the nape of Trevor’s neck. 

“Yes, your Royal Highness.” 

Trevor pets over her panties twice more, running his finger all the way from her slit to the patch of skin just past her clit, then he removes his hand. Honey nearly growls, but Trevor shifts his other hand under her skirt and uses both to pull her panties down her legs. He taps her hip so that she shifts on the counter, able to slide her underwear off and place them in his pocket for safekeeping. His fingers, callused and rough against her wet skin, spread her folds and rub over her entrance. 

Honey shudders, her mouth opening against Trevor’s when he presses two into her from the get-go, up to the first knuckle. She swerves his next kiss, gasping with her breath fanning across his cheeks and rolling her hips against his fingers. 

“Sorry,” Trevor whispers. He presses his lips to her cheekbone, further embellishing her blush with the sweet gesture. “We have to be quick. I have a feeling some old ladies might come looking for us if we’re gone too long.”

“Don’t talk about them right now,” Honey groans, patting her hand against Trevor’s hand with an ounce of force behind it. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Trevor agrees.

“Just make me come,” Honey bosses, sliding forward on the counter. She spreads her knees and Trevor steps closer, his fingers filling her up. His fingers are thin, and long, and Honey’s fingers are stiff with how tight she’s holding him against her. She moans aloud when the wide, bulbous second knuckles of his fingers work past her entrance, then slaps a hand over her mouth. It brings Trevor even closer, with the bend of her elbow securely against the back of his neck. 

He laughs at the noise, shushing her quietly. He brings his other hand up to her chin and meets her lips. “You make some pretty noises, Honey, but we can’t let anyone else hear them,” Trevor whispers like it’s a shared joke between them. “Those are just for me.”

“You wish,” Honey bites back, just as Trevor draws another noise out of her with a pointed stroke of his fingers. 

“Mmm, I do,” Trevor murmurs. “You feel even better than I thought you would.”

“Trevor.” Honey grinds against him, tugging at the chest of his t-shirt.

“So warm and wet for me,” Trevor continues.

“Maybe I’m not thinking about you,” Honey gasps out. “Maybe I’m thinking about someone else.”

“Doesn’t matter– no one else is here,” Trevor replies. “Just me and my pretty girl.”

“Your Royal Highness,” Honey corrects, feeling Trevor’s fingers prod at her in a way that’s making her teeter along the edge of an orgasm– the first orgasm she’s experienced with a man since Thomas, she realizes. Sure, she’s had them alone, but she’d forgotten how mind-numbingly good it was to relinquish control and let someone else bring her pleasure. 

“Exactly, my Royal Highness. Why don’t you focus on coming instead of bossing me around?” Trevor increases his tempo then, rubbing the heel of his hand not-quite over her clit, but close enough and with enough pressure to make Honey keen and arch her back into him. 

Her nipples are hard, practically poking through her shirt. The fabric of her top, against the fabric of his top, with the hard muscle of his torso beneath it sends a rush through Honey’s body. Her mouth hangs open as she comes, bouncing a little bit with quivering thighs on Trevor’s fingers to prolong the feeling that comes over her. Honey’s head lolls back against the cabinets, the knob digging into the skin at the base of her skull in an uncomfortable way. Normally, Honey would be bothered, but she can’t care less about the pain in her neck when Trevor’s fingers are still moving inside of her and his lips are molded against hers, swallowing each sound she makes. 

When she comes down, Trevor kisses her one last time and pulls her skirt back down. He reaches over and runs his fingers under the faucet, wiping them with a paper towel once he deems them clean enough. 

“Not hungry?” Honey asks, her vision a little blurry after squeezing them so tight when she came. 

“If you think the first time I’m going to taste you is by licking my fingers, you’re sorely mistaken,” Trevor chides. He draws her panties out of his pocket and holds them up. “Can I keep these?”

“No way!” Honey exclaims, a laugh escaping her. “I am not letting you keep my underwear, you freak. I’m definitely not walking around this store all day with no panties on, Trevor. Give ‘em back.”

Trevor just wiggles his eyebrows and bites down on the waistband of the panties, leaving them dangling from his mouth as he slides to his knees. He pulls Honey’s ankles through the leg holes, then releases his grip on the waistband to draw them up her legs. 

Honey shifts her hips again so he can pull them up, laughing as Trevor’s head disappears and makes a lump under her skirt. She pops him on the head like a Whack-A-Mole and Trevor lets out a little “hey!” when she does. 

Just before he retreats, he pats her hips goodbye and brushes a kiss against her clit. Honey can hear him whisper something under his breath before he kisses there again, then he pulls her skirt off until his head is free. He smiles up at Honey, that same stupid smile on his face, and the dipshit has the nerve to wink at her.

“You are such a loser,” Honey tells him, exasperated. Once he’s far enough away, she slides down from the counter and onto her feet. 

“Mmm, you like it,” Trevor says, leaning in to kiss her again, but Honey just pushes him away.

“Get outta here,” she commands, trying to hold back a smile and failing. She pushes him to the door and he stumbles through it, laughing. 

“What’s so funny?” Vera asks, pausing her knitting.

“Trevor thinks he’s got jokes,” Honey says with a frown, her palms pressed against the small of Trevor’s back as she pushes him towards the entrance to The Reading Nook. He does not make it very easy for her. She’s able to wrench the door open and use her shoulder to push him out of the building, which makes him laugh again. He waves goodbye before he walks away.

After returning to the table, a lethal eye roll on Honey’s face in plain view for all the women to see, Scarlett speaks up. “What did he give you?”

“Nothing but grief,” Honey says with a nod and a huff of annoyance. “Here’s your scoop for the gossip circle, ladies– that boy is nothing but a loser.”

She’s overplaying it, but he really is. She just hopes that her voice doesn’t sound as fond about his loserish tendencies as the pitter-patter of her heart makes them out to be.

Honey returns to her own project, head down and avoiding the eyes of the ladies. They certainly have more questions, but Honey will not entertain the teases that these women are capable of. She already gets teased enough, even if their statements are made out of love and belonging.

The bell jingles above the door again and Bea walks in, sipping at the straw of her coffee. Later, when she goes to assemble her lunch on the counter, Honey is going to have to politely steer her towards the table. Then, Honey will have to explain why Bea can’t make her lunch on the counter until after Honey cleans it, and then they’ll squeal in the back room until Ada pops her head in and tells them to quiet down.

For now, though, Honey just wants to sit with her secret and feel her lips buzz with the mesmerizing phantom press of Trevor’s.

31:90 – TREVOR

Trevor doesn’t wake up to an alarm. He set one, he did, but instead, he wakes up to text after text from Bea.

what time are the guys leaving today

is quinn getting his haircut before or after he leaves

why aren’t you awake yet

when is the flight

which airport are they flying out of???

where are the awards again?

trevor get UP it’s almost 9 and i actually went to work on time today i’m BORED

oh and another thing

don’t think we’re not having a conversation about how you fingered honey on MYYYYY counter

with the ladies in the next room over?? you are an exhibitionist and i do not like the bad influence you have on honey

my workplace should not be brought into your sexcapades IDIOT

omg WAKE UPPPPPP

trevor

trevor

trevor

trevor

trevor

trevor

She’s still typing when Trevor finally wakes up and grabs his phone, irate and ready to chuck it across the room so that he can get that last twenty minutes of sleep before Quinn says it’s time to head to Charlotte.

will you stop by the nook before you leave so i can say goodbye

The thin line of Trevor’s patience finally snaps. He clicks through his phone, clicking on the blue number under Bea’s contact and bringing the phone to his ear. She picks up on the fourth ring and Trevor doesn’t let her take a breath before he snaps at her. “Give Quinn your fucking phone number so you don’t wake me up with a shit ton of pointless messages, Bea McLean.”

He’s pissed off and the girl has the nerve to laugh. “At least I got your attention.”

From a distance, Honey voice reaches the telephone. “Who is that?”

“It’s Trevor.”

“Oh.”

Trevor shakes off Honey’s “oh” as best he can. He’s hoping that her face conveyed more excitement about Trevor’s presence on the phone than her voice did. 

She seemed to like it when he fingered her on the counter. She was just as sassy as always, something Trevor wouldn’t trade for shit, and he cataloged every second of it for later– later, as in, when he got home and wrapped the same hand that was inside of her around his dick and stroked himself to a very quick release.

Trevor speaks again. “Why are you so against giving him your number?”

“Not him, dummy. If the other boys catch wind that I gave him my number, they’ll start demanding it.”

“The other boys?” Trevor asks.

“Jack.”

“Yeah.” Trevor pauses, rubbing his hand over his face. “So you need us to come to your work so you can give Quinn’s hair a goodbye kiss?”

“Tell him he’s not allowed in the store,” Honey says.

Trevor assumes she’s joking, but if she wasn’t, he’d be mad that she said that. He knows what Bea said about her one hundred attempts to push him away, but that’s just plain mean. What if he wanted to read a book? Would he have to send Cole to pick it up for him?

Luckily, Bea has Trevor’s back. “You didn’t seem to mind him being in the store yesterday.”

At the same time, Trevor doesn’t want to push his luck. Sometimes, with Honey, it seems like he goes one step forward and two steps back. He doesn’t want to give her a reason to pull away from him. “Tell her I can stay in the car.”

“What if I don’t want you to stay in the car? What if I want all of you to come into the store so Quinn and I can have a quickie in the back?” Bea asks, her tone pointed not at Trevor, but at Honey, who Trevor assumes is still hovering in the background. 

“In public?” Honey exclaims.

“As if you’re any better,” Bea says.

“Can you focus on me for a second? I don’t want to talk to you any longer than I have to,” Trevor says, speaking up so that Bea certainly can hear him. He snaps his fingers next to the speaker for a couple of seconds just to annoy the girl. “We’re headed to the Charlotte airport in like ten. I don’t think we have time to stop by and see you.”

“Well, how early will you be?” Bea sasses, a frown evident from the tone of her voice. “At the airport.”

“Q is on Dad Mode and wants to go two hours early.”

“Tell him that’s fucked. And then tell him that I’ll be mad at him if he doesn’t see me before he leaves.”

“Didn’t you come over yesterday and take a nap with him?” Trevor pinches his bottom lip and speaks through the muffle. 

Bea hums over the phone, high-pitched and obvious. 

“No one wants to hear about that,” Honey admonishes. 

“Go away. I’m talking to Trevor.”

“You’re barely talking to Trevor!” Trevor snaps. “You can’t just send me twenty texts and then talk more to Honey than to me–”

“So you’re jealous…”

“I want you to stop annoying me. Give Quinn your phone number–”

“That’s not going to happen…”

“And get out of my business!”

Trevor pulls the phone away from his ear and hangs up. He tosses it with a loud clatter onto the floor and experiences a brief moment of reprieve and silence before someone in the kitchen hits the ceiling with the broom. He bets it’s Cole. He recently watched the episode of Friends where Mr. Heckles died and he’s starting banging the broom against the ceiling “in memoriam” of the side character. 

Trevor rolls out of bed and pulls on a shirt, swapping his boxers for a new pair and pulling his jeans on. 

When he walks down the hall, he bangs on Luke and Quinn’s door. “Bea says she doesn't give a shit if you're late to the airport, she wants to say goodbye before your stupid haircut,” he announces through the wood of the door, hoping that the boys are doing their normal last-minute packing. He’s proven right when a muffled “okay” comes through the door and Trevor retreats, but not after he tells the boys that they’re leaving in five minutes and they’d better be in the car by then, or Trevor will make sure they never make it to the award show.

They don't make it to the car in time and, although he’s annoyed, Trevor’s threat was an empty one. He already abandoned Quinn in Charlotte once and he thinks Quinn might kill him if he pulls the same thing (but opposite) a second time.

Both Trevor and Cole tag along for the ride to the airport. They take Trevor’s car and the two non-Hughes ride in the front seat. The short ride to The Reading Nook reminds Trevor why they don’t normally allow the brothers to ride together in the backseat– because they’re annoying. Luke wasn’t even helpful this time– the mediator of the family refused to sit in the middle because his legs are too long, which left Quinn or Jack to take the middle and Quinn outright refused, despite being the shortest. 

Trevor can’t believe they have to drive all the way to Charlotte with the Hughes brothers in the back. It’s no wonder their parents bought a car with a third row and banished Jack to the “way-way back.” Trevor is considering trading his car in for Quinn’s rental car on the way out of town– the third row would give him reprieve. There’s only so many times Cole can turn up the music to drown out the brotherly bickering before the stereo is turned to maximum volume. 

Jack spills out of the car when they make it to The Reading Nook, barely letting Trevor shift the car into park before he’s climbing out and spreading his arms wide just because he can. He does the same with his feet, standing wide and starfishing vertically in the middle of the sidewalk, his head tilted back and eyes closed. There’s no regard for the passersby, nor for the brothers that are climbing out of the car after him.

Luke reminds him of his existence quickly with a sharp pat to the back of Jack’s head, knocking his hat off and taking it with him into the store. Jack chases after him, the front bell ringing as they barge through the door and disturb the quiet atmosphere of the Nook that Trevor has come to enjoy.

Cole and Quinn follow behind the boys at a normal pace and Cole holds the door open for Quinn, who gets an armful of Bea as soon as he crosses the threshold. 

Trevor watches from the car, true to his word. He catches Bea’s million-dollar-smile (her words, not his) as she throws her arms around Quinn’s neck and automatically intertwines her fingers in his hair. She blows a kiss at Trevor when she sees him, barely looking past Quinn to acknowledge the boy before she turns back to the man she’s all over. Trevor can’t see Quinn’s face, but he can imagine the content on Quinn’s features as Bea fusses over him and ignores the other boys.

Cole eventually makes his way into the store as well, leaving the door to close behind him. Trevor sees his own reflection against the glass, then turns back to the wheel.

He runs his fingernails along the stitching of the wheel. He goes around the whole circle, then traces the logo in the center of the wheel over and over. Eventually, he tires of that, and closes his eyes. He leans back against the headrest and plans the week out in his head– today, the Hughes boys leave. Tomorrow is the award show, then on Friday, Cole wants to bust out the hot tub since they haven’t used it yet. The boys come back on Saturday morning, filling the house again. 

Trevor has two days of peace. He’s happy for Quinn and Luke, nominated for the Norris and the Calder respectively, but he can’t wait to get some peace and quiet. If he’s lucky, Bea won’t bother him until Saturday when the boys get back.

His eyes are still closed when the passenger door opens and someone shuffles in. Assuming it’s Cole, or maybe even Luke, Trevor keeps his eyes closed and doesn’t acknowledge them.

“I wasn’t serious, you know. You’re allowed to come in the store.”

Trevor startles at Honey’s voice, his hands accidentally making contact with the horn and honking it. When he looks at her, she’s smiling, and he blushes.

“I wasn’t sure,” Trevor replies. “I didn’t want to overstep.”

Honey stares at him, unimpressed. “You fingered me in the back room of my work with the ladies in the other room and then asked to keep my panties. You’re either at zero or one hundred, aren’t you, Trevor?”

Trevor smiles, a little sheepish. “So you liked it?” He asks, biting down on his bottom lip after the question leaves him. One of his hands rubs over the hem of his shorts, fingers dipping under the fabric to toy with it. 

Honey hesitates, tapping her finger to her chin and looking up at the ceiling of the car to delay her answer even further, but Trevor knows that she’s just doing so to get on his nerves. “You were fine.”

“Fine?” Trevor demands. 

Honey shrugs. 

“You’re a dirty liar, Honey,” Trevor says. “I made you come in minutes and I barely touched your clit.”

“That was your problem. It could’ve gone faster.”

Trevor’s jaw is slack, then he laughs a little. “So you didn’t like it?”

Honey shrugs again, but there’s a little smile pulling at her lips. Trevor takes that as a good sign.

“You’re being mean to me when we both know that when I fingerfucked you, you couldn’t stop moaning for me,” Trevor says with an ounce of pride leaking into his statement.

“Just because you and I were the only two people in the room doesn’t mean I was moaning for you. How do you know for sure that I was thinking about you? I believe I brought this up yesterday, too.” Honey raises her eyebrows like a challenge.

Trevor leans into her space, over the center console. His elbows dig into the barely-cushioned leather and he knows his eyes are half-lidded from the way Honey leans back and tilts her chin up, appearing unaffected by his movements. She never falls for his sultry, go-to flirtatious expressions. “You definitely weren’t thinking about what would happen if we got caught,” Trevor says. “And who’s to say I would’ve stopped even if we had?”

Honey purses her lips, eyebrows turned down as she presses her tongue to the back of her front teeth. She stares at Trevor for a moment, evaluating him, then she turns and lets herself out of the car. She slams the passenger door in Trevor’s face and stomps toward the entrance of the store. 

Trevor rolls down the window and calls after her. “Too much?”

“You’re really banned from my store now,” Honey replies, not turning to look back. She wrenches the door open, bell jangling merrily in sharp contrast to the scowl that Trevor is sure adorns her face, then slams that behind her.

Within a minute, the boys shuffle out of the store awkwardly and clamber into the car. Jack ends up in the middle seat again, waiting for Quinn to climb in after him. 

Quinn hesitates before getting in the car, reluctant to let go of Bea’s hand. Trevor watches as he gives her a soft little smile and mumbles something before leaning over to kiss her cheek. 

Bea nods and puts her hand in his hair again, tilting his head down so she can kiss the brown mess. Then, she squeezes his hand and wishes him luck. She peers into the car. “You too, Lukey. Good luck.”

Quinn lets her go, then climbs into the car. Bea shuts the door for him, then waves goodbye. She turns and walks back into the store, and not five minutes later, Trevor gets a text from the girl.

thank you good sir i’ll make sure honey doesn’t ban you entirely

Then, another few minutes later, a picture of the front window of the shop that now hosts a “No Trevors Allowed” sign in the bottom corner of the window. Trevor saves the picture to his phone with a little smile. Honey’s dramatic. He likes her so much. 

32:90 – HONEY

Honey was hoping that with Quinn, Luke, and Jack gone for the next few days, she’d be free to sit at home and ignore Trevor’s looming presence. She could start her newest book– a romance, because she’s had a desire to read something trashy lately. She could bake something, or keep working on her knitting, or just go to bed early and rest. 

But Honey should’ve known that that would be too much to ask. 

Bea wants to watch the award show and she wants to watch it with the boys, since her libido has increased by leaps and bounds since she started hooking up with people regularly again and Cole’s the only boy left in town. Honey is sure that Bea will put him to use over the next two days. 

Honey tried to hide in the Nook again before closing, but she failed for a second time. She likes to think that she can outwit Bea, but the girls know each other so well that neither of them can get very far into something secret without the other finding out– or finding their hiding place. Next time she wants to avoid hanging out with the boys at Bea’s request, she’ll just ask Ada if she can leave early. If that doesn’t work, she’ll just escape when Bea isn’t looking and skip out on the end of her shift.

What’s Ada going to do? Fire her?

The worst part about Bea dragging Honey to the boys’ house is that Bea walked to work and Honey had only enough gas to get home before filling up the following morning… so she had to fill up her tank and Bea did not offer to pay, although it was her idea to go to the rental house in the first place.

Now, Honey is sat between Bea and Cole with a full hand of Uno cards, trying to shield her cards from the prying eyes of the blond boy on one side and ignore the girl on her other. Trevor is sat on the loveseat, flicking through the channels before finding ESPN and tossing the remote onto the table before them. He’s got his own hand of cards, but he’s left them out on the table for everyone to see. Bea has been reaching over and plucking his worst cards out of the pile on his turn. She’s also been working overtime to make sure Trevor receives every +4 card that she can find.

“When does the show start?” Bea asks, reaching forward to spread Trevor’s cards out even further.

“Seven,” Trevor replies, checking his watch and sounding bored. He hugs a pillow against his chest and yawns. Instead of returning to the game of Uno, he keeps his eyes on the television and lets Bea do whatever she wants with his cards.

Honey frowns, but then focuses back on her cards. She bats Cole away, then picks one of her cards and lays it down. She covers her hand, hiding it from view, and looks at the television. 

The announcers seem to be discussing various sports, just talking back and forth about stats and statistics. A lot of it is focused on hockey, with the awards coming up, and Honey raises her eyebrows when she sees a clip of Quinn hitting an opposing player, rocking the guy and spinning in a one-legged circle with the momentum. Other than the spin, he barely moved on the ice. He didn’t stumble at all from the weight of the other man crashing into him. 

Honey finds herself nodding at the sight of it, as if in a trance, then she shakes herself out of it. She returns to the Uno game, catching a side eye from Cole that was much too obvious to be a serious action as she reviews her cards.

Bea wins the game, because of course she does. She and her family are by-the-rulebook Uno players, so Bea almost always wins just by her sheer knowledge of what you can and cannot do in the game. 

Honey also thinks she might just be a very convincing liar.

Before they know it, the announcers are signing off for the night and ESPN is segueing into the NHL Awards. There’s impressive animations on the channel, clips of the players that are tastefully thrown together by the production team, and a live look at some of the families walking down the carpet. 

Honey is more excited about the creation of the broadcast than the contents of the broadcast itself, if you can’t tell. 

Bea slams the pack of cards on the table just as the cameramen start to show players and their guests. 

“Wow, they’re a gorgeous couple,” Bea marvels, drinking in the mint-colored suit and dress on a pair. 

The woman is blonde with some of the longest, possibly heaviest earrings Honey has ever seen and the man has a bright smile. His cheeks and nose seem a little sunburnt, but only in a way that glows. 

“That’s one of the guys Quinn is up against,” Trevor says.

Bea immediately frowns. “Then I hate their outfits and any talent he possesses,” she gripes, crossing her arms over her chest. 

She holds that position until a man with a mustache comes on the screen wearing the most jarring outfit Honey has ever seen. Whoever styled this man did not realize they were styling a premier athlete– they were told that his aesthetic was Cape-Cod Grandmother. Honey hopes that’s the case at least– she’d never get over it if this was the man’s actual style.

Bea agrees, speaking as if she can read Honey’s thoughts. “Holy shit, Emily Gilmore,” she breathes out.

Cole chokes on his yawn, whacking himself on the chest as his breath stutters. He looks up at the TV and starts laughing, rolling on the couch and clutching at his stomach. His face is contorted like he’s miserable from laughing so hard, growing red in the face. 

Trevor casts him a glare, bewildered. “Who’s Emily Gilmore?”

The way Trevor says her name sends Cole into another fit of giggles and Honey can barely suppress a smile. The boy’s smile is contagious.

“She’s, like, an old money Connecticut grandma,” Bea exclaims, grinning wildly as Cole chortles. “It’s from a show. What’s so funny, Co-Ca?”

“He’s making the Leafs look fucking stupid,” Cole forces out between laughs. He gulps down a few deep breaths to calm himself, then giggles again. 

“You’re lucky the Hughes boys didn’t hear you say that,” Trevor says. “You know how they hate when you poke fun at their childhood team just because they’re your rival.”

Bea shushes them all. “Speaking of the Hughes!” She points at the TV, eyes glued to the screen. She won’t even blink. 

Honey shakes her head fondly, then turns to catch what Bea’s looking at. 

She sees Luke first, with a sleek black suit and a tie that Honey can’t quite decide the color of– beige? gold? tan? Regardless of the color, it looks good on him, adding a pop of color to the outfit that’s just classy enough on Luke to not be overkill. He’s smiling wide, looking charming at the camera. Honey has never seen him turn on the charm like this before– but it’s impressive. He looks at home, even though once his smile fades between photos he looks back to his normal self. Maybe it finally set in that he was at the NHL Awards and that he’s nominated for once, not just attending with family. Honey hopes he’s not too nervous.

Quinn is next, looking mature in his black suit with the black tie. Whereas a colorful tie helped Luke out, color would just distract from the pure confidence Quinn exudes. He’s walking around like he’s already won the title of Best Defenseman, smirking at cameras and fixing his jacket. His hands go in his pockets after that and Honey admires his belt, a smooth black leather with a silver buckle. They’re simple and he looks smug, almost, in the outfit.

Honey looks over at Bea, who is biting the side of her bottom lip. 

She returns to Quinn. She notices that his hair was cropped much shorter, to an almost corporate length. Honey recalls the first time she met Trevor, when he said that all the buys were business partners. Quinn could definitely pass as an executive of a company, raking in the big bucks in a high-level office. 

“Has he always had that scar on his cheek?” Honey asks.

Bea shakes her head, still facing forward. “He just got it this past season, during the playoffs,” she tells Honey before Trevor or Cole can supply the information.

Jack isn’t shown right away, which is kind of disappointing for Honey. She would’ve liked to see all the boys right away. Honey leans forward to grab a handful of pretzels from Cole’s bowl of snacks. She catches Trevor watching her out of the corner of his eye when she sits back on the couch. She frowns, then chews a pretzel.

“Has their mom always been that gorgeous?” Bea asks, sounding awed. 

Honey looks to the TV and catches a blonde woman in a loose white shirt and black pants, looking delighted but reserved on the screen. Honey can imagine her as someone who would bake some brownies as a housewarming gift for her new neighbors upon their move into the neighborhood. Her hands are aged with love and although there are lines starting to peek at the corners of her eyes and cheeks, Honey immediately has nothing but respect for Mrs. Hughes.

She’s standing with an older man and Jack, holding onto the arm of Mr. Hughes with a casual intimacy that Honey audibly murmurs at. Mr. Hughes is smiling, close-lipped but proud as his sons join them. 

“She has Jack’s smile,” Bea says softly, sounding touched. “That’s so special.”

Speaking of Jack, Honey admires his outfit. He’s wearing a steely, almost metallic-iron suit with a black button-up beneath it. His suit wouldn’t be so eye-catching if he were wearing a white button-up, plus it would wash him out. He’s not wearing a tie, which makes him stand out, but his only problem is that Honey wishes he had taken more time with his hair. It doesn’t look as good as she knows it can, which is frustrating. 

The camera cuts away from the family after they catch that initial shot, so Honey loses the boys. Bea sighs at the same time, laying back as if she can bury herself between couch cushions. She frowns at the loss of the Hughes brothers and Trevor chuckles out a little laugh. 

“You know you get to meet them for Fourth of July,” he mentions, smirking at Bea.

The girl’s expression drops with her jaw, her eyes flashing. “What?” She asks, blinking rapidly. She sits forward again. “His parents are coming for the Fourth?”

Trevor laughs sharply and nods. “Yeah, Quinn didn’t tell you yet? They decided to come last week. They said the Michigan house seemed too empty this summer without them.”

Cole jumps in. “Plus, once they heard Jamie got invited on our ‘top-secret-vacation,’ they didn’t believe the excuse that we wanted to be alone this summer,” he laughs. “But you can’t really complain when Ellen and Jim are around. That reminds me, we have to find a new golf course for when Big J comes.” He’s speaking solely to Trevor and Honey rolls her eyes at the nickname– Mr. Hughes must hate it when Cole calls him ‘Big J.’

“Why didn’t you guys tell me sooner?” Bea cries, throwing her hands up. She runs one of her hands through her hair, gathering it out of her face. She ties her hair up with the elastic on her wrist and fans herself like she’s sweating. “I can’t meet their parents when I’m fucking all three of them.”

“Four if you count me,” Cole adds. “I’m like their adopted son. I’ve met their grandma and she loves me.”

Honey laughs aloud at that.

“All grandmas seem to like you, eh, Coley?” Trevor teases. “Vera loves you more than anyone else in Litchton.”

“Oh, God,” Honey groans, rolling her eyes. “You can never bring him to Knitting Circle.”

Everyone grows quiet for a second and Honey seems to realize what she said. She laughed with Trevor. 

Noooooooooo–

“Has Trevor gone to Knitting Circle with all the old ladies?” Bea asks, giggling. She looks elated to have found yet another thing to bother Trevor about and Cole looks mildly interested, a smile growing on his face. 

“You know how to knit?” Cole asks, poking his tongue between his teeth and sticking it out at Trevor with a crinkle of his nose. 

Trevor shrugs. “I needed a hobby for the summer. I was bored and stumbled on it one morning. Honey hates it when I show up.”

He looks over at her, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head in a tiny nod. His lips quirk, but barely.

Honey suddenly realizes that he’s staying true to his promise that he wouldn’t tell anyone. She doesn’t know why she doubted him, except for that flower incident outside the fruit stand, and she feels like it’s unbearable to look at him any longer. She blinks quickly and wrenches her gaze away from him before she can do something stupid like smile.

“Maybe I have to come to Knitting Circle,” Cole threatens, smiling wildly. “I have been looking for something to do this summer.”

“No, you can’t come,” Trevor says. “It’s my special thing.”

“Yours and Honey’s special thing,” Cole groans. “That’s not fair. Why do you want to exclude me so bad?”

“It’s not a Trevor and Honey thing,” Honey insists. “He just shows up and I have to be there because I’m the only one who shows up to work on time.”

“Not true!” Bea denies, upset. “I showed up on time yesterday.”

“And that was the first time since…?” Honey asks, reaching over and pinching Bea’s thigh. 

Bea bats her hand away and pouts, curling up into a ball on the couch. She’s still sitting upright, but she nestles herself in the corner of the cushions and the armchair, her knees pulled tight to her chest. She steals Honey’s blanket and wraps it around herself. 

“Shut up,” Bea says. “The show is starting.”

Honey returns her attention to the screen and the group of four grows quiet. Bea audibly coos and pinches her fingers at the TV when she sees all three brothers sitting on a couch together. 

The foursome doesn’t talk much throughout the show– Trevor and Cole make a few comments about the attendees, explaining who they are and why they’re important to the girls. Bea makes a comment about the announcer, about how she doesn’t like his jokes. Honey just shrugs, but she silently agrees. The attendees just look uncomfortable when he talks, especially a younger looking boy with brown hair. 

It takes a while for the awards to actually get going, but Luke’s is one of the first. Honey is surprised to know that he’s in his first year in the league. When she was watching their scrimmage the other day, pretending to tan while Trevor pranced around in his little compression shorts, Luke seemed well-practiced and mature when handling the puck. 

She supposes it makes sense– he’s had twenty years of puck-handling under his belt. The boy could skate before he could walk and had a stick in hand like a silver spoon when he was born. All of the boys did– not that it’s a bad thing. They’re lucky that they love hockey so much– it’s their destiny.

Bea stands and shrieks at the television when Luke doesn’t win the Calder Trophy, waving a finger wildly and stomping her feet with a frown. She had the same reaction when she would attend Honey’s softball games and the umpires would make a bad call. It makes Honey laugh.

The boys try to explain the voting system to Bea, as well as Luke’s stats. Bea doesn’t care.

“It’s unfair is what it is,” Bea says petulantly. “Who is this Connor Bedard kid anyway?”

That makes Trevor laugh, tossing his head back. “He’s a first overall pick and he got to enter the minors in Canada a year early because he’s just that good, Bea. Luke wasn’t going to get the Trophy, but it’s an honor to have been nominated. There are a lot of rookies in the league. Luke is top three– that’s sick.”

“Luke is top one,” Bea insists. 

Trevor rolls his eyes and holds his hands up in surrender. “Whatever you say.”

Bea nods, satisfied with Trevor’s cession. She makes little comments here and there about each person on the screen, each winner of each award, and even continues to gripe about the announcer. She’s surprised to see celebrity announcers on stage who reveal the winners of the trophies. 

Finally, it’s Quinn’s turn, and Bea shushes everyone, even though she was the only one talking. She sits forward and folds her hands together, her fingertips pressing against her bottom lip. Her eyes are trained on the screen, drinking in the introductions and smiling a little when they show Quinn’s image in the corner of the screen.

“C’mon, Q,” Cole breathes out, anxiously biting a hangnail on his thumb. He waits with baited breath, as does Honey. Trevor pinches his bottom lip between his thumb and middle finger and stares at the TV.

The pause between the announcers’ words seems to stretch eternally. The celebrity announcers do not speak in unison, the girl hesitating when the boy lags behind, making the announcement frustrating for Honey. 

When they announce Quinn’s name, Bea jumps to her feet and screams, bouncing up and down. Cole joins her and they bounce around the room hugging and cheering while Quinn accepts his award. Bea reaches for Honey and pulls her into the circle, while Trevor laughs from his loveseat and tries to focus on Quinn’s speech. In celebration, Bea kisses Cole’s cheek, Honey’s cheek, and Trevor’s forehead, collapsing across his legs and grabbing his wrists to clap his hands together in applause. She pinches Trevor’s cheeks too, then holds her hand out flat in front of his face.

“What?” Trevor asks, clapping his hand down on hers and dapping her up. 

Bea drops his dap and flattens her hand in front of him again. 

Trevor goes to spit his gum out in her hand, but Bea wrenches it back. “Ew!”

“What?” Trevor repeats, laughing.

“I need your phone,” Bea tells him. 

“Why?” Trevor asks.

“I want to call Quinn and congratulate him,” Bea says.

Trevor rolls his eyes. “He won’t be able to talk to you until later tonight. The show’s going to last for a little while, then they have to do photos after. You’d be better off calling him tomorrow. Can I interest you in putting his number in your phone?”

Bea pushes Trevor’s head back so it knocks against the cushions, then climbs off of him. She pulls on his belt loops until he’s teetering on the edge of the couch and kicking his legs out to get Bea to let go. “Give me your phone or I’ll beat you up.”

Trevor laughs, so Bea pops him on the hip with a sharp hand. He winces at that and shakes her off. “Dude, you can call him later. Get off me.”

“Yeah, Bea, leave him alone,” Honey says. 

“But I want to call Quinn to tell him how pretty he looks,” Bea whines, pouting.

“Call him later. Trevor can text him and make sure that Quinn calls when he’s back at his hotel room. Right, Trevor?” Honey says. She turns to the boy, who is situating himself on the loveseat again. He looks surprised that Honey addressed him, but pleased nonetheless.

“Yeah, I’ll shoot him a text now,” Trevor says, nodding along at Honey’s suggestion.

She wants to roll her eyes at how willing he is to text Quinn when she says it, although he would have continued to fight Bea as long as she kept pestering him. He dutifully pulls his phone out of his back pocket and taps away at the screen, eventually locking it and putting it away. He smiles at Honey when he’s done, but she only catches it out of the corner of her eye. She’s turned back to the TV by now.

The night passes with little more interest, except for the boys. They nod along with most of the remaining winners, unsurprised by the award recipients. Bea and Honey play Uno again between themselves and Bea wins for the millionth time. Honey asks her to play pool, which she won’t because she doesn’t want to lose, but Cole does. Bea eventually takes Trevor’s phone with a “hi, Q-baby!” and heads upstairs with it, squealing excitedly into the phone. Trevor joins the remaining pair at the pool table, perching himself upon one of the saddle-stools and watching Honey playfully tease Cole throughout the loss. Cole demands a rematch, which Honey grants him, and after he loses that round, Trevor grabs his own cue and proposes a game of 9-ball.

They play a few rounds, the game much easier given that there are so many fewer balls on the felt. Honey wins a few and so do Trevor and Cole, but no one is keeping track. No one is updating the board. They’re just having a good time– and it’s a night that Honey knows she’ll remember for the rest of her life. 

33:90 – TREVOR

It feels like as soon as the girls leave, they’re back. Bea might’ve slept over, to be honest, but Trevor doesn’t know. He knows Honey left because she never made it to his bedroom (and yes, he did go looking for her). 

But now she’s back to soak in the hot tub with them, since Cole mentioned uncovering it last night and Honey said Bea would like that. She brought Bea with her, obviously, although Trevor would have liked to see just Honey. 

On the bright side, he has a plan to get Bea out of the picture– Quinn did an interview today for the Four Nations Face-Off, since he was named to Team USA, and Trevor expects Bea to be very interested in how his hair looks after he hasn’t showered in a day. She’ll be even more interested to hear about how the brothers went gambling and they had to sneak Luke in since he’s under the legal limit. He’s actually ready to hand over his phone and allow the girl to disappear if it means that he can have Honey alone– Cole is the only other person he needs to take care of.

That shouldn’t be hard. All he has to do is keep feeding Cole beers and the boy will grow tired sooner rather than later. Trevor actually already started the process– Cole’s been drinking all day and so has Trevor, but Trevor’s been able to keep a grip on himself by eating plenty and drinking water.

When the girls walk through the front door, they’re already wearing their swimsuits. Trevor can tell because Honey’s got a sweatshirt on, the same one that she wore on the boat a few weeks ago, and Trevor can see her long, long legs beneath it. The sweatshirt is just long enough that Trevor knows she’s not hiding shorts under there– just the swimsuit. 

Bea’s the opposite. She’s got a knitted wrap around her body, like a long cardigan, but it doesn’t open in the front like a cardigan. It’s also threadbare on purpose– Trevor can see right through it. She’s got a blue flowery bikini on underneath it, which Cole compliments right away.

“Bea, you look good in blue,” Cole says, tongue loose from all the beer. 

Trevor smirks against the lip of his own bottle and takes a sip to hide it, although he catches Honey’s eye and knows that she’s figured him out immediately. 

But she doesn’t say anything, to Trevor’s excitement.

“Thanks, Coley,” Bea says. “I’ve been told it’s my signature color.”

“For good reason.”

Trevor takes another swig of his beer bottle before leaning to set it on the table. “Hot tub?”

Cole’s face lights up when Trevor mentions it. He scrambles to his feet and nearly forgets to grab his drink but circles back around. “Yes! I uncovered it this afternoon.” He walks toward the back porch, then Honey grabs his arm.

“Cole, we’re upstairs. The hot tub is on the patio. Let’s go out from the basement door, yeah?” She says, leading him towards the basement steps. Cole goes happily, shifting Honey’s hand down so that he can intertwine fingers with her, and he looks very pleased about it.

Trevor rolls his eyes. If Cole could hold hands with someone all day long, he would. It doesn’t matter who.

Bea and Trevor follow along, with the girl shedding her cover up as soon as they make it down the stairs. She tosses the white article of clothing onto the couch, toeing off her shoes when they reach the door. 

Honey is laughing as Cole starts to pull his shirt off, struggling with the fabric when it gets stuck on his neck. She helps him take it off, then tosses it aside. It hits Trevor in the chest and he catches it when it falls. 

“Cole, you’re not wearing a swimsuit,” Bea says. “Wouldn’t you prefer it if you went to change?”

Cole’s eyebrows furrow and he frowns. “No?” He replies. “I can just wear my underwear. It’s the same thing, pretty much.”

Bea’s mouth quirks up at the edges and she raises her hands, backing up a step. “Whatever you say.”

Cole nods with a “hmph”, dropping his shorts and stepping out of them. He climbs into the hot tub, grinning to himself as he settles in.

Bea joins him, sitting across from the boy. He starts talking about something– Trevor can’t be bothered to listen to what– and Bea engages with him. 

Honey walks over towards the house and places a hand on the doorframe to balance herself as she toes her own shoes off next to Bea’s. 

Trevor joins her, draping Cole’s shirt over one of her shoulders. He leans into her space and says quietly, “Want to undress me, too?”

Honey startles back at his words, her head snapping up and her expression growing dark. She slaps Trevor’s arm repeatedly, gritting her teeth and hissing at him. “Get– away– from me!” Honey exclaims between hits, finally using Cole’s shirt as an added weapon. She twists the shirt and snaps it at him like a dishtowel. “You are so fucking annoying!”

She pulls her sweatshirt over her head and stomps away from Trevor before he can really take in the view, but he’s perfectly content watching her walk away. She’s wearing a purple swimsuit, almost like the plum of his alternate jersey, and her bottoms are quite cheeky– Trevor chooses to believe she wore that just for him.

He pulls his shirt over his head and sheds his shorts, leaving him just in his underwear like Cole. He climbs into the tub, stretching his legs out and laying his feet flat on the edge of the step where Honey sits, on either side of her legs. Cole stacks his legs on top of Trevor’s, then Bea on top of Cole’s and Trevor’s. Honey stays still, arms crossed over her chest and glaring at Trevor.

“Let’s play a game,” Honey says, voice hard and eyes never leaving Trevor’s own. “It’s called ‘everyone say one thing you hate about Trevor.’ I’ll start: he sucks.”

“I love this game!” Cole exclaims. “I’ve got a list for all the boys. I hate Trevor because he’s too loud. Bea, your turn!”

“I’m too loud?” Trevor interrupts, letting out a little laugh. “You barely ever shut up, Cole.”

“And yet, somehow you talk more than me. I have another: Trevor snores. I hate sharing a room with you at the lake house.” Cole sticks his tongue out at the other boy.

“Well, good thing we’re not there this summer,” Trevor bites back. 

“My turn!” Bea says, splashing Cole. “You said I could go. You can’t get two turns. Now you have to lose a turn next round. I hate that Trevor thinks he can tell me what to do.”

“I never tell you what to do,” Trevor says.

“‘Bea, put your number in Quinn’s phone!’ ‘Bea, stop texting me!’ ‘Bea,’ blah, blah, blah,” Bea mimics, pulling her hands out of the water to make a talking motion with her fingers. “You’re always whining about me.”

“I don’t like this game,” Trevor says. He takes his legs out from under Cole’s and they drop, bringing Bea’s along with them. The water splashes and spills over the edges of the tub a little bit.

“Oh,” Cole says, a lightbulb practically appearing over his head. “Should we turn on the jets?”

Trevor shrugs, as does Honey. Bea nods. “If you want,” she says. 

“I want,” Cole replies, twisting in his seat and leaning over the edge of the tub to find the button for the jets. He presses a few buttons that do nothing, seemingly, before he finds the jets. 

Trevor moves so there’s one pushing water out and hitting the small of his back. It’s soothing and it inches him closer to Bea, who crinkles her nose at the proximity. She crosses the tub and cuddles up next to Cole. The boy throws his arm over Bea’s shoulders and leans his head against hers.

And now, Trevor is sitting next to Honey. She doesn’t say anything to him, instead opting to talk to Bea about some memory from the long-ago, distant past, talking about the first time they got to go in a hot tub. Bea ruins the story for Trevor by mentioning the boy who stole Honey’s first kiss from Trevor– no, he’s not delusional– on the same vacation.

Honey starts to climb out of the tub after the story ends and Trevor watches the water drip off of her. 

“Where are you going?” He asks. This isn’t how the night was supposed to go– Bea was supposed to go inside to talk to Quinn, then Cole was supposed to go to sleep. Honey wasn’t supposed to leave first.

Honey fixes him with a reproachful look. “I wouldn’t expect you to know, but you’re not supposed to stay in a hot tub for more than fifteen minutes. It messes with the regulation of heat in your body. Fifteen minutes in, fifteen minutes out.”

“That’s a hoax, Hon,” Bea says. 

“It is not,” Honey replies with her chin held high. She opens the closet near the outdoor shower and digs out a towel. She wraps it around herself and lets herself into the house, pausing at the door. “Would anyone like anything?”

“Beer?” Cole asks. “And can you check the draft to see what they’re on? Montréal picks fifth.”

Trevor forgot that the draft was today– they’re using the Sphere, which is kind of fun, and Trevor is a little jealous. His draft was in Rogers Arena, in Vancouver, a place where he had been plenty of times before because Quinn had been drafted there the year prior. It doesn’t seem very special. 

“Yeah, can you check the draft? It’s on ESPN. Can you put it on the outside speakers, too?” Trevor asks.

Honey frowns. “I will check the draft for Cole. I will not put it on the outside speakers because I do not wish to listen to hockey all night.” She turns with a dramatic flourish and her towel swishes like a cape. 

Trevor watches her retreat, eyes trained on those long, long legs as she goes. He’s smiling, way too big for someone who was told ‘no’ by the girl he likes.

He’s mostly quiet while she’s gone, listening to Bea and Cole chitchat about nothingness. He does manage to tell Bea about Quinn’s hair, which she demands to see, and Trevor hands over his phone, which is open to Quinn’s Instagram. He posted his own thirst trap, probably just for Bea despite knowing that she doesn’t have an Instagram. Trevor overheard them talking the other night about the possibility of Bea redownloading the app and making a new account so that she can follow Quinn– just Quinn– and this thirst trap might be the nail in the coffin.

Annoyingly, it doesn’t have the effect that he wants. Bea does not climb out of the tub with Trevor’s phone to go call Quinn and tell him how gorgeous he looks– she must’ve gotten her fill yesterday. 

Or she’s just focused on getting Cole in bed again, giving him a second go-around. Trevor doesn’t understand why– she’s so taken with Quinn that they might as well make it official. He thinks it might be an experiment for her, like the Jack thing and his timer. She’s very scientific, isn’t she?

Honey comes back with two beers in hand, a Budweiser and a Modelo. Trevor smiles– she remembered that Modelo is his favorite.

Honey twists the top off both beers and hands the Bud to Cole. She slides into the tub as far away from Trevor as she can get, with Cole putting his other arm around her and pulling her to his side just like Bea. 

Trevor reaches out for the Modelo, waiting for Honey to hand it over. She gives him a look with one raised eyebrow and brings the bottle to her mouth, taking a drink. Trevor takes his hand back. 

“What, you thought that I was bringing you a drink?” Honey asks. “Did you ask for one?”

“No, but–”

“Then it’s not for you.” She purses her lips and waits to see if Trevor has a response, which he doesn’t. Instead, he looks at the water, where his hands have folded over his stomach. He’s grateful that the jets are creating waves that distort the image of everything under the water– he’d hate for Honey and the rest of the tub-dwellers to see that he chubs up a bit each time Honey gets sassy with him. She’s such a brat. One of these days, he’s really going to fuck all of that attitude out of her. If she lets him. She might not, but he’s determined to get to that point.

“How’s the draft?” Cole asks.

Honey recites the first few picks off the top of her head. Trevor watches her do so, a tiny smile on his face. The only thing that he likes more than when Honey yells at him is when she talks about hockey; even though she pretends she doesn’t care, she sure pays a lot of attention to the sport in recent weeks. She’s even up to date on the lingo. Her use of ‘puck bunny’ the other day had Trevor smiling for hours after.

“The sweetest looking kid went third and he very clearly had no idea that he would be the bronze pick of the draft based on the way he said ‘what the fuck’ twice to his parents after his name was called,” Honey says. “It was so precious. I want to put him in my pocket.”

Trevor looks down to hide his smile. The Ducks picked third. This kid is his new teammate. He’ll have to convince Honey to visit him in Anaheim later this year and introduce her to the rookie– so she can really adopt him as her own. 

“What about the fifth pick?” Cole asks.

“Ivan Demidov,” Honey says. “Celine Dion announced the pick.”

“Celine Dion?” Bea repeats.

“Ivan Demidov,” Cole murmurs thoughtfully. “That’s a good pick. We needed a right winger. Slaf’s our best one. I thought the analysts said Demidov would go to Chicago.” 

The last part of his statement is directed at Trevor, who just shrugs. He hadn’t paid attention to the analysis this year. It doesn’t really matter, since each team is working for what’s best for them and ignoring the speculation from the analysts.

Trevor is doing the same thing about trade rumors. He’s ignoring until something official comes through. It would be annoying to be traded and lose his upper hand over Honey– introducing her to that rookie, of whom she is now a fan.

The next time Honey leaves the tub, Trevor follows her.

“Would you quit following me around?” Honey asks, climbing the stairs into the kitchen.

“No,” Trevor replies. “I like being around you.”

“Too much, I think,” Honey says. “You’re breathing down my neck.”

“I’m too far away to be doing that,” Trevor says. 

Honey’s back is to him as she opens the fridge and the freezer at the same time, frowning as she scans the shelves for something. She hasn’t told Trevor what she’s looking for, although he could probably help her find whatever it is much quicker than she could. She bends a little at the waist, craning her neck to evaluate a shelf.

Trevor comes closer, pressing his hips against her behind. She stands, stiff against him, but there’s nowhere for her to move unless she wants to climb into the fridge and shut herself in.

“Now I’m breathing down your neck,” Trevor murmurs, moving her hair to one side and kissing her neck. For extra emphasis, he exhales on the skin. “I hope you can tell the difference.”

“You’re being obvious,” Honey chastises. “You shouldn’t be following me around. Someone’s going to find out. You need to work on your subtlety.”

“Bea already knows,” Trevor says. “And the only other person here is Cole. He doesn’t notice anything unless it’s right in front of him. As long as you don’t climb onto my lap– which I know is very hard for you– you’ll be fine.”

Honey frowns and opens her mouth to rebut, but Trevor manages to silence her by sucking a little on her neck, right below her hairline on the side of her neck. He can feel her head tilting back at the sensation and he smirks. 

“You like that spot, huh?” Trevor mumbles against her skin. “Or do you just like the boy who’s kissing you there?”

That makes Honey laugh and push him off. “I do not like the boy who’s kissing me, especially when he doesn’t listen. I don’t want Cole to find out.”

“He’ll be off to bed soon and Bea will be busy talking to Quinn, he did an interview that I think she’ll find particularly enticing,” Trevor says, fixing Honey’s hair so it covers the mark blooming on her neck. “I’ve never made a girl come in a hot tub before, but I think tonight is my lucky night.”

Honey hums. “Probably not, unless you want a load of blood to taint your hot tub water.” She fixes Trevor with an evil smile. “I’m on my period.”

“I thought you were ovulating last week,” Trevor says. “Doesn’t it usually take two weeks for your period to start after that? You’re not lying to me, are you, Honey?”

Her distraction tactic didn’t work– she seems to think that Trevor would be put off by her period talk, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. The truth being that he doesn’t care– he’s attracted to her all the time.

“My hormones are out of whack and someone fingered me for the first time in years, and he wasn’t exactly gentle about it,” Honey replies, making a face at Trevor. “So I, for one, am not surprised that my period came early.”

“Well I’ll make a note that we should be fine for the next month,” Trevor teases with a grin. “And that you’ll be trying to jump me two weeks from now because you’ll be ovulating again.”

Honey rolls her eyes. “I can’t wait until the boys get back so that Quinn can bruise your ego and keep you in check,” she says. “But, really, Trevor. You can’t follow me around and be all close to me. It’s too obvious.”

“But I like you and I can’t hide my feelings,” Trevor says innocently, blinking at her with wide eyes and a little pout.

“Learn to,” Honey snaps. Her voice is hard, but she pats Trevor’s hip as she walks away, snapping the waistband of his underwear before she gets out of arm’s reach.

Trevor rejoins the group in the hot tub shortly after, but he takes his time getting there. Contrary to Honey’s belief, he does care about his own subtlety because it makes her happy when he’s not being obvious. Just like how it should make her happy when she gives into his advances– because it makes him happy. 

Cole makes it until 10pm. By then, he’s far too drunk to stay in the hot tub. Bea goes to bed with him, although she takes Trevor’s phone with her so that she can talk to Quinn into the night. They’re coming back in the morning, but Bea and Quinn are impatient. They enjoy talking to each other too much to spend a night away from the other.

It leaves Honey and Trevor in the hot tub, but Honey just pushes him away when he gets close and climbs out. 

“Really, Trev, I’m not in the mood,” Honey says. 

“Okay, that’s fine,” Trevor says. “Do you want to hang out?”

“Not particularly,” Honey replies with a little laugh. “We only really hang out when we’re hooking up, don’t we?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s not how it has to be,” Trevor says. “We can hang out without hooking up.”

Honey hums. “You know, I don’t think we can,” she tells him. “Especially in a world where you don’t care about our privacy.”

Trevor’s taken aback at that. “What do you mean?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I haven’t told anyone.”

Honey mocks his voice– “‘Who’s to say I would’ve stopped even if we had been caught?’” She says, voice deep and stupid-sounding. “Your hoes might’ve found that hot, Trevor, but I don’t really think our interests align if you’re looking to keep fucking me when someone else walks in.” 

Trevor stares at her, not sure what to say.

Honey clears her throat and continues. “Considering… everything.”

Trevor’s not sure what she’s referring to. “Considering… what? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just said it because, like, I wanted to make you feel good…”

Honey sighs, then nods. She forces her first couple words out, then pauses again. “You did. It’s just– I mean, I don’t want people seeing me like that. I already had one whole ‘leaked nudes’ thing, Trevor.”

Trevor’s stomach drops. He didn’t realize that his line in the car the other day had implied that he would be okay with other people seeing Honey so intimately. That’s not what he meant.

“I’m not really looking to be so exposed when people walk in on us.”

“I didn’t mean that, Honey, no,” Trevor scrambles to tell her. “I didn’t mean, like, I’d keep fucking you with them watching, it was just… heat of the moment. I wanted you to come.”

Honey presses her lips together into a line and flares her nostrils. “I get that, Trevor, I do, but it’s the way that you didn’t even think about it.”

“I’m sorry,” Trevor apologizes. “I really didn’t mean anything by it.”

Honey ducks her head and raises a finger to silence him. She’s already climbed out of the tub and donned her sweatshirt, hiding herself from Trevor’s wandering eyes. “I know you didn’t. That’s why I didn’t blow up at you in the car. You just need to think before you speak, Trevor.”

She crosses her arm over her stomach and Trevor climbs out of the tub, sopping wet. He nears her, but makes sure that he’s not dripping on her. “I will,” he promises. “I’m just not used to– well, having to try so hard.” He ducks his head.

Honey scoffs, a breath of laughter leaving her lips. She tucks her index finger into Trevor’s waistband and pulls him closer. He’s standing right in her space and she slots her lips over his, pressing against him for a sweet, blissful, too-short taste. “Just– don’t be such a fuckboy,” she says. “I hate you less when you’re an idiot.”

“So, all the time?” Trevor jokes, finding her hand and holding it. He’s holding back, but only because he’s uncertain. Honey has that effect over him– she knows exactly what she wants always, even though she doesn’t always explain it, and Trevor is just trying the best he can. He won’t say it out loud, but he knows that she likes him and she won’t admit it. He’s just not sure how to make her like him all the time.

Honey fixes him with an unimpressed look and smiles when she shakes her head. “You’re not an idiot all the time,” she says. “You’re very perceptive. I’m the difficult one.”

Trevor mirrors her actions, shaking his own head. “You’re not difficult at all.”

Honey hums, but says nothing. She pops up onto her tiptoes to give his lips another peck, then she drops his hand. “I’m going home, and no, you can’t come,” she says with a knowing tilt of her head. “But I’ll see you tomorrow for the bonfire, yes?”

Trevor nods, hoping for another goodbye kiss, but Honey just pats his cheek. She wishes him a goodnight before walking into the house and disappearing up the stairs. Trevor hears her car start while he’s trying to figure out how to turn the hot tub off. It takes him a few minutes, then even more to fit the cover over the tub, and by the time he makes it upstairs, Cole’s light has long since been turned off and his phone is locked and plugged in on his nightstand.

34:90 – HONEY

Thwack. 

Honey’s eyes widen a little and she stops chewing on her bottom lip, realizing that she’s pulling at a patch of skin that could start bleeding if she bites it any longer.

Thwack.

She instead pulls her sunglasses off the top of her head and bites down on one of the temple tips, holding it between her front teeth. The tip of her tongue pokes at the very edge, sucking a bit at the silicone tip.

Thwack.

She shifts in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. Bea sits next to her, one leg outstretched like she’s laying down. Her other is pulled up, heel on her chair and pulled tight against her body. One of her hands is closed around her ankle, while her other elbow rests on the arm of the chair. Her wrist bends daintily and her index finger is poised on the wet inside of her bottom lip, hooking it like she wants to tug on it but can’t.

Luke shifts another log up on its end so it’s standing in front of him. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with one hand, his curls dripping. With the other, he holds the ax that he’s using to split the wood. The muscles in his arms ripple as he grabs the ax with both hands and raises it above his head, bringing it down quickly to split the wood.

Thwack.

He’s shirtless. He’s much more tan than he was the first time they went on the boat and he’s put on some weight since the start of the summer. He’s muscular and defined, particularly in his chest and abs, and he just seems to continue to grow. He’s strong.

If Honey didn’t get it before, she does now.

Thwack.

Bea clears her throat, coughing a little bit. “He’s, um…”

“Yeah,” Honey breathes out with a slight nod, eyes still on Luke. He’s got only one log left and she’ll be damned if she misses it.

He hasn’t been quite the same since returning from Las Vegas, where they held the awards this year. He’s been pretty quiet, keeping to himself. Honey had thought they were past this, but Luke has practically reverted to how he was when he first came to Litchton. She hopes it’s just the loss on his mind, nothing more.

Luke posts the log in front of him, kicking aside some of the smaller pieces he’s already cut. Trevor has been gathering the pieces and setting them near the fire pit for the bonfire, while Quinn and Jack are cooking on the grill. Cole is inside, slicing the fruit that Honey brought over from her most recent trip to the fruit stand, but the other boys are barely a thought in the girls’ heads.

He raises the ax and Honey’s mouth grows slightly more ajar, the tip of her sunglasses pressing against the flat of her tongue now, as she watches Luke’s happy trail elongate then fold when he brings the ax down. The waistband of his underwear peeks out of his shorts. 

Thwack.

The wood falls into two even parts, which Luke pushes over with the blade of the ax. He turns and lays the tool against the wall of the rink, then surveys his hands for splinters. He brushes them against his shorts, then wipes his face again.

Bea wipes the corners of her mouth with her thumb, then stands and grabs one of Luke’s hands before he even knows that she’s moving. Honey laughs when Luke trips over his own feet, pulled along by Bea towards the house. 

Honey’s laughter draws Trevor’s attention, whereas Bea and Luke’s stomping feet draws Quinn and Jack’s. Eventually, Trevor realizes what Honey was laughing about and comes to gather the rest of the wood.

“Enjoy the show?” Trevor mutters, stacking the logs in his arms until he can’t carry any more. He stands to his full height, arms bursting with wood. “Should I take my shirt off and chop some wood, too, since that’s the kind of thing that leaves you and Bea drooling?”

“I think Bea would enjoy your shirtlessness much more than I would,” Honey replies, uncrossing her legs and leaning back in the chair. She uses the temple of her glasses to push her hair out of her face, then tucks the accessory back into the hair atop her head. Her least favorite thing about the summer is that it’s too hot to wear her hair down, so it’s almost always up in a half-assed bun. “Jealous much, Trevor?”

Trevor tilts his head at her, unimpressed with her response. “Luke’s not a threat to me.”

“Just like how Jamie wasn’t a threat to you?” 

Honey’s proud of the comeback, smug whenever she makes Trevor quiver in his boots. She likes when she makes Trevor shut up, especially because it’s so rare according to Cole. 

Trevor indeed doesn’t have a reply, just frowning at Honey and turning to deposit the wood into the pile he had made next to the fire pit. 

Jack wanders over with two plates and steals Bea’s chair next to Honey. “What are we talking about?”

“Bea and Luke,” Honey says.

Jack hums, nodding slightly. “Finally his turn, eh?” He hands one of the plates to Honey, a burger and its fixings on the plate. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I brought it all.”

“Do you want my tomato?” Honey asks.

“I’ll take it,” Quinn jumps in, joining them. He pauses in front of Honey, holding his plate out so that she can drop the tomato slice onto his burger, then chooses another seat closer to the fire pit. 

Trevor is kneeling at the pit, a long lighter nudging at a pile of newspaper hidden beneath the logs of wood that he had stacked into a little tower. 

Once he gets the fire going, Quinn reaches out with his shoe-covered foot and kicks the boy in the arm. “Go get your dinner,” he says, then focuses on his own burger. 

The Hughes boys are not the best conversationalists during meal times, Honey has learned. They often are more focused on shoveling food into their mouths than talking to those around them, which she doesn’t really mind. 

There was a time in her life when she had to sit with her parents for dinner every day, no matter what her plans were or if something was bothering her. She would have to make small talk, describe what took place that day, and act polite and happy regardless of how she was actually feeling. Sometimes, she was permitted to eat in silence after she described her day. She preferred those days, even though the majority of them took place after she had decided to leave Charlotte and start anew in Litchton. Her parents knew, then, that she wouldn’t change her mind about moving to the quiet mountain town and they didn’t have much fight left in them.

Her memories of those days usually end like this when she indulges in them– she loses her appetite and her food tastes like stale nothingness, but she has to eat it anyway.

Honey’s phone buzzes in her pocket with a text from Bea.

will you fix two plates for me and luke and bring them upstairs pleeeeease?

Upon reading the text, Honey cringes. So soon? she thinks. They’ve got to be, like, mid-session. She texts such to Bea, punctuating her text with the green about-to-vomit emoji before taking another bite of her burger. 

Cole joins them before Bea texts her back, dishing a bunch of fruit onto each person’s plate before fixing his own burger and choosing a seat near the bonfire. “Thanks for the food, Norris,” Cole says to Quinn before he digs in. 

Quinn snorts out a little laugh, shaking his head before he thanks Cole through a mostly-chewed bite. Honey crinkles her nose, annoyed at the lack of manners each of the boys manage to have when they’re with their friends. 

Trevor is fixing his plate as she reads Bea’s recent text (“not mid-session. helpppp SOS soooo hungry pls pls pls pls”). Honey looks over to where he stands, next to the plates, and sighs a little. She stands.

“Where are you going?” Cole asks.

Honey sighs audibly this time. “Apparently Bea and Luke need dinner.”

Jack snickers, popping a piece of pineapple in his mouth. It bulges in his cheek as he smiles at Honey. “And you’ve been invited to bring it to them? How lucky.”

“Fuck off,” Honey replies, narrowing her eyes at Jack. “Don’t let the flies get my food and I’ll give you an M&M, eh?” She uses his own mannerism against him, not for the first time, but it is the first time she’s alluded to knowing about Bea’s experiment. 

Now that she’s thinking about it, Cole and Luke are probably the only two that don’t know about the timer. Well, maybe just Cole– Quinn probably told Luke so that they could team up against Jack in Vegas when need-be. She’s vindicated when she sees Quinn hide a smile behind his burger.

She leaves her plate on her seat, trusting that Jack will follow her directions while she’s gone. Honey joins Trevor near the grill, watching him scoop fruit onto his plate and reach for a fork. 

“Come to my room later,” Trevor says at a normal volume, nonchalant. 

Honey throws a look over her shoulder, but none of the other boys seem to have heard him. “What?” She asks.

“Come to my room later,” Trevor repeats. He’s not looking at her, nor is he inching closer and trying to make a move like he did the night before.

“Why?” Honey demands.

Trevor shrugs and walks away.

Honey’s nostrils flare and she grinds her teeth. Who does he think he is? Why does he think he can ask her to do something and she’ll just do it? If she makes it up to his room later, it’ll just be so that she can tell him off and render him silent yet again.

She makes two plates of food with a little anger in her actions, scooping the fruit and plopping it onto the plate. She smashes the bun on top of Bea’s burger with a little too much force, flattening the food. 

She stomps up the stairs, making her presence very known as she approaches the room that Quinn and Luke, and often Bea, share. She knocks, loudly, and waits an extra second after Bea tells her that she can come in. 

When she finally does open the door, she finds Bea and Luke sitting on opposite beds and Luke has gained a shirt rather than losing the rest of his clothes. Bea looks untouched and fine with it, flicking through a magazine and laying on Quinn’s bed. When Honey enters, she sits up.

“Good,” she says simply, tossing the magazine onto Quinn’s bedside table and reaching for her plate. 

Honey withholds it and hands Luke his plate first.

“Why aren’t you fucking?” Honey asks, voice snarky. She’s cutting straight to the point. She’s asking Bea, but she should’ve realized that by handing Luke his plate while she asks the question, he would think that she’s addressing him. He blushes with wide eyes and his gaze falls to the floor. Honey apologizes by reaching up with her now-free hand and ruffling his curls. “Sorry, Lu.”

“What do you mean?” Bea asks, sounding overly innocent. “We’re very busy, Honey. We just needed some sustenance between rounds, didn’t we?”

Her last question is directed at Luke and he replies with a mumble that Honey can’t distinguish. 

Bea finally manages to grab her plate from Honey and Honey sits on the bed with her. Right before she takes a bite of her burger, she explains, “Luke and I aren’t hooking up.”

Honey looks between them. “Why not?”

Luke groans and buries his face in his hands. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It is not,” Bea corrects. “It is perfectly reasonable.”

“What?” Honey demands. She throws her head back and rolls her eyes. “Why does everything have to be so dramatic all the time?”

“Like you’re any better,” Bea chastizes. 

“Zip it,” Honey hisses. 

Bea rolls her eyes. “Luke doesn’t want to compete with his brothers, and when I explained that he wouldn’t be competing with them when he’s with me, he told me I was a liar. To be fair, I was lying, but then as a sign of good will, I told him about the whiteboard. So we’re pretending to fuck for a while and I’ll toss him on the board, pretty high up, and we’ll convince the boys that we are fucking.”

“Seems complicated,” Honey says.

Luke is doing his best to ignore the girls, focusing on his food the same way that his brothers did down by the fire pit. Honey wonders if he and Bea had a conversation about telling her all of this, or if Bea is just talking out of her ass.

“It’s not. He doesn’t want to compete with them, but he doesn’t want them knowing that he’s not fucking me. They’d really chirp him for that.” Bea eats as she speaks, probably picking up the bad habit from the boys.

“They’ll start calling me Viagra or something,” Luke mumbles, the tips of his ears still red. It’s the first full sentence he’s said since Honey came upstairs.

Honey hums, thinking about the situation. She guesses it makes sense– she wouldn’t want to compete against three other guys if she were in Luke’s situation, especially if two of them were his brothers. Plus, sweet Luke has always seemed a little more awkward than his brothers and Bea might just be too much for him.

“Gillian’s granddaughter is coming into town later this month,” Honey says, talking to Luke although he shows no sign that he’s listening. “She just finished her first year at State. Do you want to meet her?”

Silence follows her question for a minute, until Bea laughs a little and Luke looks up. “Oh. Me?” He asks.

“Yeah, you,” Honey says, giggling. She ruffles his curls again. “She’s a sweet girl. A little awkward like you–”

“Hey,” Luke moans, frowning.

“You are,” Bea insists. “But it’s charming, Lukey.”

“– and she’s cute. You’ll like her,” Honey finishes.

Luke pouts. “What if I don’t want to meet her?”

Honey frowns at him. “That would be your decision, but I think it would be a shame if you were celibate all summer, Luke.”

“Like you?” He asks. “Hypocrite.”

Honey smiles tightly. Does he know? She looks at Bea for a split second before turning back to Luke and making eye contact. Carefully, believably, she says, “I’ve had more practice. I don’t think a famous hockey player like you is used to being single and celibate like I am.” She holds Luke’s gaze for a moment longer and he’s the first to look away. 

“Fine,” he agrees, but he sounds put-out. “I’ll meet her. But only because you guys won’t tell the boys about– this.”

Honey nods, happy with the blackmail that they’ve all set up for each other. After all, she and Bea are used to blackmailing each other over worthless, trivial matters so often that it’s become one of their mantras: that blackmail is how you know that you’re really friends.

“I’m going back downstairs,” Honey says. “Have fun… talking, or whatever.”

She leaves the room and joins the group downstairs, answering all their questions with easy lies that paint a scandalous picture upstairs. Jack applauds his younger brother, while Quinn just nods along and rolls his eyes at some of Honey’s more embellished lies. Cole is excited for the younger boy and Trevor says nothing– he just sits there and eats his burger.

It’s infuriating.

Honey is even more infuriated when she realizes that Jack took a few bites out of her burger while she was gone, which leaves her silently stewing until Bea and Luke eventually return. 

The sky grows dark and the stars start to twinkle while the bonfire continues. The smell is lovely and Honey hopes it lingers on her clothes. 

The boys are laughing and joking around, quoting movies and retelling stories from their years together. It was funny at first, and Bea is still laughing perched on Luke’s lap, but a weird feeling washes over Honey. It’s a little nostalgic, but in the sense that she wishes she had been there to experience the stories with the boys. Their childhood was much different from her own, where her most normal friendship was with Bea and her sport was just a way to stay involved in school, something that her parents thought was incredibly important. As the stories continue, she just feels the difference between her childhood and the boys’ life, a chasm that’s growing wider with each story and cackle of laughter.

Unable to bear it any longer, Honey gathers everyone’s plates into a neat stack and heads upstairs to the kitchen. She dumps the plates in the sink and starts to run the water, letting it grow hot. She watches the faucet run for a minute, pooling along the plates and leaving a thin layer of water on the bottom of the stainless steel. When she deems the water hot enough, Honey grabs the sponge and starts washing the dishes.

“Get it together,” she mutters to herself, under her breath. The water runs down her wrists and she grabs a dishtowel from the counter behind her. When she turns back around, there Trevor is. “God, Trevor, I thought I told you to stop following me around.”

“You got quiet,” he says with a shrug. “I wasn’t sure if you had snuck away.”

Honey bites the inside of her cheek. She blinks hard, returning to the dishes. “No, I didn’t leave.”

Trevor shoves his hands in his pockets. “Well, good.” He falls silent and Honey keeps scrubbing the dishes, refusing to break the silence first. Finally, in a very timid voice, Trevor asks, “Are you going to come up to my room later?”

Honey lets the plate slip from her fingers and land with a clatter in the sink. She glares at Trevor, chewing on the skin between her teeth until it aches. He’s silent, having stepped back at the drop of the plate, staring at her. Honey turns off the sink with a huff and rounds the counter. She stalks over to Trevor and grabs him by the collar, pulling him along behind her as she climbs the stairs and drags him to his bedroom. She yanks him into the room and slams the door behind them, kicking it closed with her foot. She releases his collar after planting him in front of her and she crosses her arms over her chest, eyes narrowed and hard.

Trevor just watches her. 

Honey starts to tap her foot. She shrugs, gesturing around the room. “Well, I’m here.”

Trevor’s eyes are wide and his lips are parted. 

“C’mon, Trevor. You told me to come to your room. I’m here. What do you want?” Honey continues, her jaw clenched. 

His eyebrows quirk and his expression shifts from surprise to befuddlement. He takes a step forward, licking his lip before he speaks. “Did I do something wrong?” He asks. “I don’t– is this still about what I said in the car? I really, really didn’t mean that, Honey. I’d never– never do something like that.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls his phone out, shutting it down and holding it out to her. “Here.”

Honey pushes his hand away and squeezes her eyes shut, rubbing harshly over her forehead. “No, it’s not, I’m just–” She cuts herself off, shaking her head. “I’m having a day. That’s all. I don’t know.” She rolls her eyes, feeling smaller, so she hugs herself again and looks away from him.

She misses the concerned tilt of his head and the way he mouths something to himself, maybe a repetition of her own words, because she’s too busy tracing the line of where Trevor’s bedroom walls meet the ceiling.

“Honey,” Trevor says. 

“I know,” she says, closing her eyes briefly before tilting her head back and looking up.

“No, baby,” Trevor continues. He has stepped forward enough that he can reach out to Honey. His fingers are nudging at her elbow and when she doesn’t pull away, he strokes his hand along her arm.

“Don’t call me that,” Honey reminds him. “I’m not your baby.”

“Right.” His hand drops, but he still stands close to Honey. He hesitates, then goes for it anyway. “As I was saying. No, Your Royal Highness, you don’t have to explain yourself.”

Honey finally fixes him with a look, reproachful and annoyed. Doesn’t he understand that she needs to explain herself, compulsively, just so that he doesn’t misunderstand?

Maybe he doesn’t, and that’s the whole reason why he’s still talking.

“Do you want me to take your mind off it?” Trevor asks.

Honey furrows her eyebrows. “Huh?”

Trevor makes a motion like he knows he’s going to regret what he says next. “Another one of my lines. I, uh, wanted you to come up here because I… was… jealous.” He squints at her during those last three words, but she laughs instead of cringing with him.

“Of course you were,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”

Trevor frowns at her, cutting her off. “So I told you to come up to my room so I could stake a claim on you.” He leans in with a little smile. “Remind you who you belong to.”

Honey’s jaw drops open at that with a loud laugh. “You’re kidding. Really?”

“Another line that doesn’t work on you?” Trevor teases. “I’m going to keep trying until I find one that works.”

Honey scoffs. “Good luck.”

“Can I kiss you?” Trevor asks. 

He waits with a silly little smile on his face as she considers it. She hums a little, just delaying her answer as long as she can. Trevor knows that she’ll say yes– she likes kissing and Trevor is the only person that she’s willing to kiss at the moment. 

“Fine, I guess,” Honey says like it’s a chore. 

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Trevor admonishes, but he’s already leaning in. The first touch of their lips is soft, like always, and Trevor smiles into it, like always. He’s so fucking easy and it makes Honey’s stomach flutter. 

She parts her lips against his, letting him lick into her mouth. Honey winds her arms over his shoulders. His hands fit over her hips comfortably and Trevor pulls her closer. 

He kisses eagerly. It’s overwhelming, the way that he wants her. When he has her, he holds her tightly like he’s making sure she won’t pull away until he’s ready to let go. 

That line works, Honey thinks to herself as she kisses him. She considers saying it out loud, but she’s really not interested in admitting that he’s kind-of right, knowing that it’ll make his day, his week, or possibly his whole month. He’ll never stop reminding her if she says it. Plus, it’s too late to respond to his “Can I kiss you?” from minutes ago.

Trevor’s hand distracts her, traveling up her body and underneath her shirt. His thumb sweeps over the skin just under her breast. Honey’s able to keep his lines at bay and stun him silent, but when he gets his hands on her, she feels like putty. His hands are rough against her skin and the sensation tickles Honey, drawing a noise from her throat.

“Pretty,” Trevor murmurs. “Do it again.”

Honey chuckles. “Make me,” she challenges.

Trevor groans at that, walking backwards until he makes contact with his bed. He pulls Honey with him, sitting on the edge of the bed and hauling her onto his lap. He’s petting over her skin, his fingers dancing across the expanse of her ribs before returning to her chest. Trevor palms over one of her breasts while his other hand dips into the back of her shorts. He freezes against her, pulling back slightly to look at her, and Honey bites down on her bottom lip so she doesn’t start to laugh in his face.

“Do you…?” Trevor asks, trailing off. His lips stay pursed in a tiny little ‘o’ and Honey can’t help but smile.

Trevor’s an idiot– Honey’s very fond of that. He’s a jock who likes to talk and flirt, but he’s ultimately at her mercy. She’d secretly been looking forward to this moment, although she’ll never actually admit it. She knew that Trevor would go absolutely boneless when he discovered her piercings.

Instead of replying, Honey just tilts her head to the side and blinks at him. 

Trevor’s calloused thumb slowly starts to scrape against her again, nearing her sensitive areola and the bars that go through her nipples. He groans when he contacts the stainless steel, pushing against her responsive peaks. Thirsty for more, Trevor pinches the hem of her shirt and tugs at it. Honey allows him to draw her shirt over her head. 

Trevor growls at the sight of her bare chest, the sound settling in Honey’s stomach and demolishing the butterflies that had been flying around in there. He abandons her lips to latch onto her breast, running the tip of his tongue over her jewelry and nibbling his way across her chest. 

Honey’s eyelids are fluttering with his movements, her fingers tangling in his hair and using her grip to ground herself. Her head rolls back and her chest presses forward, her hips rocking against his lap.

“Honey,” Trevor moans, cupping her breasts and squeezing them.

“Hm?” She responds.

“You’re so pretty,” he compliments.

Honey’s eyes are locked on his lips, all pink and puffy from kissing all over her. She seals her mouth over his, letting her tongue lick over his, swallowing the moan that rises from his chest. He rocks up against her and Honey sighs at the contact. She rolls her hips down to meet his, feeling more relaxed and lazy with each touch. 

Trevor’s eyelids flutter with each blink, closing briefly at times and recovering rapidly other times. He kisses against her neck, small prints on her skin developing as he sucks, then releases her and moves to the next spot. 

“I want–” Trevor says against her neck, letting his teeth scrape over the curve of her jaw. Honey cuts him off by dipping her head and kissing over his own neck, which leaves him keening beneath her. His hips jerk, jostling Honey on top of him. His hand finds its way completely into her shorts, clutching at her skin and increasing the pressure between the two of them. “Fuck, gonna make me come in my shorts,” he whines. It sounds like a complaint, but he keeps her clothed cunt flush against his bulge and continues to rock forward. 

“You’re worse than Jack,” she bites back, keeping her voice steady although she’s pressing into Trevor. She wants to see him come again, wants to make it happen without using her hands or her mouth. She wants to be able to pull at his hair and kiss his lips and feel him unravel beneath her. 

“Nuh-uh,” Trevor denies. It’s silly and petulant and it makes Honey giggle.

She speeds up, determined to make him fall apart. She bites his neck and he shudders under her teeth. 

“Thought you brought me up here to stake a claim on me,” Honey teases. “But here you are, shivering because there’s a pretty girl sitting on your cock. Seems to me like you’re my bitch, Trev.”

“I’m only letting that slide because I’m about to come,” Trevor grits out, bringing a hand to the back of her neck and rejoining their lips with a clash. 

“Then come,” Honey says. “Nobody’s stopping you.”

“Brat,” Trevor bites out with a venom, stunning Honey for a moment, then making her giggle and double her efforts. 

“That’s right,” she praises, petting his hair out of his face. “So smart, Trevor.”

He ignores her teases and buries his face in her neck, sucking harshly and making her moan. He ruts up, the friction between them delicious and pushing Honey towards her own orgasm, which is just about to crest and bubble over when Trevor breaks first. 

His shorts start to develop a wet patch where the head of his cock rests. Trevor continues to rock against Honey, groaning and nuzzling against her. His cock softens beneath her and Honey wants to whine because she was so close and he bit the bullet. He’s still nipping at her neck, making his way up to her lips, but she doesn’t let him find his mark. 

Honey climbs off of him, but Trevor keeps his arm around her waist and pulls her back down onto the bed. He rolls into her space, covering her with his body and kissing over her face. “Where are you going?” He asks. “Stay with me tonight.”

Honey pushes his face away and glares at him. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Trevor whines, letting one of his hands find her boobs again. He toys with her nipples until she’s squirming. “I want to make you come. Then we can cuddle all night long and go again in the morning.”

Honey rolls her eyes. He says it like the most enticing thing in the world is hanging out together and hooking up, but it’s not. She’s annoyed that she didn’t get to come and he did, so she just wants to go home. She wiggles out of his grasp and slinks off the bed, finding her shirt on the ground and pulling it over her head. “I’m okay. I can make myself come, thanks.”

“Honey,” Trevor complains, drawing her name out and standing to follow after her. 

Her hand is on the doorknob when she turns to face him, looking him up and down. “Trevor, I promise you don’t want to follow me with that wet spot on your shorts.”

He stops. He looks down. Then, he cringes and adjusts himself over his shorts, folding his hands over the patch of cum and blushing.

Honey’s hair, now a little looser in its bun, whips around as she leaves. She sneaks out of the house easily, hearing laughter ringing in the backyard as she goes. The sky is dark and the drive home is quick, with Honey speeding around the curves of the mountain the way that only a practiced Litchton resident can. 

She slams each door that she encounters when she passes through it, stomping up to her lofted bedroom and crashing onto her bed. She doesn’t even want to come anymore, too annoyed with Trevor to give into the gnawing tension in her stomach. Plus, she’s still on her period. She doesn’t feel like going to get a towel to lay on, even though it’ll keep her sheets clean. Also, she’s still feeling weird after the boys’ childhood stories around the bonfire. If there’s anything Honey hates, anything that can ruin her mood, it’s feeling like she’s out of place.

She’ll just go to bed instead of dwelling on it, she decides, and closes her eyes. She falls asleep right there in her clothes and she won’t wake until Bea breaks in the following morning to gather up her whiteboard and expo markers.

35:90 – TREVOR

Trevor wakes to a loud bang, like someone is smashing into his bedroom door. He scrambles up and gathers the covers against his chest, cowering in the corner of his bed as the same noise sounds again. 

“Maybe try the knob,” Bea suggests sarcastically. “I mean, come on, Cole. It’s not like he locked it.”

The knob jiggles and Trevor quickly drops the covers to his lap to make a lump that hides his morning wood– he’s lucky Honey didn’t stay like he asked her to, especially since she doesn’t want anyone to find out. 

Cole crashes into his room, looking disappointed that there’s nothing scandalous taking place in Trevor’s room. Bea stands behind him, arms crossed over her chest. 

“I expect you to be downstairs in no more than five minutes,” Bea announces. “I have a special presentation and it requires your presence.”

Trevor rubs his eyes with a fist and yawns. “Noted.”

“Get a move on,” she tells him, then beckons Cole and they leave. They don’t close his door, to Trevor’s annoyance. He can hear them moving down the hall to Jack’s room, where Cole begins the same routine of barging against Jack’s door until Bea tells him to check the knob. 

Trevor thinks that he wants to knock the door down in front of Bea as a feat of strength, but he just doesn’t have the momentum or body mass to do so.

Trevor grumbles as he crawls out of bed, digging for a shirt after applying his deodorant. He scrubs over his face again, evaluating himself in the mirror. He needs to shave whenever Bea is done with her special presentation. 

He comes down the stairs a few minutes later, teeth freshly brushed and hair combed. He delayed as long as he could, but he knows Bea will come looking for him if he doesn’t make his way downstairs.

He’s the last to make it to the living room, where Bea is standing on the raised edge of the fireplace, next to an easel that holds a board, hidden beneath a fitted sheet that she probably pulled out of the laundry. There are no seats left for him– Cole is reclining back in the La-Z-Boy and the Hughes brothers are squished together on the couch. Glowering between Quinn and Jack is the object of Trevor’s affection, a Honey that’s still clinging to sleep and wearing the skimpiest pajamas known to man, a tiny white tank top with the thinnest spaghetti straps Trevor has ever seen and old boxers that are rolled at the waistband to fit her hips.

And ratty old slippers that look like cows.

If this is how she looks when she rolls out of bed in the morning, Trevor’s got a pretty good life ahead of him.

Then, he realizes what he just thought and shakes himself out of it. Life? he asks himself. You’re still not sure if she’ll let you kiss her again, moron.

“Now that you’re finally here, Trevor,” Bea says pointedly, frowning at him. “My presentation can begin.”

She whips the blanket off of the easel just as Honey yawns and lets her head fall on Jack’s shoulder, so Trevor misses the reveal of Bea’s whiteboard. He’s too busy watching how Honey smacks her lips lazily after she yawns. When Trevor does turn to look at the board, he’s assaulted by large, bright block letters that read: “Bea’s Definitive Favorite Boy!”

Bea is grinning wide, running her hands over the edges of the board like a game show host presenting a new car.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Trevor complains, rolling his eyes. “This is what you woke me up for?”

He could’ve been asleep in bed for another hour. Hell, he doesn’t understand why Bea had to do this first thing in the morning when she could’ve just come over after her normal church trip. He also doesn’t understand why he has to be here– he and Bea are barely friends. The only thing they have in common is Honey and the only thing Trevor has that the other boys don’t– when it comes to Bea– is her phone number.

Bea’s smile drops. So do her hands, landing limp by her sides. She frowns. 

“Shut up, Zegras,” Quinn snaps. It’s nothing new for him to make Quinn mad, so his reaction doesn’t faze Trevor. What does faze Trevor is the reaction of the girl next to him.

“That’s not very nice, Trevor,” Honey murmurs quietly, still sleepy. She’s cuddled up against Jack’s arm now, head still on his shoulder, and her eyelids are drooping. 

“Yeah,” Cole agrees. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Go on, Bea, I want to know why I’m an 8.0.”

Trevor finally looks at the list and the ratings, having only gotten as far as the title before he had to say something.

Each name is written in black marker, but their numbers are in an array of colors. Bea has even used her markers to draw little symbols next to each person’s name: a heart next to Quinn’s, a star next to Cole’s, a flower with Luke’s, and a little candy next to Jack.

Quinn - 9.4

Cole - 8.0

Luke - 6.9

Jack - 6.6

“I’m not even on the list,” Trevor grumbles, then falls quiet. He does it for Honey’s sake, really, reading through the lines of her statement a moment ago and understanding the unspoken command to shut up. He just had to get one final comment in to express his distaste for being awoken for something so trivial. 

Bea makes a face at him, angry and frustrated with his reaction to her board, then she gestures to the board. “I can’t tell you why you’re an eight,” she says to Cole. “Because I can’t tell you what my points system is. I want to see how long it takes for you guys to figure it out.”

“So it’s not just general points?” Jack asks.

“Wondering how you can get a higher spot on the ranking?” Honey teases, her tone setting off a bomb in Trevor’s stomach. She can’t just talk to Jack like that– she’s only ever supposed to softly tease him, take the piss out of him. Not Jack.

“You’ll just have to be extra good this week,” Bea reveals to Jack like it was some great secret. 

Obviously, that’s how you grow in the ranks, Trevor thinks. You’re not going to get anywhere by being on bad behavior, Jack.

“So what, you’re going to update the board weekly?” Quinn asks, a little smile on his face as Bea turns her attention to him. 

“Whenever I need to,” Bea replies, widening her eyes like she’s flashing them at the boy. Trevor notices that the lines on her face fade a bit when she talks to Quinn and that her shoulders relax. 

“Yeah, Quinn, so your first place isn’t safe,” Cole baits, sticking his tongue out at the boy.

“I think I’ll be okay,” Quinn replies, leaning back into the couch cushions. He places his arm over the back of the couch, practically encircling Honey’s shoulders. Trevor wishes that they were on the ice so that he could trip the boy– and, ideally, get away with it. 

“So you really won’t tell us how we can improve,” Luke says, really just clarifying and making sure. 

Bea thinks on it for a second and looks to Honey, who shakes her head and draws herself up to a position where she’s sitting on her own. She stretches her arms out in front of her with another yawn, then covers her mouth and speaks through the intake of air. “It’s more fun this way. Half the brilliance of the board is that you have no idea and Bea and I do.”

“I’ll give y’all one pass, though,” Bea says. “First boy to be ready for church gets a point-one added to his score.”

Jack is the first person up, shaking the couch. Luke races after him, not wanting his score to drop below Jack’s. Cole and Quinn are much more relaxed about the incentive, meandering up the stairs. Trevor doesn’t move an inch.

“No church for you today, Trev?” Bea asks.

“I don’t see how it benefits me. I’m not on the list,” Trevor replies.

Bea stops what she’s doing– gathering her markers– and faces him. She looks to Honey, then back to Trevor. “Trevor, dear,” she starts sweetly, although Trevor understands that her sweetness is dripping with poison. “You’re not on the list because I’m not having sex with you. I have no interest in speculating about how good you are in bed and I don’t believe anything that Honey’s told me about your abilities. You’re a nuisance and I hope you get a charley horse cramp next time you’re on the ice.”

She picks up her whiteboard and walks away, going down into the basement. 

Honey stretches out on the couch again, cracking her knuckles. 

“You talk about me?” Trevor asks, hoping that Honey will play along and ignore everything else Bea said.

“Well, I’m going to talk about how rude you are with Bea after she gets back from church,” Honey replies snarkily. “Honestly, Trevor, do you have to be a douche?”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Trevor defends himself. 

“You were a jerk and for what?” Honey demands, seeming very awake now. “Because we woke you up? I got woken up too, Trevor, and I had to come all the way over here from my house. You got to walk down some stairs and you have the nerve to complain more than I do?”

Trevor is surprised by her sharp words, taking a step back. “Sorry,” he mumbles. 

“‘Sorry,’” Honey repeats, mocking him. “God, Trevor. You really do piss me off sometimes.” She stands from the couch, which draws Trevor’s eyes. Her tank top has ridden up, revealing a little sliver of skin that he wants to bite. He takes in her nipples, which he can see through her top, and he’s surprised that he never noticed the piercings before. They’re obvious. His eyes come up to her collarbones, and her neck–

Covered in little bite marks.

Trevor grins, staring at her.

Honey’s eyebrows tilt down and her expression grows perturbed, suspicious of him. “What are you smiling at?”

“Look in a mirror lately?” Trevor asks, bringing his hand up and gesturing at his neck, pointing out spots that mirror the location of the hickeys he left on Honey’s body. “Surprised you came over here in so little. I would’ve expected you to wear a scarf, since you don’t want anyone knowing about us.”

“What?” Honey asks, reaching up to feel over her neck like the bruised skin is raised. She goes to the hallway, craning her head to the side and examining her skin in the mirror. 

Trevor goes to stand behind her, still at a distance, and Honey’s eyes meet his in the reflection. She looks downright murderous.

“This is all your fault,” she hisses, whirling around and stomping up to him just so that she can push his chest and make him stumble backwards into the wall. 

“At least you look good in purple,” Trevor says with a cheshire-like smile on his face. He means the compliment earnestly, even though Honey is angry with him and already making her way to the front door.

“You– fuck off, Trevor,” is the last thing she says before wrenching the door open and slamming it behind her.

Trevor can’t help himself– he’s pulling out his phone and using her number for the first time since she yelled at him for texting her at work. He types out a quick little message, one that he knows Honey will hate and probably pretend like she never received, but now he’s got two thoughts running through his mind: one, that Honey does look very good in purple, and two, that she talks to Bea about him. And his abilities.

He sends a picture of his own neck, a big purple bruise that he noticed before he walked downstairs, right at the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. “It’s a group effort & I’m glad you’re my partner ;)” is the final draft of the text, sent without a second thought. 

Of course she’ll never reply to him, but Trevor is satisfied with the fact that she’ll have to walk around for the next couple of days knowing that he marked her up and only time will help those marks fade.

[ghoul-bonez]

~You Know What it is to Mourn~

(Sully Family x Fem! Reader)

Summary: Your life had been through a few drastic changes recently, but it was okay because you were all together. Now that you weren’t you found yourself struggling.

Word count: 2.5k

Author’s note: A Lover, Not a Fighter PART 4!!! Final part enjoy! (Or don’t because heavy on the angst) I was gonna wait until Monday to post this but might as well get it done today, so very early post!

Warnings: Loss of a loved one, child loss, depression

Last - Next

~Series Masterlist~

~Main Masterlist~

You Know What it is to Mourn

You could think of many times you had considered your life had been turned upside down, most of them being more recent than not, but you had all been so wrong every time. Now your life has been flipped on its head.

The first time you could remember feeling your life had been flipped upside down was longer ago, when you fell for Neytiri. It wasn’t necessarily falling for her, you had always been hopelessly in love with her, but it was when you admitted to yourself you loved her. She had been your whole world as long back as you could remember. She meant everything to you.

Then you had not just admitted it to yourself, but also her, and she loved you too. You began to court each other, and were free to show your love as much as you wanted, as publicly as you wanted. You were free from holding yourself in, and could truly be yourself with Neytiri, no longer having to hold in your emotions. She would give you anything you wanted, but all you wanted was her love.

Then there was Jake. When he had come around you were hesitant to talk to him, more so to be around him because you couldn’t talk to him. You may not have spoken the same language, but over time you grew close by your love for Neytiri. Then much like you love Neytiri, you love him, but you were conflicted by him being a sky person. Neytiri loved him though, so you allowed yourself to as well.

Neteyam was a surprise, but a welcome one. He had thrown you head first into parenthood, and you were glad it was him and not Lo’ak looking back on it. He was an amazing baby, perfect perhaps. He never cried, never fussed. Even as a toddler he never threw temper tantrums. He was your shining star. Your mighty warrior who was meant for great things, meant to succeed.

Kiri and Lo’ak were the middle children, but came soon after Neteyam, quickly turning your small family of four into a large family of six. It was a lot to handle, but you wouldn’t trade them for the world. They were like two peas in a pod, and many people wouldn’t see the similarities between them, but you could. They both wanted to live up to their parents, but were cold in their shadows. You wouldn’t let them stay there though.

Your last child was your only biological one, Tuk. You loved all of your children equally, but Tuk would always be a little different. She had quickly become your sun, you revolving around her. She was young, hadn’t yet seen how cruel the outside world was, the world outside your family, and you wanted nothing more than to keep her happy and safe.

You had thought Quaritch’s first attack on your children was the day your life was really flipped upside down, even over all of the flips and turns before. You had hoped it couldn’t get worse, but life isn’t meant to be perfect. It’s meant to be messy, but in the end everything would be okay.

You were ready to deal with Quaritch, to fight him and his squad to keep your family safe, but you had planned on doing it at home. Moving to Awa’atlu was overwhelming for everyone, uprooting and starting a new life. You had eventually learned to live how you were now, and you were happy once more.

And now as you look back on it it all seems so insignificant. Now you know what it means for your life to truly be flipped upside down. Your world shattered, your life wasting away.

When the sky people attacked once again you knew it was serious. Not only you had been wrapped up in the web of violence but now the Metkayina people were too. The sky people had come after them, but the end goal was you, your family, Jake.

There was no time to hesitate, no time to flail in panic, and you were a lover, not a fighter, so you had decided to stay home while Jake and Neytiri went to fight. You wanted to fight, to keep the ones you love safe, but that wasn’t realistic.

Instead your plan was to stay and help head the healers, put in charge by Ronal, who had finally allowed you to help her with her duties after an elder healer retired. You would heal the warriors who came back throughout the battle as they fell back.

It was safe, it was something you could do, something you knew how to do. So you stayed behind, and did your job, helping people as they came back.

You waited, head shooting up from your work anytime someone new would come back, hoping that each person would be a member of your family.

You were jumpy, so when you heard people calling out that your family was in sight you rushed to the beach, the waves of the ocean being warped by your feet that stood on the edge between the sand and the sea. You tried to calm yourself, to be stable for your children who had just been shown the true violence of war.

You felt your heart rate rise as you waited and when you saw your kids swimming back on ilus you couldn’t help but to cry. They were safe, they were okay.

Lo’ak reached you first and you pulled him in, inspecting him and searching for serious wounds, but there were none, he was only covered in small scratches and scrapes. He may have been okay physically, but he was wounded in his heart, tear stains on his face, and you pulled him into a tight hug.

“You’re okay…” You sighed.

“I’m okay, mama.” He muttered, like he was confirming it for himself as well.

Then tuk shouted out, “Mama!” Running to you and throwing herself at you.

Kiri was close behind her, and you checked them over just like you had Lo’ak. Kiri was the least injured, and Tuk had what looked like rope burns around her wrists, like she had been fighting against restraints. Seeing them like this broke your heart.

They were okay, but they both had tears just like their brother, they must have been so scared, so hurt. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how they were feeling, you didn’t want to know, but you wanted to help them heal, so you would have to know. Not right now though. For now you looked for the child that was missing, the last child, your first child.

You waited for a second, holding your breath and looking to the horizon waiting for Neteyam to come into sight, but he wasn’t coming. You felt your heart rise to your throat, you knew something was wrong, but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself.

Where was Neteyam?

You couldn’t wait anymore, “Where is your brother?” You asked Kiri. She couldn’t answer that, she couldn't tell you, and so she stayed silent, leaving someone else to answer.

When Tuk started crying your heart stopped. What had happened? You couldn’t stop your heart from speeding up as you looked to Lo’ak for an answer.

He was hesitant, “He’s with mom and dad…” he trailed off.

You were relieved to hear that, but you knew deep down that what Lo’ak was telling you wasn’t the truth. Not the whole truth, but you chose to ignore that, he was okay, just with your mates. Everyone was okay.

So you waited, and waited, and waited. You waited for what felt like a million years but was more like a few minutes until you saw Jake and Neytiri on the horizon. Neytiri was on an ilu instead of her ikran, which was odd, your first clue that something was wrong. The second clue that something was wrong was that Neteyam wasn’t next to them. You couldn’t see three people, only two.

Then they got close enough and you saw Neteyam, limp in Jake’s arms as the tsurak he was on swam towards you. Something was very wrong, Neteyam was knocked out, there were so many problems that ran through your mind.

Lo’ak could tell you were worried, shocked, so he grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly. It brought a moment of calm, but it didn’t keep your worries away for long, it couldn't keep your worries away.

Neytiri noticed you on the shoreline, exchanging a look with Jake, before speeding up and meeting you there. She ran into your arms, and when she noticed tears in your eyes she couldn’t help but let her tears fall again, sobbing openly in your arms.

You stood there holding her, and rubbing circles on her back. You told yourself you had to be strong right now, for her, for the children, but when you made eye contact with Jake you couldn’t help but break. He looked so broken, and he had always been a little broken, you could see it in his eyes anytime you looked at him, but now it was far more visible than ever before.

You wanted so badly to run to Jake and take Neteyam from his arms, to heal him from any wounds the world had given him, but something stopped you.

Fear. Fear was stopping you.

You feared what you would find if you got too close. You feared how broken you would feel when you saw the injury that had Neteyam laying limp in his dad’s arms. You feared not being able to heal him.

What you didn’t know was you wouldn’t have to heal him, wouldn’t be able to heal him.

That became apparent when Jake carefully dismounted the tsurak, trudging through the water towards you, and you could see no breath in Neteyam’s chest. There was no movement. No movement anywhere, and as Neteyam was still the rest of the world around you went still as well.

You couldn’t help the sob that ripped through you as you crumbled to your knees. You didn’t even need to touch him, to feel him void of a heartbeat, to know he was gone.

You screamed and sobbed as Neytiri held you in her arms, the roles reversed from earlier, now she was being strong for you.

Jake stopped in front of you, falling to his knees and allowing you to fully see your son. His eyes were closed, which was a relief to you as you couldn’t see the life void from them. His skin was pale and cold as you held his hand in yours. Your eyes looked over his body looking for the cause of his death, and when they found the bullet hole your heart sank.

You knew the truth, but ignored it, somehow holding onto hope that he was just passed out, not dead, just asleep. You ignored the fact that an injury of that severity was definitely fatal, and you didn’t know how long it had been since he sustained it. You ignored the stiffness and cold of his fingers. You ignored the way Jake held him like he hadn’t in years, cradling him in his arms like a baby. You ignored the way Neytiri couldn’t look at you, not having to form tsaheylu to feel your pain. You ignored the way your children were practically shaking next to you, feeling as if you should have been there when he had passed, not them.

You couldn’t help it as your head fell to his chest, your ear laying flat against it. You couldn’t focus on trying desperately to hear his heartbeat over the coldness and clamminess of his dull skin. When you stilled yourself, your body and racing mind, and heard no heartbeat your world crashed down around you.

He was gone, and there was no way you could bring him back, no matter how hard you tried he would forever be gone. Forever.

You couldn’t believe he was gone, even after confirming it yourself. You denied him being gone, he wasn’t gone, he was just away. You denied it when your partners would ask you how you were doing, implying that he was gone. You denied it when your children would come to you for comfort. You knew they missed him, you knew they were suffering, grieving like you, but he wasn’t gone so why would you need to comfort them?

Then eventually after him being absent long enough, missing mealtimes, gatherings, and family meetings, you grew angry. How could he leave you? How could he leave your partners, his other parents? How could he leave his siblings? He had hurt you, and everyone else who loved him, and you were furious. He could have held on a little longer, he could have tried to live a little longer. Just long enough to get home, to get to you. You could have healed him, brought him back to the safety of life, and if you couldn’t heal him he could have at least waited so you could say goodbye.

Once you realized it wasn’t his choice to leave you couldn’t be angry anymore. Then you began bargaining, with whoever you could. You bargained with Neytiri to take you to the Spirit Tree, to see him one last time, but she denied you, not believing you were ready. You bargained with Jake to just hold you, and to talk to you, but he denied you too, he was grieving on his own, still in the beginning stages of anger. You bargained with Lo’ak to tell you what his final moments were like, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell his mama.

Depression overcame you quickly and smoothly. It was like the ocean swallowing the beach as the tide rose, and it came in waves, some days benign better than others. On the better days you could get out of your home, help Ronal and the other healers with tasks around the clan. On the worst days you couldn’t even find the strength to get out of bed. You would lay there all day, depending on your partners, who were also grieving themselves, to help you function. You hated to see your depression rubbing off on your children, and you hoped it wasn’t you specifically. Instead you hoped it was them going through the same stages as you, but you couldn’t help but worry when little Tuk would lay with you and cry all day.

You had cried, and cried, and cried some more, but eventually the tears dried up. Your feelings didn’t subside, but they became easier to deal with. The dark, threatening, storm cloud of depression rained all it had to rain and moved away with the breeze. You accepted he was gone, and how that made you feel, and you were okay with that. You were finally feeling okay.

You know what it is to mourn, but now you can move on, not from loving him, but from the pain of him being gone. Neteyam was gone, but within you, and the Great Mother, he will live forever.

Word Bank:

Metkayina (Ocean Na’vi)

Ilu (Main Metkayina transportation)

Ikran (Mountain Banshee)

Tsurak (Skimwing)

Tsaheylu (The Bond)

Spirit Tree (Metkayina sacred tree)

@im-in-a-pansexual-panik - @ducks118 - @ssc7514 - @sully-stick-together - @gg-trini

[the-fiction-witch]

Little Vampire

Media The Artful Dodger (Pre Show Release)

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating SMUT

I sat on the top step as I waited eagerly, I tapped my boots against the wooden stair. I heard the clutter, clatter with the overhung chatter of people as they left having paid their coins, drunk their wine and watched a man lose a liver. And would now head home weary, woozy, and weirdly excited to their beds beside their wives. The Man in question, now a liver-short was ushered away by the paying family with a mix of emotions, joy from their loved one receiving such life-changing treatments, the sickness of having to watch it, and the fear of knowing both the hard road ahead for him of recovery and of course the Bill that would be dropping on their doorstep Monday morning. The last to leave was the town nurse who was often on hand to help with such business she left the office took her coat and hurried away out the door.

And that was my cue.

I scampered down the stairwell into the office and shut the large doors behind me, immediately the smell hit my nose of fresh blood.

The seats now sat empty, the table empty too, blood across the floor and even the wall. Amongst it all a weary Jack in his usual garb having just thrown his apron to the side to later briefly clean, his sleeves rolled up high his hands and forearms coated with dry and wet blood which he did attempt to dap off with a dirty rag which merely just seemed to move the dirt and bodily fluids around more. Even if he had worn the apron blood had still gotten to his clothes and he now stood tinkering about the room sorting his tools and such where he had moved them in his rushed work and how finally had the time to clean them off and return them to their proper places.

"How'd it go?" I asked

Momentarily he jumped "Oh fo- Y/n." He sighed

"What?" I giggled

"I- I bloody knew you'd be down here," He said before continuing with his work

"How'd you know?"

"Because you always find your way down here when I'm done working. I swear you have a sixth sense for when I've just finished sewing someone up," he said

"I like coming to visit when you're done with your work," I giggled as I fiddled with my fingers

"Ummm" he glared "Sure you do."

"I can't help it. I just like coming to visit," I giggled, I closed the gap between us and wrapped my arms around him letting my head on his back

"That's very sweet y/n." he said as he tapped my hands "What did you want then?"

I smiled and tugged him around to face me, as soon as he was faced with me I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss he happily kissed back as he settled his hands on my waist my hands slowly moved up finding their way into his roots and twisted my fingers into his hair and in response, he eagerly pulled my waist closer until our chest's where pressed against one another. Till we both pulled back for a breath.

"So? What did you want?"

"What do you think I want Doctor," I smiled as I took the tie around his neck in my hand and pulled it hard to drag his nose to my own and I kissed his nose, then down his jaw, and his neck nibbling and kissing.

"I swear you're a vampire." He chuckled playing with my hair

"Why?" I giggled and pressed my chest to his a little harder as I kissed

"You always show up as soon as I'm done with work like you've got a sixth sense, you always get so cuddly when I've been working, and you do this. You burrow yourself into my neck like you're trying to bite me!" he chuckled playfully and shifted his hips against my own

"Maybe I am a vampire," I giggled as I left a hickey on his neck

"Ahh! You evil little thing!"

"Evil?!" I pouted "That's not very nice Jack."

"You bit me!"

"Hummm that's not very nice," I whined as I pushed my bottom lip out

"If you're going to be a little vampire I'm allowed to tell you off for it" he smirked and rubbed his nose on mine

"Aren't you meant to be nice to me?"

"I think I'm being very nice, Shouldn't you be nice to me?"

"Alright." I smirked and tapped his nose playfully "I'll be nice. Maybe this way you won't be complaining when a part of you sits snuggly between my teeth," I smirked as I moved to my knees on the still bloody floor I made short work of his trousers and gently stroked his shaft with my hand as he leant against the desk leant his arms back excitedly

"So long as you don't bite my little vampire," he smirked

"No promises," I smirked as I took his shaft into my mouth and made sure to kitten lick my tongue across his head, he threw his head back and his jaw fell loose, his fingers gripped the edge of the desk hard as his lustful moans cascaded from his lips

"Ughhhhh- Uuuuuhhh - Ohhh fuck-" He groaned

I made sure to suck and lick knowing his needs by the sounds he forced out even made a point to grace my teeth against his shaft to toy with him until he grabbed the fabric of my dress at my shoulder and pushed me back so his shaft left my mouth and he tugged me back to my feet.

"Yes?" I giggled

"Upstairs? Or would you rather we just make a mess of my office?" He smirked

"It's messy enough" I smirked grabbed the tie around his neck tugged him aggressively as I backed towards the surgery table

"Ummm Alright my little Vampire" he growled 

[ssinnerplazahotel]

╭──────────.★..─╮

*Chapter Thirteen*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC: 6k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s, death threat, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Masterlist: Prologue, Ch. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

You woke with a start the next morning—not even realizing that you’d fallen asleep at some point throughout the night. You checked the time—Liz would be there by now.

“You’re awake,” Andrea said, appearing from the bathroom. “I thought I’d let you sleep. Since you never do.”

“I’m supposed to be dressed by now,” You said. “Liz is probably waiting for me.”

“You aren’t scheduled to be anywhere, are you?”

“No, why?”

“Why don’t you skip Liz today? I can give you something to wear.”

You didn’t even consider it. “I can’t.”

She tilted her head. “Why?”

“Because…” You knew it’d only piss her off to know the reason. “I like the clothes Liz chooses.”

She shrugged. “You should head over then. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Come with me.”

“Why?”

“Because, he might not yell at me if you’re there.”

She rolled her eyes, but agreed to go. “He can yell. I want him to actually. Because if I have to deal with him~”

“You won’t have to. I don’t want you to fight him all the time, Andrea.”

“I do it because you won’t.”

“I know, but I can’t protect you. So I’d like it if you didn’t give me a reason to.”

“Do you think I need you to protect me?”

“No, of course not. Just don’t pick a fight.”

When you got to the bedroom Elvis was there with Liz and Serena. Aside from a brief glance, he didn’t acknowledge you when you walked in. You could always tell when he was on the brink of losing his shit.

“I’m so sorry, Liz,” You said immediately. “I had no idea what time it was.”

“It’s okay,” She said. “We already got everything ready for you.”

“This is gorgeous,” Andrea complimented as she looked at the dress laid out on the bed. “With the headband especially.”

“Oh, I wanted to let you know that the things you sent to the cleaners won’t be back until Monday,” Serena started as Andrea and Liz talked about your outfit. Liz spoke to Andrea more comfortably, you noticed. “I tried to get it back sooner but it’s been so busy because of the holidays.”

“It’s okay,” You reassured her. “I won’t even miss them.”

“Where’d you find the shoes?”

“Uhm, they were actually a wedding gift~”

Elvis stood from the edge of the bed suddenly, effectively ending every conversation happening in the room. “Liz, go show Andrea that thing you wanted to show her. You too, Serena.”

You met Andrea’s eyes—she gave you a look that said she’d stay if you wanted. You shook your head.

“Go ahead,” Elvis encouraged, walking over to open the door. “Shouldn’t take but five minutes. Come back when you’re done.”

Liz nodded and led the way out of the room, Serena following silently behind. Andrea stayed in place, crossing her arms with her eyes set on Elvis. You tried to motion for her to go but she wouldn’t look out at you.

“Andrea,” Elvis sighed.

He was too close to his breaking point and you didn’t want Andrea to be the recipient of his rage.

“Drea, it’s fine.” You stepped forward.

“I’m not leaving her alone with you,” She said directly to Elvis. “Can’t you see that she’s afraid of you?”

“N-No, no,” You said quickly, stepping between them. “Please don’t~”

Elvis snapped. “I’m so fucking sick of you acting like you know her any better than I do~”

“I wouldn’t have to know her at all to see that she’s terrified of you,” Andrea said with an equal amount of anger and distaste behind her words as she stepped towards him. “You’re a control freak.”

“If she’s so terrified, she can leave and take you with her.”

“As if you’d ever let her go.”

“She wouldn’t, Andrea, that’s the thing~”

“Do you see what I mean? You’re a fanatic.”

“You wouldn’t even be here if I didn’t hunt you down for weeks, that’s the kind of friend you are.”

“At least I treat her like a fully functioning adult. The way you run her, I can’t tell if you want a wife or pet.”

“What did your ex-husband want? It wasn’t you—that’s what we all know.”

“You trap one little girl and you think you know how to get and keep a woman?”

“I don’t have to trap anyone, she can fucking leave!”

You were frozen as their screaming match intensified with every dig. Elvis stepped forward until your hands pressed against his chest and the two of them were face to face. You had to force yourself to speak.

“Stop,” You said, too breathlessly and quiet at first. You had to shout over them. “Stop it!”

They fell silent and looked at you, both fuming as you stopped them from taking things too far.

“You’re gonna let her talk to me like that?” Elvis asked, forcing you into a position you never wanted to be in.

“Andrea,” You said, walking to the door. “Can you, please…?”

She heaved a sigh and walked out of the door but stopped short and gave you one last questioning glance. You nodded reassuringly despite the fact that you were so on edge that you could have thrown up.

You shut the door behind her and faced him, he had his arms crossed. You expected him to immediately snap and dig into you, but instead he asked—

“What the hell are you wearing?”

You looked down at the pajama pants and mismatched shirt you had fallen asleep in.

“Andrea gave them to me…”

His expression was furious but you could somehow still see the traces of a distasteful frown. He eyed you silently, watching you squirm in anticipation.

“You look fucking ridiculous.”

He could’ve thrown you across the room and it would’ve hurt less—been less humiliating.

He looked away as if he couldn’t stand the sight of you. “Get dressed before Liz gets back.”

You stood there for a moment before walking over to the dress laid out on the bed. You picked it up to take to the bathroom but he stopped you.

“We’re not done yet.”

You felt ashamed and embarrassed of yourself—you wanted to disappear as he watched you strip.

“Where the hell did you go last night?” He continued. “I sent Red all around the world lookin for you and he said you weren’t with Andrea.”

“I was with Andrea~”

“Do not lie to me right now~”

“I swear.”

“Then why weren’t you there?”

“I was, s-she…lied. I-I don’t know why. It was a joke. I told her~ I said that it wasn’t funny.”

“But you didn’t come to me when I asked you to?”

“I-I just…”

“You just…let her make up your mind for you like a little girl? You just go along with whatever she says? Because you just…can’t make your own decisions?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Tell me what it is. I mean, you act just about dumb as hell when it comes to Andrea, it has to be something.”

“What is your problem?” You didn’t wait for him to answer as you stormed into the bathroom to finish putting your clothes on.

“My problem is that I at least expected you to be in place this morning. Instead you come galavanting in here with Andrea like you didn’t disappear all night.” He followed you.

“I don’t understand why you’re blowing this so out of proportion.”

“Because you need to be reminded of your place. It’s here, with me, when I tell you to be.”

“Go to hell, Elvis.”

“Hey,” He barked, fuming as he caught your arm and made you face him. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”

“And you don’t get to treat me like some useless accessory you get to stick your dick in whenever you want to.” You snatched your arm away. “I mean, for the love of god. Calling me dumb and demanding my respect?”

“Do not talk to me like that.” His stern eyes bore into you even after you looked away. “You will lose, every time, I promise.”

There was a knock on the door—it was Liz.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut,” Elvis said before going to get the door. You tried to put on a neutral expression as Liz and Serena entered the room. “She’s all ready for you.”

You smiled—it was forced but you didn’t think they noticed. He returned when your transformation was complete.

“What’s on the agenda for today, Mr. Presley?” Serena, who had also just returned after slipping out somewhere along the way, asked as Liz finished your hair.

Elvis slipped his arm around Serena’s shoulder and kissed her cheek before continuing. You usually wouldn’t think much of it—but seeing how her hand lingered on his, you couldn’t help but wonder. After the thought crossed your mind it was all you could think about. After they had left the room you couldn’t help yourself, you had to know.

“You’re fucking Serena.”

He fell silent, you were shocked by how stunned he seemed by your knowledge of his situation with your “assistant”—or whatever title he’d given her. His reaction stirred something inside of you. You were angry, and hurt, but you were right. For once, you were right and he couldn’t even process your words fast enough to deny it.

“What?” You asked. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“Shut up.” His voice was low and unnerving, but you continued.

“People notice you, Elvis. They watch every little thing you do. When are you going to realize that?”

“I’m telling you right now, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised, you’ve always been that way. You’re a liar and you’re a cheater~”

“Shut up!” He was yelling now but his voice was muffled by the sound of your heart beating in your ears. “Do you really think you have any right to question me or anything I do? After everything I’ve done for you?”

“I never asked for any of this, Elvis. I’m here for you!”

“This is me,” He shouted, gesturing grandly with his arms. With each step he took forward, you stepped back until the back of your legs touched the bed—forcing you to sit as he towered over you. “To hear you so much as utter a complaint after everything I’ve risked for us, everything I’m sacrificing—it’s fucking ludicrous.”

You fell silent for a moment, too frightened to speak. “You said that it would be different this time—no more bullshit, remember? No more fighting, that’s what you said out of your mouth~”

“Whose fault is it that we’re fighting, huh?”

You kept your eyes trained on him but you didn’t speak—you only glared silently.

“You have two options,” He said. “You can either get your shit together, go downstairs with Andrea, and keep your mouth shut so we can enjoy the party. Or you can stay here, out of my sight, for the rest of the night. Pick one. Now or I’ll decide for you.”

You stood and forced past him to the bathroom. You made sure your makeup wasn’t ruined before leaving. As you made to walk past him and out of the door he grabbed your arm, forcing your hand into his.

“Don’t embarrass me in front of my family, they already think I’m insane,” He said, and then you were leaving. The commotion from downstairs could be heard clear as day from the top of the stairs. “You just stick with Andrea tonight. No one here’s gonna bother you, I told them not to.”

You kept your lips pressed firmly together as you met Andrea at the bottom of the stairs. All eyes were on the two of you when you entered the room—you hoped the forced smile on your face was fooling the crowd.

Andrea didn’t acknowledge Elvis but she forced a smile all the same. “Are you okay?”

“Keep an eye on her,” He said, handing you off. “She’s in a mood.”

You forced yourself not to pull away when he kissed your cheek—smiling as he tapped your chin and walked away.

“What’s wrong?” Andrea asked when he was gone. “What’d he do?”

“Did they give them to you?”

“Yeah.”

You took the envelope and turned to go into the kitchen. Andrea followed, keeping as little space between you as possible in the crowded house. You saw Elvis, the center of attention as always, being surrounded by people. They were mostly women, and you wanted to feel something when you saw the way they pawed at him and hung off his every word.

But you felt nothing.

You tried to stay in the least populated areas of the house but everywhere you went there was someone.

“I love your scarf,” A woman with long false lashes said to you. “Where’d you get it?”

You knew she was speaking to you but you didn’t respond. You kept your mouth shut.

“You can find one just like it at that boutique downtown,” Andrea spoke up, filling the awkwardness in the wake of your silence. “You know the one with the red mannequins in the window?”

They spoke for a few minutes before the woman finally walked away.

“Happy holidays. It was nice to meet you,” She said, you knew it wasn’t true but you offered a small smile as she left.

“What was that?”

“What?”

“Why’d you ignore her?”

You avoided her eyes. “Did I ignore her?

Andrea scoffed, stunned. “Yeah, kind of. What? Did he not give you permission to speak tonight?”

Your expression must’ve said what you were hoping Andrea wouldn’t assume.

“Really?”

“It’s not like that.”

She struggled for a moment to grasp what you were saying. “Did he tell you not to speak to these people?”

“Andrea,” You said, forcing a laugh. “It’s fine. Let’s just enjoy the party.”

“Did he?”

“They aren’t supposed to speak to me either.”

Your words had the opposite effect of what you intended and she looked even more bewildered.

“Not now,” You said before she could say anything else. “Let’s hang out down here for a while then we can go upstairs and do something else.”

“We need to talk. Now.”

“Please, can’t we just~”

“Now.”

You shook your head. “I told him I’d be downstairs with you. I want to be with you.”

She followed your gaze to where Elvis was. “I don’t think he’ll notice you’re gone.”

You almost laughed at that. “He’ll notice.”

Andrea’s expression was disbelieving but she didn’t continue to pressure you. You sat at the dining table with her well into the night—until Serena found you and told you that Elvis wanted you to turn in for the night.

“Thanks, Serena,” You said, standing. “He wasn’t screwing you when he said it, was he?”

You didn’t have time to take in her expression but you imagined that she was shocked as you walked away.

“M-Mrs. Presley, I’m so sorry.” She crumbled fast. “It was a-a mistake. I told him~ i-it was a one-time thing. I-I swear.”

You stopped and faced her, trying to calm her down before anyone noticed. You forced a reassuring smile. “God, don’t make a scene in front of all these people.”

“Please don’t fire me.”

“I can’t fire you. You don’t work for me.”

She looked devastatingly guilty, you didn’t care. Andrea followed you when you walked away, eyeing Serena judgmentally.

All you wanted to do was go to bed when you got upstairs, however, Andrea quickly reminded you that you had unfinished business to tend to.

“I guess he did it,” She said as soon as the door clicked shut behind you. “He finally shrunk you down to size.”

You didn’t respond. You sat down on the edge of the bed to remove your shoes. You wanted to say something but you couldn’t. Your throat felt like it was constricting, trapping all the words inside.

“He made you show up tonight in a room full of people he told to ignore you,” She continued. “He told you not to speak to anyone and you actually did it. I mean, god, you actually did it. What kind of program is he running on you? It’s like he changes your batteries every thirty days.”

“Please stop.”

“It must be all the pills he funnels down your throat.” You couldn’t take it anymore but she didn’t relent. “That’s why he does it. To keep you pliant and easy to control. Then he keeps you trapped here like a caged animal. If you were in your right mind for more than a few days at a time you might be able to see how fucked all of this is!”

You screamed in frustration. Not necessarily at Andrea, more outwardly.

“What’s the matter with you?” She asked, startled.

“What do you want me to do?” You sobbed.

She sighed reluctantly and hugged you as you cried. “You’re out of your mind.”

You wanted to argue and say that it wasn’t true—you weren’t out of your mind, not completely.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Andrea said. “You can love him and be your own person at the same time. You shouldn’t need his permission to…exist.”

“It’s my fault,” You said. “I chose this. I deserve it.”

“All you’re good for is throwing pity parties.” She sighed, sitting beside you. “When are you going to stop punishing yourself and start living with your decision?”

“You don’t think I’m living with it?”

“I don’t think you’re living at all. You’re going through the motions and drowning everything out.”

You shook your head in denial but your voice was caught in your throat again.

“I can’t stand to see you living like this.”

The hurt you felt suddenly morphed into anger. You wanted to cry even more now, but you clenched your teeth and held back your tears. You felt bad enough without her looking in and speculating about how sad your life must be.

“Andrea, please,” You said. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t?” She asked. “I’ve been by your side for this long. Have I somehow misinterpreted what I’ve been seeing?”

“I don’t know, have you?” You countered. She released a stunned scoff, staring at you in disbelief. You raised your eyebrow in question, waiting a moment for her to continue. “It’s a simple question.”

She directed her gaze downward. “I’m worried about you. That’s the only reason I’m saying anything.”

“You don’t have to worry. I’m happy.” You didn’t notice the evident catch in your voice. “I’m taken care of and I’m loved. I have everything I want. I have you.”

She met your eyes again, her expression was troubled.

“I know you’re worked up about the party but…Elvis does that kind of thing all the time,” You continued. “He thinks he’s protecting me. He doesn’t mean any harm.”

You couldn’t tell if she was believing anything you were saying. She still had that expression on her face—she was so concerned. You sighed when she didn’t respond, glancing off for a moment.

“I think you should go~”

“Don’t make me leave~”

“I have to,” You said. “Just take a few days~ o-or however long you need. Maybe it’s all too much t-too soon. You just need to get away from me…from us.”

She stood with you and let you take her to the door as you spoke.

“If you spend some time away and your feelings don’t change then…maybe you just shouldn’t come around anymore.”

“What?”

“I don’t know…” You opened the bedroom door.

She had tears in her eyes and you fought to hold back your own. “I don’t even recognize you anymore.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. All I ever wanted was for you to be here for me and to support me. Because I need someone like you in my life.”

“Someone like me?”

“A friend, Andrea. I need a friend.”

She batted away her tears as they fell. You stepped towards her.

“If you can’t be my friend,” You started. “If he makes that too difficult, then you have to go.”

There was a beat of silence before she attempted to dry the last of her tears and left the room. You stood there for a moment. You weren’t shocked, but you had hoped she would have stayed.

You were lying awake, alone in bed when the door crept open. You had no idea what time it was as you stared blankly into the darkness of the room.

“Birdie?”

“Hm?”

“Where’s Andrea?”

“She had to go.”

You felt the bed dip and turned blindly into his arms. You were glad that he couldn’t see your tear ridden face in the dark.

“Why’re you crying?”

“Because she left.”

He tried to comfort you but it felt like he didn’t care. “I’m here.”

“You aren’t going to leave me?”

“Why would I leave you?”

You closed your eyes. “Sometimes, E…it feels like I love you so much and you don’t care about me at all.”

“Everything I do is for you.”

“I know, but still.”

He sighed, tracing patterns into the small of your back. “You’re my heart.”

“Then how could you sleep with Serena?”

“That wasn’t love with Serena.”

“Did you think about how I’d feel?”

“No, because it had nothing to do with you or how I feel about you.”

You didn’t understand.

“I didn’t do it to hurt you,” He said. “You’re my girl. You’re the only girl that has that privilege.”

“So that means you get to go around doing whoever you want?”

“It’s not like that, baby.”

“Then what’s it like?”

He fell silent. You wish you could have seen his expression.

“All I’m saying is…if you’re going to have extracurricular activities I want some liberties of my own.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I want a car and I want to go wherever I want.”

“Ray can take you anywhere~”

“I want to take myself.”

“That’s unreasonable.”

You turned over so that your back was to him. He kissed your shoulder, still holding you.

“What do you think is going to happen?” You asked.

“You’ll run away.”

“Why would I do that?”

“You’ve done it before.”

You fell silent—he was right. “I came back.”

He laughed. “Yeah, after I fucked some sense into you.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Maybe I should just knock you up, make sure you don’t go anywhere.”

“I married you. Is that not enough?”

“Nothing will ever be enough. I love you.” His voice was a whisper now. “You’re the only girl I love.”

“Liar.”

“I’ll prove it.”

*

You didn’t hear from Andrea again for a few days. When you did see her, she was downstairs talking on the phone in the kitchen. Upon first sight, you were relieved that she had come back. But she didn’t speak to you directly when you approached her.

“Here she is,” She said, handing the receiver off to you before walking away.

You watched her go in confusion, bringing the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Hi, Joel.”

“How are you?”

You hesitated, narrowing your eyes. “I’m okay.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” He said. “I was just talking to Andrea~”

“Since when do you and Andrea talk?” You asked.

“Only the past few days really.”

“Why?”

“She’s been worried about you.”

“She has?”

“Yeah…I’m worried about you too.”

You laughed. “Why?”

“We’re concerned~”

“‘We’re?’”

“Andrea, Dawn and me.”

“Oh, are you?” You felt ambushed even though it was only Joel on the line. “Dawn hasn’t been here or even picked up the phone to call.”

“She’s worried about you, honest,” Joel said. “Andrea thinks that you’re not coping well with the changes happening in your life~”

“Do you want to talk to my husband about this, Joel?”

“No, I want to talk to you.”

You took the phone from your ear. “Elvis!”

Andrea rushed into the kitchen with a panicked expression.

“Go get Elvis,” You said. “You can’t bombard me like this~”

“We aren’t bombarding you,” She said, trying to deescalate the situation. “Just talk to him.”

“How could you do this to me?”

“I’m doing this because I care. We both do.”

You brought the phone to your ear. “What do you know about how I’m coping?”

“I know exactly how you’re coping,” He said.

“You have no idea what I’m going through~”

“Okay, I’m sorry~”

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” You stressed. “I’m happy. Tell Dawn that the next time you talk to her. Since she’d rather hear about me from you.”

“Dawn’s been trying to get to you at Graceland, it’s impossible,” Joel said. “The only reason I even got through is because Andrea’s there.”

“What?”

“It’s like he has you cut off.”

“You’re lying.”

“Why would I?”

You looked at Andrea. “Why would he do that? He loves Dawn.”

“Dawn’s not the only one trying to get in touch with you,” Joel said. “I’m only saying this because I care about you. I think you have a bigger problem here than you’re willing to admit.”

You leaned against the counter, worrying your lip. You couldn’t get the mental image of Dawn trying to call you out of your mind. She must’ve thought you’d discarded her.

“You have free will,” Joel continued. “You can do whatever you want.”

“Okay?”

“Do you want our help?”

“With what?”

He sighed on the other line, he sounded defeated. Elvis entered the kitchen then, looking confused. “What’s going on?”

Andrea looked at you, her eyes pleading with you. You didn’t know if she wanted you to spare her and Joel or hear them out.

You took the phone from your ear, keeping your eyes trained on her as you handed it to Elvis. You hadn’t noticed it before but it was at that moment that you had felt the true impact of your final decision.

“It’s Joel,” You said—your voice sounded flat and separate from yourself. “He wants to talk to you.”

You didn’t wait to hear what came of the conversation. Nor did you linger to see the look of ultimate betrayal on Andrea’s face as you walked away.

She followed after you—stopping you with tears in her eyes. “I’ll never come back here. I refuse to stand by and watch you lose yourself like this.”

You stalled at the bottom of the stairs but you didn’t face her. You couldn’t.

“If I leave now, you’ll never see me again,” She said. “Please, don’t make me leave you.”

If you had another little piece of your heart to spare you would’ve given it to be crushed as she stood there awaiting your response. Her voice was a whisper when she spoke again.

“Come with me.”

You felt her hand slip into yours and, for a moment, you wanted to go. You turned and hugged her, despite the fury still burning in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m gonna miss you,” You said with tears in your eyes that you didn’t feel like crying. “I love you.”

She hugged you back but only for a moment before you were pulling away. You went upstairs without another word or glance in her direction.

You didn’t want to be bothered when Elvis found you upstairs. “Leave me alone,” You said, before he could say a word. “Just leave me alone.”

He caught the bathroom door before you could shut it, forcing it open. “What the hell was that?”

You rushed to leave the room, but he didn’t let you get far.

“What is it that Andrea’s got going on, huh?” He asked, keeping you in place by your arm. “She’s got Joel calling to talk to you, why?”

“I-I don’t know.”

He let you go, pacing angrily. “There’s no reason he should be calling to talk to you about anything. Let alone some made-up issue that Andrea’s conjured up. This is why I can’t fucking stand her. And you don’t make it any better by falling for everything she says.”

You looked at him, bewildered. “Is this my fault?”

“What’d she tell him?” He asked, fuming.

“I’m as surprised by all of this as you are,” You stressed. “I have no clue what they talked about before.”

“Bullshit~”

“I had nothing to do with this~”

“Bullshit! You’ll never talk to her again.”

“What?”

“I want her gone. I gave you a chance, it’s fucking done.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Excuse me?”

His jaw unclenched as he spoke. “You heard me.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so. It’s for your own good.”

“Is it? Or is it for yours?”

He shook his head with a look of disdain. “That’s exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. That’s all her.”

“No, it’s me.” You stepped in front of him, making him face you. “I’m asking you.”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“By not taking my aunt’s calls? By keeping me isolated from everyone?”

“Everyone?” He asked. “Dawn, I’m sorry about, honey, I really am. But who else is there?”

“That’s not the point.”

“I haven’t exactly been standing guard by the phone, and, last time I checked, it works both ways. You can call anyone, anytime. What’s stopping you?”

You didn’t meet his eyes but refused to step away when he neared you.

“There is no one else,” He said. “Joel and Dawn. Two people who’s call probably got thrown out with the other hundreds of calls that come through asking for you.”

“So?”

“So, it’s not like you’re locked in a bunker with no communication with the outside world. Don’t be a baby.”

“I’m not.”

“Don’t be.”

You met his eyes when he fell silent, trying not to let the hurt show in your expression. “You told Liz not to speak to me.”

Despite your suspicion, you weren’t prepared for his confirmation. Something about his tone made you think that he didn’t want you to find out. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“To protect you.”

“From what, Elvis?”

“…Things you don’t need to hear.”

You turned your back to him, hoping it would stop him from coming any closer. It didn’t.

“I’m not punishing you.” He placed his hands gently on your shoulders.

“Do you want me to be alone?” You asked.

“No, I want you to be with me,” He said. “I can’t risk anyone coming between us and messing with your head.”

You didn’t know what to say. His hands slipped down your shoulders and his arms wrapped around your torso.

“People like Andrea and Joel…they’ll ruin us if you let them, birdie,” He continued. “And I’ll be damned if I let anything or anyone tear us apart again. Do you understand?”

He kissed your shoulder, then your neck—murmuring against your skin. He told you how much he loved and needed you and that nothing could ever come between you. He swore that he’d be there, that you wouldn’t be alone because you’d have him. Always.

“We go together. That means wherever I go, you go.”

He loved doing that—repeating himself until his words became ingrained into the very fiber of your being.

You were supposed to relinquish all control and live within your false sense of bliss, happily. That’s what he expected of you—so that's what you did.

You let him silence your curiosity.

“It’s you, and me. Always.”

Cage up your free will.

“You’re my girl. I’m just making sure you’ll always be my girl.”

However he wanted you—

“Okay, birdie?”

—you’d try your best to be.

“…Okay, E.”

He seemed relieved. He sighed, and some of the tension left his body. He kissed your shoulder once more before pulling away.

“Come on,” He said. “Let’s go downstairs.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You have to. Liz didn’t get you all dolled up for nothing.”

You nodded—not in agreement exactly. “I’m tired.”

He narrowed his eyes for a moment, no doubt deciding whether or not to force you. “Do you want me to stay?”

“No.” You didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to be with him either.

“Are you sure?” He hummed suggestively, slipping his arms around your waist again and kissing your neck.

“Stop,” You laughed, pushing him away. “I’m sure.”

“Alright,” He sighed. “I’ll be back up in a few minutes.”

A few minutes turned into a few hours turned into the entire night and some of the next day. You didn’t know what time it was when you finally woke up. When you did, Liz was already there for you.

“How was your day yesterday, Liz?” You asked, even though you knew she wouldn’t give you much of a response.

“Fine, thank you,” She said without elaborating or even glancing up as you did your hair.

“What’d you get up to?” You asked, humoring yourself.

“…Nothing.” She shrugged off the question, showing you yourself in the mirror. “Something for around the house.”

“It’s perfect,” You said, hardly glancing at yourself. “Thank you.”

She smiled bashfully. “Of course.”

Serena entered the room carrying the coffee you requested. You didn’t want it, you just wanted to get rid of her.

You didn’t pay her any mind as she placed the coffee on the table in front of you. Elvis entered after her, meeting your eyes through the vanity.

He always waited until you were fully dressed to come get you. You didn’t know why. There was no mystery to what you’d be wearing or how your hair and makeup would be styled—it was his choice after all.

“You’re gorgeous, doll,” He said, leaning down to kiss your cheek before presenting you with a narrow black box. “Final touch.”

“What is it?” You asked, taking it.

“Open it and see.” He smiled and watched intently as you opened the box.

You offered a smile, hoping you looked pleased with the bracelet.

“Do you like it?” He asked.

“I love it.”

He took the bracelet from the box and carefully secured it around your wrist. You stood when it was done and gave him a hug—thanking him.

He dragged you along with him to the studio that day. You figured you were back to being attached at the hip. You were never sure what they were working on—it happened so fast in those days.

“Stay with Ray and Serena,” He said, taking your face in his hands and examining your expression. You weren’t sure what he was looking for. Was he picking apart your appearance or your expression? You couldn’t tell and it made you feel over-scrutinized. “I’ll come find you when we’re all done here.”

“I’ll be waiting.” What else would you be doing?

Ray showed you to the green room. Him and Serena stood by the door in shifts—they tried to go about switching out and taking guard in a casual manner. They’d pretend to be pacing the space in front of the door rather than posting up in front of it. Ray would do this thing where he’d stand and pretend to stretch his legs before Serena would suddenly decide to rest hers. It was funny, and did nothing to make you feel safe. It made you feel caged in and unable to move freely.

“Serena, can you grab my bag from the studio? I must’ve left it by accident.”

“Of course.”

You smiled as she left, looking at Ray. “Do you think they have water?”

His expression remained indifferent as always. “I’m sure they do.”

“Do you mind?”

You were relieved when they were gone and tried to take in the moment before it was over.

As you were slouched down on the couch a white envelope slipped beneath the crack of the door. You frowned and stood to grab it. You peaked out into the hallway—it was bustling with people. You shut the door and tore open the envelope. You didn’t even need to read it to know what it was.

A death threat.

You felt lightheaded. When you showed it to Ray he tried to take it to Elvis but you told him not to mention it and to get rid of it instead.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “They may still be on the premises.”

“It’s fine. No need to blow things out of proportion.”

He nodded and discarded the letter with a sigh. He stood by awkwardly as you cried and never tried to comfort you.

sorry for the late post! next week is the finale <3

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 9

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Warnings: Smut, Sy overthinking, PTSD, talk of period, threats to punch someone, language.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Part 8

The work week feels as though it’s going terribly slow. Monday night I made plans with Walter to meet up for dinner and a beer. I wanted to thank him for getting to my girl so quickly last weekend and asked him to keep a close eye on the situation. He informed me that Colin bonded out Monday morning but that he was beyond pissed about being locked up for the weekend. The jail doesn’t do releases on Sunday so he ultimately had to sit and wait until someone could bail him out Monday morning which probably enraged him more than just initially being brought back in. I updated Walt on the security measures taken at Emma’s house and then let him know she was having a professional security system installed on Tuesday. I made sure to text Emma throughout the day when I could and called her every night before bed but I found myself really missing her. By Monday night, our texts started getting flirtier and Tuesday we found ourselves straight up sexting. I felt like a teenager telling her all the things that I wanted to do to her and even sent her a picture of me shirtless after a workout before getting into the shower. After my shower, I saw that she replied with a daring picture of her in lingerie laying in her bed and I swear I thought I had a stroke from how long I stood there staring at her picture. Her hair was curled and laid out over her shoulders, she had her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth and was wearing a deep purple lace lingerie set that instantly had me sweating. Without thinking, I immediately video called her even though we hadn’t done that yet. I was surprised with how quickly she answered the phone.

“I was wondering if you either died or just didn’t like my picture.” Emma says as she answers the phone. She was still lying in bed but had the covers pulled up under her arms. 

“Sugar, I think I just about had a stroke when I got out of the shower and saw what you had sent me. Sweet Jesus babygirl, you are beautiful.” 

“Thank you. I definitely looked at your picture for longer than I care to admit.” She smiles shyly.

“Oh yeah? Like Ol’ Sy all sweaty from a work out?” 

“Mmhmm.. reminds me of when I get you sweaty from other workouts with me. Cardio specifically.” 

“You naughty little minx. How about now that I’m all cleaned up?” I pan my phone down to show my raging hard on not concealed by anything since I didn’t bother with boxers once I got dried off, too distracted by Emma’s selfie.”

“Jesus Sy! Looks like you might be missing me a little bit.” She says cheekily.

“Just a bit. I’d be willing to bet that you might be missing me too?” 

“Mmm, the little wet spot on my panties says yes.” 

“Fuck, darlin! Let me see, please.” 

Emma throws the covers off of her and spreads her legs to show me and I growl through the phone. She surprises me when she slides her thong to the side and shows me her petals glistening with her want. She arches her back and unclasps her bra to show me her perfect tits, begging to be sucked on.

“Oh, babygirl. I need you to touch that sweet little peach for me. Would you want to do that?” She nods and I start slowly stroking my cock.

“Pretend it’s me baby, put two of your fingers in that tight little pussy and curl ‘em up just like I do.” She breathily agrees and follows my instruction. I place my phone where she can see me stroking myself and I hear her moan. 

“My fingers are too small. Yours fill me up better.” She whines.

“Oh, but I’m picturing those little hands wrapped around me before you spread your mouth and put your gorgeous lips on my cock.”

“Yeah? Mmm keep going baby.” She mutters as she continues to work herself towards her high.

My voice gets deeper as I’m thrusting into my fist, “Oh I’d be spinning you around so I could get my tongue on your tasty little peach while you choked on my cock baby. I’d have your sexy ass cheeks spread above my face while I shoved two fingers in you and make you squirt all over my tongue while you swallowed my cum.”

“Ah, Austin! I’m cumming!” She cries out and I fuck my fist harder until my release spurts all over my chest and abs. Damn, I’ll need to shower again. I hate cum on my chest hair.

“Damn, darlin’!” I say as I lay back and look at Emma through the screen. She looks back at me shyly and fixes her panties before leaning forward and tugging a t-shirt over her. I am immediately jealous that it’s not my t-shirt and think I should give her one to sleep in so that maybe she’ll dream about me. 

“Don’t get all shy on me now, Sugar. We’ve done much dirtier stuff than that.” I laugh as I use my towel to wipe my spend off of myself before tossing it in the hamper and listen to her giggle.

“It just feels different not being able to snuggle up to you right after and feel you.” She murmurs. 

“I know, angel. How about we have dinner tomorrow night so I can at least see you, if you’re free.”

“That’d be nice. Want to come to mine and we can just order take out? Maybe from Gia’s?” 

“Sounds perfect, Babygirl. Everything go okay with the alarm system install today?”

“It did. The guy taught me how to use everything and I got all of the accompanying glass break sensors as well as the fire alarm and carbon monoxide connections too. It’s fully armed and already feel more relaxed knowing that the whole place is being monitored by the alarm company. Maybe that’s why I sent that spicy picture to you.”

“Well, that definitely makes me so happy and relieved. Plus, you got me acting like a teenager practically cumming on myself the second I saw you. You always look so beautiful, Sugar. Even now you’re stunning in just a t-shirt, although I wish it was my t-shirt you were wearing.” Her cheeks blush into a bright pink at the compliment I give her and I make it a new goal to get her blushing like that every time I talk to her. 

“If I had one of yours, I would sleep in it.” She says with a yawn.

“Guess I better get one to you then.” She nods enthusiastically and I can tell she’s getting sleepy. 

“I’m going to let you go and get some rest now, beautiful. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, alright?”

“Mkay, goodnight Austin. Sweet dreams.

“You too, Darlin’. Night.” I tell her before hanging up. I decide to not bother with rinsing off again since I’ll shower after my run in the morning and brush my teeth so I can turn in for the night.

I jolt upright from a nightmare and feel the sweat trickle down my chest. Fuck. I brush my hands over my face and look at my phone as I try to catch my breath. 1:56 am. Aika whines at me and slowly patters over to the bed in the moonlit room. 

“I’ll be alright girl. Just the usual shit. Sorry I woke you up.” I gruffly tell her and point for her to get back in her bed. At least someone should get some sleep. To my surprise, Mills is still unconscious on his side in his little dog bed. Normally, my yelling or grunting during nightmares has Aika, whose hearing abilities have started to fade in her old age, up and by the bed in a matter of minutes in an attempt to comfort me. I stretch my bones and head to the restroom to relieve myself and cool off with some cold water on my face and head. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. What am I doing? I can’t get involved with Emma. She deserves the perfect guy and a picket fence lifestyle. I’m fucked up and can’t even sleep for more than three hours some nights. What if she had been here tonight and saw this? I could hurt her in my sleep. I got lucky the two nights that she stayed here, but I also don’t think I’ve ever slept so well. That could be because she wore me out with her sex abilities. God, I wish I could just turn it all off. All of the trauma and the nightmares. I would give anything not to see the blood, smell the gunshot smoke, or hear the sounds of assault rifles firing around me. She’s beautiful and delicate and already scared enough from the loser she used to date. The last thing I would ever want is for her to be afraid of me. I toss some more cold water in my face before I head to the fridge and get a bottle of water. I try to lay back down knowing it’s hit or miss if I’ll fall back asleep. If I do, I’ll either pick up right where the nightmare left off, or I’ll be so exhausted that I’ll sleep without any dreams at all. That’s what I’m praying for. I close my eyes and try to think of nothing other than Emma’s smile. Emma’s happiness as she loves on the dogs, and her peaceful face while fully relaxed in sleep.

 My alarm startles me awake at 5:30 and unlike most days I don’t want to get up. I was lucky that I was eventually able to fall into a dreamless sleep. I toss some shorts on and brush my teeth while the dogs do their business out back. After feeding them, I grab my earbuds and my phone, tie my tennis shoes and head out for my run. Pounding the pavement with Led Zeppelin blaring in my ears helps me clear out my head. Some people run to think through their problems. I do the opposite, I run to empty my head of anything and everything. Choosing to focus instead on the nature around me and the difficulty of the path I have chosen. Inhaling and exhaling is my focus. Everything else gets pushed away for another day.

Luckily the day moved on a bit quicker, probably since I was so tired. After listening to my Nana rave about Emma again and ask for updates, which I had none to give, I was able to get on to work and push my focus onto the project at hand. After work, I went home to shower and put on some clean clothes before loading up the pups and heading out. I even remembered to grab an old faded green army t-shirt to give Emma before I left. I was on my way to Emma’s house for dinner and was still feeling a bit conflicted about our relationship. It’s obviously all my own bullshit, but I can’t help but feel like Emma doesn’t know what she’s truly getting herself involved with because I haven’t shown her that side of me. I know nothing has been made official, and that’s my own doing but I don’t know how far I should let this go. I absolutely wanted to see her and spend time with her, that wasn’t a lie. I just worry about getting attached or involving her in my problems, more than she already knows of at least. I decide not to allow my self-loathing to ruin the night, so I talk myself out of that headspace before pulling into Emma’s driveway.

            She answered the door and immediately loved on the dogs. Mills still has limited manners so I had to reprimand him a bit for jumping on her. Didn’t need him scratching up her gorgeous legs in those tiny little shorts. After the dogs made it inside, Emma wrapped her arms around my neck and stood on her tip toes to give me a kiss. It wasn’t overly passionate, but it was definitely more than a peck. It reminded me of our kiss that day on my back patio. 

“Hi.”

“Hey, Babygirl. You doing okay?” 

“Mmhmm. Is it lame to say that I missed you?”

“Nah, not if that’s how you’re feelin’. I missed you too, Sugar.” I say as I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. There’s that blush that I’m always aiming to see. I smirk at her.

“As always, you’re looking delicious.”

“Delicious? Like something edible?”

“You know I’m a man of my word and I’d love to eat every inch of you. I could show you if you don’t believe me.” She shakes her head incredulously as I smirk while my hands roam up and down her body. She bites her lip and I groan. She giggles and places a quick kiss against the scruff on my cheek before turning around and walking to the living room.

"I brought you something." I say and hand her the shirt. She beams at me before lightly kissing my lips.

"Thank you!" She inhales and I arch my eyebrow. "It smells like you."

"I hope that's not a bad thing." I chuckle.

"It's a very good thing." Wow, this is some real boyfriend shit, Sy.

We sit on the couch and I pull her legs across my lap, so that I can run my hands up and down them. 

“I’ve already got my food order in the cart, what do you want to eat? I’m starving!”

“Hmm… I guess I’ll do some fettucine alfredo, and get some of those garlic knots please.”

“Mkay! Do you want a salad too?”

“I guess I ought too.” I say patting my belly. She rolls her eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, you’re almost at risk of losing one of your several abs. Can’t be too careful.” She says in her little southern sarcastic drawl.  I arch my eyebrow at her. “Was that sass, lil’ miss? I’ll have you know, my abs aren’t going anywhere unless you start cooking for me every day. I’m still dreamin’ about those biscuits.” I tickle her sides and she attempts to fight me off. 

“Okay, okay. I give up! No more tickles. Please, I can’t take it.” She says breathlessly and clutching her stomach almost in pain. Maybe I was too rough with her. She’s so small compared to me, I guess I need to be gentler. 

“I’m sorry, Darlin’. Was I too rough?”

“Nope, just got a stitch in my side.” She replies.

After placing the order for our food, she shows me the alarm system that was installed so she can get my opinion on it. We head back to the couch and are involved in quite a heavy make-out session with Emma sitting in my lap. I start to unbutton her shorts so that I can slide my fingers into her warm, wet destination and am surprised that she shakes her head while pushing my hand away and says “not tonight.” I’m fine with it if she doesn’t want to do anything, I’ve never had an issue with being told no, but now I’m just curious as to if I’ve done something wrong. She’s acting just a little bit off towards me. I’m about to ask as the doorbell rings with our food order. After Emma receives the food, we sit down and start eating.

“You alright?” I ask her.

“Mmhmm.” She smiles over her glass of sweet tea but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“How’s work been so far this week?” She asks.

“Usual, busy with projects coming up but I’m not complainin’ about job security.” I tell her. “What about for you?”

“It’s been busy, I feel like I barely get a chance to sit down but good. I have two surgeries scheduled tomorrow, just regular neuters, but who knows what else may come up. Did you know there is a man in town who has a 28-year-old tortoise named Fred?”

“Yeah, that’s the young family that moved here a few years back. Jonathan Turner.”

“Yes! Fred was so sweet. I haven’t gotten to care for a tortoise since I was in vet school and even then, I mostly was just observing. He was healthy though, which is good. It took three of us to get him in and out of the owner’s car, but I got Janet to take a picture of me feeding him lettuce today.” She says while showing me the picture on her phone with a smile. There she is smiling widely while holding lettuce to a giant turtle. I love how passionate she is about her job.

“Well ain’t that the cutest. Send it to me.”

“I meant to send it to you earlier, but just got swamped with charting and forgot.” She tells me as she sends the photo to my phone. We’d been sending each other random candid pictures throughout the past couple of days.

“You never told me how your dad reacted to the whole Colin thing?” Maybe that’s what’s bothering her.

“Oh, it was essentially a two-hour conversation where he listed all of the reasons I should come back home to live with them, and then all of the reasons I’m not safe here. He feels like I’m ‘not hearing him’ or I’m ‘taking unnecessary risks in the name of independence.’”

“Why does he think you aren’t safe here?”

“Mainly because I’m alone, I don’t have friends or family close by, and Colin now knows my address and place of work.”

“He knows where you work?”

“Yeah. At work on Monday, Janet informed me that a man had called last Saturday and asked if I would be working that weekend. She explained that I wasn’t on call and for the weekend but that if there was an emergency, she could recommend an emergency veterinarian. He didn’t give her his name, but it had to be him.” 

“Fuck.”

“Yup, that’s probably what he attempted first. I mean, it’s not hard to google my name as a veterinarian and find what clinic I’m associated with. That’s likely how he found out I was here in town.”

“Well, what’s the plan if he shows up at work?”

“I’ve given Janet his name and description. If he shows up, she is supposed to discreetly notify me and call the police. That’s really all I can do. I’m sure the entire town will know by the end of the week because she seems to be quite the gossip.” Emma says embarrassed. 

“Baby, you’ve done nothing wrong and everyone will see that. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

“It’s just that I was loving the fact that nobody here knew about my past. I wasn’t judged or pitied immediately. I was starting to get to know people and being viewed for my job and personality rather than some crazy sob story that everyone talks about. I’m just frustrated that it’s over now.”

“I can have a talk with her if”

“No, no. I appreciate it but I just don’t want to bring it up anymore.” She interrupts.

“Alright, how’d you leave things with your parents?”

“Well, Dad wanted to come out immediately but I still don’t have anywhere for him to stay. I'm not going to let them waste money on a hotel. I’ve convinced them to wait until the weekend after next to come and visit. So, I have to get all of the furniture for the guest bedroom figured out this weekend.”

“I’m happy to help if you’d like.” 

“I might take you up on that offer because otherwise I planned to hire someone to help me get a bed inside.”

“Nah, sweetness. Sy’s gotchu.”

“Yes, he does.” She grins. 

“I’m ready for dessert.” She says while I’m cleaning up the plates from our dinner.

“Whatcha got in mind?” I ask because I’m thinking it’s not the same as what I had in mind originally.

“Ice cream!” She opens the freezer door and pulls out a large gallon of blue bell vanilla ice cream. That brand is about the closest to homemade that you can buy. That’ll do.

She brings it to the counter and reaches on her tiptoes to bring down two bowls from the cabinet.

She hands me the scoop and I get started scooping some out for us as she scopes out some chocolate syrup. 

“I need chocolate.” She smiles. We take our bowls to the living room and pile up on the couch but she leaves a little bit of space between us which feels unusual. 

“Something I did to bother ya, Sugar?”

“No, not at all! Why do you say that?”

“You just seem a little off tonight. I’m not saying anything’s wrong, I just wanted to make sure I didn’t piss ya off without realizing.” 

“God no. It’s not you. It’s me, I’m just not feeling great.”

“Coming down with something?” I ask.

“Not necessarily. It’s… sorry, it’s awkward to say, but it’s that time of the month. Started around lunchtime today and the cramps can be pretty painful.” She whispers with pink tinted cheeks.

Duh. The chocolate, not wanting my hands in her pants, holding her tummy after I tickled her. 

“Babygirl, I’m a grown man. Nothing to be shy or embarrassed about. I ain’t afraid of a little blood. You coulda told me and I would’ve brought you some medicine or sweets. It’s natural, Sugar.” She fidgets with her fingers while I’m speaking.

“Sorry, Colin was always weirded out if I said anything about it. Heaven forbid he saw me buying tampons. He acted like I was disgusting and I guess, old habits die hard.”

“He’s a pussy.” I say and she laughs at my response.

“He is. One time, I bled on the bed when I got my period in the middle of the night and he was so freaked out. I apologized but he threw the sheets away. He wouldn’t let me wash them. Just threw them away and told me to buy some new ones. He made it more embarrassing than it already was. It was right after we moved in together so I just assumed he wasn’t used to living with a woman but he never got comfortable with ‘feminine things.’”

I sigh. Poor thing. “I’m not like that. Periods are natural and I don’t have a problem with any of it. I’ll even buy you tampons if you need me too. Even rub your little tummy.” I say with a grin and she smiles back. “You don’t have to be worried about telling me. In fact, next time, please tell me so I can come prepared to make you feel better.” 

“I just didn’t want to gross you out. We still haven’t been seeing each other that long and I guess I was just embarrassed.”

“I swear if that douchebag ever shows back up, I’m not showing restraint again. I’m going to punch that asshole straight in the face for ever making you feel bad.” I tell her as I set the bowl on the coffee table.

“I appreciate the sentiment but you don’t have to do that. Hopefully we’ll never see him again. Maybe he got the point last time.”

“Come ‘ere.” I tell her as I pat my lap.

She climbs up on my lap and I shift us so I'm spooning her on the couch with my arm under her head. I reach under her the edge of her shirt to gently place my hand across the width of her little abdomen. She sighs and snuggles her face into my arm. 

“Thank you.” Her muffled voice says against my skin.

“Don’t have to thank me for a thing. In fact, thank you for telling me what was going on. I was worried I made you mad somehow.”

“How would you have made me mad? You’re perfect. You literally never do or say anything wrong.”

“Sugar, I do a lot wrong, not intentionally of course. I’m a typical man so I can sometimes be an idiot. I might say or do something wrong and not even realize.” I chuckle and so does she.  “Just promise me you’ll tell me if I fuck up and don’t realize?”

“I promise.” She says. We sit there in silence just cuddling a bit before she speaks.

“Would you tell me about your mom?” It catches me off guard.

 “What do you want to know?”

“What was she like? Did she look like you? What do you miss the most about her.”

“She was the most incredible mother I could imagine having. Very loving, not very subtle when she didn’t like something I did, but she loved me anyway. She had long dark curly hair like mine before the chemo made it fall out. She was a great cook; got that from Nana, and she loved gardening. She always had the prettiest yard with all kinds of different flowers. She was a teacher when I was growing up, taught first grade at the elementary school. She loved reading and made sure I had hundreds of books to read. I guess I miss just talking to her the most. She always had a way of calming me down. She was extremely wise and would listen patiently before dropping the most prophetic advice you could imagine.” I smile at the thought but then images of her sick and weak from the chemo pop into my brain and I stop.

“I’m so sorry she got sick and you lost her. She sounds incredible.” 

“She really was. I miss her a lot. She died and I guess I lost all sense of direction for a while. Decided to focus on the military and let it harden me a bit.”

“It was how you chose to grieve. I certainly don’t know what I would’ve done in your position… Do you regret serving in the army?”

“Not at all. Serving my country gave me purpose when I didn't have any. It definitely kept me from going buck-wild and down a dark road. I shouldn’t even be alive, but I am so I have to make the most of the life I was given when others weren’t so lucky.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just…I just got lucky. Good men died out there in front of me. Under my leadership. It’s hard to go on from that and act like life is normal when you’ve seen some of the things that I have.”

“You could tell me about it… you know, if you wanted too. You don’t have to carry that alone.” She turns in my arms to face me.

“I can’t.” I tell her, my voice almost cracking. She looks at me and nods.

“I’m here if you ever want too.” 

“Thanks, Sugar. Don’t worry about me. I’m alright.” I rub the scruff on my head.

We lay there just cuddling and watching tv before she yawns and I know I need to head on home. We both have work tomorrow.

After several goodbye kisses and the promise of Friday lingering in our minds, I load up the dogs and head on home.

Part 10

Author's Note: Just a heads up friends, I am still in the first trimester of my pregnancy and the morning sickness (ALL DAY SICKNESS) is making it so hard to write when I want too. The doc put me on meds to help, but they make me super sleepy. I also have other littles that require a lot of time and attention. Just to let y'all know, updates may be slow but I will be working on it when I have time/feel well enough. Thank you for your patience with me and THANK YOU for following along on Sy and Emma's journey!

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