#it might go away as i get used to living in Michigan but.

[elysiuminfra]

was checking out local orgs on facebook and saw an lgbt organization in my new city and got so emotional i started crying. i think growing up in the south where meeting another trans person was so rare messed me up more than I thought it did. let alone huge support organizations with events.

[sc0tters]

Guest Room | Trevor Zegras

summary: sometimes all you need is a trip away to an old friend.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (m receiving), use of a sex toy, swearing.

word count: 4.62k

authors note: this is acc for a Trevor I have never written for in pre ducks debut so this takes place in 2021! I wanted to change things up for our f1 x hockey playlist so here we have one who is a rookie! I think it should be a given by now but we need to thank @sweetestdesire for letting me pick her Trevor smut brain to help write this one out!

You needed a break. 

Life had been on this weird high after you won the Formula Two championship and were now moving up into the McLaren F1 team as a reserve driver. You hated how out of place you felt yet that somehow you still hadn’t done enough to be where you deserved to be. 

You had settled into your apartment in London now and after spending Christmas with your family you got an offer you couldn’t resist. Trevor had just returned home from the World Junior Championships and he was in need of some company in his apartment. He was back in San Diego awaiting his debut for the Gulls but that didn’t matter for him as he craved seeing the one person who was ready to be honest with him. You craved that attention too as you were at your wits end with everyone in your parents lives wanting to know about your career “you stay safe okay?” Ellen sighed as she pulled you into her arms. 

It made Jim smile as you rolled your eyes “Z might be irresponsible but at least you know who killed me if I go missing.” You joked seeing your mom grow unimpressed “you should get going before you are late kid.” Jim pointed out as he kissed your head before he ushered you off. 

Even as you went off in the world before each race your parents were watching as you left to the airport. Hockey fans were all around with most in redwings gear, making your bluejays cap blend you in as though you were meant to be a mere fly on the wall. You watched your brothers do well in both Vancouver and New Jersey when they seemed to have everything under control like they knew what they were doing was right for them. 

You used to love racing, it was your everything. But spending a season forcing every free moment you had into training only to be beaten to a seat, it killed you. It threw this spanner into the works that fried your brain leaving you unsure about everything as you lacked the simple clarity that was once your comfort. 

That was part of the reason you couldn’t say no to joining Trevor. He might have always been Jacks friend first but that boy knew how to react to whatever it was you seemed to feel. So in that moment you just needed someone to be honest with you. 

San Diego was warmer than Michigan as you were now getting ready to discard your coat as there was no snow in sight“speedy!” As ironic as your nickname was, Trevor didn’t give it to your for your speed on a track in your car. He gave it to you because he has never seen someone run away from a group of teenager boys after a work out as fast as you do. 

You whipped your head around with a soft smile on your face as you locked eyes with the older boy “it’s good to see you.” He mumbled pushing himself off of his car as he made his way over to you “wish I could say the same mr MVP.” You teased barely being able to contain your smile as you let out a laugh at the feeling of his arms around you. 

It was one place that you always seemed to feel comfortable no matter where you two were “don’t start with me ms world champion.” It didn’t take him long to see that is joke didn’t land in the way that he wanted it to “think you’ve been on a long flight.” He announced taking your suitcase from behind you letting his one arm stay wrapped around your waist. 

Being back around him already was having an impact on you as you felt like you were melting into his touch “thank you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, one you swore he couldn’t hear. But instead he smiled as he nodded opting to keep his newfound joy to himself. 

In all honesty you were surprised when you saw his apartment, the ride to the building was just enough time that you were both able to catch up on life. But now you were stood in an apartment that had not one but two properly decorated rooms “when did you decide to get a bed?” You cocked your head remembering to the time where he had only an air mattress on the floor for weeks.

It made him pull his eyes into a sharp line “ha ha very funny.” He placed his keys in the bowl before his eyes shot to the grey couch in front of him “but my mom came and decorated the place.” His confession made your lips form into an o shape.

You clasped your hands together “I knew it!” A laugh left your lips as you were happy to hear that you were right “yes now would you like to come sit and tell me why you picked San Diego over New Jersey?” Jack had let it slip to Trevor how irritated he was that you didn’t want to see your brother but instead his best friend. 

Trevor tapped the cushion next to him motioning to you to join him on the couch “I needed to get away.” You confessed as you shrugged “Jack means well but he thinks reserve is such a great position for me.” Your scoff wasn’t missed as you shook your head. 

The boy felt bad as he knew your brother hadn’t shut up about your achievements “you deserve to be on a team.” Trevor disagreed with your opinion “and I will always let you come back here to avoid your brothers.” His words made you smile. 

He watched you pull your feet on the cushion “be careful because soon you won’t get rid of me.” You joked as you let out a giggle “hey at least you know how to cook.” Trevor shrugged making you scoff. 

You threw the pillow behind you at him resulting in his laugh echoing off of the walls of his apartment “I would not cook for you!” You shook your head “you wouldn’t have to do it every day.” The boy countered as he smiled. 

The two of you got the chance to just sit there in this peaceful silence “but on a real note could you cook tomorrow night?” He began as he scratched the back of his head “I have practice late and I don’t think either of us can be doing restaurants two nights in a row.” He explained as your stomach growled on cue “you want dinner now?” Trevor teased as he smiled running his fingers over your knee.

You wanted to act like you were but as the last thing you had was the cut up fruit you had for breakfast and the overpriced bottle of water from the airport “let me get dressed.” You were in dire need of a proper change out of your winter clothing for the warmer weather that the west coast sported “and y/n.” Trevor called out as he watched you walk to the guest bedrooms door. 

You cocked your head as you nodded “I’m glad that you’re here.” His confession was so sweet that if any of the other boys heard him, Trevor would have been chirped at forever “me too.” You smiled ad you walked into the guest bedroom letting the door shut behind you. 

When Trevor left for practice you found yourself at a mall. The boy said he was going to be gone for hours with a game prep session right after which gave you both ample time to shop for groceries and window shop. Part of you had been left irritated as there was a new headline that again called into question your abilities as a driver if all you were getting was a reserve role. 

It was just another tap at your sanity that was only left feeling worse after last night. You had woken up in the middle of the night needing a glass of water when you heard Trevor. He clearly had a video open of some sort as you could hear both foreign female and male voices. But what got to you about it was that it was porn. 

Trevor let whimpers and moans fall from his lips that were enough to make you squirm as you had been feeling sexual frustrated. The last time you had sex was well over six months ago and your fingers and brush handle could only do so much for you and it wasn’t enough. 

So when you walked by Lotions and Lace it was as though your thoughts had been answered. You had never made the jump to sex toys before but with your only other current option being your brother’s best friend it seemed like the better of the two. Your eyes settled on the first vibrator you found as it was hot pink and on some massive display case. 

Before you knew it you were back at his place with dinner in the oven as you stared at the bag in front of you. The box that held the vibrator peeked out from the corner, with some over exaggerated message about pleasure on it that made your cheeks grow warm.

Your foot tapped against the floor as you looked to your watch and then back to the box, before your eyes settled on the door to Trevor’s room. He had shut it before he left but you could still hear the faint moans from last night as you let your hand form a fist as your thighs pressed against each other “fuck it.” You grumbled grabbing the bag from the table as you headed to your own room. 

You didn’t bother with shutting the door behind you. Since you could feel the wet patch forming on your panties, and you swore you were going to have at least twenty minutes before Trevor came home. Your leggings were stripped from your legs as you pulled your panties down with them making sure to kick both items of clothing away. 

The buzzing noise echoed in your ears as you trailed the head of the vibrator over your clit as your thighs spread “fuck.” You whimpered feeling your thighs begin to squirm. 

The picture of Trevor’s moans played in your mind as you caught your lower lip between your teeth. Your eyes screwed shut as you began to tease yourself enjoying the feeling of pleasure that you hadn’t felt in years “please Z.” The whimper fell for your lips as you began to picture him on top of you. 

Trevor smiled as he walked back into the apartment as the smell of chicken in the oven invaded his nostrils “y’know the offer to come live as my chef is still on the table.” He joked thinking you were sat in the living room “god.” You moaned feeling your eyes roll back into your head. 

It was enough to make the boy freeze as he realised what was going on. He felt wrong letting his eyes trail to your room but somehow he couldn’t find a way to stop himself. Your moans echoed in his ears and as his cock grew harder in his shorts. 

He let his bag drop to the floor as he cleared his throat “I’m so close Z.” The whimper made him walk closer to your room as he wondered if he heard you right “feel so good Trev.” Now he knew you were talking about him. 

The boy took more steps to your door until he finally let his eyes stick in the opening of the door. You were a heavenly sight as you were in a strappy top and nothing on your bottom half was bare as you continued to tease your clit with your new toy. 

Trevor couldn’t help but grunt as you moaned letting your body squirm against the sheets. The sudden noise made your eyes shoot open to the door where the boy stood “hey pretty girl.” You continued what you were doing as you watched him stare at you. 

He smirked watching your free hand travel up to your breast “need more.” You moaned again starting to feel like you were getting close “you think I’d just let you get to come that fast?” Trevor sucked at his teeth as he crossed his arms. 

Your face dropped as he laughed “c’mon you’d have to beg if you want anything more.” The boy explained walking closer to you “want you to make me feel so full.” You begged feeling tears form in your eyes as he smirked.

The boy stood his ground “so is that why you decided to act like a little slut and fuck yourself on my guest bed?” His words made your cheeks turn red as you nodded “needed it so bad.” You confessed as you watched him hover over you. 

His hand dropped to yours as he helped control your hand wanting to get you to come “be a good girl and let go then.” He took control of your vibrator as he tilted it closer to your clit “fuck!” You groaned arching your back as you drove your hips closer to the toy.

Trevor watched in awe as pleasure shot through you reached the high “god right there!” You whimpered feeling your thighs shake as they began to clamp together. 

He didn’t let it stop as he watched he’d you continue to fuck yourself through your orgasm “please Z enough.” You shook your head trying to pull away from him “you think you have been a good girl?” He asked seeing tears stream down your cheeks from the overstimulation as your cunt burned.

As you stayed quiet the boy finally listened pulling it away from you “holy shit.” Your chest heaved as you pushed your hands through your hair “you still with me pretty girl?” Trevor toyed the toy off as he helped you sit up straight “felt so good.” Your confession was quiet as you stared at the ground. 

It made him smile as he ran his fingers under your chin “c’mere doll.” He muttered as he cupped your cheeks pulling you closer to him “think it’s about time I get to taste you.” Trevor dropped his head to kiss you.

The kiss was needy as his tongue grazed across your lower lip “mhm.” The hockey player let out a grunt as you straddled his lap given yourself the upper hand. 

You propped yourself up by your knees as the taste of his kiss had remnant’s of the Gatorade you assumed he drank after practice “fuck baby.” Trevor let out a grunt as he watched you grind your hips into his. 

He let his hands travel down to your hips trying to stop you “I’m gonna need you to behave before I come in my fucking pants.” He warned shaking his head as he looked down to the new wet patch that was forming on his pants “you’re no fun.” You let your lips form a pout as you kissed him once more before you slid onto the floor letting your knees rest on the cool wooden floor. 

The boy swore he was dreaming as he watched you sit there “think it’s time I make you feel so good.” You cooed sending him a smile as you ran your hands up his sweatpants “fuck please baby.” He begged propping himself up as he placed his hands behind him.

You tugged at his sweatpants pulling them down with his boxers. His cock sprung out as it hit his torso “you look so pretty.” You mumbled licking your lips as you felt your mouth water “it’s all for you doll.” He confessed biting at the inside of his cheek when your hand wrapped around his cock.

You pumped them up and down a few times before you watched his precum ooze out of the swollen head “fuck don’t tease me.” Trevor groaned watching your head drop to the point where you were mere millimetres away from him “ask me nicely.” You let out a dry laugh looking up at him. 

Your hand began to speed up leaving him quiet  “not so brave are you know big boy?” You cocked your head as you grazed your thumb over his head picking up the precum leaving Trevor to watch as you brought your hand up to your mouth wrapping your lips around the finger. 

Your tongue swirled around it letting out a moan as you could taste the saltiness on your tongue “please.” Trevor found himself jealous of your finger and he couldn’t believe that he was willing to admit that too “since you asked so nicely.” You nodded smiling to yourself as you slipped your thumb from your lips watching the trail of spit break from your mouth. 

The hockey player didn’t need to say anything more as you wrapped your lips around his cock “fuck you’re perfect.” Trevor let out a grunt as his hands went to your hair. 

You hollowed your cheeks out as your nose hit his pelvic bone trying to take as much of him as you could. The boy watched you look up at him through hooded eyes “keep sucking that cock f’me.” He mumbled as you fell into this steady rhythm.

He was in awe as the sound of you gagging echoed in his ears as you tried to take more of him each time you let your mouth take more of him as you tilted your head trying to open your throat. Trevor swore it was pure heaven as he began to bring his hips up to meet your face trying to get himself closer to that high. 

Last nights efforts felt like a distant thought as Trevor had spent it picturing that you were instead around his cock, rather than his own hand “I’m gonna.” The hockey player let out a grunt as your hand replaced your mouth once more “go make a mess for me Z.” You cooed kissing his lips again. 

The taste was addictive as he tried to stop himself “just want to make you feel so good.” You mumbled locking your eyes with his as he nodded “want to taste you before you fuck me so good.” Was the last thing that left your lips before you dropped your head again. 

Your pace was brutal practically sucking his cock like it was a lollipop “Jesus y/n.” Trevor grunted as his head fell back when he came letting his release coat the back of your throat “you’re a fucking god.” He mumbled blissfully unaware as you let his limp cock fall from your lips. 

You felt some of his release ooze from the side of your mouth “taste so good.” You mumbled bringing your hand to pot it back into your mouth. He swore that if he wasn’t still coming down from his first orgasm he would have come again. 

Trevor cleared his throat when you crawled back into his lap “wanna be a good girl and swallow f’me?” He asked as he cocked his head letting his hand wrap around your throat when you nodded. 

His hand caught the feeling of the release going down your throat “fuck you’re a pretty girl.” He muttered running his finger over your lower lip “I need you Z.” You pleaded letting out a whimper as you felt his cock beneath you. 

As you clenched your cunt the sensation made you both squirm “what do you want baby?” He asked cocking his head as he began to grind your hips against his. 

It made you hiss “your cock.” You got straight to the point as you felt your eyes flutter “ask nicely.” He taunted reminding you of the antics you played earlier on. 

You swallowed back a moan “I wanna feel so full of your cock.” You whined biting at your lower lip “want you to fuck me like you mean it.” You pleaded letting a shaken breath leave your lips.  

That was all he needed as he picked you up “Trevor!” You squealed wrapping your arms around his neck “just want to fuck you properly doll.” He explained with a smile laying you down on your sheet. 

He pulled his top off of his torso  before he was left with the sight of you already naked as you stripped out of your vest “think you already knew you were gonna get fucked real good tonight.” Trevor smirked kicking his sweatpants off as he found himself crawling to get closer to you “gonna let me fuck you raw?” The question came more so because he didn’t have any condoms on hand or in his room and he knew he wasn’t going to risk going to the store to get more, letting this opportunity slip past him.

You nodded running your fingers over your breasts “wanted you.” You whined making the boy smirk as pumped his cock ensuring that it was hard again “and now my pretty little girl is gonna get me all that easy huh?” The boy let out a grunt before he situated himself back between your legs “if you won’t Z I am sure that the little toy down there could do me just fine.” You snapped as your eyes pulled into a sharp line.

It made him laugh how he could get under your skin so fast even as your nipples peaked due to the cool air that the fan in your room created “no need to get all angry on me now doll.” Trevor clicked his tongue as he ran his cock over your clit resulting in a whimper leaving your lips.

He repeated the action twice more watching as his tongue darted out of his lips from pure concentration “just fu-ck god!” You practically jumped out of your skin as you felt him thrust his cock into your cunt letting his hips meet yours as he gave you no time to adjust. 

The boy smirked letting his head come closer to yours as he halted his movements taking in the sight properly “it’s just me.” He smirked running his fingers up your torso letting his hands cup your breasts ‘fuck off.” You grumbled as his head dipped to your shoulder.

His lips nipped at your tender skin “now that is no way to talk to me when you’re currently full of my dick.” The boy sucked at his teeth as he shook his head enjoying how he could hear just how much his actions left you stagnating your breath “please move.” You pleaded feeling your cunt throb as your walls hugged his cock.

It made him smile as he let his arms go on either side of you trapping you where you were “fuck baby.” He moaned driving his hips away before he pushed them back towards you setting up a painfully slow rhythm, like he wanted to torture you.

Your hands found themselves on either side of his cheeks “and here I was thinking that this mouth was good.” His chain lay flat against your neck as his forehead rested against yours “bout to get me stuck on this cunt.” The possessiveness in his voice made your cunt clench around him as your legs wrapped around his waist resulting in him reaching a deeper part of your core.

His lips grazed yours in a lousy effort to muffle his moan ‘but maybe you would like that?” When you didn’t answer his question immediately he began to increase his pace treating you like you were all of a sudden the last girl he was going to sleep with on this planet “want to be here forever.” You cried out as your breasts began to jolt against his skin with each thrust.

The desperation to come all over again hit you both as if this wouldn’t have been your second orgasms of the night “wanna make you never leave this apartment.” Trevor confessed letting his teeth tug at your lower lip making you whine in pleasure “just fucking make me cum first.” You grumbled letting your mouth form an o shape as he hit your thigh with a soft slap.

Trevor shook his head growing irritated at this new found attitude  of yours as he was trying too give you everything that you should have wanted “you want to be a brat and I’ll leave you without that fucking toy.” He warned honestly in half the mind to break it as you clearly weren’t going to need it whilst you were still with him.

His pelvic area grazed your clit making your eyes flutter as you drove your hips up desperate to feel that all over again “thought you liked this cunt too much?” You quipped back through gritted teeth trying your best to ignore how your legs began to shake “didn’t say I needed you to cum first though doll.” The warning was in genuine as you both knew he was going to make sure he fucked you through your own orgasm before he even thought about his own.

The sound of skin slapping was enough for you to break “please let me cum and I’ll let you fuck me whenever you want.” If the boy wasn’t currently the closest thing he has felt to pussy drunk he might have actually laughed at the offer “even on the boat?” In a drunk game of confessing things to the boy, you had let it slip that you had some fantasies about a guy fucking you on the family boat if you two took it for a night cruise. But of course it would only be someone who you liked enough to meet your brothers.

You nodded feeling his hand slide between your two sweaty bodies “anywhere you want.” You mumbled writhing your back against the sheet when his fingers came into contact with your clit “you like that don’t ya pretty girl?” Trevor teased feeling your cunt clench around him once more.

A whimper left your lips as he arched his back allowing his lips to latch onto your left nipple with his tongue swirling around the sensitive bead “please let me cum Z.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as he nodded “go make a mess on my cock.” His order came as he moved his attention to your other breast topping you over the edge when he locked his eyes with you.

It made you screw your eyes so tight that you swore you could see stars “fuck fuck fuck!” You chanted writhing your body against your sheet and him as he continued his actions of rubbing his fingers against your clit until your cunt began to clamp down on him in these random bursts trying to milk his cock.

As much as he enjoyed getting to fuck you raw he didn’t want to have to deal with the consequences as he pulled his cock out of your cunt letting his release spray across your lower stomach when his hand began to pump at his cock “god.” He let out a grunt watching the damage he had done like it was an art piece.

You looked up at him through hooded eyes as you smiled “it’s just me.” You mumbled making him laugh as he ran his fingers through your hair to push it out of your face “think I should get you in the shower before we get some dinner.” The smell of the chicken came back to you as you heard the smoke alarm go off “The chicken!”

[cuttergauthier]

Summer Time

Rutger Mcgroarty x Female Reader

Warning: against, Toxic ex, Controlling ex, stalker ex, cussing, fluff

word count: 2.4k

This fic is apart of the insta edit The Summer Everything Changed

let me know what you guys think🤍

Molly invited me to spend the summer with her and her family at a lake house that they go to for a few weeks every year, we been best friends since we were kids, her family is like my own so every year they invite me, the only person in her family I don’t get along with is her brother Rutger.

Rutger and I have never been friends, he’s always rude to me when he’s nice to everyone else. Molly warned me that this year Rutger might be even more rude since he’s apparently been in a mood since he broke up with his girlfriend.

I’ve met Sierra before, her and Rutger dated for about 5 years, and just like Rutger she hated me, even when I was always nice to her. 

I hope this year will be different since Molly is bringing her boyfriend again, I was supposed to bring mine again this year but we broke up about a month ago, it didn’t exactly end well so now Rutger and I will be the only single ones, at first I almost told Molly I wasn’t going to go since I don’t want to third wheel her and her boyfriend, or be alone with Rutger but she convinced me to say yes.

The lake house is only an hour away from our hometown so I told Molly that this year I would take my car and drive there, if anything happens i can leave whenever I want.

I put my suitcase in my car, and started the drive there. Molly and her family have been there since yesterday. It’s 2:00 p.m. right now so i should be there by 3:00 p.m.

I parked behind Molly’s car in the driveway, I unbuckled my seatbelt and made my way to the trunk to get my suitcase.

I got my stuff and made my way to the door, and walked in. 

The door leads to the living room where I saw Rutger. He turned to look at me and rolled his eyes. 

“What you can’t knock now?” He asked, annoyed. I rolled my eyes at him.

“When have I ever knocked?” I asked. Her family always told me to make myself at home, and said that I could drop by whenever her mom even gave me a house key at their home because I always came over.

“Well maybe you should start,” he said before getting up and walking away. 

I made my way upstairs to my usual room. I ran into MOM. 

“Hey sweetheart, I'm so happy you’re here” she said, giving me a hug.

“Thanks for inviting me,” I said smiling.

“You’re like a daughter to me, you will always be invited” she said.

We talked for a few more seconds before I went to my room.

I started unpacking when Molly burst through the door and ran to hug me. I started laughing.

“I missed you” she said

“Molly, we saw each other yesterday before you left,” I said chuckling. She pulled away and smiled

“I know, it’s been 1 day too long” she said. 

Molly and I are usually always with each other or at least talk once a day. We both decided to go to University of Michigan, we always stick together.

“I missed you to molly” i said smiling

“Good, now let me help you finish unpacking” 

“Thanks” 

It only took us about 30 minutes to finish unpacking so Molly sat down on my bed and looked at me smirking. Oh no what did she do?

“What’s that look for?” I asked

“Well you see, I'm sorry” she said nervously. 

I looked at her confused.

“Sorry for what? What did you do?” I asked 

“Well you see, you were only supposed to be here tomorrow, so my parents and I kinda planned a double date night… so you’re going to be stuck here with Rutger” she said.

I rubbed my eyebrows and sighed.

“It’s fine Molly, I'll just stay in my room if I have to,” I said, smiling softly. 

This is not how I expected my first night here to go, but I get it so it’s fine.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” 

“Yes, I promise” i said 

“Okay good, I feel bad” she said

“Don’t be, it’s my fault I decided to join a day earlier” 

“We have a few activities for date night so we’ll be back pretty late, we’re leaving in an hour and maybe this will give you and Rutger time to finally get along” she said and I laughed. 

“Molly, Rutger and I have hated each other since we were kids. I don't think a few hours will change that.

“You never know, people change” she said with a wink, what the hell is she planning? I know my best friend, she’s definitely up to something.

She gave me one last hug and we made our way to Molly’s room so I could help her get ready.

“Can you pick out my outfit, please?” She asked while she does her makeup.

I nodded and made my way to her closet.

“What about this?” I asked, showing her a cute white v neck dress with purple flowers. 

“Oh I love that, thank you” she said happily. I chuckled 

“You’re welcome.” 

Once she was done with her hair and makeup she went and got dressed.

When she came out of the bathroom I looked up from my phone and smiled.

“You look beautiful,” I said.

“Thank you, now are you sure you’ll be fine here?” She asked.

“Yes, now it's almost 5:00 p.m.” I said.

We made our way downstairs where Josh, her boyfriend and her parents were waiting. 

“Hey Yn” Josh greeted me smiling.

“Hey Josh, have fun you guys” I said before they all left.

I have no idea where Rutger is, so I made my way to the kitchen to get something to eat.

I went to the fridge and took some grapes and put some in a bowl before making my way to the living room.

I put on Outer Banks on Netflix and sat down on the couch.

About 10 minutes later Rutger came in and sat on the other end of the couch. Neither of us said anything. 

A while later my phone started ringing. Rutger scoffed and looked at me annoyed.

I checked to see who was calling me, only to see that it was my ex boyfriend, I rolled my eyes and silenced the call. I put my phone next to me and continued to watch the show.

A few seconds later my rang again, I silenced it again, then he called again. 

“Oh my god, just answer the damn phone,” Rutger said, annoyed.

“No” I answered and silenced it.

When he called again, it pissed Rutger off, he gave me a look that said you better answer or I’m throwing your phone outside.

I answered and put the phone to my ear.

“What do you want?” I asked, pissed. Why the hell can’t he just leave me alone, I broke up with him a month ago because he was so controlling.

“I’m at the lake house, we have to talk so let me in” he said pissed. My eyes widened. No this can’t be happening, what the hell does he think he’s doing. 

“No chance in hell” I said angrily. Rutger raised his eyebrows at me, as to see what the hell are you talking about.

“You either let me in, or i get in on my own, your choice, I know Molly’s on a double date with her parents right now so I know you’re alone since Rutger would never stay alone with you” 

“What are you, a fucking stalker?” I said worriedly, I’m not alone, Rutger wouldn’t let anything happen to me right? Even if he doesn’t like me? 

I stood up and started walking, pacing back and forth.

“Yn, open the goddamn door,” he said.

My eyes widened and I stood still and looked at Rutger. He could tell something was wrong so he got up and snatched the phone out of my hands.

“What are you doing?” I asked worriedly, I don’t want Rutger to Provoke him and make him worse.

“Shush” he said pointing his finger at me to tell me to shut up. I closed my month and scoffed.

What are you doing Rutger.

“What” he said on the phone before he continued. “No she’s busy right now, and I suggest you don’t call her again and you better fucking leave” he said pissed before he hung up.

“What the hell did he say?” I asked when he gave me my phone.

“Don’t worry about it” he said, making his way to the door and looking outside. I scoffed and locked the front door.

“Is he still out there?” I asked worriedly.

“Yes,” he said before looking at me.

“Go to the kitchen and make sure the patio door is locked.” He told me. I nodded and rushed to the Kitchen.

I looked to see it was already locked. Thank god.

I made my way back to the living room to see Rutger still looking out the window.

“It was already locked,” I told him.

He looked back at me and nodded. I went and sat down on the couch again and paused the show that was still playing on the tv.

Rutger sighed and cane to sit down next to me.

“Was he always like this? Because I don’t remember him being like this last year” Rutger asked me. I shook my head and took a deep breath.

“No, it started a few months before our semester ended. Last month I had enough so I finally broke up with him.” I said looking at him.

I looked at his eyes, you could see sadness and anger in them, is he sad and angry about my ex's acting? or at me for letting this happen?

“I’d tell you to get a restraining order against him, but I don't know how well that will end up if he’s that bad,” rutger said, which made me chuckle.

“Yeah, I don’t know if it’ll work” i replied 

“It would still be better than nothing, especially since he also goes to Michigan” Rutger said, i groaned.

“Fuck, I should have said no boyfriend in college” I said and Rutger laughed.

I looked at him and smiled.

“Thanks by the way, for making him leave, i honestly didn’t think you would” 

Rutgers' eyes widened.

“Why would you think I wouldn’t help?” He asked, confused.

“Maybe because you don’t like me,” I scoffed.

“I never said I didn’t like you, and even if i didn’t it doesn’t mean I won’t help, I could tell you were scared Yn, i wasn’t going to let that go” he said

“First off you’re always rude to me, you’ve never been nice, it’s pretty clear you don’t like me” 

“Well I always liked you and I thought you were pretty even as kids but you’re Molly’s best friend so I thought it would be easier to just be mean” he said, my eyes widened. He liked me?

“What?” I was shocked.

“Why do you think Sierra hated you, it’s because she could tell, I liked you” he said chuckling.

I can’t believe this, first off there’s no way she would have stayed with Rutger for 5 years if she knew he liked me right?

“I’m pretty sure even Molly could tell, I know my parents did, Luca and Adam would tease me about it back at university” He continued.

“Oh my god, was this Molly’s plan all along?” 

“What plan?” He asked, confused.

“Did they already have a date night planned? Because when Molly told me about it and said that I would be alone with you, it was suspicious, I could tell she was hiding something, plus she was smirking and she even winked, she never winks” i said. Rutger laughed

“What’s so funny?” I asked confused 

“Knowing Molly probably, and i honestly don’t know how long this date night with my parents was planned I only found out about it this morning” he said

“I knew she was up to something, I just didn’t think it would be you confessing that you have a crush on me” I said chuckling.

“I think it’s more than a little crush.” He said

I raise my brows.

“Look, I really, really like you, is there any chance we could start over and I could take you out on a date?” He asked with a smile.

“Only if you promise never to be rude to me ever again” I replied smiling.

Rutgers smile grew.

“I promise” 

“Good, then I would love to” I replied

“It’s only 7:15 p.m. right now, any chance I could take you out for ice cream, we could go for a walk on the beach and talk? Could that count as a first date?” He asked and I chuckled.

“I could go for ice cream and for a walk” 

“Perfect, let’s go,” he said, smiling. He grabbed his car keys and we made our way to his car.

Rutger drove to a spot close to the beach where they have an ice cream booth. Rutger ordered for the both of us, once he got mine he gave it to me, making me smile.

“You know my favorite ice cream?” I asked

“See I never hated you” he said, making me giggle.

We walked down to the beach, and walked by the water. 

We talked about our lives, it was actually really nice getting to know the real Rutger and not the rude one. 

I had fun. 

When he pulled in the driveway of the lake house. His parents' car was back, which means Molly will have a lot of questions.

“Any chance we can do this again?” He asked.

“I’d like that,” I said, smiling.

“I can’t wait… can I kiss you?”

“Yes” I replied.

Rutger leaned against the consol put his hand on my cheek before our lips met. Our lips moved in sync, before we pulled away breathing heavily.

“Wow” he said smiling, I started giggling.

“We should probably go inside before Molly comes looking for us” I said.

“Good idea”

When we walked in everyone was in the living room. Molly looked at us and smirked before looking at her dad.

“Dad pay up, I told you he’d finally tell her” she said, making everyone laugh.

This summer is finally off to a good start.

[puck-luck]

new beginnings | may 27 - june 2

note: before i start this, i just want to warn y'all that it's 24.4k. if you want to read this in one sitting, i recommend locking in.

please hit me up in my inbox to give me feedback! or your thoughts! or speculation on what's coming next! i want you guys to talk to me all the time and tell me every thought you have. if i could send each of you the google document and force you to leave comments, i would.

also, i think by the time this fic is finished, it might be long enough to be a novel. should we all work together to get it published?

1:90 – TREVOR

“Do we really think it’s a good idea to spend the summer down here instead of the Michigan house?” Jack asks. “We own that one, after all.”

“Everyone knows about the Michigan house,” Trevor points out.

Cole, who had plotted this with Trevor after last summer’s debacle, sighs. “We can’t keep having the same conversation. We decided that we would train at the Checkers’ rink when we can get down to Charlotte and use the cement slab as our own rink in the yard of the rental house in the meantime. So that’s not your problem. So, what is, Jack? You’re gonna miss the girls?”

Jack fixes Cole with a cutting glare. “Fuck off.”

“You know, there are girls in North Carolina,” Cole says, a grin dimpling his cheeks. “Sweet, southern belles, even.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “I can’t wait for the rest of the goons to get here. We’ll put it to a fucking vote and I’ll get to go home.”

“If you want to go home so bad, why don’t you?” Trevor asks. “We’re not forcing you to be here.”

“You triple-belted me in the backseat,” Jack argues. “You’re taking me away from Michigan and you can’t even let me have shotgun.”

“Talk, talk, talk,” Trevor mocks. “You have hands. And fingers. You’re not helpless.”

Jack huffs from his spot in the back, stubbornly turning his head to the right to watch the trees pass. Cole does the same from the passenger seat, tapping his fingers along the pane of the window.

There are twenty miles, an hour total, still on the GPS. Trevor hasn’t seen a town since they stopped at the gas station at the bottom of the mountain, the closest city being Winston-Salem almost an hour and a half ago, barely more than sparse houses and fields in the time since. They’re driving along a stream now and the latest exit off this small, two lane highway said “Love Valley.” Trevor snickers at the sign and goes to point it out to Jack, but Jack beats him to it.

“Don’t, Z.”

“It’s funny, dude.”

“It’s not, though.”

Cole cranks the volume up, drowning out the continuing argument that floats forward from the backseat. 

They drive on and Trevor thinks about it– everything. They have three unobscured months in Litchton, the only people knowing about their whereabouts are their families and coaches. The goons, as Jack referred to them, would be joining them sometime in the next day or two. Quinn and Luke had to wrap up some loose ends at home (Quinn, closing up his apartment for the summer; Luke, visiting some college friends as their semester comes to an end.

Litchton was the safest bet and Krebs had mentioned North Carolina to Trevor in passing the one time they caught up throughout the year, heaving heard from Leschyshyn that the mountain towns of his home state were notoriously quiet and drama-free and that their inhabitants, although lovers of gossip, kept to themselves. 

After those girls had snuck into the Michigan house at the end of the summer and started showing up wherever the boys went in the evenings, Trevor just wanted a summer off. He wanted time with his friends the way they used to have it, just working out together and drinking until they dropped, swimming and parading around the town like normal guys in their early twenties. 

In Litchton, they could pretend to be guys that were home for the summer, ready to start some corporate finance or everyday-tie job. It was a look into what could’ve been, had they not dedicated their lives to their sport. 

For three months, he gets to be Trevor Zegras, the kid who complained about his name being last on the roster in every class growing up and the kid who worked in his mom’s store after school. But he’s also Trevor Zegras, NHL superstar, ninth overall pick, owner of the best Michigan goal in the United States, so he might toss his name around in Litchton this summer. Just to see if it gets him anything.

If it doesn’t, his good looks certainly will. What’s flirting with a few old ladies on the street? It’ll be the highlight of their year.

Trevor misses the driveway the first time the car passes it. It’s hidden by brush and along a curve. The GPS reroutes them– but they have to drive an extra fifteen minutes along this road before they can turn around. 

They drive into a small town, a strip of eclectic stores littering the main road. There’s a small grocery store with a fruit stand out front that Cole points to.

“We could pick up some food while we’re out here,” Cole suggests. Upon hearing Jack’s mouth open in the backseat, he continues, “Just so we don’t have to come back later.”

Jack slouches against the backseat, huffing about being cut off at the opportunity to express his discomfort. 

“Jacky, will you relax? We’re going to have fun this summer.” Trevor tells him, turning into the parking lot and choosing a spot close to the entrance. 

Cole laughs when Jack unbuckles his three seatbelts in the wrong order and has to untangle them. Trevor flips the mirror down and fudges his hair, fluffing the ends. He had gotten it cut just before they left for this trip, so the edges were still even and sharp. 

Jack is the first to exit the car, practically throwing himself onto the pavement with his excitement to leave the vehicle behind, if only briefly. They’d been driving for hours. Cole flew into New York from Montréal, so Trevor had to pick him up from the airport. They picked Jack up in Jersey in the early morning and started driving south. 

Trevor can’t blame Jack for his annoyance. They’ve been in the car with him for ten long hours and they forced the first stretch of driving on him, having spent about two hours in the car before getting him. He had just woken up and had to drive four hours through the traffic of Philly and into Baltimore. He napped while Cole drove down through most of Virginia, and then woke up grumpy anyway when Trevor took over to take on North Carolina. 

It’s been a long fucking day.

They shop together, but they bicker quietly. After years of friendship, their arguments seem more like brotherly spats. The knowing smiles from the women in the grocery store prove that they’ve heard encounters like this before, likely in their own homes. 

Eventually, Trevor rolls his eyes and goes to sit in the car. He leaves Cole and Jack to pay for the groceries. Upon leaving the store, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and pulls up Instagram, hoping to catch up on the posts that he had missed on the long drive.

Walking past the fruit stand out front, Trevor bumps into someone and he stumbles back.

“I’m sorry,” Trevor apologizes, reaching out and steadying the girl with a touch to her elbow. “I didn’t see you.”

“Hard to see me when you’re on your phone,” she replies with a tilted smile. 

Trevor lets out a little laugh at her reply, barely a breath. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

She nods with an approving hum and turns back to the stand, picking up a peach and turning it over in her hand. 

Trevor turns and walks to the car, climbing into the vehicle and settling behind the wheel. He watches the sliding door for his friends, but his eyes drift back to the girl.

She’s tied a red bandana in her hair and she slips peaches into her mesh bag. She talks to the vendor, using her hands to speak. She’s pretty, he realizes, far prettier than the girls he knows from California. The vendor hands her a basket of strawberries, which she takes carefully, inspecting the red berries by twisting the basket’s handle from side to side, spinning it. Trevor can see her profile this way– the slope of her nose, smooth. Her eyelashes, long. Her lips, pink and pursed into a little smile. Her stance is tilted, one hand on her hips.

Trevor is back outside the car before he can think. He approaches her as she pays for her fruit, standing behind her when she turns around.

She jumps when she sees him. “You’re still here?” She asks.

“No, but I’m back,” Trevor replies, realizing just how lame he sounds. “My friends and I are staying here for the summer and I just wanted to introduce myself.”

When he falls silent after explaining himself, she looks at him expectantly. He can see the bottoms of her teeth as her lips part. “So introduce yourself.” She gestures for him to go on.

“I’m Trevor,” he says, sticking his hand out. “My friends call me Z.”

Her eyes drop to his hand briefly. She considers it before reaching up and taking his hand, shaking it. “Why?” She asks.

“My last name starts with a Z,” Trevor supplies. “Zegras.” The smile he gives her is strained, expecting her eyes to light up in recognition. They do, but it’s not in the way he expects.

“You’re Greek?” She asks, her interest piqued. 

“Yeah,” Trevor replies. “But not, like… Greek. I’m from New York, but I live in California now.”

At the mention of California, her face stiffens. She hums disapprovingly. “Got sick of the West Coast, I take it? Is that why you’re back east this summer?”

Trevor flounders for a moment. “I love California, but the guys and I always spend our summers together. Usually we’re in Michigan.”

“So y’all travel all around, huh?” She asks. She doesn’t sound impressed, which makes Trevor nervous. In fact, she sounds almost disdainful, but the look on her face appears as though she’s holding back a laugh. Whether that is at his expense, he doesn’t know.

“We’re very lucky,” Trevor confirms, nodding tightly. “Most of our travel is for work, though. We all work in the same industry and it involves a lot of, um, business trips.”

“Business trips?” She asks, letting the laugh overtake her this time as she looks him up and down. “You?”

Trevor looks down at his own outfit, the basketball shorts and loose t-shirt. They’re two of the few clothes he owns that are not branded with the Ducks logo. He scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “We’ve been driving a while and I wanted to be comfortable.”

“You certainly look comfortable,” She agrees with a nod, her grin knowing and wide.

“I didn’t catch your name,” Trevor says with a similar grin, shuffling forward just a step now that he’s got her smiling and laughing.

It’s then that Cole and Jack exit the grocery store, each with a hefty load of grocery bags on their arms. They’re laughing, so it appears Cole has managed to cheer up the sullen Jack in Trevor’s absence. Trevor watches the girl’s eyes leave his, drawn to the movement and volume of his two friends. He curses them in his mind, watching as they find him and decide to approach.

“I thought you were warming up the car, Z,” Jack accuses, his eyes flickering between Trevor and the girl. “D’you get distracted?”

Trevor bites his tongue before forcing a smile on his face. He turns back to the girl. “These are the some of the friends I mentioned, Jack and Cole. The other ones, Jack’s brothers, aren’t here yet.” Trevor knows he’s overexplaining, but he can’t help it. Something about this girl has him awkward and tongue-tied, yet his tongue can’t stop forming words and pushing them out.

“Yeah, your business partners.” She rubs a hand over her face, smoothing out the half-smile that was clearly keeping a laugh at bay. “Are they also from California?”

Cole snorts. “Business partners?” He repeats. “From California? No way. You’d never catch me dead in Anaheim, unless we’re playing there. Believe me, I’d be on the quickest flight back.”

“I just said we all worked in the same industry,” Trevor corrects, throwing on his most charming smile to try and salvage the situation. He wasn’t lying, but this girl might think he is, and that would be disastrous. He doesn’t know why, but it would be. He wants her to think highly of him and now he’s made two bad first impressions.

The second one is his friends’ fault, of course.

And she does think he’s lying– Trevor can tell by the way she looks him up and down, then Cole, then Jack. Her eyes squint imperceptibly at Cole’s mention of “playing” in Anaheim, rather than working. It was a statement that could have extended the conversation, but this girl seems to decide that she is uninterested.

She nods sarcastically, then scoffs quietly. “I have to go,” she says. “It was nice to meet you, Trevor. Have fun in Litchton this summer, boys.”

“Oh, we will,” Jack assures her. Trevor hates how his eyes rake over her, combing through each detail of her skin, her clothes, and her hair.

“Nice meeting you!” Cole calls after her as she walks away.

Both boys turn to Trevor, equally annoying smiles on their faces. 

“Shut up,” he hisses before they can say anything. 

“Who was that?” Cole asks.

“I didn’t get her name,” Trevor growls through gritted teeth. “She was just about to tell me and then the two of you showed up.”

“Boo-hoo,” Jack teases. “So you won’t be the first to bed a girl this summer, for… how many summers in a row is it now, Coley?”

Cole’s laughter breaks his face, but Trevor interrupts before he can speak.

“It’s not even a real competition, Jack. You only act like it is because you fuck the same girl every summer as soon as we get to the lake house. It’s trashy.”

“Being a winner isn’t trashy, Trev. In fact, maybe I should go follow after the girl you were just chatting up. I’ll show her how a real man flirts.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Trevor feels a flare of anger well up inside of him when Jack insinuates taking this girl for himself. It should be anger about questioning Trevor’s manhood, but it is not. “Get in the car.”

He stalks off, starting the car this time and situating himself behind the wheel. Jack vies for the passenger seat unsuccessfully, souring his mood yet again. Despite Cole’s smaller stature, Jack is the one left in the backseat with the bags of groceries around him. Soon, Trevor’s shirt joins him after a misguided throw to the trunk of the car where their luggage resides.

When they arrive at the house, Jack only carries the groceries inside. He claims he’s been stilted all day and Trevor can’t really do much to prove otherwise. Cole carries in his and Jack’s luggage into the home– a rental that Trevor paid good money to book for the entire summer. 

“I get the best room!” Trevor yells after them. “I paid for it! I want the ensuite bathroom!”

“Go fuck yourself,” Jack replies. He’ll leave the room for Trevor to take anyway. 

The three boys had planned this ahead of time. They would be in Litchton the whole summer, so they will take the three bedrooms that have king beds. Quinn and Luke will take the queen beds in the other bedroom, and the various guests throughout the summer will take the bunk beds in the basement. From the pictures alone, Trevor realizes that the house could sleep more than ten people. If they can find ten people, maybe they could throw a party. 

and invite that girl, Trevor thinks.

He’s taken aback by the thought and its suddenness. He doesn’t even know her name or if he’ll see her again– so why is he thinking of her?

Trevor shakes the thought and grabs his bags from the back of the car. He used an extra practice bag from the bottom of his closet in Anaheim to pack his clothes for the summer, so he has a free hand to open the door that Cole closed behind him. 

He finds the big bedroom easily and drops his bag in the closet, not bothering to unpack. He looks out the sliding door onto his porch, the wrap-around that encircles the entire back of the house. His porch holds two rocking chairs and a wooden bench. The house is built out of wood– almost overwhelmingly so– and the decorations match. His bedframe, his dresser, his bedside table, his small desk, the fan, even the blinds on the window… all of them are made of wood. 

His bathroom has double sinks and a granite countertop. The handles are gold in color, but likely not in material. The spout of the sink is more like a water spigot that one might find outdoors, but it’s classy. When Trevor enters his bathroom, he’s in awe of the jacuzzi tub and shower on the other side of the room. 

The tub and shower are both built from dark marble, bespeckled with lines of darker ore. The tub has wooden cabinets beneath the feet of marble on either side of the tub, which holds towels and toiletries on the right and left respectively. The tub has jets and a handheld spout that’s detachable. Trevor considers them. He can think of a use for both.

The shower is spacious with an overhead spout, wide and fancy. It has ledges for toiletries, as well as a seat in the corner. The door is glass and there is a hook for towels next to the opening. The shower stands from ceiling to floor, completely confined. Despite the windows to the side of it, the occupant of the shower would be completely hidden from sight, once the glass door steams up. 

Trevor explores the house further, but doesn’t take up residence anywhere. Cole and Jack seem to have put the groceries away while he found his room and looked around. Now, they’re nowhere to be found. They’ve likely taken up residence in their bedrooms for the night, tired from their eleven hour drive.

Lord knows Jack needs sleep before he braves this vacation. He always gets grumpy when he’s tired, part of the reason why he naps prior to every game. 

Trevor is glad that all of the boys can make it up for the summer. He can’t wait to get things started.

2:90 – HONEY

She wakes with the sunrise, as she does every Tuesday. It’s her first day of the week at the bookstore and she has to open. The Reading Nook is always closed on Mondays and she is one of three workers– the owner, Ada and her best friend since childhood, Bea. Ada opens the store on Thursday, whereas Bea opens it on Friday. Every other day of the week, the responsibility falls on her.

She makes her coffee and drinks it on her couch, looking out the window towards the mountains in the distance. It’s clear today and she can see the rows of mountains clearly– ten rows back. Once, her father had told her that if you could count ten rows back, you were looking at the mountains across state lines. If you could count ten mountains, then you could count all the way to Tennessee. 

She believed him, until she realized that the sun always rises behind those mountains. She faces east. Tennessee is to the west.

Still, the memory comes with fondness. It was before she moved away from home to pursue a life of quietness in the mountains, her favorite place in the world. Those days are long in the past. She has no interest in returning to them, given how far she’s come. The only person from her hometown that was welcomed into this new life was Bea and she has proven time and time again that she is deserving of that role.

Not only did they grow up together, but she got her nickname because of her friendship with Bea. As children, a long-forgotten teacher had made a comment about the two being attached at the hip, stuck together like glue. She had corrected herself with a laugh, evidently feeling clever when she said: “No, more like a bee to honey, right, girls?” From that day on, she had only gone by Honey and Bea had shortened her name from Beatrice to keep the analogy. 

She drives to The Reading Nook and unlocks the store, wiping the counter and sweeping the main room while she waits for her regular patrons to enter the store.

On Tuesdays, the “founding” women of Litchton convene in the bookstore and knit. Some days, Honey joins them. Others, she just wishes to sit and read at their table, listening in on the gossip of the week. The women are not so much founders as the grandmothers who lived in Litchton since their birth, having married and worked and raised families here. They are true Appalachian women– driven by superstition and fantastical solutions, lovers of a good story, and wonderful bakers who only crave to share their gift. They are churchgoers, often multiple times a week, and headstrong believers in their chosen politician. These are the attributes that Honey does not share with the women– she was an outsider, although she has been welcomed into the Litchton society since moving here. She attended church when the ladies asked her to, usually for the rare wedding or baptism. Rarer for a funeral, luckily. Honey does not feel any particular way about politics, at least not out loud, and she’s lucky that the ladies try to reserve that topic for the debates of their husbands over dinner parties, not the knitting circle on early Tuesday mornings.

Sacha is the first to arrive to the bookstore that morning, armed with blueberry muffins in a tupperware that Honey will have to wash in the little sink in the back while the women are knitting. Sacha has left one too many tupperwares and bowls in The Reading Nook and Honey won’t allow her to leave another behind. 

Honey plates the muffins for Sacha while the elderly woman secures the long table in the store for her friends. It does not take long for Scarlett, Gillian, Vera, and Rosalind to join. The women each knit their own project, waking up over coffee and muffins before the gossip starts.

It begins with Vera’s son’s divorce, something she had been dreading since he proposed to his soon-to-be ex-wife while they were still students at NC State. They had moved to Raleigh permanently, an action that Vera believes started this whole thing. When her son left home, and his wife finally revealed that she didn’t want children, Vera knew it was over. Or so she said. Honey thinks that she’s just butthurt about her son fleeing the nest… ten years ago. She wonders, briefly, if her own mother feels this way about her.

Honey shakes herself out of her thoughts as soon as Scarlett introduces the next topic, the topic that Honey knew was coming since the night before.

“Did you see those young men at the store yesterday? I know you always do your shopping on Monday evenings, Rosalind.” Scarlett tilts her head like she’s conspiring with Rosalind, like Rosalind has been holding information from the group.

Rosalind nods, eyes glinting behind her wired glasses. “They were such handsome boys. Lord, I tell you, if I were a young lady nowadays…”

She trails off and Honey stifles a laugh, looking down at the counter. She can feel the ladies’ eyes on her, no doubt hoping that the mention of boys piques her interest. Honey knows how these ladies were in their day– boy crazy but also efficient, looking for the perfect match and settling for no less. All of them prevailed, although from their complaints, you would never know their husbands were the loves of their lives.

“Ladies, you know this conversation would be better suited for Bea,” Honey teases. 

“Bea is too forthcoming, you are still somewhat of a mystery.” Gillian lifts an eyebrow. 

“Where is Miss Bea?” Vera asks. “Wasn’t she supposed to be here half an hour ago?”

Honey doesn’t stifle her laugh this time. “Miss Vera!” She exclaims. “It is a Tuesday morning. You know Bea has no interest in showing up to work for at least another hour.”

Vera shakes her head. “You and Ada have got to stop allowing her to show up so late.”

Sacha laughs. “As if they could stop her if they tried!”

All of the women, and Honey, laugh at the joke. It’s well established in Litchton that Bea is the tardy sort, whereas everyone else prefers to be early or on time. Bea has the attitude of a city girl, to quote the old ladies, but the work ethic and priorities of a Litchton woman. She likes her men, she likes her job, but she loves a nice lay-in.

“Besides,” Honey tells the women, hesitating with a coy smile before dropping the bomb of information: “I’ve already met those men.”

The effect is instantaneous. All of them drop their knitting onto their laps and gasp. Gillian clutches at her chest, always the most dramatic of the quintet. 

“My darling,” Rosalind marvels.

“Well?” Scarlett questions. “How? When? Tell us everything.”

Honey moves from behind the counter to an empty seat at their table. She sits next to Sacha, the woman taking her hand and holding it tightly. 

“You ladies seem to forget that I go to the fruit stand outside the store on Monday evenings,” Honey begins. “Which is where I ran into them. Literally, too– one of them had his nose buried in his phone and bumped into me. He could’ve knocked me over!”

“You should have fallen so that he could have helped you up,” Rosalind suggests. The women murmur in agreement.

Honey rolls her eyes. “I did not. He apologized, I told him that he only bumped into me because he was caught up in his phone, and he said he would be more careful next time.”

“Next time,” Gillian repeats, nodding. “So he wishes to see you again?”

“Turns out, ‘next time’ was about five minutes later, when I went to leave the stand and he was right behind me!” Honey reveals, purposefully lacing incredulity into her voice. She places a finger on her lips and widens her eyes, playing into the dramatics of the ladies as if to say “What do you think of that?”

The women gasp in time. 

“Which one was it?” Scarlett asks.

“I only saw the other two for a moment, so I don’t think I could describe them well enough to you,” Honey says. “The one I spoke to is named Trevor.” She pauses to roll her eyes before adding sarcastically, “But his friends call him Z.”

Scarlett and Rosalind nod and look to each other. 

“It must have been the one who left earlier than the other two,” Scarlett says. “With those awful tattoos.”

Honey bites back a giggle. Once a southern mother, always a southern mother. “He did have tattoos,” she confirms.

“You two would get along,” Vera suggests, not so subtly casting a glance at the leafy vines that crawl up Honey’s arm.

Honey goes quiet, glaring at Vera. She has worked to try and get the ladies to stop commenting on her body and habits over the past few years, but the ladies are stubborn and traditional in most senses.

“How long will they be here? Or were they just stopping through?” Gillian asks.

“They’ll be here all summer, so I’m sure we’ll get our fill of them.” With that, Honey effectively ends her role in the conversation. She returns to the counter and opens her book, pretending to read it.

She knew the ladies would have caught wind of the men’s arrival by now and would want to discuss it. She knew that the ladies would be interested in setting her up with one of these new arrivals. They were cute, she’d give them that. At a glance, any of the three could have been nice company at a brewery, but Honey wasn’t looking. She was perfectly content with finding herself and making her own life, even if it meant that she wasn’t finding a husband like most women in Litchton wanted her to do.

The other thing was this: Trevor hadn’t made the best first impression. He bumped into her, then startled her, then told her some story about business partners or colleagues that definitely was not true, and he was from California. He’s a yuppie, a hipster who probably enjoys the bustle of Los Angeles and can’t handle the slow, satisfying life of a small town. To her estimate, Trevor has got a week before he leaves Litchton for something more glamorous and fast-paced.

The ladies relay the news to Bea when she finally shows up for her shift, a travel mug of coffee in hand from which she sips throughout each tantalizing detail of Scarlett’s retelling. Upon Honey’s information, Bea’s eyes flicker knowingly toward the counter and Honey just shrugs. Bea’s eyes then narrow, accompanying a questioning tilt of her head. Honey shakes her head at that, and Bea lets it go.

“Well, I heard the reason that Mr. Mayes wasn’t at church last week wasn’t his hip acting up,” Bea says to the ladies when it’s her turn. That starts a whole new tangent for the knitting club, one that will keep them occupied and in their seats for a number of minutes. It gives Honey the time to slip into the back and cut up one of the peaches that she brought from home to snack on during work. 

The ladies leave The Reading Nook about an hour after Bea’s arrival, leaving the store empty except for the two girls and floaters looking for their next novel.

Bea leans against the counter with a smug smile, blinking innocently at Honey. 

“What do you really think about them?” She asks.

“I think they’re trouble,” Honey says. “They didn’t seem on the same page about their jobs, they don’t know anything about living in a small town, they travel a lot, and I think I saw one of them carrying a 48-pack of beer.”

“Are they cute?”

Honey fixes Bea with a stare that could put a stop to anyone else’s questions. Unfortunately, Bea is immune to Honey’s intimidation tactics and her sarcastic jabs. She sees right through them. Honey’s silence is another thing she sees through.

“Interesting.” She draws herself up to her full height. 

“I think you would find them cute,” Honey says.

Bea hums. “You can’t backtrack now. You said enough without saying anything at all.” She crosses her arms over her chest then leans back down onto the counter. “So, tell me, Honeybear,” she muses. Fortunately, she changes the topic. “Did you get my strawberries from the stand, or were you too enthralled by the pretty boy in front of you?”

“He wasn’t pretty.”

“Sure he wasn’t.”

Honey scoffs, then leaves to the back to grab the basket of strawberries. She does so carefully, not touching the strawberries in case she breaks out in hives like she did last time. Bea swears that more exposure to the fruit would “cure” her allergy, but Honey only picks up the baskets to humor her. Honey doesn’t think she’s missing out on much, being allergic to strawberries. It’s her peaches that she would miss, and the blackberry pie that Ada makes when her vines turn ripe. That’s something to look forward to– blackberry season is starting and Ada could show up with a pie any day now.

The day continues slowly, with Ada making an appearance to close down the shop with the girls and help unpack a new shipment of books. After they’re done, Honey and Bea head to their respective homes.

Honey curls up with her book in her bed and listens to some music before the soft noise of the background and the comfort of her blanket draws her to her sleep.

3:90 – TREVOR

They have to go to the hardware store today. 

Yesterday, the boys wasted the day, sleeping later than they have in weeks. They ate a late breakfast, which turned into their lunch. They played pool on the pool table, ping and beer pong on the foldable table, and sunbathed out on the porch. Cole watched lazily as Trevor and Jack tried to outline half of a rink in chalk on the cement slab. They never finished the other half of the rink.

Today, they have to go get some wood and tools to make the rink into a 3D structure so the pucks don’t go flying into the woods when they shoot them. Trevor and Cole are the ones who are supposed to go to the store– Jack has decided to stay behind and wait for Quinn and Luke if they show up while the other boys are at the store. 

A convenient excuse, even though the goons are planning to show up today. Trevor expects the brothers to try and weasel their way out of working on the rink, claiming that they’re too tired from travel or they need more time to unpack. The thing is, the boys are flying into Charlotte and renting a car for the summer so that there will be two at the house, so they’re only driving for like an hour compared to Trevor’s eleven. They have no right to be complaining, but they will likely enact a vote and outweigh Cole and Trevor because if the Hughes are anything, it’s lazy and loyal to each others’ laziness.

They’re very driven, but only when they choose to work. When it comes to hockey, they’ll work all day. When it comes to creating the hockey rink or putting together equipment, they would much rather watch. Jim spoiled them that way– he was always the builder of the family and the boys were left to go do whatever they wanted as long as they weren’t annoying their father.

Trevor and Cole put off the trip as long as they can, hoping that maybe the Hughes brothers will show up early and they can force them to go to the store before they can even get out of the car. 

When the clock hits two, Trevor decides that the waiting is useless. They could’ve done so much during the day instead of sitting around waiting, but no. He was lucky enough to sit around and do nothing all day and watch stupid daytime TV with Cole while Jack read his texts with his brothers out loud.

The hardware store would be heaven compared to this.

He leaves without Cole at first, driving slowly down the driveway until he sees Cole’s figure run out of the house and after the car. Trevor can imagine what he’s saying as he yells after the vehicle– something about not being left with Jack in case the other Hugheses show up, something about how Trevor is a dick. 

They follow the one road on the mountain up to the strip where all the stores are. The hardware store is just a few doors down from the grocery store, so they park in the same parking lot.

Cole and Trevor walk side by side, Cole’s eyes on his phone as they walk while Trevor takes in the brick walkway beneath them. Names are etched on some of the bricks– Jude Doyle, Frederick Lawson, Ansley Hood… Grandma. Trevor has seen stuff like this before, but there’s something different about these names being etched on the bricks of this small town. Everyone probably knew these people, or knew someone who knew them, when they died. It’s so personal.

When they reach the hardware store, Trevor holds the door open for a man leaving. They give each other a curt nod, just a passing glance. Trevor sees absolutely no recognition in his eyes and comments on it. Cole doesn’t care, and says so. Trevor punches his shoulder.

“Welcome in,” the elderly woman at the counter greets. “What are you boys looking for?”

“Hi,” Cole replies, a charming smile on his face. “Could you point me towards the power tools? I can find my way from there.”

The woman smiles and points toward the back of the store. “They’re on the left, sweetie.” She turns to Trevor. “And what about you?”

“We’ll be needing some plywood,” Trevor says. “We’re building a little roller rink.”

“Oh, how fun!” The lady, named Vera if her nametag has any truth to it, claps her hands. “How much do you need, dear?”

“How much have you got?” Trevor asks. 

Vera waves her hand. “I don’t know. I’ll call Earl, he’ll send you off with what you need.” She turns and takes a breath before shouting the man’s name. Trevor’s heard that shout before– his grandmother used to do the same thing with his grandfather. 

The balding, age-spotted man appears at the door to the back of the shop. “I done told ya I have my hearing aids in, woman,” Earl grumbles to his wife, fond and mean and familiar in the way that only a couple who has been married for fifty years can be. 

Vera smacks Earl’s arm as he ambles by her. Earl pulls his arm away and puts another foot between them. 

“What do you need, young man?” Earl asks.

“Lots of wood,” Trevor says. “A couple of sheets of plywood and some 2x4s, maybe?”

“Boy, you do not think I have all’a that laying around.” Earl fixes Trevor with a stink-eye. 

“Don’t you tell him that!” Vera chimes in. “I know you’ve got plenty of wood out back because you bought all of it and never finished our damn basement.”

“I’m going to finish it!”

“Earl, you’ve been saying that for thirty years, you ain’t never finishing the basement.”

Trevor wants to laugh at the absurdity of this conversation. He wants to laugh at this domestic argument and how unreal it is that it’s unfolding in front of him. Instead, he clears his throat. “Excuse me,” he interrupts gently. “I don’t know if I want thirty year old wood for this. We’ll be hitting pucks off the boards all day and I’d like to keep the pucks inside the rink, please.”

“You’re a hockey boy?” Earl questions with a raised brow. When Trevor nods, he lets out a grunt. Trevor can’t tell what that means. Nonetheless, he waves Trevor to follow him into the back.

Trevor squeezes past Vera– she pinches his butt, he thinks– and catches a glimpse of her knitting under the counter when he walks by. She’s knitting something green. It’s too bundled up for him to tell what it is, though. Maybe he’ll ask later.

When he enters the back room, Earl gestures around. “Take your pick of the wood and make a pile over there–” he points to the corner– “and you can drive around back and we can put the wood in your truck there.”

“Oh, I didn’t drive a truck down,” Trevor says before he can help it. Earl makes a face. “But my friend and I can carry the piles ourselves to the car, don’t worry about that.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Earl gripes, shuffling away to sit at a bench with a circular saw and a half finished product on the table. 

Trevor sifts through the wood, all neatly arranged into piles of similar sizes– but labeled completely wrong. Trevor thinks that Earl might’ve refused to follow Vera’s labels when she first put them up in the shop, but realized that they’re more helpful than harmful. He’s just petty enough of an old man to ignore the labels, but follow the categorization.

Trevor ends up with a pile of ten sheets of plywood– four that are as long as lunch tables, and six that are just squares. Those will go behind the goals, while the long ones will go around the sides of the slab. He picks up a couple of 2x4s, just in case he needs them, and throws them on the pile with a clatter.

“I’m going to go grab my buddy,” Trevor says to Earl.

Earl grunts, but doesn’t budge. He also doesn’t look up from his station.

Cole is chatting up Vera when Trevor rejoins them. He’s leaning over the edge of the counter, asking about Vera’s knitting and her grandchildren. He’s got a bag of goodies next to him– powertools and nails, Trevor assumes. 

“Coley, come help me,” Trevor interrupts.

“No manners, this guy,” Cole says to Vera, scoffing and pointing his thumb at Trevor with a shake of his head. 

“Well, don’t keep the bear waiting,” Vera replies. Trevor watches her pinch Cole’s ass as he passes, but Cole just laughs and bats her hand away.

Fucking annoying. Always so good with the grandparents.

“The bear?” Trevor asks once Vera is out of earshot. “Is that me?”

Cole smirks. “We’ve got nicknames.”

Earl looks up when they reenter the back. He lets out a laugh, just a short bark. “This is your friend who’s going to help you carry all that wood?”

As the smirk falls off Cole’s face, Trevor picks it up.

“I can carry some wood,” Cole insists. “Probably all of it. I’m stronger than Z is, anyway.”

Earl’s gaze slides over to Trevor. “Z,” he repeats. “I hope you don’t stick with that one.”

Trevor laughs. “You sound like–” he cuts himself off. He never did learn her name, anyway. What’s it to this old man, who he sounds like?

Cole picks up on it though. “Like who, Z?” He asks with a tilt of his head.

Trevor glares at him. 

“I don’t give a rat’s ass who I sound like and I don’t want to hear your smug little bickering,” Earl admonishes. “Get your wood and get outta my shop.”

Trevor laughs in Cole’s face, then pushes him over towards the pile of wood. “Go on, strong man.”

Cole makes like he’s going to throw a punch at Trevor– Trevor doesn’t flinch, because he hasn’t fallen for that since their first stint on the US team– and puffs up his chest before deciding to pick up the long pieces of wood.

“Compensating for something?” Trevor asks.

“Go fuck yourself,” Cole replies cheerfully, turning on his heel and swinging the wood around with him, hoping to hit Trevor in the stomach. Trevor jumps away.

He picks up the rest of the wood and follows Cole out of the shop, bidding Earl a quiet farewell.

Earl grunts.

Trevor nods to himself, not surprised by the response. Vera is much more sad to see them go, gushing over how strong they are and telling them to come back soon. 

“What’s your nickname?” Trevor asks suddenly, as they load the wood into the back of the car.

Cole grins, crooked and smug. “Sweetie.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Oh, I assure you, I’m not. I’m a real hit with the ladies.”

“Yeah, you’re a real fucking hit with the married seventy year olds,” Trevor scoffs. “Don’t fucking talk to me, dude.”

Cole laughs, tossing his head back. He looks over Trevor’s shoulder. “Hey, isn’t that your girl?”

Trevor spins around. “Where?” He asks, looking to his left and right. 

When Cole starts cackling behind him, Trevor takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “I’m gonna fucking kill you, dude.”

“Bear, you wouldn’t know what to do without me.” Cole pats Trevor on the chest before rounding the car, settling in the passenger seat.

“Fucking passenger princess,” Trevor seethes. 

“You wish you were me.”

“I fucking don’t.”

“The more fucks you say, the more fucks you give.”

“Fuck off.”

They drive back to the house in silence, Trevor’s knuckles white as he deliberates driving off the mountain and taking Cole with him. There are pros, certainly, the top one being that Cole would no longer be part of this vacation. The cons, unfortunately, outweigh the pros: without Cole, Trevor would be alone with the Hughes brothers all summer, except for the occasional visiting savior.

Quinn and Luke have arrived by the time the duo returns to the mountain house. They brought with them another SUV, this one only slightly bigger than Trevor’s vehicle. It’s got a third row of seats, but it’s cramped– they’ll definitely have to take both cars down to Charlotte when they go to practice. Because of the limited trunk space in Quinn’s rental car, Trevor’s car will likely end up being the gear car. 

Which is lucky, because who wouldn’t want to spend three hours total in the car with smelly gear while the other car gets to have fun and smell nice?

On second thought, the time alone might be good for Trevor. He loves his friends, he really does, but it’s hard to be around them for so long. He’s lucky that they’re all on different teams, that they keep up when they can, and that it’s not constant. Jack can’t escape his brothers, especially not Luke, but Trevor can escape all three of them.

He spends the evening building the outdoor rink, mostly alone. Quinn helps a little bit, mostly chalking up the lines on the remaining half of the slab. He holds the wood for Trevor while he screws some nails into the pieces to keep them in place. They work mostly in silence, as they often do. Trevor is itching to talk with Quinn, see how he is, but he knows that Quinn is a man of few words. He also knows that Quinn is quick to say that Trevor talks too much. They’re at the point in their relationship where Trevor lets Quinn dictate how much they speak.

Luke tries to cook dinner, he does. Trevor can’t fault him for trying. Jack had to jump in to save them from burnt steaks and soggy vegetables, and even if he can’t salvage everything, he does a pretty good job. Luke apologizes and does the dishes. He’s quiet for the rest of the night, falling asleep on the couch during the movie they picked out, and Quinn wakes Luke like a good big brother and shoos him to bed. 

It’s more calm than the lake house, Trevor thinks. They’re not really doing anything differently, are they? And yet, here they are, sitting together in calm silence. They’re drinking bottled beer and laughing over the same jokes they’ve heard a million times, reminiscing about summers past and what they’ll do this summer. Quinn wishes for a lake. Jack tells him they’ll find one.

Trevor goes to bed when the movie ends, frogs croaking past his bedroom window in the depths of the night.

4:90 – HONEY

It’s a Thursday, so Honey gets to sleep in until nine. Sleeping in until nine means that she really wakes up at eight, because she just can’t sleep in late after working at the bookstore for five years now. She sits on her couch on Thursday mornings and reads. She does the crossword in the Litchton Local, the newspaper that comes out weekly on Wednesdays. 

There’s an immeasurable stillness in the mountains.

Honey noticed it the first time she came up to this house as a child. Everything moves, like the bugs outside and the leaves on the trees, but everything is so still. Like it’s being held in place by something bigger. She knows the feeling well, but it’s comforting here. 

At home, it was uniforms and piano lessons after school. She loves piano, even still, but there was something so crushing about the weight of her perfect posture on that bench when there was all the pressure of beauty breathing down her neck.

Home, Honey thinks again, and laughs. 

In the mountains, all of the beauty of the world is there and present and taking up space– but it’s not forced. It’s not the idealized version of everything. It just is.

And everything is so green, especially on a rainy day like this. Honey thinks there’s something sacred about the greenness of the mountains, but it’s the melancholic side of divine that leaves you waiting for another whisper or breath in the wind that never comes.

She used to have a piano that she could play in the mornings. She toted it to the antique store down the road when she made the mountain home hers. Sometimes, she wonders why she did that and regrets it, staring at the dents on the floor where its legs used to stand.

But then she remembers that she’s thinking about the past again and she shakes herself out of it. Five years later, but it’s hard to forget all of the things you grew up knowing.

Honey picks Bea up on the way to work, relishing in the girl’s consistent lateness because it allows her the chance to catch up with her friend. They see each other every day, yes, but the bookstore isn’t suited for some topics.

Such as Bea’s current woes:

“I’ve run out of dating app men,” she complains.

Honey bites back a smile. “Did you run out, or did you just swipe left on all of them?” She asks knowingly.

Bea cuts her eyes at Honey. “All the ones I swiped left on are ugly,” she says. “I can promise you that.”

“Is anyone good-looking in Litchton, Bea?”

Bea’s silence speaks for itself.

Honey laughs, her hair whipping around her face in the breeze from the rolled-down windows of her car.

“If I had known you were dragging me to the Ugly Capital of the World, I wouldn’t have come with you,” Bea announces, like it matters. She’s a liar. She wouldn’t have let Honey leave their hometown without her, no matter where she was going.

“You couldn’t turn it down, you had to come,” Honey replies. “Especially since they asked you to be Mayor.”

Bea gasps, affronted. She stares at Honey, her jaw hanging open. “Are you mad at me? Be honest.” She pouts, her voice whiny.

“Oh my God,” Honey groans, rolling her eyes. “No, I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay, well, stop being a cunt, please,” Bea sasses. If Honey were more annoyed, she’d reach out and slap Bea’s arm for the attitude. “We have to go to work and I need to put all my focus into pretending to like you.”

“Yeah, because it’s so hard to like me,” Honey says. Her voice is dripping with sarcasm, monotone and grating. 

“Yeah, it is, you suck.” Bea flips her hair over her shoulder, digging through her bag to find her Walmart lip gloss. She smears the cherry flavored gloss over her lips and puckers up, batting her eyelashes at Honey exaggeratedly. “Gimme a kiss.”

“No.” Honey pulls up to The Reading Nook and parks on the street in front of the building, parallel parking with the practiced ease of someone who’s been dealing with nothing but parallel parking (except in the grocery store and church parking lots) for the last five years.

“Ugh, one day you’ll kiss me,” Bea mutters, staring forlornly out the window. 

Honey rolls her eyes. “Bea, we’ve already kissed. You weren’t that good and I didn’t like your lip gloss then, either.”

Bea cringes. “That was like ten years ago, Hon. Things have changed since then. Number one, I’m not in middle school. Number two, I’ve had boyfriends and I’ve had sex since then. Number three, you know it wouldn’t mean anything. I want you to try my lip gloss so bad, come on.”

Honey stares. Bea’s got a stupid smile on her face, teasing and annoying. They hold each other’s eyes for too long before Honey speaks. 

“You’re insufferable, did you know that?”

Bea nods. “You are so easy to work up.”

Bea and Honey exit the car at the same time and enter the store through the front, the bell jingling behind them. Ada greets them from behind the counter, teasing Bea for being late again and threatening to cut her pay. She never will, never. Bea is too good with the kids, too happy to talk to mothers, and just dry enough to understand the miserly old man that walks through the door looking for a new World War I book. 

In the back, Ada has a bowl of biscuits and jam that Honey reheats and eats over the counter before she starts her day. 

She’s supposed to reshelve some books from their Borrow Before You Buy section, the part of the store that acts as the town’s public library. It’s a small task. The pile of books that were returned yesterday is less than a hundred. A good portion of the books are little kid chapter books, the kind you could finish in an hour as an adult because the font is so big and there are full-page pictures twice a chapter. 

Bea has to read to the kids at noon– some of the mothers bring snacks, like the end of a youth soccer game. It’s like a potluck lunch and the kids love Bea. Most weeks, it’s just her, but since it’s summer, she’s starting to bring in guest readers. Honey refuses to do it every time. Well, that’s not true– she acts as guest reader once a summer, right before school starts. It’s her one moment of the year. 

As she’s restocking the books, Honey hears the bell twinkle with each new customer that walks in. She’s grown used to the noise over the years, so it doesn’t draw her eye anymore.

What does draw her eye, however, is the blunt tap on her shoulder. When she turns around, Bea is blinking innocently at her– no doubt the offending hand in this scenario– with Trevor by her side.

“I was just talking to Trevor here, Honey,” Bea says. “And he was wondering if we had any books that a man his age might like. I thought maybe you should talk to him.”

Honey glares at Bea, purposefully obvious about it so that Trevor sees. What does she know about book recommendations for a man in his twenties? He probably wants some shit sports biography, or worse– he’s embracing his inner old man and he’s ready to venture into the world of World War I non-fiction. Either way, book recommendations are Bea’s thing, not Honey’s. She just stocks the books, builds the shelves, and bonds with the old ladies who come in on Tuesdays.

Bea shrugs with a coy little smile– Honey wishes she could slap it off of her face– and disappears behind the stacks. Honey can tell that she’s still listening from a few feet away, always nosy and overly interested in Honey’s exploits. If she can’t indulge in her own, she’s happy to butt in on Honey’s.

“Trevor,” Honey says, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn’t wear a bra today. She doesn’t trust him not to look. She also doesn’t trust her nipples not to peak in the cold air. 

“Is Honey your real name?” Trevor asks. 

She balks at him. “What is it with you and my name?”

Honey expects Trevor to back down, to act timid and normal and earnest like he did at the fruit stand on Monday. She expects him to apologize, yet again, for another inadvertent mistake that Trevor seemed unable to avoid. It’s because he doesn’t think– he just says the words as they come to mind, hoping that the sentence comes out fully formed and making sense.

And yet, he doesn’t.

“Just wanted to know what name I’ll be saying when I’m telling you to come,” is what Trevor answers. 

Honey gathers her wit quickly, scrambling to find a response to Trevor’s bold statement. She wants something clever, something to turn him down, something to tell him that he’s a cocky prick for saying such a thing while she’s at work, but she comes up with none of the above. Instead, she settles for: “It’s a nickname.”

A smirk tugs at Trevor’s lips and Honey wants to reach out and strangle him. He’s smirking because he thinks he bested her– bested her– and that he’s got the upper hand.

“What kind of book are you looking for, Trevor?” Honey changes the subject, trying to get back on task. She turns, continues restocking the Borrow Before You Buy shelves. 

“I’m not sure, Honey,” he replies, really milking his use of her name. “What kind of books do you think I’d like?”

She glances at him, looks him up and down. She tamps down a smile and says in a curt, monotone voice. “Guides on how to make the best of your business trip.”

Trevor laughs at that, more of a shake of his shoulders than a real laugh. “You’re funny, Honey.”

Honey raises her eyebrows and waits for him to continue.

“Hey, that rhymed. Maybe a book of poetry? I need to study my craft if I’m going to be waxing poems about you.”

He’s bold, she thinks. He’s really bold, much more sure of himself than he was on Monday. He’s much more confident, a sharp 180º from where he was the other day.

“Why don’t you keep your waxes to yourself?” Honey asks.

“How can I?”

She turns to him, planting a hand on her hip. “Don’t you have something to do today other than bother me at my bookstore? You don’t even know me. Why are you here?”

“I’m here to get a book. I’m not trying to bother you, I’m just trying to make conversation.” Trevor shoves his hands in his pockets and has the decency to look ashamed, even if it’s just for a split second and just to see if Honey will crumble. She knows his type. She’s seen them before.

“You’re flirting with me,” Honey accuses. “Not making conversation.” She puts air quotes around the last two words.

Trevor smiles. “You caught me,” he says simply, no shame evident in his voice. The smile stays on his lips as he and Honey look at each other. He raises his eyebrows and she takes it as a challenge.

“I’m not interested, Trevor.”

“I could show you a good time, Honey.”

“In Litchton?”

“Don’t you hear how good it sounds when I say your name? It’s like we’ve been hooking up for ages and I’ve got a special little name for you.”

“A name that everyone else uses.”

“It’s special to me.”

“How about a self-help book?”

Trevor clutches at his chest, jaw dropping in fake-misery. “You think I need help?”

“If you’re not going to buy a book, then you need to leave me alone.” Honey places the last book in her stack on the shelf and looks at Trevor expectantly. The silence sits between them, suspended for a moment.

“Do you have any books about space?” He asks. 

Honey notices that his voice is softer, a little more genuine. She examines his features, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She waits for the joke about not wanting space from her, needing her in his orbit, or whatever. It doesn’t come. She scans his figure one last time, realizing that her brow is furrowed and she’s chewing on the inside of her bottom lip as she does so. She smoothens her expression, hoping Trevor didn’t pick up on her calculating stare.

“How do you feel about creative nonfiction?” Honey asks.

Trevor scrunches his nose.

“Memoirs, personal histories, stuff like that,” Honey supplies. She softens her voice to match his tone. She almost feels a little shy. “We only have one book about space that I’ve read and it’s creative nonfiction, but it’s really good.” Quieter, then: “I liked it.”

Trevor nods, a little hesitant. This is the Trevor she met on Monday. “Okay.”

“Follow me.” Honey leads him to the nonfiction section, to the rows of books whose authors bear a last name that starts with ‘D.’ She runs her fingers along the titles of the books at the height of her chest while scanning the upper shelves. “It’s there,” she says, pointing to the row just out of her reach. “It’s by ‘Dean.’” She looks down, around her on the floor. “Where’s my step ladder…?”

“I can reach it,” Trevor says, stepping forward. He places a hand on the small of Honey’s back and reaches up, fingers hesitating as he searches for the right book. When he finds the spine bearing Dean’s name, he bounces up on his tiptoes for just a second to slide the book from its position on the shelf. 

Honey has never been more aware of a hand in her life. His touch is light, just a passing glance really, but it weighs on her. It’s like she’s standing in quicksand and she waited too long to try and get out.

He’s so close to her when he stands flat on his feet again. He’s got the book in one hand and his other still rests on Honey’s back.

She steps away.

His eyes follow her, but instead of saying anything, he just flips the book over in his hand. He reads the back cover and as he does so, Honey puts more space between them. She takes a breath, trying to stay quiet, and grounds herself.

“Is it really any good?” Trevor asks. “Do I have to buy it?”

“Yes, and, um.” Honey throws a look over her shoulder. She lost track of Bea while she and Trevor went to find this book. Fuck, her nosey best friend could be anywhere. “You can borrow it. We just usually give people a week or so to bring it back, and if you don’t, we track you down.”

“Track me down?” Trevor asks, chuckling. 

“Yeah.” Honey nods. “Small town. Everybody knows everybody, or knows somebody who knows everybody.”

“Stalking me, Honey?” Trevor teases.

“We’ve met twice, and both times it was because you came up to me. If anyone is the stalker here, it’s you.”

Trevor turns the book over in his hand again, looking down to avoid Honey’s gaze. “Leaving Orbit, huh?” He bites his lip and takes in the sight of Honey in front of him. He taps the book with his other hand. “I’ll let you know if it’s any good.”

“I know it’s good. I read it.”

“Baby, if you knew good, you’d be all over me.”

Honey scoffs. “Alright, fun’s over. Get out of here, Trevor.” She shoos him away, practically pushing him out of the shop. She sticks her tongue out at him through the glass after closing the door behind him. She watches him laugh, run his hands through his hair, and turn away.

‘Zegras’ is written in bold letters across his back, the number 11 in the center of his t-shirt. The detail catches Honey’s eye as she watches him walk away, down the street towards a car with a New York license plate that looks far too perfect and expensive to belong in Litchton. She bites the inside of her lip again, pondering. If anyone asks, she doesn’t care, but Trevor’s different than anyone she’s ever met. She wonders why.

But no, she doesn’t care.

Bea does.

“He plays hockey,” Bea announces, revealing herself. “He’s good, too. NHL. He was a top ten pick when he was drafted.”

Honey just nods. Twice. That’s all she needs. They’re small movements and she’s still chewing on her lip.

“What did he get?”

Honey clears her throat. “Just the, uh, Dean book about space.”

Honey can practically hear the face Bea makes behind her back. “You think he’ll enjoy that?” Bea asks. “It’s really personal.”

“It was the only book I could think of,” Honey replies with a shrug. She finally turns around to face Bea. “You’ve got to stop spying on me. I know you listened to our whole conversation.”

Bea pouts and stomps her foot, the sound echoing along the stacks around them. “How could I not?” She demands. “‘Just wanted to know what name I’ll be saying when I’m telling you to come?’ Honey, girl. Be serious.”

“Bea, you know I’m not looking for that right now.”

“You’re never fucking looking for that,” Bea hisses, pinching Honey’s wrist until she flinches away. “It’s falling into your lap and you’re pushing it out the door! What’s wrong with you?”

Honey glares at her with a tilted head. 

Bea relents. “One of these days, I’m going to kick your ass,” she threatens. “You can’t be a spinstery old maid forever, Honeybear. They’re only here for the summer. Maybe you should embrace it.”

“He’ll be gone within the week.”

Bea sighs. “Whatever you say.”

5:90 – TREVOR

“We need to throw a party,” Trevor says over breakfast.

“Why?” Luke asks, voice scratchy from lack of use. He yawns and runs his fingers through his hair, further messing up his already messy curls. He’s not wearing a shirt– none of them are– and Trevor is astounded by how pale Luke is. 

“We need to get you outside more,” Trevor mumbles, then clears his throat and continues speaking. “It’s like a housewarming thing.”

Unimpressed, Cole rolls his eyes. “Who do you want to invite?” He asks.

Trevor pauses, side-eying his friend. “Nobody,” he deflects. 

Quinn snorts, the spoon he’s using for his cereal clinking against the side of his bowl. “Not much of a party.”

“He wants to invite the girl that he met the other day,” Jack says, butting into the conversation. 

Luke frowns. “What girl?”

“Some townie that he met at the fruit stand when we went to the grocery store,” Jack explains. “He doesn’t know her name.”

“Her name is Honey, actually,” Trevor interrupts. 

The table stills. Each of the boys’ eyes turn towards Trevor and he suddenly feels like an ant under a child’s magnifying glass, boiling under the glare.

Cole pushes up an invisible pair of glasses and raises a finger, pursing his lips. “Actually,” he mocks, then drops the tone. “How do you know her name, Z?”

Trevor shrugs noncommittally. “I ran into her when I went into town yesterday.”

“Oh, when you were supposed to pick up laundry detergent and you came back with a book instead?” Cole asks. “That makes sense, much more sense than what Luke said.”

Trevor blanches. “What did Luke say?”

Jack snickers.

Trevor turns to Luke. “What did you say?”

Quinn smiles and hides his face, taking a large mouthful of his cereal to leave Luke hanging if he asked for help.

Luke flushes. “I mean, you know… that maybe you confused the two.”

“How the fuck would I confuse laundry detergent with a book?” Trevor snaps. “They’re two completely different things, fuckface.”

Luke throws his hands up in surrender. “We were just thinking of reasons why you might’ve come back without the one thing we needed.”

Trevor looks around the table. “You guys are such assholes.”

“Bro, you’re the one that forgot laundry detergent because you were too busy chatting up some chick,” Jack defends the group. “Now we can’t even do our laundry.”

“If it’s so fucking important to you, go get the detergent yourself!”

A smile breaks out on Jack’s face. “Maybe I will,” he says, his voice shit-eating. “I might need to grab a book for myself, too.”

Trevor’s anger increases tenfold, for no fucking reason. “The fuck you do,” he snaps. “You don’t even know how to read.”

Jack’s face twists, his emotions finally aligning with Trevor’s own. “Fuck you, dude. You know I can read, I just don’t like to.”

Trevor scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I just want to have a party,” he mutters, stabbing at his eggs with his fork. 

The boys fall into silence, finishing their breakfasts. Trevor pouts, frustrated that the boys weren’t immediately on board with his idea for a party. 

If they were in Michigan, the Hughes brothers would have the front door of the house unlocked past 10pm. The people they know from the golf course, from the lake, from the pickleball courts would all be pouring through the doorway and into the party. Everyone knows that on Saturday nights, the Hughes brothers invite people over and they have a big bonfire. Apparently, that only applies in Michigan.

Trevor leaves the breakfast table first, to jeers from the other boys about being pouty and bitchy for not getting his way. Trevor knows that he’s going to invite Honey and her friend– Bee? Bea? B?– over tomorrow night no matter what the goons say. There’s not much to do in Litchton, he knows that, so he doesn’t want to leave the girls out. Otherwise, they might just sit at home all night. Trevor can’t have that.

Obviously, that’s his only motive. He would never have any other reason to invite Honey and Bea over to the house at night. Never.

Maybe one other reason.

But that’s irrelevant. 

He spends the morning outside, using the extra wood from Earl to build a fire pit in the half-circle clearing near the edge of the forest. When they were younger, Trevor’s sister might’ve thought this area was where the fairies lived, and maybe she would have built them a house. He wonders briefly if Honey was the same way when she was a child, when she was growing up in rural Litchton with nothing else to do but imagine.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t know if Honey grew up here. She seems so intimately integrated into the town that she has to be from here, has to have grown up here. She must know all the town secrets and all the town gossip and fuck, Trevor wants to know all of that and more. 

He can’t explain the feeling he has about Honey. He’s just… drawn to her. It doesn’t make sense– he doesn’t know her. He’s barely met her. She did not exist in his life a week ago and yet, she’s popping up in his thoughts like they’ve known each other for years. Like they’ve been inseparable for years. When he thinks about it, he decides that Honey is like one of the girls he would have met in elementary school in Bedford. Honey is one of the girls that he would have grown up with, one of the neighbor girls from down the street with whom he rode his bike on hot summer days. 

She’s got a hometown charm feel to her. Trevor has to see her again.

He finishes building the wooden part of the fire pit before realizing how stupid it was to build the pit out of wood. A lightbulb seems to go off in his head, though, because it’s an excuse to go see her, to invite her to his party. He can go to the hardware store on the way, pick up some stone and gravel to line the wood, protect it from catching flame. He can pick up some firewood from the grocery store for their first fire and pick up the laundry detergent he forgot yesterday. Jack won’t be so annoying then.

Trevor doesn’t bother telling the boys where he’s going– he just gets in the car and drives away. 

It takes all of fifteen minutes to make his way to the bookstore. It’s still early, so he doesn’t even know if it’s open yet. Trevor and the boys are so used to waking up early for hockey that they’ve been up for about two hours and the whole day is still ahead of them.

When Trevor pulls at the front door of The Reading Nook, it doesn’t swing open the way it did yesterday. He knows the doors are easy on their hinges, considering how easily Honey slammed the door behind him yesterday, but today, the wood is barely budging. He knocks on the door, loud. 

Honey’s friend’s head peeks out from behind a stack, confusion written all over her expression. Trevor waves at her, gesturing at the door. She laughs, then approaches the door. She points down at the ‘Closed’ sign hanging near the handle.

Trevor tilts his head, unimpressed. “I have to talk to you,” he says through the glass.

Bea unlocks the door and opens it with a snorted laugh. “What’s up, Trevor? Honey’s not here yet.”

“I have a proposition for you.”

Bea steps aside and lets him into the store. “You want her.”

Trevor sputters at her honesty. “I don’t know her.”

“You want her,” Bea repeats with a nod and a knowing smile. “And you want to know how to get her.”

“Well, yes,” Trevor says. “But also, no. I wanted to invite you– both, you both– to a party tomorrow night.”

Bea smiles. She crosses her arms over her chest. “You want my best friend and all I get is some measly party? Come on, Trevor. What’s in it for me?”

Trevor thinks for a minute. “What do you want?”

Bea laughs. She pokes her tongue into her cheek and looks expectantly at Trevor.

“Whoa,” Trevor says, taking a step back. “That’s really… forward, but–”

“I don’t want you, Trevor,” Bea scoffs. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “So self-centered, Honey was right about that. But, I’ll help you get her and I’ll make sure we make it to your party if you give me what I do want.”

Trevor hums, narrowing his eyes. “What do you want?”

Bea smiles, devilish and conniving. “The dating pool up here is pretty dry, and I hear you’ve got a few friends.”

Trevor nods.

Bea blinks at him. “Do you have any pictures of these friends? I would’ve looked you up, but Honey and I swore off Instagram years ago.”

That makes sense. That’s why he couldn’t find Honey when he looked her up last night– not that he had much to go off of. Still, “Honey Litchton NC” didn’t reveal many results.

Trevor fumbles with his phone, showing her a picture of the group from last summer. He watches her fingers pinch and zoom in on the picture, on each individual. She keeps her expression neutral, a poker face that impresses Trevor. She hums, thoughts racing behind her eyes too quick for Trevor to understand them. 

“We’ll come to your party,” Bea says simply, handing the phone back to Trevor. She snatches it back at the last second. “Wait,” she says, and clicks around for a second. 

Trevor waits, then she hands the phone back. On the screen is a contact page for ‘Bea McLean.’ 

“It’s pronounced like McLane,” Bea tells Trevor. “Since you’re so obsessed with names.”

“Okay,” Trevor cuts her off with a sarcastic nod. 

Bea laughs. “Don’t get sassy with me, I have all the power here.”

“Yeah, but I have your number,” Trevor flaunts.

“I could just block you, easily,” Bea points out. “Then where would you be?”

Wisely, Trevor bites his tongue. After a deep breath, he asks, “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. Now get out, Honey’s supposed to get here soon and I don’t want her seeing you. She’s annoyingly on time. She’ll know we’re in cahoots.” Bea, much like her best friend did yesterday, pushes Trevor to the door and shoves him through it. She slams it behind him, flipping the sign so it says ‘Open’ instead, and waving Trevor off with a blown kiss.

she’s a flirt, Trevor thinks. those guys will not survive her for a second.

He doesn’t know which boy she has her eye on, but it doesn’t matter. Quinn’s too quiet for her, Luke is too awkward, Jack is too cocky, and Cole is too… short. 

Trevor snorts at the insult, laughing to himself. He heads to the grocery store, where he parked, and purchases two gallon bottles of laundry detergent and a Sharpie. He writes “JACK” on one and puts them both in the trunk of the car. Then, he walks to the hardware store. 

“Bear!” Vera greets from behind the counter, joints creaking as she moves from her chair behind the counter to give Trevor a hug. 

“Oh, Vera, you don’t have to come all the way over here,” Trevor says awkwardly, but hugs the woman back nonetheless.

“Of course I did!” Vera exclaims. “You look so handsome, young man.”

Trevor blushes, shying away from Vera’s examining fingers. She squints at the logo on his chest, one of his shirts from Anaheim. 

“I live in Anaheim,” Trevor explains to the woman, catching her hands in his and holding them securely in front of her body before letting go. “Do you have any stone that I could secure a fire pit with?”

“Yes, baby!” Vera claps and leads him to a section of the store that’s, somehow, even more peculiar than Earl’s workshop. There’s bags of gravel, sure, but it looks like fish food compared to some of the other bags and miscellaneous stones on the shelves. “Pick whatever you’d like. I’ll give you a discount for being so darn cute.”

Trevor chuckles. “I bet you give that to all your customers,” he teases.

“I had a local girl put it in the computer for me after we met you and Sweetie on Wednesday,” Vera teases back, batting her eyelashes. Her cheeks are red with blush, too much blush. “His discount is a little more because I see you’ve changed the body God gave you.”

Trevor follows her eyes to his tattoos. He rubs his opposite hand over them sheepishly. “Yes, ma’am.” He tries to smile charmingly. “Maybe I should’ve sent him to do the shopping today, since you like Sweetie so much.” He throws a wink into the mix to punctuate his sentence.

Vera laughs, a twinkling sound.

“Plus, it’d be cheaper for me,” Trevor says, like it’s a scandalous secret.

“I know that’s right!” Vera claps again, waves a hand at Trevor like she’s slapping her knee. She walks off, back to the counter, leaving Trevor to shop for his stones. 

He shops through the stones for about half an hour, choosing his favorites. He settles on a midsize gray stone, one that he can stack and seal with cement. He buys the quick drying cement as well, and carries it all to his car. Vera carries the quick dry cement and giggles when Trevor easily shifts the stones in his grasp when she complains about the bucket being too heavy for an old lady. He picks up the bucket and shifts the stones again, knowing he can carry more than this if he needed to. He swears he hears Vera sigh dreamily behind him as he packs the car up.

Like he said, what’s flirting with a few old ladies?

When he bids her goodbye with a kiss on the cheek, Trevor makes eye contact with Honey in the bookstore window. He grins at her and winks to her for good measure. He thanks Vera for her help while he escorts her back to the store, just for the sake of Honey seeing how selfless he can be. He’s not self-centered, no matter what she told Bea. 

Vera insists that Trevor and “his band of boys” join her and Earl at church that Sunday morning, pledging to introduce them to the other members of the community. Trevor agrees, thinking that being on Vera’s good side might get him even closer to Honey.

Trevor drives back to his home for the summer to find that the boys are playing in the rink he built.

Come to think of it, he’s making a lot of improvements to this property, and the only one who has actually helped is Quinn.

Not self-centered at all.

He deserves a party.

“We’re having a party,” Trevor calls out, carrying his stones toward the fire pit. He dumps his supplies on the ground. “And I invited two girls.” He wipes the dirt and dust from his fingers. “Someone else needs to finish this fire pit because I’m tired of building your shit. C’mon, Quinn.”

He leads the way inside, to grab a beer from the fridge, and Quinn follows after kicking off his skates, eager to avoid the work. The other brothers and Cole are left dumbfounded on the concrete. Jack makes eye contact with the cement mix first, and he smiles. 

They always did love a little project, and maybe they can hide a drawing of a dick in the cement for the owners to find at the end of the summer.

6:90 – HONEY

“Where are we going?” Honey asks. 

Bea has barely crossed over the threshold of Honey’s home before the question falls from her lips. Bea’s been cagey about it all day– just explaining that “we have plans” and that “you’ll enjoy them.” Honey loves her, sure, but this is absurd. She feels like she’s being kidnapped. 

“More like when are we going,” Bea corrects. “Let’s get you an outfit.”

Honey stumbles back, Bea pushing her out of the way. She closes the door behind her friend, following Bea as she stomps up the stairs to Honey’s bedroom. Bea knows Honey’s place as well as she knows her own, a little townhouse off of the main street in town. Honey’s lucky to live a little farther from city center, closer to the magic of the mountains. 

“What kind of plans do we have, at least?” Honey presses. She looks at Bea’s outfit– a jean skirt that falls like an old Poodle skirt and a white bandeau top. It’s sort of see-through– Honey can see the shadow and outline of Bea’s nipples through the skimpy top. “I don’t want to dress like you,” Honey says.

Bea scoffs and turns to Honey. “My plan tonight is to get laid, your plan tonight is to accompany me while I evaluate my prey.” 

Honey pretends to gag. “I hate when you say that.”

“Maybe you’ll find someone to flirt with,” Bea says. 

“So, where are we going tonight? Statesville? Winston?” Honey asks again, hoping Bea will relent since she now knows the purpose of their adventure. 

“Dude, I’m not telling you,” Bea laughs. 

She reaches Honey’s closet and throws the curtain open. She strolls into the closet, looking through Honey’s clothes. 

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Honey asks, looking down at her athletic shorts and little tank top.

Bea turns around and surveys Honey. “The shirt is fine.” She returns to her task. “Nice tits.”

Honey looks down. It’s a revealing top and she’s not wearing a bra, because it’s a Saturday and she didn’t know they had plans until Bea told her this afternoon. “Maybe not, then.”

Bea glares at Honey out of her peripheral. “But that’s your favorite tank.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to get hit on if I wear this shirt.”

“You’re going to get hit on anyway. Keep the shirt.”

“No, I won’t, because my bitch face will keep most of the guys away.”

“Most of the guys. Which is the whole thing. Those ones will come to me.”

“Ew, you’re going to have a threesome tonight?”

“A threesome?” Bea spins around. “God, no! One at a time for me, thanks. I’m just going to fuck the other ones.”

“Other than who?” Honey asks. “I’m not fucking anyone tonight.”

Bea rolls her eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“Trust me, I do.”

“Whatever.” She digs through the closet, finding a long-buried white tennis skirt, the back pleats of the skirt puffy. Honey would never wear something like that, but Bea would– it’s probably Bea’s skirt in the first place. 

“I’m not wearing that,” Honey states.

Bea wrestles her into it– seriously. She tackles Honey onto the bed and literally redresses her, the absurdity of the situation so bizarre that it completely bypasses both girls’ minds. Honey fights Bea the whole time, but Bea comes out on top. She gets her way, Honey wears the skirt, but she’s not happy about it.

“Do I, at least, get to drive?” Honey asks.

“Oh, I was going to force you,” Bea laughs. “You don’t expect me to drive you home, do you? I’ll be… indisposed.”

Honey scowls the rest of the time they spend getting ready– Bea does Honey’s hair and forces Honey to put on some light makeup, just a bit of mascara, eyeliner, and some lipgloss. 

The only problem with Bea and Honey’s relationship is that Bea likes to go out, likes to meet people, likes to have a wild time, whereas Honey prefers to stay in. She’d rather watch a documentary or read a book or be present in nature than packed into a club dancefloor like a sardine in a larger can. Not that that matters to Bea.

By the time they get in the car, Bea is jumping off the walls trying to keep her secret destination to herself. Honey keeps trying to push, hoping for the right moment, but Bea won’t reveal her plans. All she does is direct Honey to the main road and type away at her phone, sending text after text to an unknown recipient, an unknown recipient that Honey is sure they’ll be meeting up with later.

They drive further into the mountains, to Honey’s surprise. They don’t head towards Winston or Statesville. They drive up, farther from town, farther from their neighbors. Near the top of the mountain, the houses are miles apart.

Perfect for a party.

Perfect for a party… thrown by boys in their twenties.

It clicks in Honey’s mind as Bea tells her to turn into the hidden driveway along the curve. “You’re not,” Honey says.

Bea laughs. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to catch on. I thought for sure you would’ve clocked me when we turned left instead of right.”

“Bea,” Honey scolds, her voice sharp. They’re on the driveway now, safe from the curves of the road, and Honey stops the car. She turns to her best friend. “You can’t be serious.”

For all of her audacity, Bea manages to understand the gravity of the situation at hand. It finally clicks in her head, why Honey isn’t happy with her plans, and why she’s even unhappier that she was dragged out here without knowing what she was walking into. She can’t just drop Bea off and leave– she would be abandoning her best friend in a house of strange boys all evening. Bea might be outgoing, but she hasn’t been hurt like Honey.

“It’s not going to be like that,” Bea reassures Honey gently, grabbing Honey’s hand with both of hers. “I promise, they’re not like that.”

“You don’t know them, Bea,” Honey explains. 

“You don’t either,” Bea points out. “And this time, we’re together. The second they do something– I mean it, the second– we’ll leave. I’ll go with you. Fuckery be damned.”

Honey grimaces, rolling her shoulders to try and relieve some of the tension. She takes a deep breath, then squints at Bea. “Are you really going to fuck all of them?” She asks.

Bea grins, knowing that she’s convinced Honey to at least try and hang out with the boys. She’s smug, getting her way once again. She winks at Honey, coy. “Just the ones you don’t want,” she simpers, giggling. “You get your pick of the litter.”

“I don’t want to fuck any of them. I don’t know how many times we have to go over this.”

“So, you don’t want Trevor? ‘Cuz I was thinking–”

“Don’t fuck Trevor,” Honey groans. 

“Why not?” Bea teases.

“You’re better than that, Buzzy,” Honey scoffs with a shake of her head. “He’s weird and a flirt and annoying.”

“I’m weird,” Bea says. “And a flirt. And annoying.” She puckers her lips and blows kisses at Honey as she shifts the car into drive and begins to creep down the driveway again. “Maybe it’s a match made in heaven, me and Trevor.”

“You don’t want him,” Honey growls, her voice short. 

Bea shrugs and faces forward in her seat, her hands tapping her thighs. Whether it’s from nerves or excitement, Honey can’t tell. If she had to guess, though, it would be excitement. Bea is the least anxious person that Honey knows, the kind of person who can talk to anyone or anything no matter the situation.

While they might be athletes, they’ve never met anyone like Bea. Honey never has, not since she met her best friend all those years ago. They’re fucked– and she’s irresistible.

Honey and Bea pull up to the house and park under the cover, right next to the front door. This house was a point of contention when it was being built the first year Honey moved to Litchton. It was her first introduction to the gossip of the founding ladies. Scarlett and Gillian had felt particularly perturbed by the building– a five bed, four bathroom house complete with a hot tub and a game room and two stories of wraparound porches. 

And it’s all made of the same wood, the same stain, the same ugly pattern. Honey cringes when she thinks about the number of trees that were cut down to make this house match. She’d think the same thing if it was made entirely out of the same stone. 

Bea knocks on the door as Honey wipes her sweat from her palms. It takes a minute, but then Honey hears the scrambling of feet and the shouting between one man and his group of buddies, who are just giggling as they do what they can to cut him off from the door. Honey can see it through the thin windows bordering the door, how they rush up the stairs and down the hall. She can also see how they’re holding Trevor back as much as they can.

The brunet from the first day opens the door with a charming smile. “Hi,” he greets. “Can I help you?”

“Jack, you motherfucker–”

Honey bites back a laugh as Trevor curses and struggles, still in the grasp of the shorter boy from the first day and one of the newcomers– another brunet, a taller one. She looks at him carefully– the curl of his hair at the nape of his neck, partially hidden under a baseball cap, the curve of his eyebrows, and the slope of his lips give him away. He must be one of Jack’s brothers. 

“We were invited to come over tonight,” Bea replies.

No matter how many times she hears it, Honey is always impressed by the way Bea turns on her charm and makes the people around her melt. It worked on her, too, when they first became friends all those years ago, and then less and less when Bea moved into Honey’s place when they first came to Litchton together and shared a bed for almost a year before Bea found her own townhouse. Then, her charm just got annoying, like a younger sibling who tags along with you everywhere because Mom said they had to.

It’s better for them when Bea and Honey have their time apart. Honey, especially, needs her time alone.

Jack’s eyes finally find Honey behind Bea and he grins. “That’s right,” he says, tapping his forehead like he just remembered. Honey can tell that all he’s doing is messing with Trevor, though. “The party! You must be the girls that Z invited. Hi, Honey.”

“Hi, Jack,” Honey replies, short and sweet. She turns on her customer service voice just for this. She finds Cole next to Trevor and smiles when her eyes slide over the imprisoned boy, as passive as she can be. “Hi, Cole.”

“Hey, Honey,” Cole says with an easy smile. Honey wants to snort and laugh– he’s got a smile that could get him into or out of anything. She wonders briefly if he’s childish and impish, still, even in their adult age, just because he’s got the smile to match.

Jack steps aside and lets the girls enter the house. He closes the door behind them and Honey has a sneaking suspicion that if she turned to glance at him, he’d be staring at one of their backsides. She doesn’t look. It’s not worth the joke that she could make if she caught him.

Bea nudges Honey and points up.

Honey tilts her head, and– “A chandelier made of moose antlers. Wow,” she marvels. She makes a face at Bea, then continues. “That’s really… something.”

“Isn’t it sick?” Cole asks, finally dropping Trevor’s arm and joining the girls where they stand. He spreads his arms out from his sides and spins in a slow circle. When he makes a full turn, he looks at both girls and wiggles his eyebrows. “Want a tour?”

The girls agree and Cole takes them throughout the house, leaving the other boys behind. From their pounding feet, Honey figures they’re headed downstairs, while Cole takes them upstairs. He shows them the bedrooms, the bathrooms, the common areas, the hallways, the outlet in his room that doesn’t work, and much more. They go back downstairs and get the same treatment– Cole even opens the fridge and helps himself to a beverage before offering anything to the girls. They see the kitchen, the living room, the den, the dining room and patio. Cole shows them the wraparound porch and its chairs. Honey takes in the view– it’s just as good as the one from her living room. 

Finally, finally, they make their way down to the basement. It’s a smaller room, minimized by a covered porch and larger patio with a hot tub. The basement is clearly the man cave, the game room, or whatever you want to call it. There’s a pool table, a large TV, a ping pong table, a foosball table… everything a boy could want. 

As evidenced by the two boys sitting on the couches near the pool table, while the other two wield sticks and study the position of the balls on the table.

Honey finds Trevor on the couch with Jack. His eyes found her first as she walked down the stairs and he hasn’t stopped staring. Neither has she, to be fair.

“Pool,” Bea notices. She looks at Honey and Honey shakes her head. Bea nods. “Honey and I are next,” she announces anyway.

“Oh, yeah?” Jack asks with a little laugh. “Are you any good?”

“I’m okay,” Bea says. She pauses, lets a smirk on her face grow as she looks over to Honey. “Honey’s worse.”

The boys turn to Honey. “Are you?” Trevor asks. 

“I wager she could still beat you, Z,” says the only boy that Honey had not seen when they arrived at the house earlier. He’s got dark hair, but it’s also hidden under a backwards cap. The only difference between him and his brothers, assuming he is one of the brothers that Trevor mentioned on Monday, is that he’s smaller, more sullen. The telltale sign is that his comment is offhanded, delivered with the calm venom of an older brother who knows exactly where to bite. He doesn’t even look at Trevor as he lines up his shot and sinks the ball.

Honey likes him immediately.

When she looks over, she notices that Bea likes him too. Her lips are pursed in thought, only the minutest pout on her mouth. There’s a tiny smile pulling at her cheek and her eyes are twinkling under the bright lights, but they would be hazardous in a club.

It’s a game they’ve played before. Bea sucks at pool– she always has, but… when you suck at pool, either the person you’re playing with will laugh at you or they’ll try to give you tips. The night usually ends with Bea sinking the 8 ball with a little bit of help from her gentleman caller and a celebratory, “thank you” kiss. 

Honey, however, loves pool. She wasn’t always great at pool, but found that, like almost everything, the more she practiced, the better she became. When Bea’s celebratory kisses turned into rushed hookups in the Winston-Salem dive bar bathrooms, Honey got her fair share of tips and tricks from the other men around. Usually, she would try to shack up with the alcoholic middle aged men who had nothing better to do than sip on their beer and play pool after dinner with their wives. It was rare that they flirted with Honey and she liked it that way.

The game goes like this: Bea finds a group of men that puff up their chest at the idea of beating a woman at pool, she “lets them win” against her (as if she would’ve won in the first place), and then it’s Honey’s turn. Honey, of course, feints a few shots and lets the men get comfortable before coming from behind and beating them. Usually, her win results in two drinks for her and her friend.

Today, the drinks won’t be her bargaining chip.

“What would you wager?” Honey asks the boy who last spoke. “If it were a real bet.”

His stormy eyes look her up and down while Jack’s brother, the tall one, paces around the table to find his best shot. “Money, normally,” he drawls. “But I’d rather not lose my money betting on you if you’re worse than her.” He nods to Bea, who takes the chance to blatantly look him up and down.

“How about this,” Bea proposes, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. “I’ll play the winner of this game and then we’ll see if Honey can beat Trevor. If I win, I get whatever I want, obviously. If Honey wins…”

Honey meets Bea’s eyes. She nods, knowing that Bea is thinking back to the night when they visited ECU their junior year of high school and witnessed a rugby party in the flesh. It’s their usual punishment when their outings feature a house party and a pool table.

“...Trevor has to do a Zulu Run,” Bea finishes. 

Honey finds Trevor again and smiles, overexaggerated and sickly sweet. 

“What’s a Zulu Run?” Trevor asks, looking to the other boys and finding nothing but confusion. On the girls’ faces, he just sees plotted mayhem. 

“It’s fun, don’t worry,” Honey reassures him. “You only have to do it if you lose. Which, I mean, if I’m worse than Bea, then you should be fine.”

Honey sits on the loveseat across from Trevor and Jack, while Bea sits down next to Jack. Her knee presses against his, subtly, just enough that you can’t tell if it’s deliberate or just a lack of room on the couch and Honey presses her hand to her lips to hide a smile.

“So you’re Jack,” Bea says, interrupting the conversation that he and Trevor had been in when the girls walked down the stairs. 

Honey watches as Bea makes her eyes look wide and soft, very flirtatious and fairy-like. She’s got the perfect complexion for it– the light dusting of freckles over her skin, the ounce of baby fat still left in her cheeks and all the right places along her body, her expression just the right amount of interested but not desperate.

For a brief moment, Honey wishes she was more like Bea.

“You’ve heard of me?” Jack asks with a little smirk.

Bea scoffs and waves him off. “Don’t flatter yourself. Honey didn’t even tell me your name.”

Jack’s bright eyes turn to Honey. “Oh, yeah?” He tilts his chin up in challenge. “What is it with you and names? You wouldn’t tell Trevor yours, you haven’t properly introduced me to…”

“Bea,” Bea supplies.

Honey shakes her head fondly at her best friend’s eagerness. Honey bites her tongue to keep her comments at bay, and instead plasters a tight smile on her face. “I didn’t realize I would be seeing you all again,” Honey says, forcing politeness into her voice. “And I’m not the one who’s weird about names.”

Jack and Trevor share a look. Jack hides a snort poorly.

“What?” Honey asks, her eyebrows raised and her mouth in a straight, unimpressed line. 

Jack smirks and Trevor shakes his head. Jack speaks anyway. “I don’t know how you would have avoided us,” Jack says. “Considering.”

“Considering…?” Bea asks, leaning around Jack to look at Trevor. Honey catches Trevor’s panicked glance and can guess what Jack’s alluding to. She jumps in, hoping to switch the subject.

“Nothing to consider,” Honey and Trevor say at the same time. Trevor sounds rushed, Honey sounds indifferent. Both of their jaws drop and they stare at each other, Honey affronted and Trevor surprised. 

Cole, who had been sitting on the stool-saddles near the pool table, steps over the back of the couch and weasels his way between Trevor and Jack. “Creepy,” he says. “You’re like the twins from the Shining.”

Trevor cringes. “You know, I don’t think we are.”

Honey just hums, picking up her drink and taking a sip. She clears her throat and turns back to Jack. “So those are your brothers?” She nods over to the pool table, where the shorter boy is lining up the 8-ball with the corner pocket. “Trevor said you had family coming.” 

Honey doesn’t miss the smirk and blush on Trevor’s face when she says his name, even as he dips his head and takes a gulp of his beer to cover it up.

Jack smiles, a genuine smile. It’s easy to tell the difference with him, when he’s really smiling or if he’s smiling because he thinks he’s supposed to. 

“Yeah, the goons.” Jack looks over his shoulder and grins as his taller brother loses his game of pool. “C’mon, Rusty, you brought that pool stick all this way and your game still sucks?”

The taller boy glares at Jack and sulks, re-racking his stick. He walks over and stands awkwardly behind the couch, but flicks Jack on the back of the head and Honey giggles before she can help it.

She looks down at her lap after letting out the little laugh and misses the way Trevor’s eyes light up and train on her. 

“Luke, you fucker,” Jack swears, flinching at the impact of Luke’s flick. Jack frowns, his eyebrows furrowed as he rubs the back of his head. “He’s my little brother.”

“Little brother,” Honey repeats. “And you’re just going to let him flick you like that?”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Very funny, Honey. Obviously I’m not going to let him get away with it.” He reaches around and half-asses a punch to Luke’s dick, just hard enough that it expels an “oof” from the younger boy and he doubles over a little bit.

The other boy interrupts. “Quit it,” he says. He glares at his brothers, then his eyes fix on Bea. “Your turn.”

Bea stands and smiles, a smug little smirk reserved for her conspiratory looks with Honey that signifies that she’s getting what she wanted. She joins the man by the rack of sticks and clasps her hands behind her back, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Which stick should I use?”

Jack looks a little put out by the loss of Bea at his side, and casts a glare toward his other brother. “And that’s Quinn,” he says curtly. “Pool master, or whatever.”

“So he’s the best in the house?” Honey asks.

“We’ll tally scores at the end of the summer,” Luke jumps in as Quinn says, “Absolutely.”

Jack scowls. “You just think that because you’re older. Remember, Quinn: first is the worst. Second is the best.”

Trevor snorts and takes another sip of his beer. 

He’s unnaturally quiet, Honey thinks. Trying to be cool in front of his friends, maybe.

“I take it you’re the second child,” Honey says. “That makes sense.”

“That makes sense?” Jack asks, repeating her statement like he can’t believe she dared to say that. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Honey looks over at Bea, who presses her lips together and raises her eyebrows. Daring Honey.

Honey rolls her head back, stretching the muscles of her neck. “You…” She starts, trailing off because she’s not sure how to finish the sentence without sounding mean. She scratches her eyebrow and scrunches her nose. “You like attention,” she decides, trying to keep her voice as free of judgment as possible. 

“Do I?” Jack asks, sounding unimpressed.

Honey shrugs. “You– I mean. Jack, you asked. You opened the door for us because you knew it would annoy Trevor, probably because you knew it would bother him that you were opening the door for m– us, instead of him. You flirt and smile when Bea sits next to you but you lean back and manspread when she gets up like you don’t want us to notice that you’re sitting without a girl at your side. You call your little brother a “fucker” and retaliate because you can, honestly escalating the situation from a flick to a punch to the dick. You act annoyed because your older brother is beating you at pool already this summer and it only just started, plus he took the girl from your side. It’s, uh… yeah. You like attention.”

Everyone but Jack starts to laugh.

“Stand up,” Cole says to Honey.

She does, her arms resting by her side awkwardly, her fingers twitching as she waits for him to do something.

Cole looks around the room and swears under his breath. “I didn’t think this through, one second,” he mutters, and disappears upstairs. 

Honey continues to stand there. She pats her hands against her thighs and looks around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, but especially not Bea. If she makes eye contact with Bea, she’s going to burst out laughing. 

Trevor is still snickering, hiding his face in his shirt. Honey can still see the little crinkles by his eyes.

“She clocked you, man,” Quinn says with a shrug before pulling out a pool stick and standing it next to Bea. It comes up to the tip of her shoulder, Quinn’s chest. He nods in satisfaction and hands the stick over. Honey lets out a relieved breath of air at his approval, and then stifles a second when she watches Bea’s fingers brush over Quinn’s on the stick, her eyes lingering on his for just a second too long.

It’s too easy for her. 

Cole comes bounding down the stairs with a plastic soccer trophy in his hand. “Found this when I was snooping,” he says, approaching Honey and holding it out. He stands directly in front of her, makes eye contact with her, and stares into her eyes. “Thank you,” he says with a sincere nod. “For taking Jack down a peg. He needed that. We all needed that.”

And he hands the trophy off to Honey with a handshake, like she’s graduating from high school and he’s the principal handing her a diploma. He takes the handshake and pulls her into a hug, the trophy crushed awkwardly between them. 

When he pulls away, Cole puts both hands on Honey’s arms and stares into her eyes again. “If you’re going to do that again, please don’t do it to me.”

Quinn breaks the rack with a crack of his stick, standing at a slight angle, and Honey sits back down, cradling her trophy in her hands.

Cole engages Honey in conversation for a few minutes, with Luke jumping in here and there. Jack turns on the TV and pouts. As much as she tries not to notice it, Trevor just stays quiet and sips his beer and sneaks glances at Honey out of the corner of his eye. 

Eventually, the conversation dies out and the group turns their attention to the television, which is streaming some hockey game that Honey doesn’t have an interest in. The boys are chitchatting away, throwing out names and positions and yelling at the TV when a call doesn’t go their way– Honey can’t tell who’s cheering for what team, but she can also tell that Jack and Luke don’t like the team in white… at all. Trevor seems to prefer them over the team in red. Cole doesn’t seem to care. He’s just laughing, still, at Jack. Jack just sulks, but he seems to cheer up once the team in red scores, late in the first period.

“You all really like hockey, huh?” Bea asks between turns. Quinn has sunken a ball almost every turn, but Bea has only sunken one. Honey grins at her, then glances at the pool table and back to Bea. Bea sticks her tongue out at Honey, playful and easy. If Quinn’s the kind of guy that Honey thinks he is, it’s only a matter of time before he starts teaching Bea some tricks to tighten up the game. 

Cole laughs. “Yeah, I mean, I’d hope so.”

“What do you mean?” Bea asks, batting her eyelashes innocently, like she didn’t read all of Trevor’s Wikipedia page before coming here. 

“We play,” Luke says with a shrug.

Honey and Bea lock eyes and Honey plays along with her game. She tilts her head and blinks, as if this is the first time she’s hearing it. “Are you any good?”

Quinn snorts and shakes his head as Bea leans over to line up a shot and Honey notices his hand on her waist when he points at a different ball, explaining that that would be the better shot for her. Bea sinks the recommended ball and jumps up with a cheer, smiling brightly at Quinn and standing just a little closer than she would if she wanted to be just friends.

“We’re alright,” Trevor says, the first words he’s said to Honey since she walked through the door. He stands. “Does anyone want another beer?���

The boys’ voices ring out in a chorus of yesses, whereas Honey stays mostly quiet. Bea agrees to another drink as well, which is when Trevor turns to Honey. “You’re sure you don’t want another drink? I’m already getting them for everyone.”

“I’m sure, but thank you,” Honey says. 

“Why don’t you go and help him carry the drinks,” Bea suggests from her post next to Quinn. 

Honey glares at her, but stands. She leaves her trophy on her seat, saving it. “Fine,” she replies, hoping the edge in her voice is only detectable to her best friend. She follows Trevor up the stairs to the kitchen, like an antisocial cat who has FOMO, but only when it comes to their owner. She crinkles her nose in disgust when she realizes that that’s how she looks, not that Trevor would notice or care. Actually, he would probably be elated if she compared herself to a cat following him around.

Trevor opens the fridge and sifts around, the bottles of beer clinking. The beer takes up most of the bottom shelf, unsurprisingly.

“Do you think you have enough?” Honey asks, unable to help herself when Trevor passes her a third bottle, each a different brand of beer, to carry. 

“Q and J like Michelob, Luke is a Miller guy, Coley likes Budweiser, and I’m more of a Modelo drinker.” Trevor’s head is buried in the back of the fridge, rifling through a pack of Millers that seem to be running low. “We’ve had to go to the store three times since that first day because we keep running out of the one beer that someone wants.”

He retreats from the refrigerator and turns to Honey. He’s got two beers in his hand. He holds them up and asks, “Which one do you think Bea wants?”

Honey weighs her choices, but ultimately chooses the Michelob. Bea will use it as a jumping point for her conversation with Quinn– it’s a no-brainer. As annoying as Bea’s boy-craziness is, Honey is always going to be her wingwoman and helper when she can.

“Cool,” Trevor says and returns the other beer to the shelf. He turns back to Honey and takes two of the beers she was carrying, leaving her with just two, the Budweiser and the Modelo.

“I thought you were a Modelo drinker,” Honey says.

“I am,” Trevor replies, heading towards the stairs. 

Honey follows. “Then why am I holding your beer?”

“Because I want you to hand it to me.”

Honey snorts out a laugh. “Okay.”

When they return downstairs, they distribute the beer. Honey hands Cole his Budweiser and waits for Trevor to finish handing out the beers to the Hughes brothers and her friend. Bea has finally managed to get Quinn to do the work for her, with him leaning behind her and guiding her arms over the cue, pointing out where she should be looking and where to hit the ball. There are no other balls on the table except the 8 ball, which makes Honey chuckle. There’s no way Bea sunk all of hers– Quinn had to have “mistakenly” knocked a few in for her.

Trevor returns to the sitting area and Honey stands, offering him the Modelo in her hand. On purpose, she realizes, Trevor closes his hand over her own to take the beer from her and thanks her with a smile, his eyes far too kind to be harmless and friendly. 

Honey shakes her head with a look, then frowns when Trevor plops his happy ass right down on the other side of her loveseat. She shakes her head again and chooses to watch the end of the pool game, sitting on one of the stool-saddles near the table. She claps when Bea finally sinks the 8 ball after her third whiff. The ball only sinks because Quinn leaned over Bea again and did it for her, working together to finish the game.

“I win!” Bea squeals in delight, jumping in celebration in front of Quinn.

He lets out a little chuckle, the most awkwardly and quietly endearing laugh that Honey has ever heard. “You won,” he agrees. “With my help.”

Bea tilts her chin up and smiles at Quinn, proud of herself. “So we both win,” she says. “That means we both get whatever we want.”

Honey bites her tongue and ducks her head, waiting for what’s coming next. She wants to turn around and look out the window, even though you can’t see anything in the dark mountainside now that the sun has set. The thing is, she also wants to see the boys’ reactions to what Bea is going to say next.

Quinn smiles, a little tiny smile. His focus is only on Bea, who has inched her way closer to him somehow. There’s not much more room between them. “Whatever you want,” he repeats. “What do you want, Bea?”

Honey watches Quinn’s face, but she’s torn. She also wants to watch Jack.

“You know that tour Cole took us on when Honey and I first got here?” Bea asks, reaching out and smoothing out the turned-up fabric of Quinn’s sleeve.

“Yeah,” Quinn replies, a little confused.

Bea rests her hand on his arm, slowly making her way down so she can wrap her hand around his fingers. She watches herself do it, then looks up at Quinn through her lashes. “I don’t think I saw your bedroom,” she says. “Would you care to show me?”

Quinn’s lips part in surprise and Honey watches his eyes search Bea’s own for… insincerity, maybe? 

At the same time, Jack chokes on a sip of his beer. Honey’s eyes fly to him and Cole pats his back as Jack coughs it out. 

“Jesus Christ,” Jack says, clapping his hand against his chest and coughing one last time.

Bea smiles at him, oozing confidence and a little showmanship, as Quinn leads her to the stairs. He lets her climb them first and Honey giggles when Quinn sneaks a glance at Bea’s ass and visibly relaxes before hurrying to catch up with her and get his hands on her hips. Bea’s twinkling laughter grows softer and softer as she bounds up the stairs, her footfalls growing heavier as Quinn closes in on her.

“Well shit, Jack,” Cole says. “I guess you’re not the first to fall into bed with a girl this summer. The streak is finally over.”

“You don’t know that,” Jack says, pushing Cole’s hand off of his shoulder. He turns to face Honey, looking hopeful and a little desperate. “Wanna help me keep my streak up?”

A loud honking laugh escapes Honey. “Absolutely fucking not,” she replies, still laughing. She shakes her head at Jack, then notices the small, but mightily proud smile on Trevor’s lips. 

Choosing not to focus on that smile, a smile that she’s inadvertently becoming very fond of because she’s never seen him smile at his friends the way Trevor is smiling at her, Honey hops up from her stool and starts to gather the balls from the pockets of the table. She racks them, then grabs her cue and waves Trevor over. “I believe we had a game to play.”

“You had a game to lose,” Trevor corrects, standing and approaching Honey. He grabs his own stick, the one Quinn abandoned on the edge of the table when Bea proposed her bedroom shenanigans. 

“Hmm,” Honey voices, raising her eyebrows and exaggerating a grimace. “Consider me scared. Your break, Trevor.”

“When I win,” Trevor says. “I want to buy you dinner.” He lines up the cue ball and shoots, the colorful triangle of balls destroyed in a single swoop. One of the solids finds its way into a pocket and Trevor smirks.

“What a boring prize,” Honey muses. “But if you insist on those terms, then I agree.” She sticks out her hand to shake his. “And when I win…”

She leans down and eyes a line of three balls. The striped nine is farthest from the hole, but Honey wants to prove a point, so she angles her stick down at a steep slope and pushes– noticing Trevor’s mouth flattening into a line when her ball jumps over the other two and tips into the hole. She stands back up to her full height, tilting her head to the side. She cocks her hip and positions her hand against it, holding the cue up on her other side.

“I’m really going to enjoy your Zulu Run, Trevor.”

Cole whistles lowly from the couch. “I need to find you another trophy, girl.”

Honey shoots him a wink.

They play on. Trevor takes it easy– plays the safe route. With each easy fall into the pocket, he fistpumps to celebrate. Honey can only imagine how insufferable he is at the bowling alley. 

She shows him up, not even daring to let him pull ahead in their race and convince himself that he has a chance. She sinks the final black ball into the right-center pocket, bending herself all the way over the table to give him a good view of the girl who’s beating him. Her hips are high on the other side of the table, balancing up on her tip toes, facing the seating area. She doesn’t even look at the ball when she hits it, no, she’s looking up at Trevor with a tilted smile and mocking, bragging eyes. 

His eyes evaluate her– eyes, to lips, to chest, to ass. To the boys, making sure they aren’t looking, aren’t gawking at the round globes of Honey’s ass that are presented before them. Back to her ass. Her ass.

Honey stands, slowly, making sure Trevor memorizes the curve of her waist when she does. Her eyes drop to his pants, a smirk growing in time with his bulge, and she rests her hands on the edge of the table. She pulls her shoulders back, broadening her chest. 

It’s just a dominant stance. All Honey enjoys about this is the fact that his resolve and dignity crumble at the mere sight of a pretty girl bent before him. She likes knowing that he’s weak for her, but that she’ll never do anything about it.

She’s not looking for that.

“A Zulu Run,” Honey explains, clearing her throat to rid her voice of its sultry tinges. She shakes her hair back, over her shoulders. Trevor’s eyes darken at the sight of her throat. She smiles, but continues. “Is when you have to strip, sing a song, and streak around the house until the song is over.” She throws a glance over her shoulder at the other boys. “Usually your friends get to pick your song.”

Jack perks up at that. Honey turns and hops up on the ledge of the pool table, knowing that Trevor’s eyes have fallen to her behind. Jack looks at Honey with delight in his eyes, seeming to forgive her in an instant for psychoanalyzing him earlier in the night. His eyes slide to Trevor and the look in them seems more akin to yearning for vengeance.

“So, boys,” Honey drawls. “What’ll it be?”

They scramble over each other to reach her, shouting song suggestions as they fly into their head. Honey can’t hear anything they’re saying, so she laughs until they fall silent. Cole’s hand presses into the side of her thigh, she looks down at it in disgust, then back up at him. It falls to the edge of the table, noticeable space between her and the appendage. 

“How about this,” Honey decides. She sneaks a glance at Trevor, gloating as she lets her eyes roam all over his body. She takes in his arms, his thighs under his shorts, the way his shirt falls over his shoulders. “Trevor looks pretty fit. Why don’t we all pick a song?” She winks at him. “Make him run for, oh, eleven minutes or so?”

A flicker of recognition passes through Trevor’s gaze, but it’s quickly replaced by disbelief. He doesn’t know how she would know– weren’t they subtle about it? She lets out a breath of a laugh at the look– no, Trevor, you weren’t subtle, she thinks. but it’s cute that you think you are.

She realizes what she was thinking in a split second and shakes herself out of it, snapping her face forward and crossing her legs knee-over-knee. 

“But only his friends get to pick, so I guess I’m out.” Honey hops down from her perch and breaks through the boys, settling herself on the loveseat with her trophy, laying out to take up as much space as she could. She picks up the remote from the table and places her other hand behind her head, navigating to the Roku menu screen. “Do we have Spotify on this thing?”

Luke, Jack, and Cole each pick a song and Cole helps Honey connect to the outdoor speakers. He re-presents her with her trophy with a flourish and a bow, playful and lame. The boys push Trevor out to the patio with a whoop, pulling at his clothes even as Trevor fights them. 

Honey follows at a distance and watches through the glass door. She looks away when Trevor sheds his underwear and waits for Luke’s countdown to end before looking back up. She doesn’t want to see it. That’s just too far. She gets an eyeful of his ass as he rounds the corner of the house, though. 

As Trevor starts his third song, Cole’s cheesy Taylor Swift pick (“You can’t outrun my music now, bitch!”), Jack joins Honey at the door. 

“I think I’m going to head home,” Honey tells him, rubbing over the skin on her arms. 

Jack nods at her, shrugging easily. “I’ll walk you out.” 

Honey leads him up the stairs, hearing Trevor’s whoops grow louder as he finishes the second verse of the song. She knows he catches them walking up the stairs because his singing falters for a moment. His steps speed up. So do Honey’s. 

She walks briskly to the front door, bordering on a speedwalk, with Jack behind her. She swings her keys over her finger and wrenches the front door open. Jack catches it before it hits the wall. 

“What about Bea?” He asks, calling after Honey and making her pause. 

“She’ll find her way home,” Honey replies and steps off again. She has to get out of here before Trevor races up the stairs to stop her from being alone with Jack and she gets an eyeful of his– junk.

“Honey!” Jack calls again. 

She lurches to a stop and cringes, turning to face the boy. 

"Honey, I don't think I'm going to flirt with you anymore."

Honey takes a breath, walking back and reaching up to pat Jack's cheek, just forceful enough that it'll sting for a moment after she walks away. It's not quite a hit, but it's definitely not a love tap. "That doesn't hold the power that you think it does," she tells him with a nod and a close-lipped smile. She goes to leave, but Jack stops her by grabbing her hand.

"Trevor likes you, you know. He was quiet tonight, but he likes you. He's reading that book you gave him and everything," Jack says in earnest, his blues boring into Honey's own eyes. 

Honey picks up on the unsaid words. He's trying, take it easy on him, he might be annoying but he's good, and he likes you. You should like him too, and all of that.

The edges of Honey's smile soften and she gently pulls her hand from Jack's. "It's nice to know he can read," she replies, deflecting. Whatever Trevor feels for her, not that he can really feel anything because he doesn't know her like that, doesn't matter. She's not looking for that right now. "Thanks for hosting us, Jack. I'm sorry for what I... said."

"It's okay." Jack shrugs. "Thanks for coming."

"Goodnight," Honey bids him, and starts to walk away.

"Come back," Jack says, and Honey whips around and finds him looking like the words surprised him when he heard himself speak. He clears his throat. "Friday. Um, it's— it's National Chocolate Ice Cream Day and National Donut Day." He scuffs the tip of his shoe against the ground. "Really... important holiday."

Honey can't do anything but laugh. "I'll bring the donuts."

She walks to her car and ignores the chirping of bullfrogs echoing in her ears as she drives down the mountain to her home, alone.

7:90 – TREVOR

Jack glares at Trevor when he walks down to the kitchen early the next morning. As Trevor rubs the sleep out of his eyes with a yawn, Jack shifts under the frozen pack of peas that rests precariously on his shoulderblades. Trevor had barely touched him last night, he was just being dramatic. So he had a bit of soreness on his back from where Trevor pushed him against the wall and asked him what the hell he was doing, who cares? He went upstairs with Trevor’s girl. Alone. 

“Bea’s taking you to church with her this morning for laying a finger on me,” Jack growls out when Trevor looks at him and laughs.

“No shit,” Trevor replies, snorting.

“It’s true,” comes the female voice from the couch. Bea leans forward, her tube top skewed and tilted enough to draw a wandering eye. Trevor rolls his. “You shouldn’t get violent, not on my watch.”

“You weren’t even with me last night, Bea,” Trevor says sweetly, tilting his head down to dismiss her. “You didn’t see me do shit. How can you prove it was me and not Luke?”

“Luke put a video of it on his private story, then showed me,” Bea snickers in the same tone. “So you’re taking me home and helping me choose my best church outfit to hide these hickeys, and then you’ll join me at the service. It’ll be good for your reputation in town.”

“I don’t really care about my reputation in town,” Trevor laughs.

“Honey cares about your reputation in town,” Bea clarifies, a tight, ‘there’s no room for discussion here’ smile on her face. She pointedly looks him up and down. “Little Bear.”

Trevor scowls at her condescending tone and use of the nickname. How dare she flaunt her inner circle-ness to Trevor. 

“I was going to go to church anyway,” Trevor boasts. “Vera told me to bring all of the boys.”

“Well, you’re the only one resorting to violence–” Jack begins, seething, before Bea cuts him off.

“No, this is a good idea,” she says, waving her hand to quiet him. “We should all go to church.”

Jack scoffs. “I don’t think we need to go,” he says. “Sounds like you’ve got an ulterior motive.”

“I don’t want the town to think y’all are reclusive party folk who have no interest in the happenings of Litchton,” Bea snaps. “You’d be surprised how quickly the old grannies will turn on you.”

“And you get to walk into church with five guys on your arm,” Jack says, still scowling. This time, his attention is focused on Bea, not the man who physically hurt him the night before. 

“Said she wanted five guys, she ain’t talking ‘bout burgers,” Trevor deadpans, a disgusted look thrown Bea’s way.

She’s unperturbed by it, probably from many years of Honey– Honey.– throwing her similar looks. All Bea does is smile and reply, “My pussy already got murdered, Trev. I didn’t need five guys.”

“No way Quinn ‘murdered’ your pussy, Bea,” Jack jumps in, air quotes around the word. “The dude doesn’t fuck.”

Bea laughs. “I assure you, he fucks.”

“Yeah, I fuck,” Quinn agrees, descending the stairs. He veers to the couch first and drops a kiss on Bea’s head in greeting.

“Well, fuck your way to church,” Jack says. “Bea’s making everyone go with her.” Jack looks at Quinn expectantly, maybe waiting for pushback.

Quinn shrugs. “Okay,” he says. “It’s not like there’s anything else for us to do on a Sunday morning in this place. Everything is probably closed.”

“It’s true, everything is closed on Sundays except the grocery store and the gas station,” Bea says with a nod. “And the church, of course.”

Jack scowls and removes his pack of peas from his back. Trevor takes his opportunity to approach the fridge, conveniently behind Jack. “Why can’t we just stay here?”

“Because it’ll be fun,” Trevor replies, trying to exude optimism now that he’s not the only boy being forced to attend church and wash themselves of their sins. He turns and purposefully claps his hand down on Jack’s shoulder, hard. Jack howls in pain. Trevor squeezes just to watch him tense up. “It’s our chance to become one with the community, Jacky.”

Bea smiles, voice dripping with cheerfulness. “Yeah, Jacky, it’ll be good for you. Why don’t you two head upstairs and change?” Her eyes fix on Quinn, whose shirt rides up as he grabs a glass from the upper shelves of the cabinets. “I want to chit-chat with Quinn for a second.”

Trevor and Jack make a face, but scramble towards the stairs. They push and shove each other all the way up– Trevor is particularly satisfied when Jack bumps into the wall and groans– then split off into their respective rooms. Trevor treats it like a race– whoever finishes changing first wins.

Jack is already back downstairs by the time Trevor returns. Cole is there, and Luke, and both of them seem to be dressed for the service too. None of the boys have the best church clothes, but it’s a small town with farmers. Surely not everyone will be in their Sunday best every Sunday. Quinn is noticeably missing, but Bea is standing by the door with a smile on her face. Her lips look a little more red than they did before Trevor went upstairs. He narrows his eyes at her.

“You, and you,” Bea says, pointing at Jack and Trevor. “Come with me. Trevor, grab your car keys. You’re driving.”

“What about Luke and Cole?” Trevor asks, picking up his keys from their spot on the hook next to the door and trailing behind Bea. Jack trails behind Trevor, still grumbling and pretending like his shoulders hurt for dramatic effect. Trevor ought to show him some real pain next time.

The three people climb into the car, Trevor behind the wheel and Bea in the passenger seat. Jack, once again, finds himself relegated to the backseat. He straps himself in and Trevor catches his murderous glare in the rearview mirror.

“Quinn’s going to drive them,” Bea explains. “They’ll meet us at the church.”

“Whipped,” Jack coughs out. He does a terrible job of masking the word. 

Trevor rolls his eyes, just like Bea. She opens her mouth to say something, sass him, but thinks better of it.

They drive on in silence, the occasional sigh or grunt from Jack as he shifts in his seat. Trevor glares at him again in the mirror and Jack hits him with a fake smile before looking out the window to watch the trees whip by.

Bea directs them to the main strip of shops, then tells them to take a left onto one of the sidestreets near The Reading Nook. They pull up to a big brick house, separated down the middle by a massive staircase. Bea climbs the stairs and turns to the left again, unlocking and pushing her front door open.

She leads the boys into her living room, which is decorated exactly how Trevor expected it to be. The couch is white with pink pillows and a white shag rug beneath it. Her furniture is odd, thrifted and worn in. None of it matches, although Trevor suspects that her theme was “Barbie girl aesthetic.” It’s messy, and comfortable, and Trevor almost envies how she lives. His apartment in Anaheim is sparse– when you’re on the road so much and as busy with your job as Trevor is, you really only need a place to eat and sleep. His decorations reflect that.

Trevor sprawls out on the couch, leaving Jack standing awkwardly next to the coffee table. Bea disappears down the hall and enters her bedroom, her closet door creaking open.

“Jack, come here, will you?” Bea asks. 

Jack’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, but he starts down the hallway nonetheless. 

Trevor snoops in his absence, Jack’s presence no longer a threat to his comfort. He drags himself off of the couch and stands, advancing towards the shelves of knickknacks on the wall near the television.

Bea has got a number of books on her shelves, overtaking two of the four rows. The other rows are sparse and far more interesting– there are picture frames spread along the rows, six frames that depict Bea’s life and what she loves.

Four of the pictures feature Honey. The other two are groups of people that Trevor assumes are Bea’s family, her extended family on each of her parents’ sides. He can ignore those easily, not caring about about Bea to scan each of her cousins’ faces. The pictures with Honey are a different story.

There’s a picture of the two when they were ten, or eleven, riding their bikes down an asphalt street lined with suburban houses. Bea’s bike is pink with streamers and flowers and a little basket. Honey’s is dark green and sporty, similar to Trevor’s own bicycle from childhood. Honey’s smile is wry, whereas Bea’s is glowing.

The second, from a birthday party. It’s Honey’s birthday and they’re four, from the looks of the lit candle on her cake. Honey’s smile is wide, much wider than the previous image. Her hair is messy and her tongue is stained green, probably from a lollipop or a Jolly Rancher. Her arms are wrapped around Bea’s neck and she’s pulled her friend close, their cheeks pressing together. Bea’s expression is a little different. Only one of her eyes is squeezed shut, the one closer to Honey. Her lips are pursed like a duck and her little fingers are raised in a peace sign.

Trevor chuckles. If his mom had been the one taking the picture, she would’ve said “What a ham” about the girls’ goofiness.

In the next picture, they’re older. They’re sixteen, probably. Bea’s wearing these short jean shorts and a bikini top and Honey wears a matching top under some long, gray sweatpants. She rolled the waistband up and her back is mostly to the camera, Bea lifted off the ground in a swooping hug. Bea’s legs are kicked up behind her like she’s experiencing a really good, Princess Diaries kind of kiss and her face is frozen in laughter. Honey’s is the same. Trevor’s heart clenches at the smile on her face and the way her hair blows out behind her.

Finally, there’s a selfie of the two of them in a handmade frame. It’s from a high angle and Trevor can’t tell if it’s a .5 picture or a regular one. Honey’s eyebrow is raised and she wears an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression, goofy enough to tug at Trevor’s smile. Bea’s mouth is open and she has a hand pinching Honey’s chin, while the other is raised to take the picture. Behind them is the Welcome to Litchton sign that Trevor passes each time he goes into town. 

Trevor’s eyes glide down to the handmade frame, the written message along the top and bottom borders.

“New Beginnings!” and smaller, in the corner, a more personalized message. Trevor thinks that she wrote the message in a thin Sharpie– it’s too pristine still, after years. “There’s no one I would rather have join me in Litchton than you. Thank you for always being the Bea to my Honey! Honeybea 4ever <3”.

Trevor reaches out and takes the frame in his hand, inspecting it. He turns it over. More script, also in a Sharpie: “2019”, it reads. He replaces the item, making sure it’s back in the exact right spot. 

“Bea, hurry up!” Trevor calls, returning to the couch.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” she replies, leading Jack out of her bedroom. She’s clasping a necklace as she walks, then holds out her wrist and a bracelet for Jack to clasp. “We can go now.”

They leave the apartment and climb back into the car, Jack beating Bea out for the passenger seat this time. He’s smug about it too, grinning to himself while he buckles up. Trevor opens the back door for Bea and helps her into the car with a guiding hand in hers. When Jack realizes that he fumbled the chance to look like a gentleman, his face returns to its scowl. 

“If you’re not careful, your face will get stuck like that,” Trevor warns when he finally sits behind the wheel again. He shifts the car into drive and pulls out of the parking space.

Bea directs them to the church and Trevor pulls into the parking lot next to Quinn’s car, which is still running. They’ve got about five minutes before the service begins and Bea chastises the three boys for not going inside and reserving seats early. 

“There’s only a few instances where the whole town goes out to do something,” Bea complains as they walk inside. “Church is one of them. We’re never going to find a spot for all six of us.”

“No Honey?” Trevor asks, taken aback. He expected her to join them, especially since the ‘whole town’ is here.

Bea casts Trevor a look and snickers into her palm. “You’re sweet, Trevor,” she says and Trevor rolls his eyes at her saccharine tone. “But Honey decided a long time ago that she had enough religion in her life growing up. She and God know where they stand.”

Trevor reaches the door to the church first and holds it open for the group, letting them file in. He’s grateful that they’re in the church now, because all of the other boys are either too respectful of the space and what it represents or too awkward in a silent building to make fun of Trevor for seeking out Honey. Or they don’t want to get on Bea’s bad side and act a fool in church and suffer her wrath.

They file into one of the back pews, Bea sandwiched between Quinn and Luke. Trevor sits on the other side, right at the aisle. 

For an hour, he stays quiet and moves and speaks with the congregation. He counts the number of times that Cole tases Jack’s side, sticking his fingers between his ribs to cause him to flinch and make noise in the reverent area. He does this five times throughout the mass before Bea leans forward and threatens to cut his hands off herself. 

For an hour, Trevor stares forward and lets his mind wander to Honey, and all the thoughts he has about her. She’s a mystery and she’s quiet like Quinn, but confident in a way that Quinn never achieved. She knows exactly who she is and won’t budge for anyone, won’t change herself or act in any special ways around certain people. 

Trevor admires it– he’s spent his whole life performing for people, in a way. Hockey is his life and always has been, but sometimes it’s tiring to realize that all of his friends are people he met on ice. To think that he can be surrounded by his teammates and the fans in any arena and still feel lonely– it’s the kind of thing that leaves Trevor wondering if this career was a good idea. 

In another world, he’s playing in a beer league in a town like this, with a girl like Honey on his arm. 

The thought leaves him feeling heavy, weighed down. It ruminates in his mind, even after the service is over. It sours his mood completely and Trevor wishes he was back at the house so he could take a shower or something and stop the prickling feelings from taking over his skin.

In the parking lot, the group chats about nothing. Trevor doesn’t listen. Bea introduces the boys to come of the townsfolk and Trevor smiles and shakes the men’s hands, hugs the ladies or send a special look their way. Vera and Earl honk as they drive past the group, Vera blowing a kiss towards Trevor and Cole through the passenger window. Cole catches it and sticks it to his cheek, then sends one back. It makes Vera laugh.

Trevor tunes back into the conversation as the boys discuss plans for the upcoming week– Jack edges away from Trevor before he mentions that he invited Honey over that coming Friday and that Bea should come too. 

“Well, you’ll rarely find a Honey without its Bea,” Bea teases. She claps. “Okay. I’ll see you guys then. Quinn, take me home?”

Quinn nods and puts his hand on the small of her back to direct her to the car. Bea pauses and waves Trevor over, shooing the other boys away. Quinn stays, his hand still on Bea’s body.

“There’s a fruit stand outside the grocery store on Mondays,” Bea says.

“I know, I’ve been,” Trevor interrupts.

Bea quiets him with a click of her tongue. She chooses her words carefully, her eyes hard. “Go tomorrow at, like, six,” she suggests, a faux-nonchalant shrug lifting her shoulders. “You might find something that you like there. I recommend buying the strawberries. They make a lovely gift, Trevor.”

Trevor frowns, confused. “I don’t like strawberries,” he replies.

Bea closes her eyes and processes his words for a moment, a tight smile on her lips. “They make a lovely gift, Trevor,” she repeats.

“Sick,” Trevor says, his voice hard. He doesn’t understand what she’s saying. “I’m not buying strawberries for you, Bea. I don’t know you enough to give you gifts.”

Bea stomps her foot. “Good fucking God, Trevor. Quinn, can you explain this shit to him?” She asks, then walks off to the car. She takes Quinn’s keys from his hand and gets behind the driver’s seat herself. 

Quinn watches her walk away, then turns to Trevor. “She’s telling you that you’ll run into Honey, you fucking idiot, and that you should buy her strawberries.” 

He leaves Trevor standing there, eyes wide.

Yeah, he’s definitely heading to the fruit stand tomorrow and buying strawberries.

He concocts his plan on the drive home, silent compared to the other three boys, that are laughing and flopping around the backseat with every turn in a game of Jell-O. They’re not wearing their seatbelts. When they get too loud, Trevor envisions ejecting them from the backseat, leaving them sailing down the mountain, falling through the air.

He holes himself up in his room to nap when they get home, too excited to see Honey to let the time pass organically. It’s like time travel, this way. Trevor will wake up and be two hours closer to seeing her, to getting another chance to win her over. This time, with a gift.

In the afternoon, he laces up his blades and skates with the boys. Quinn has come back by now, not spending much time at Bea’s apartment after church, according to Luke. They all skate and shoot for a couple of hours, playing a game of pickup with an extra player to sub in and out. When that ends, they run some drills. Luke and Quinn play defense, like always, with Trevor, Cole, and Jack recreating their legendary line from USNTDP. It works out perfectly, and each boy pushes himself like they’re playing a real game. It’s the brotherly competition that fuels them– and when the drills start to fall into disarray from hits and other penalties that would certainly be called out in a game, they head off to shower.

The night ends slowly, fizzling out compared to the way it ended the night before. The boys lounge in the game room, sprawling out on the couches and snacking and sipping their beer. Trevor isn’t made to perform another Zulu Run, no one picks up a pool cue, and they watch shitty TV movies on the Spanish channel instead of English. They make up the dialogue as they go and Trevor is the first to go to sleep. He makes it to midnight, but then he forces himself to go to bed. 

He’s got a big day ahead of him… after 5 p.m., anyway.

–end–of–chapter–one–

[runningfrom2am]

michigan cherry // part six

summary: walking into a saloon in a nowhere town, billy meets a singer who he just can't get off his mind after she slips through his fingers; onto another town, another show- following nothing but the stars in her path. until he sees her again. another nowhere town and equally dusty saloon, but this time, the band of kids who made up her family is nowhere to be found. he's running away from something, and she is storming full speed toward something else, and tangling into each other's lives may just get both of them exactly where they want to be.

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 2.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: singer!reader (she’s giving very much lucy gray), probably a little bit ooc billy but hey i tried- anyway he’s a sweetheart, use of guns and violence, murder and violence but i try to keep it non-descript, oh also she’s an orphan sorry (once again, lucy gray vibes), strangers to friends to lovers trope eee. also not thoroughly proofread oops

the songs in this chapter are: "scared of my guitar" by Olivia Rodrigo, "Michigan Cherry" by River Whyless, "Traveling Song" by Ryn Weaver, "Slim Pickins" by Sabrina Carpenter, and "Adore You - Acoustic" by Maisie Peters !!

a/n: ahhh hi it's my birthday! super excited to share this with you guys even though it isn't all that special or exciting but i'm just happy to be back :). last year for my birthday i posted in this life or the next and i wanted to finally get part 3 of that up today but that just wasn't going to happen BUT for everyone asking i am working on it. i swear. i'm not giving up on it!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

You thought that you might have heard somewhere that music is to the soul as opium is to a stubborn cough.

Or, maybe you dreamt that. Regardless, you knew for certain now that it was bullshit. But, with nowhere else to place your heartache, you found yourself sitting by a fire nearly every night with your guitar in your lap, humming soft words under your breath and plucking the strings as gently as you could.

It was for work, yes, but like opium, you had long since become addicted to the routine. Billy had too.

"You can play a little louder, y'know." He hums, tossing a broken twig into the campfire that separates you. "I was promised music in exchange for my services."

"And you get your music." You chuckle, hand pressed over the strings to stop their hum. "You haven't missed a show in almost two months, that ain't enough?"

"Sure, I'm just sayin' don't hold back your practice on my account. I'm happy to listen again." He answers with a soft smile, the yellow glow from the flames warming his features and bathing him in light.

You can't help the matching twitch of your lips to return his, feeling the slight burn in your cheeks that you can't confidently attribute to either the fire or your own blushing. "Well, it ain't much to listen to yet. Not finished."

"Ah, somethin' new?" Billy asks, leaning back on his palms and watching you expectantly as you give him a slight nod.

You're leaning over your guitar to scribble in that little notebook of yours, the pencil almost nothing more than a little nub in your hands and the pages of the book almost filled to the brim with words and notes. The temptation he faces every day to just grab it while you're sleeping or out away from the camp on a little walk has become an almost unbearable curiosity.

Because yes, he loves the songs you do sing, but what he wouldn't give to hear the ones you don't.

Billy would dive at any opportunity to see just a little more into your beautiful mind.

"Yeah, kinda." You hum in response, distracted again by the strings of your guitar effectively wrapping around your heart and your fingers and dragging your attention back to it.

"Okay, then, let me hear what you have so far."

You hate doing that, normally. You would hardly even play incomplete songs for your family when they were around- that awkward moment where you just have to trail off and go "Um, that's all I have..." and try to laugh but not too awkwardly was something painful.

But, this was Billy. Something about him compelled you to agree.

The problem was, the song you were currently meddling with the idea of may or may not be about him. You'd like to confirm with yourself that no, it is not about Billy, but damnit- he's the only person in your life. What else were you meant to write about?

You look down at the pages next to you, narrowed eyes reading over your own writing.

'Perfect, easy, so good to me. So why's there a pit in my gut, in the shape of you'-

Nope, nope, no. He's not hearing that.

You could deny all you wanted that the unfinished song was about him, try and claim to yourself that it was about Max- but deep down you knew the direction it was going.

You flick through the most recent pages, trying to spark your memory of something safer.

'Tart and sweet like a wild berry Tart and sweet your words to me Dark and red like a Michigan cherry Dark and red as the Iliad sea Here we lie in the deep night ready Here we lie, our skin is bare'-

That's definitely not going to work either. Your cheeks get somehow hotter and you clear your throat, flipping the page again.

Okay, this is much better.

"Like I said, it ain't done, so... not much to it yet, but..." You say, clearing your throat and avoiding his eyes as you quickly scan the new page again and position your fingers over the guitar strings.

Billy gives you a steeled nod, sitting up a little straighter ready to listen as if he would be a judge of the quality of your music. It was a joke, you both knew it. He knew he couldn't come up with a critiquing word toward your music if he was held at gunpoint and forced to try.

"Nobody knows where they are going Oh, how we try to wrap our minds Over the edge of all our knowings Be it a bang or the divine Tip of my iceberg blues are showing I've never been one for goodbyes So, 'til I meet you there, I'm singing A traveling song to ease the ride And so you know, everywhere I roam I'll see you on the road."

Your voice is steady, focussed on getting it out rather than dwelling on the meaning of the words and Billy could tell.

"So farewell to my friend, He who taught me to love like a beast And to feast like the queen that he fed turtle soup Little boy from Paris to the States, check the facts That was Magical Max He was black sheep and mischief and love for his craft..."

His heart leaps at the little laugh that falls from your lips at the memory of your friend, your fingers slowing their strum to a steady halt. He doesn't expect you to continue, but you do, your smile quickly fading again back into an attempt at indifferent focus.

"Then he told me that I was starlights that shine On that very last day, he said "Shoot for your dreams, little girl, to the stars" Well, I'm taking you with me Now this one is ours and I know what you'd say you'd say "On with the show!" So on we go."

How embarrassing it is to almost cry singing a song that isn't done, for your best friend who would never live to hear it. Whose memory deserved to be shared. It wouldn't get very far if you couldn't even share it with one person; if you couldn't even stomach finishing it.

"Um, so... I'm not sure about chording for that last bit, or honestly the lyrics. I think it feels better without the guitar, but..." You say quickly, focussing yourself on your book and pretending to scribble something in it just so you wouldn't have to look at the boy sitting across the fire from you.

"I think it's perfect." Billy tells you, a softness to his tone you only had the pleasure of hearing once in a blue moon.

What he meant to say was that it's beautiful, that it's a flawlessly fitting tribute that he felt lucky to hear, that when sung by an angel's voice like yours he didn't doubt for a second that your friend Max had heard it from beyond the veil and loved it too. Even unfinished.

None of that was what came out though, essentially awestruck the way he always was at your shows- but this time he was able to actually speak to you after hearing it instead of just clapping, whistling, or if he was lucky, catching your gaze with a smile and a corny thumbs up that told you he thought you were doing great. Not that you needed it.

"Thanks." Your sweet voice replies, watching him for a moment you determine to be too long before your focus is back on the notebook next to you. "Anyway, um, if you want to hear something else unfinished, this one I think is going to be kind of funny."

"Show me what you've got, then."

Billy simply couldn't resist anymore.

Sitting absentmindedly on a hay bale in a barn where a local owner was gracious enough to let the two of you stay, that damned notebook seems to be glowing right in his face from the sunlight streaming through some bullet holes in the wood paneling that made up the side of the stable.

It's taunting him, he's sure of it.

This stare-down has been going on for about ten minutes since you left it out on the ground next to your guitar to go use the homeowner's washbasin to clean up when his wife offered- you weren't going to turn down a bath that wasn't in a creek.

That would probably take you a while though, you'd likely savour it, so he could just take a look. You'd sing him pretty much anything asked, and what could possibly be more vulnerable than that song you wrote about Max that you shared with him a couple of weeks ago? Surely you wouldn't mind all that much. On the off chance you ever found out. Which, of course, you wouldn't- because he would put it right back where it was after just skimming it.

It's not Billy's fault your handwriting just looks so pretty and you're a poet without publication privileges- it would just be a waste if no one ever read your pretty musings written oftentimes to no one.

And still, he convinces himself again, that you would never know.

He gets up and studies the book to make sure he could put it back down at the right angle before picking it up, hands gentler than they have ever been- like he was touching his mother's precious crystal vase, a wedding gift that had been long lost to time in several moves across the sea and then the country.

He opens the notebook and immediately he can see how you've grown since this book was first picked up by your delicate hands. How your print has changed from beginning to almost end, the pages all wrinkled from spills and humidity and time.

How lucky, he thinks, to be chosen by you for this journey of your life. Why does he feel so much camaraderie for a book?

He skims the pages, delighted to see that it isn't just full of words but drawings too; the sweetest most delicate doodles of little things like your guitar or a flower here and there squeezed in amongst the words on the pages. The amount of talent one young woman could possess astounded him, it's shocking that it doesn't drip out of your every pore in the very black ink that you use to write. 

He can't help smiling a little to himself as he reads the scrawled titles and lyrics to songs he recognizes and he can practically hear your beautiful voice singing every word he's already heard.

'A boy who's nice that breathes- I swear, he's nowhere to be seen.'

That was the funnier song you sang to him those odd weeks ago, and just remembering the small laugh that fell from your lips as you sang the words makes him chuckle too as he reads it.

You had told him you wrote it with Sarah, and he could tell- based on the two distinctive styles of handwriting squeezed onto the small page.

He begins to realize as he flips through the pages of the small tattered notebook resting in his lap, that you had been dating the pages. Finished songs had dates of beginning and completion going back a little over a year, and he figures this must not be the first one you've gone through.

Billy comes to the near back of the notebook, as much as he would love to spend all day reading every word you'd ever translated turning your life into poetry or ballads of melodic storytelling, he knew his time was limited.

One song in particular catches his attention, though.

'So high that I am floating, So good that I'm out of my head. So low baby I was hurting, you made it better again.

Oh, we got caught in a moment, and I'll lay with you all night. So good that now I'm hoping you'll hold me down for life.

I adore, I adore, I adore you.'

The corners of his lips twitch up in a smile as he reads the words, scribbled out and rewritten several times in some places.

It's unfinished, but dated to have been started a couple of weeks ago. He remembers you had asked him what the date was that day, and saw you write it down as he answered- your hair falling over your face and brushing your shoulders as it shielded the book from his view.

A couple weeks ago.

And the drawing- oh, how his heart flutters in his chest so quickly it feels like his ribs have transformed into a sparrow's cage.

To Billy, it looked like him. He knew he must be thinking crazy, after all, it had been a while since he had had a proper look in a mirror, but it sure felt like he was right now- down to the little feathers on his hat and the shape of his cupid's bow. You had given yourself away with the scope of your artistic faith.

"What are you doing?"

At the sound of your voice, slightly hesitant as you stand in the entrance to the barn, he slams the book shut and jumps just about a foot in the air; a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"N-nothing! I just, it just- um..." It was still clutched in his hands, already weary of parting with the precious object of your affections. "It, um... It fell, and I- I just picked it up, and-"

When he looks up at you, you look mildly horrified; cheeks burning the same way his are and eyes blown wide like you had been the one who was caught doing something wrong.

Neither of you move, both frozen on the spot, terrified of the next words that might fall from the lips of the other.

You weren't about to incriminate yourself by asking in a shaky voice if he had read or looked at any of it, knowing he did, and he wasn't going to ask if that song or any others he skimmed (and wish he took more care reading) were about him like he hoped they were.

After a moment of staring at each other like both of you were hostages with guns to your head respectively, you both decide to make the first move at the exact same time. He quickly holds the book out to you at the very moment you reach out to take it, and the awkward exchange makes you want to curl up under the hay bale you were meant to sleep on and rot there.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[mothdruid]

A Snowed In Baby Bird

pairing: robert ‘bob’ floyd x afab!reader

summary: you and bob are childhood best friends, your families being friends before you both were born. a storm rolls in at your families shared cabin, that the two of you volunteered to lock up. now the two of you are stuck, but is that really a bad thing?

wc: 4.4k

warnings: 18+, smut, mdni, fluff at the end, alcohol use, oral sex (male receiving), vaginal fingering, blow job, pet names (baby bird), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, bob fucks.

a/n: we've gotten two out of three winter storms in michigan so far this week! we currently have six inches of snow and are supposed to get six more this friday! so i was inspired to write a snowed in fic! this was also lightly based on a twitter porn video.

“Well, fuck.” 

The weather outside was getting progressively worse. The wind was picking up, whipping around the thick white flakes of snow outside. It was practically a blizzard. Something that you would have seen in a movie and definitely didn’t feel confident driving back in. And you didn’t want to pressure Bob into driving back in this weather. 

“What’s up?” Bob asked, walking over and stopping behind you. 

“The storm showed up early.” 

Yeah, the two of you knew about the storm. But it wasn’t supposed to show up for another three hours. Or at least the last you checked it wasn’t supposed to. 

“That doesn’t look good.” 

You nodded in agreement. 

“Might as well get a hold of our parents.” Bob said, turning to go search for his phone. 

Both of your families had left earlier that day, leaving the two of you alone. You two had volunteered to lock up, not wanting the rest of the family to be held up. After spending the whole weekend with each other's families, you two really wanted to take this time to catch up. You two had hoped to get alone time this weekend, but your families made it borderline impossible.

Your family and Bob’s had been close for years. Neither of you knew how or when your parents became best friends, but you both remembered each other from day one. Bob was only a few months older than you, something he always boasted about when you two were kids. You were a little surprised when he came home this time. 

He was a little different, not the shy Bobby you grew up with. He was more confident and composed now, college having changed him. He had goals he was aiming for now, flight school being his driving force. A part of you was beyond proud of him, but it was still worrying watching the person you had loved for years take off without you. 

You had never confessed that you loved him to anyone. You had always assumed it was some type of childhood crush, affection towards the first person who was kind to you. But then it never went away. Even when you both left for college, your heart ached at the loss of contact. The texts never stopped, the occasional video call every now and then, but it was just never the same. 

“Yeah, ma. We know, we know. Yeah. Love you, too.” 

You watched Bob pace back and forth around the living room, texting your own parents that you two were stuck at the cabin due to the storm. You bounced your leg lightly, a little anxious about the new predicament. There was barely enough wood for the wood stove to keep the cabin warm through the night. You leaned back into the couch, watching Bob hang up and walk over to you.

“You good?” Bob nudged your leg with his.

“I mean, kind of?” 

Bob plopped down next to you, setting his phone on the coffee table. You mimicked the action, placing your phone on the coffee table. 

“Getting snowed in wasn’t on my trip checklist.” You joked. 

“Mine either.” Bob said, smiling at you. He wrapped an arm behind you on the couch, adjusting his glasses as he looked at you. 

The two of you sat there for a moment, contemplating what to do next. The two of you decided that you would stay downstairs, not wanting to burn through all the wood trying to heat the entire place up. Bob offered to sleep on the couch, letting you take the only downstairs bedroom. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to get too cold.” You said. The urge to say you would just share with him was strong, but you decided to tuck that away.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll just sleep in a sweater or something.” Bob chuckled. He stood up, moving to the wood pile near the wood stove. 

You watched as he opened the front of the stove, taking a log and placing it inside the stove. A part of you wondered about how his arms looked under his sweater. The knit material hid the way his biceps flexed when he picked up each log. Bob had always been lean and fit, but you knew that since he was headed to flight school he might have started working out. 

A heat started to bubble inside of you, still watching him. You could see a small rosy tint on his cheeks when he looked back at you. You gave him a small smile, getting up and heading to the open kitchen. You sought out two shot glasses and a bottle of fireball. If the fire wasn’t going to warm you up quickly, this definitely would. 

Bob had moved to the fireplace when you returned to the living room. You watched as Bob got the fireplace lit, cracking open the bottle of fireball. He looked back as you filled one of the glasses with amber liquid, setting the bottle down before throwing back the shot. The liquid seared your throat as you felt it travel down, settling in your stomach. 

“Fireball?” Bob asked, watching you pour another shot. “Are we in high school?” 

“Says the one who didn’t drink til he turned twenty-one.” You threw back the second shot quickly, grimacing lightly. 

“Sorry I was following the law.” Bob joked, tossing his hands up in a defensive way. You watched him grab the bottle and pour his own shot. 

“Always being a good boy, aren’t you Bobby?” You teased. 

Bob rolled his eyes, throwing back his own shot. The bob of his adams apple caught your attention. Your tongue ran over your lips, watching his lips detach from the shot glass. The shots in your stomach were starting to warm your body, adding a light haze to your brain. You weren’t sure when he had started watching you, but when your eyes caught his he blushed, looking away swiftly. 

After the both of you downed a few more shots, you had finally started to catch up. You learned that Bob had got a close knit friend group at college. The group helped him push himself, going out of his comfort zone and learning more about what he was comfortable with. Bob had learned that you were still sporting a high GPA, even with graduation right around the corner. 

“So, you heard about flight school?” You asked, pulling a blanket you had found further up your body. 

“Yep, got accepted.” Bob nodded, holding another shot up to you as a toast before throwing it back. The bottle of fireball was almost empty now, maybe only a handful of shots left in the bottle. 

“Congrats! Baby bird got his wings!” You squealed. Excitement with a tinge of sadness flowed through you, knowing that naval flight school would be hard. It would put him further away from you, making your heart ache. But you knew the two of you would make it through, just like you did with college.

“I haven't got 'em yet.” Bob said, looking at you with a bit of a sad look. 

“What’s that look for?” You questioned, afraid you might have said something wrong. 

Bob shrugged as he crossed his legs, grabbing at his pants leg now. He looked so small now, like that kid you grew up with. The kid that was always making sure that he had enough to share with the class. The one who always made sure that nobody was left behind in the line or fell behind in class. You thought about the one time he found a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest, which really upset him when he found out it couldn’t be put back. The incident that earned him the nickname ‘baby bird’ from you. 

“It.. it’s nothing.” Bob whispered, trying to give you a small reassuring smile. 

“That’s a lie.” You stood up, pointing down at him. “You have to tell me.” 

Bob stared at your finger, leaning back a little bit. He was a bit perturbed at your action. His face scrunched up, eyes squinting to look at you. You watched him adjust his glasses, a part of your throat went dry as you watched him. Eventually, he swatted your finger away, pulling one knee up to his chest. 

“Why do you want to know?” Bob questioned. 

You made your way around the coffee table, moving to your knees in front of him. His cerulean eyes were deep pools of emotion, hiding something you couldn’t see on the surface. 

“Because you’re my friend.” You reached out for his hand, feeling his soft skin against your own. “If something is bothering you, I’m here for you. You can talk to me.” Emotion had started to take over your face. 

Bob could feel everything bubbling inside of him. It was all settling in his throat, threatening to break out. He had thought about his fears for a while. Being shipped off to the other side of the US, away from everyone he knew and loved. Away from you. The two of you weren’t together now, but a three hour drive was much more bearable than an almost day long drive. 

“I’m scared about leaving. Being away from everyone.” Bob figured now was better than never. “Not having anyone I really know around. Not having anyone to lean on. Not having you.” Bob’s hand tightened around yours, the alcohol giving him confidence. “I don’t wanna lose you.” 

Your heart ached at his words. All the shots of fireball were making his words confusing. It felt like a confession, but you weren’t sure of what. Without thinking you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. 

“I’m not leaving you though. I’ll always be here.” 

Bob brought his free hand up to your face, caressing your cheek. You watched his eyes flick down to your lips, tongue moving to wet his lips. You scanned his face, taking in his now bright red cheeks and ocean like eyes. 

His lips were soft when they pressed against yours, softer than you ever imagined. You tightened your hand in his. The movement was gentle, his lips softly moving on yours. It wasn’t pushy or desperate, more refreshing than any other kiss you had experienced. The hand on your cheek moved a little bit, sliding to cradle the spot right below your ear. Bob pulled back from you, pressing his nose into your cheek. 

“Is this okay?” Bob whispered. 

“More than okay.” You nodded, feeling his glasses move with your motions. 

The two you reconnected, a little bit more passion behind the kiss now. You let your years of emotions start to pour into it, giving him everything you had to offer. Bob doing a similar thing, letting all of his hidden emotions come to the surface. He let go of your hand bringing it up to the other side of your jaw, keeping you in place as he kissed you. The small wire frames of his glasses could be felt against the plush of your cheeks. 

“Let’s move to the couch.” You whispered, kissing him lightly before standing up. 

Bob moved over to the couch, sitting on it as he watched you saunter over. You placed a knee on each side of Bob, settling in his lap. Bob’s hands moved to your waist, lightly settling but not grabbing or applying pressure. You rolled your hips down onto his, feeling his semi-hard cock in his jeans. Bob leaned his head back into the couch, reveling in the feeling of you grinding against him. His eyes were focused on you, watching your hips roll against him. His chest was already moving heavily, each breath filling his lungs to the brink. 

You gripped the back of the couch, rolling your hips as you felt his hard-on grow against your ass. He closed his eyes and parted his lips, breath passing quickly as you rocked against him. You felt your sweater tighten around your waist. You looked to see Bob’s hand tight on the material of your sweater. 

Heat was starting to pool in your abdomen as you rocked against him. You pressed your chest against his, latching your lips onto his neck. A gasp left Bob, his blue eyes opening wide. His hips rocked up into your grinding motions, pulling a whimper from him. Soft noises started to pour from him when you sucked the spot below his ear. 

“Can I ride you?” You asked. 

You could feel how hot and wet your panties were as you rocked against him. It was barely anything, but god was it getting you ready for him. You felt like a teenager in high school during your first make out session. But the one thing you couldn’t get past was Bob not touching you. Did he actually want this? He was the one that asked you if it was okay? Maybe he changed his mind? 

“Please.” Bob said, leaning up and trying to capture your lips again. 

You gave him a small peck before climbing off of him. He watched you unbutton your jeans, sliding them down and kicking them to the side. Bob clenched the cushion of the couch, his other hand moving to lightly rub over the bulge of his jeans. He was watching you with such devotion and innocence, making you wonder if he had ever even lost his virginity. 

“I’ve got a question for you, baby bird.” You asked, slipping your hands up the back of your sweater. You unhooked the clasp of your bra, bringing your arms in to take your bra off. “Have you ever,” you let your bra drop from under your sweater, “thought about this?” 

Bob swallowed as he watched you. You stood before him in just your underwear and knit sweater. It was driving him crazy, thinking about your nude form underneath the sweater. The way your nipples must have perked up when the material of your sweater brushed them. He almost forgot about the question you asked him. He nodded eagerly once he remembered your words.

“Another question.” You settled on the floor in front of him, hands moving to his belt. “Have you ever, ya know?” Your fingers unlooped his belt, pulling it out from his pants. Your fingers swiftly undid the button to his pants. 

“Yeah, it’s just been a while.” Bob quietly said, lifting his hips as you started pulling his pants down his legs. 

“That’s okay, I promise to take it easy.” Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers, easing them down his thighs. 

Bob sighed when his cock was freed, the cooler air covering his cock. He spread his legs a little bit, watching you look at his cock. A small bit of embarrassment was starting to flood inside of him, not sure what you were thinking. It was all drained from him once your fingers wrapped around him, stroking lightly. 

“Oh god.” Bob let out, letting his head drop back. He closed his eyes, breathing almost hitching with each stroke. 

A warmth bloomed inside your chest as you watched his reaction. His cock felt like silk against your skin, a pearl of pre-come catching on your thumb. You spread pre-come along his cock, reveling in the sounds he had started to make. You grabbed the inside of his thigh with your left hand, keeping your right one stroking him. 

The groan was ripped from Bob when your tongue licked at his tip. You kitten licked the head of his cock, earning soft whimpers from Bob. You took him into your mouth, easing him further into your mouth. Bob’s hand clenched near his sides, bringing himself to look at you. He moaned when he looked down at you, lips wrapped around his cock. It was something he had dreamed about for years. 

You bobbed against him, taking him further and further into your mouth. You brought a hand to his balls, massaging lightly. Bob’s hips bucked a little, pushing the head of his cock into your throat. A gagging noise came from you, but you didn’t pull off of him. You wanted to give him everything you could. Take care of him the best you could. 

Bob could barely handle it. The sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth were pushing him to the edge. His abdomen was tight, a heat boiling in the base of his spine. He knew that if you kept this up he would come soon. Without a warning, you pulled off of him. He leaned up a little, getting ready to speak. You smashed your lips against his, earning a moan from Bob. 

“I need you in me.” You said, slipping your underwear off as you started to stand up. 

Bob nodded, watching you place a knee on each side of him. You hovered above him, staring at him as you grabbed his cock. You rubbed the head of his cock through your folds, catching on your entrance every now and then. A whine fell from you when it rubbed against your clit, a wave of pleasure rippling through you. 

You positioned him at your entrance, preparing yourself to take him. You slowly started to sink down on his cock. A moan fell from you as he stretched you open. Bob’s hands shot to your waist, still hesitating to grab you. His breathing picked up, chest heaving as you fully seated yourself in his lap. Soft sounds continued to come from him. 

“You’re not going to come, are you?” You asked softly. 

“No.” 

Bob’s fingers started to skate under your sweater. Without warning, you grabbed your sweater and took it off. Bob’s fingers grazed over your midsection, not knowing exactly where to touch. Bob’s eyes eventually found yours, not leaving your gaze as you took his glasses off of him. His cheeks were bright red, causing a warmth to blossom in your heart. 

Your hips started to roll against him, his cock sliding in and out of you. Your fingers moved to the back of the couch, grabbing it for more leverage. Bob’s hands felt like they were hovering over your body. You started to lightly bounce on him, his cock stretching you with each downward motion. 

His hands moved to the couch cushions, gripping them with each motion you made. A part of you was confused, wishing he would just touch you. Your hands found his, placing them over your breasts. Bob licked his lips when he felt your breasts in his hands. He kept his hands there, too nervous to grab or knead them. 

You kept working your hips, thighs starting to slowly burn. A steady heat had formed in the pit of your belly. You placed your hands back on Bob’s thighs, rolling your hips and slightly presenting yourself to him. Bob just sat there watching, whines and moans falling from his lips. His hands stayed barely touching your breasts. His tongue ran over his lips, wetting them while teasing you. 

You leaned over him, placing your hands on his jaw. You licked his lips, silently asking for him to open his mouth. His hands drifted to your waist, sitting there as your tongue moved against his. You ran a hand through his hair, pressing your forehead to his as you broke the kiss. 

“You don’t have to be afraid to touch me.” You said, rolling your hips. 

“I’m nervous.” Bob whimpered. 

“You don’t have to be nervous. It’s just me.” 

Bob kissed you gingerly. 

“But what if this is the only time.” He let his head fall back. 

You started to kiss his neck, marking it lightly. It was cute, the concern and nervousness he was showing. You were also worried about this being the only time, but if he wanted to do this again, you definitely weren’t going to say no. 

“We can do this however many times you want.” You whispered in his ear. 

Bob pulled back to look at you. He leaned against you nodding before smashing his lips against yours. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you down tightly against him. A moan escaped you, his cock pushing deeper inside of you. His hips started to roll up into yours, meeting your own movements. 

Bob leaned up, taking a nipple into his mouth as you rode him. His tongue swirled around the bud, pulling a moan from you. You threaded your fingers into his hair, keeping him pressed tightly on your chest. Moans started to pour from you as Bob started to take control. His hands gripped your hips and rolled them against him. 

One of his hands disappeared from your hips, slipping between the two of you. Bob’s fingers slid between your legs, finding your clit. Your body shivered when he started rubbing circles on the bundle of nerves. You were so used to him not touching you that it was a little shocking. It hadn’t occurred to you just how close you were to your climax. 

“Jus-just like that.” You whimpered as your hips rocked heavily against his. 

The head of his cock was pressed tightly against that sensitive spot inside of you. The combination of his fingers on your clit and his cock pressed against your g-spot had you tumbling over the edge. Your walls clenched around his cock impossibly tight. Whimpers fell from your lips, his hips not stopping. 

“B-Bob!” Your hands gripped the shoulders of his sweater tightly as you came around his cock. 

“I’m not gonna last.” Bob whimpered, feeling you clenched around him. 

“Inside of me, please.” You whimpered. 

Bob groaned at your request, thrusts started to become uneven. His whimpers started to grow louder, hands tight on your sides. With only a few more thrusts and whines, Bob was coming inside of you. You moaned when you felt his come fill you, coating your walls and spreading warmth inside of you. You pulled Bob in for a heated kiss, tongue and teeth clashing. 

Eventually you two pulled a part, Bob guiding you to rest your head on his shoulder. He started tracing small patterns on the skin of your back, taking a moment to appreciate what just happened. The material of his sweater pressed against your cheek as you started to drift. You shifted in his lap, his softened cock falling out of you. The both of you moaned when he fell out of you, his cum starting to fall out of you. 

“Hey, let me go get something to clean you up.” Bob whispered, shifting you off of him and onto the couch. 

A thumbs up was all you gave him as he got up and trotted off to the downstairs bathroom. You looked around for your sweater, locating it on the floor near the couch. By the time you slipped your sweater on, Bob was returning with a wet washcloth. You accepted it from him, whipping away the mess between your legs. He tracked down his underwear to put on, finding yours too. He held your panties out to you, trading you for the washcloth. 

Bob left after the trade, heading back to toss the washcloth into the dirty clothes basket in the bathroom. You slipped your panties on before he came back, finding the blanket you were curled up in earlier. Bob picked his glasses up from the arm of the couch, placing them back on his face. He sat down near your feet, placing a hand on your now blanketed calf. You kicked your legs up, making sure the blanket covered his legs and yours. 

The cabin was darker now, the fireplace barely had a flame to it and the night had consumed the weather outside. Silence settled between the two of you. It felt comfortable yet awkward. 

“I was serious.” You said, staring at the dimly lit fireplace. 

“Hmm?” Bob looked over at you, confused by your words. 

“About it happening as many times as you want.” You looked at him, watching a shy look take over his face. 

“Oh, I.. Okay.” Bob adjusted his glasses as he looked back at the fire. 

You sat up, moving closer to him. You took one of his hands in yours, squeezing it. 

“Are you okay?” 

Bob smiled and turned to look at you. The shadows of his glasses casted over his face. 

“I’m better than okay.” He squeezed your hand back. He leaned towards you, kissing you softly.

Warmth flooded you as he kissed you, spreading through your body. You brought a hand up to his face, caressing his cheek. He pulled back and pressed his forehead to yours. You heard him take a deep breath. 

“I like you.” Bob whispered. 

“I like you, too. Always have.” You whispered back. 

Bob pulled back from you, a small look of surprise on his face. You smiled at him, repositioning the blanket on your laps then resting your head against his shoulder. 

“I’ve always liked you.” Bob said, staring at the fireplace. He was contemplating getting up to add more wood to it. He didn’t want to give this up, having you cuddled against him. 

“I think I’ve always liked you too. Liked you ever since we were little.” You said, thumb rubbing along the back of his hand. 

Bob kissed the top of your head, then removed himself from you. He made his way to get a piece of wood to put in the fireplace, checking the wood stove in the process. He made his way back over to you, letting you rest your head on him again when he sat next to you. 

“What’s gonna happen when I leave?” Bob asked. It was quiet, something you barely picked up. 

“I didn’t leave you when we left for college, I’m not going to leave you when you go to flight school.”

“But it’s a lot farther away.” 

You sat up, pulling your knees up and sitting on them. Bob watched you move quickly, facing him completely now. You grabbed both sides of his face, keeping him from looking away from you. 

“Bob, what about ‘I’ve liked you since we were little’ do you not understand? I’m not going anywhere. I love you and I’ll be with you till the end.” 

Bob scanned your face, taking in your features. Sincerity was all he could find. Your words were honest, full to the brim with truth. You had never lied to him before, why would you be lying now. 

“You love me?” Bob asked. 

“Yes, baby bird.” You pressed a kiss to him. 

“I love you, too.” He whispered back.

[babydollmarauders]

for the baby el au, what if one day (when el is much older like 4-5 years old) el breaks her foot or some bone and is crying and jack and mama and literally everyone else get really really worried

it came to no surprise to me that Jack had El on the ice as soon as she was 3 years old. Jack and his brothers had officially deemed her old enough that summer and took her to the indoor ice rink in Michigan at least twice a week. by the end of the summer, my daughter was skating circles around me.

and the following summer, at 4 years old, she was learning the family business; how to play hockey.

we’ve been to the indoor ice rink enough times this summer that i’ve learned the best thing to do is sit on the sidelines while my husband and his brothers do the teaching. so twice a week, at the least, i come to the rink equipped with a book, my camera, and snacks.

“alright, c’mon El-Bell! grandma is expecting us home for dinner soon!” Jack’s words echo throughout the practice rink, but it’s not a surprise when two seconds later the word “no!” is replacing his own.

El is most definitely a Hughes. ever since last summer, she’s lived and breathed being on the ice. she never wants to leave, never wants to stop skating. she’s just like her father.

“El, you gotta listen to your dad. if he tells you it’s time to go, then we gotta go.” Luke tries to help, but his attempt makes no difference to his niece.

“no!” her high pitched voice bounces throughout the mostly empty rink, everyone else having gone back to their homes already. i watch from my spot off the ice as my daughter starts to skate away from her uncle as fast as she could.

“El, baby! slow down! i don’t want you to get h-” i trail off as she trips over air, her body twisting as she lands on the ice.

her scream pierces my ears, making me jump to my feet. Jack, Quinn, and Luke all rush over to her as i run to the ice, stepping on without skates and shuffling as fast as i could over to her.

“shit, i think her arm is broken.” Quinn confirms my worst fear as i finally reach them.

“daddy! it hurts! make it stop!” tears roll down her cheeks, her face red from her sobs. my own tears well in my eyes at the sight of my baby in pain.

“i know, princess. i’m sorry. i know.” Jack appears calm, but his fidgety demeanor and the pain in his eyes lets me know that this is affecting him just as much as it is me.

“okay, daddy’s gonna carry you to the car and we’re gonna go to the doctors, okay?” i run my hand over her hair as i speak. El nods through her sobs as Jack slides his arms underneath her and picks her up, careful of her injured arm.

i let out shaky breaths, my heart pounding on the way to the emergency room.

“what if they don’t think it’s an accident?” i whisper to Jack. Quinn drives the car with Luke in the passengers seat as Jack and i sit in the back with El between us.

“what?” Jack asks, his head snapping over to look at me in my frenzied state.

“what if they don’t believe us and they call child protective services or something? what if she gets taken away from us? we didn’t do anything wrong!” my breathing picks up, bordering hyperventilation as my mind races with ways that this could go wrong.

“baby, between us three boys, we’ve probably broken hundreds of bones, and that never once happened with us. i promise you, it’s a first time ER trip, we were right there watching her, they’re not gonna think anything other than what it was… an accident.”

Jack’s hand slips into my shaky one, his thumb rubbing the back of my hand in soothing circles.

“mommy.” at the sound of her voice, i look down at El. “do you think i’ll get a cast like Lilah?”

i let out a weak chuckle at her bravery through this, and at the mention of her friend from the playground, who had a hot pink cast on her right arm.

“you might, baby.” i confess with a sigh.

“that’s so cool! uncle moosey can write his name on it! i like his name.”

[uluvjay]

You are in love- L. fantilli

Gif by frostbees

Summery: you and Luca find your way to each others hearts

Luca Fantilli x Hughes!reader

Warnings?: kissing

Got the inspo for this listening to “You are in love” by T swift so a little inspired by that!

—

You and Luca met when Luke had introduced you two at the beginning of the season, you had heard a little about him from Mackie and Duker but still had yet to meet the boy and his brother. “Hi I’m Luca” he said and you couldn’t help but just look at him for a moment, the floppy brown hair and big smile was doing something to you and you felt yourself blushing for absolute no reason. “I’m Y/n Luke’s twin sister” you said shaking the hand he had held out.

You got introduced to Adam as well but they were soon being pulled away by the rest of the boys into the living room of the sophomore house to watch a football game. “What was that?” Your twin asked, “what was what?” You replied a little confused. “Your blushing, Is there something I don’t know about” and here came the overprotective brother, “What? No Luke I just met him” you said feeling a little embarrassed that he caught your blush. He stared at you a little longer before pulling you into him and pulling you into the living room with everyone.

—

Over the next few months you and Luca got to know one another pretty good, and by December half of your friends were convinced you two were secretly dating. He was currently laying on your bed while you packed your bag to go home for the holidays, with Luke and Adam being away at worlds you two were together all the time.

“Do you really have to go home?” He asked with a pout and puppy dog eyes. “Yes Lu” you said with a laugh, “Lukes already not going to be home and Quinn isn’t sure if he’s gonna be able to come home because of the weather in Vancouver, I think my mom might have a heart attack if me or Jack don’t come home” you said. “Why aren’t you going back home again?” You asked. “It’s just a lot and mom said weather has been horrible she doesn’t even know if planes have been taking off” he said.

You felt bad for Luca, him and Adam never really being far apart from each other especially during the holidays you knew this was hard for him.

For you however this wasn’t your first time at the rodeo, pretty used to your siblings not being home for holidays and being far apart. “You could always come home with me if you’d like” you said, your mom had invited him as soon as she found out he wasn’t going home.

“I already told you I appreciate your mom offering but I don’t want to impose on your guys Christmas” he said. You put the hoodie in your hands down and put them on your hips, “Don’t give me the mom look, I’m not coming home with you that’s your family time Y/n” he said.

“Cmon Luca, please? You won’t be imposing and I’m pretty sure my mom got you gifts already” you told him. “Y/n! I told you to tell her not to do that” he replied. “She wants you there to…do you want me to beg? Because I will” you told him, “y/n no-“ he said getting cut of by a laugh as you got on your knees and started begging in a British accent. “Okay, okay I’ll come home with you” he said between laughs, “Yay! My moms gonna be so excited” you said jumping up and attacking him in a hug.

—

Christmas went great, Quinn made it in, Jack had already been home for a few days before you got there, and you were correct your mom had gotten Luca a large amount of gifts that made him blush and tell her he didn’t deserve any of them. Your brothers had interrogated him the second they seen him come in with you, they knew who he was of course they tried to pay as much attention to Michigan hockey as they could. But didn’t change the fact that they wanted to know why he was coming home with their baby sister.

Your mom and dad loved him but they also wanted to know what the deal with the two of you was. You knew you had feelings for Luca but you didn’t know if he felt the same, you guys were together all the time, sat next to each other everywhere, knew each others orders at, he always had a hand lingering on your lower back, and he had recently got you to start wearing his jersey to games.

Today was New Year’s Eve meaning your parents were going to host their annual party and you had one thing in mind, going into the new year with a boyfriend. Tonight you were telling Luca how you felt and there was nothing that could stop you.

You hadn’t seen each other for most of the day as your brothers had him on the frozen pond all day while you helped your mom cook. But as the evening rolled around you finally caught him coming out of the guest room in a nice shirt and jeans while you were coming out of your room in a black dress you ordered weeks ago. “Well who do we have here” you said scaring him slightly as he was looking down at his phone.

“Y/n!- oh you-you look incredible, beautiful actually. Is that the dress you showed me? It looks really, really good” he said blushing and not taking his eyes off you. “Thanks Lu, you don’t look to bad yourself” you said smiling at him as the two of you finally made eye contact. You stayed like that for a moment until Jack came out of his room ruining the moment, “The hell are you two weirdos just standing here in silence for?” He said walking down the stairs.

“Uh we should probably head down” you said, “yeah right, let’s go” he said extending his arm out to you so you could hook your arm through it. As the night went on you didn’t see a whole lot of each other, you being pulled in every direction by family members and your parents friends wanting to know how you were but as you finally got a moment to breathe you noticed the time 11:50. Shit you only had ten minutes till midnight and to find Luca and tell him how you felt.

Lucky for you he was right in the couch in the living room, you leaned down over the back of the couch and asked him to come with you for a moment, he quickly did with no hesitation. You lead grabbed your coats off the rack by the door and lead him on the front porch with you. “Everything okay?” He asked worried that you pulled him outside in the middle of family event. “I’m gonna tell you something, and it’s okay if you don’t agree with me but I have to tell you” you said playing with your fingers.

“Y/n your scaring me a little, is everything okay?” He said slightly grabbing your chin and making you look at him. “Everythings fine I-I’m..I have something to tell you”

“Okay..”he said, he was hoping you were about to tell him what he really wanted to hear. “Luca..I’m in love with you, have been for a little while now. Your the sweetest person I’ve ever met, you’ve been treating me so good these past few months and your not even mine. You walk me to classes if you can, text me goodnight and good morning , my family absolutely loves you, and I’ve never felt this way before” you finally let out.

Luca didn’t know what to say, he had so many emotions running through his head right now. He’d been in love with you from the moment he shook your hand in your brothers kitchen and you felt the same. “It’s okay if you-’’ you started but he cut you off by pulling you into a kiss. As soon as your lips hit you heard “Happy new year” come from in the house and the sound of who you assume was a drunk Jack banging pots together. “Happy new year baby” he said you pulled away, “Happy new year Lu” you replied pulling him in for another kiss.

The next morning you woke up in your boys arms and a text from your mom that held a video, as you opened it you seen it was the ring doorbell recording of Luca pulling you in for a kiss and it had captured your little moment for all of time. You smiled even harder at her message

I’ve spent your whole life hoping you found someone to love you right, and from the looks of it you two angels are in love🤍

—

Sorry for any errors, I hope you enjoyed!

[bordysbae]

7. "don't feel special that i’m here, my mom made me come." "mhm, sure." and 18. "I miss you" with Quinn? Something like the reader and Quinn used to be friends in love but there was miscommunication???

“the things left in ontario”

quinn hughes x reader

🦋 BORDYSBAE’S 500 CELLY

— ୨୧ —

quinns nhl debut is tonight, and you’re being dragged along by your mother. you’re not gonna deny a trip to vancouver, so might as well go. her and ellen have been best friends for forever, so you grew up alongside the hughes family. although you’ve lived in canada for all of your life, the hughes family was still a major part of your life even while they were living in the united states. but when they moved to canada, you were estatic.

you and quinn are the same age, so you two bonded more than anyone. unfortunately, when quinn left for michigan, your heart went with him. not only is he your best friend, he’s also more than that. he’s your first love, but he just doesn’t know it. you two have always been a little more than friends, and everyone just assumed you two are bound to get married.

that was until college rolled around.

when quinn was in michigan, he basically just stopped speaking to you. sure, when he came to visit in canada for the holidays you two spoke and acted as if nothing had changed, but you both knew things were weird now. part of your heart shattered seeing quinn so far away with little contact. unfortunately when you stopped texting first, that lead to no texting at all. you’ve collectively decided to avoid quinn the best you can, and it’s been working. that’s until your mom and ellen decided to drag you to his debut.

you’re sat in the stands with a blue jersey loosely hanging off your body, and the crowd is screaming loudly as the boy appears on the ice. his lap begins, and ellen is cheering louder than anyone in the building. a small smile forms on your lips as quinn skates around the ice, but you quickly purse them.

“you’ve gotta admit y/n, you’re proud of him,” your mom nudges you.

“i mean yeah, we’ve talked about this day for years, but i just wish things weren’t the way they are,” you shrug while watching the boy shoot loose pucks into the net, as his debut lap comes to an end.

eventually the game finishes, and you’re all excited to see quinn. he comes out with a big grin on his face, but it drops when he see’s you. after hugging everyone else, he pulls you into a very very loose hug.

“y/n, hey,” he awkwardly smiles

“hi quinn, congrats,” you half smile before immediately walking away.

—

at dinner, you and quinn are accidentally placed across from each other at the table. at this point everyone knows about your falling out with quinn, but no one knows just exactly what happened. not even you two. you avoid eye contact with quinn all night, but on the way out of the resturant he stops you. “y/n, thank you so much for coming. it means a lot,”

“yeah don’t feel special my mom made me come,” you half jokingly say. you’re both uncomfortable and upset, so the last thing you want is to talk to the boy who unknowingly broke your heart. but you don’t want to be overly forward with your feelings, so sarcasm is what’s best in this situation.

“mhm sure. i saw you smiling and clapping during my lap,” he chuckles nervously.

“yeah yeah whatever quinn. nice finally talking to you for once,” you forcefully smile and turn around. suddenly his hand on your shoulder stops you.

“what? what’s that supposed to mean?”

“are you serious quinn? you don’t even realize that you just straight up stopped talking to me? we haven’t talked in months quinn! you give me a few of your hoodies before you leave for michigan then just ditch me? we almost kissed that summer, quinn!” you quietly yell at the boy, trying not to draw the attention of everyone else in the parking lot.

“i just, i don’t- fuck y/n. there’s no excuse for what i did, but i really just thought you didn’t feel the same. you were so flirty with that guy the summer before i left, so i thought it was best to leave things in ontario,” he sighs while rubbing a hand through his hair.

“i’ve been waiting and waiting for things to go back to how they were, but nothing ever did. you’re in vancouver doing god knows what with god knows who, while i’m here mourning a friendship that you clearly don’t care about! hell quinn, we’ve always been more than friends and you know that!”

“oh will you just shut up,” he groans before kissing your lips. you’re taken back by his forwardness but kiss him back as soon as you realize what’s going on.

“i’m sorry i left us behind when i moved, but i promise it meant so much more than you know. i miss you, y/n/n.”

“i miss you too quinny.”

[trashyreptilian]

And here I am with one reference sheet done! Only a FUCK-ton more to go haha,,,

Reblogs are appreciated! :3

===============================================

Biography (long read):

-General Info-

Full Name: Alfred Thorn Age: 18 Height: 6'0'' ft Gender: Male Sex: Male Species: Human Homeplace: Huntstrail, Michigan (US) Romantic/Sexual Orientation: Greyromantic asexual

-Other Info-

Personality?: Seemingly a nonchalant type of guy, just living his life and avoids attracting attention. Often feeling like he doesn't fit in with society or any kind of community. He's not much for showing strong emotions, not near random people at least. Typical for him to carry around an "I don't care" attitude and crack jokes during bad times, but it also serves as a means of protecting himself. Being well enough taught that showing his vulnerable side to the wrong people, can possibly be used back against him. The calm exterior hides an emotionally struggling artist, who's suffered through past childhood abuse from his own mother. Sometimes that pain rises to the surface, and accidentally shows up through unexpected mood swings or frustrated/defensive outbursts. However, Alfred knows how badly he manages his own negative emotions. This kind of heated temper shows up when heavily provoked or felt like he's backed into a corner. He may seem like a loner, yet in actuality, he's got a few close select people he cares about a lot. And depends on, more than he'd like to admit. But solely because of that, he shows a strong willingness to go far to protect them. Even if it means he might somehow risk his own life in the process. Seen in these instances, his more assertive and bold-self comes out.

Thinks Before Acting?: It's mixed with him, either does or doesn't depending on the situation. Typically, he'll try thinking over his actions and words. Especially when he can sense a bad outcome if he's not careful. Though, he's far from being the most calculated guy.

Positive Traits?: Mellow, modest, imaginative, soft-hearted, protective and audacious.

Negative Traits?: Reserved, insecure, confrontational, defensive, self-destructive and resentful.

Way Of Speaking?: Can talk in two languages, the main one is American English. Has knowledge in speaking Spanish, but it's kinda subpar. Remembers mostly from the lessons he had in school. On the odd occasion only uses it around his closest friend, Simon, who encourages him to improve. His voice is calm and soft, with no particular accent. At times, loves using a mocking or sarcastic tone. (Headcanon voice: https://youtu.be/2rHRztFGOm8?t=1)

Occupation?: Works as a stock clerk at a furniture store. Assists with unpacking delivered items, organizing the stockroom, inspecting inventory and so forth. Also, he takes overnight shifts when possible for extra cash. Of course, the entire job itself is for financial stability. Otherwise, he cares little about it. Had hoped to get into some kind of art career instead, possibly becoming a cartoonist. Sadly, he's never gotten such an opportunity as he grew up. Didn't help that he lacked complete confidence, and still does to this day. So it all remains but a little fantasy he thinks about.

Powers/Skills?: With Alfred being human, don't expect any overpowered abilities like how demons and angels have. However, in his very rare case, having a supernatural being, more precisely a simulacrum, for a parent did unexpectedly help him improve physically, and made him able to defend himself. At a younger age of sixteen, he was gifted his first weapon which was a pistol Glock 19. With help from his father, he trained in remote areas. Shooting useless items that were used as targets. Now, he's well-practiced enough in using it properly, discreetly carrying it when out at nighttime. Of course, not limited to just a pistol. He's also got a metal bat safely tucked away in his bedroom. But for as long as he's known, anything can be a weapon. In a fight, he'll manage some inventive ways to beat someone up. Not exactly a person with a strong-build, yet he makes up for it in endurance. Fairly fast when running, most likely to outrun anyone. The type of guy to pick his fights. Besides all that, survival skills. Learned a few tricks throughout all the times he's gone out camping, moderately skilled living in the wilderness. Particularly good at starting a fire. Maybe a little too good.

Hobbies?: Main hobby is drawing, pretty much remained so since he was a kid. His art style is very stylized, expressive and exaggerated. Taken inspiration from his favorite animated shows and movies. He'll usually use a regular sketchbook with a pencil and pen to draw. But he dabbles in other unique methods like graffiti, and pastel art. A more recent past time is using a camcorder. What he chooses to record is random. Can either be a quick recording of his father’s cat, or footage of activities and ramblings. For whatever reason, he just finds it relaxing. Not to mention, it's his way of better preserving memories besides taking photos. Something else he does to unwind is watching movies and TV series, or playing video games. His favorite genres are horror and thriller. On the lighter side, he loves all stuff that's animated, comedy and adventure fiction. Also, collects merchandise related to his favored media. Considers it a luxury, so he's not gung-ho about it. While these are things he typically does alone. Camping and exploring abandoned places, are done together with his dad. Since they can't hang out together in broad daylight, they always go out during the night. Their activities start regularly, but sometimes end in some sort of chaos when they get overboard. With property ending up mysteriously ruined. Just a not so subtle clue into what exactly happens on their trips.

Habits?: Often smokes and drinks. The first one is easier for him to keep controlled, the other one is an addiction. Possibly inherited from his mother's side of the family. He's aware of that, yet doesn't seem to grasp how poorly it could affect him in the future. Both substances are used when stressed or annoyed, but gravitates towards the alcohol mostly. An insomniac, his sleep schedule has been, and still is, irregular. Tends to be active out of nowhere during later hours, and taking overnight shifts doesn't help him. All coupled together, it's easy to imagine his self-care is kinda non-existent. Not to say he's lacking in it, it's out of sheer tiredness and apathy. Irritability is a rather serious tendency due to trauma, and a main fueling reason for the reliance on bad tendencies. It only worsens when experiencing a chain of obstacles, no matter if minor or severe. There's no clear pattern as he can seem fine in the moment, yet takes but one nudge to tip him off the edge. Resulting in sudden outbursts, causing to shut himself off from others.

Relationships? (Simplified): Alfred's dad has remained an integral part of his life. Who in fact, happens to be a simulacrum from Hell, named Him. It's been the only figure he's ever looked up to and known as family. Same demon was originally supposed to replace his actual biological father. In a rather malicious, literal sense. That never happened, as the target left his family behind during the early years of Alfred's childhood before anything transpired. Then living with an abusive mother got him in a worse vulnerable state. So getting attached to something inhuman, but caring, shouldn't be surprising. Their steady bond continued while no one else had a clue on any of it. Entering his young teenage years, Alfred was unphased about his own father figure not being exactly human, once Him revealed so. Despite the few times he had to see or hear it lashing out onto other members of its own species, he never seemed disturbed by its more violent actions. Him's raw wrathful nature is no secret, for sure. He looks past as it being over-protective since so far, he's only seen it attack out of defense for the both of them. Many times he has wished to be as reliable, strength-wise. Since Him's the only father, best friend, and role-model he's ever had, he holds it up in high regard. Alfred would go to Hell and back for it. But the relationship is far from perfect, both struggle a lot with communication. Opening up emotionally is hard especially. For Him, it's worse. As they say: like father, like son. They stay silent about their relationship, for safety's sake and to avoid unwanted attention. Nowadays, they live together in a little run-down apartment. Finally secure, in a place they can call home.

Interacting with a simulacrum for nearly his whole childhood didn't make Alfred the most extroverted person. After frequently having trouble socializing, he gave up trying to befriend people his age. At some point, he simply preferred hanging about on his own. However, one person managed to start a friendship with him, Simon Belrose. A new student that had joined the same high-school, and class, as Alfred. They were both young teens, around the same age, when they first met. His outgoing and amicable personality had Alfred spooked, he reasonably assumed that he'd be left alone by him. Having not much thought about the new guy, becoming friends with him was even less on his mind. Up until they both had an interaction, in which Simon had shown genuine interest in his art. While the compliments were validating for Alfred, he was wary of the other anyway. Took a bit to get acquainted properly. Over the years, they've grown a lot closer as friends. But Alfred still remains secretive on a lot of stuff happening in his personal life. Usually for understandable reasons, yet Simon would appreciate it if they were more open with one another. Nonetheless, they get along pretty great. Both admire certain qualities the other has, that of which they don't themselves. They enjoy pissing each other off until someone breaks first. Random screaming matches over absolutely nothing happen frequently. And their silly scuffles always get hectic.

Moving back onto otherworldly beings. Due to Alfred's long bond with a simulacrum, a certain figure grew interested in finding out more about the two. One way or the other. After a major event, involved with a rather unpleasant (putting it lightly) "person". A series of unusual circumstances followed suit for Alfred. Which all led to meeting a theraangel, called Xanthan. When their first proper interaction happened, there was nerve-wracking tension. He wasn't sure what to make of them, or what the angel's true intentions were. Heavy convincing was needed to earn Alfred's trust. To his own surprise, a mutual respect developed as they bonded over certain grievances each had. Later on a different date, Xanthan becomes his guardian angel. Part of a deal made with his father, Him. Solely due to this guardianship, they find more things in common. Eventually gaining a deeper understanding of each other. Their shared connection with art helps them be more open and start an eventual friendship. Alfred slowly views them as a sort of mentor. Maybe even as another father figure. Seeing how he appreciated Xanthan's longer living experience, once he felt comfortable he'd seek out advice from Xan alone on the rare occasion. Very few people manage to break down all the high sturdy walls that angel puts up, Alfred managed to be one of those people. He proved to be pretty insistent in making that guy a close part of his life.

Speaking of enemies, there's no one in particular who really fits in with this definition for Alfred. Besides perhaps some bitter students from his high-school that he got into fights with, or his mother and sister he has distanced himself away from. Still none of them fit such a defining strong label as "enemy". As he just wants to forget about these people entirely. Yet, that doesn't mean he won't make adversaries in the future.

================================================

General rules for all of my FCs and OCs:

-While I'm fine with getting inspired by my work, please do not just steal the designs. -I am uncomfortable with my characters being unknowingly shipped with other people's characters. -Fanart is all well, great and welcomed! As long as it isn't sexual. I'm fine with gore but please, keep my characters away from your own sexual material.

[freakymcnastys]

“possibly in michigan” a creepp book - headcannons

general headcannons:

slenderman is british.

despite what people might think the mansion is way bigger on the inside

it has its own theater, bar, hell even a convenience store, no one actually knows how the store gets stocked

ben is too scared to go down there bc of that

the slender brothers come over every thanksgiving and christmas but offender is limited to the living room and dining room…

sally FORCES jeff to dress up for tea parties

jeff cuts his own hair but is surprisingly good at it

thinking about how smile dog is basically jeffs therapy dog :(((

jack has def tried to eat jeffs kidneys but give up cuz jeff woke up 💔💔

toby is an AVID game theory/matpat stan like he loves watching everything matpat is in so when he announced his retirement….lets say it was ROUGH.

slender puts all of sally’s drawings on the fridge and when they isn’t enough room he would rather buy another fridge then get rid of them

masky is like the stressed out older sibling 🤷‍♀️

ben has drank paint.

has a snapchat gc where they send each other snaps

whenever slender and jeff (or anyone for that matter) talk/argue slender has to bend at a 90 degree angle 😭😭

devon’s headcannons:

definitely butt dials people and scares the shit outta them 💀

going along with that devon totally prank calls people with ben and is like “is ur refrigerator running” 😭

her and jack watch reality tv shows (love and hiphop, dr phil, kardashins, etc)

devon’s fav movie is donnie darko…😁

she always sends jack funny tiktoks while he sends her reels

her chainsaws name is jellybean !

sometimes when she goes out with the proxys she brings fake slender pages (saying stuff like “bitchless” and the entire bee movie script) and hangs them up (but slender always finds them and yells at her)

her fav slenderbrother is probably trenderman

PERSONALLY i think that like the demon and jack are two different ppl so like whenever ‘the beast’ gets out it’s not rlly jack? yk?

so one time ‘the beast’ was fed up with jack actually letting himself feel feelings for devon that he brought devon to the tree where she got hung, to kill her 😁 but dw he failed but jack felt bad after ☹️👎

has told hoodie to ‘turn that frown upside down’….

goes up to masky and gets up real close and whispers… “i know what you are..” and just walks away..

maxine’s headcannons:

isn't quite used to newer slang so she still talks how people in the 1920s did and nobody really understands her that well...

she hates her cellphone and WILL NOT use it unless it's direly needed.

she definitely has a record collection but it's all jazzy and "old-timey" music and she does not let anyone else near her records or her record player

she would teach ben how to ballroom dance and then force him to have dancing sessions with her because her favorite thing to do when she was human was to dance at parties

slenderman FOR SURE banned smoking in the house but maxine is allowed to break that rule so she waltzes around the house with her huge cigarette holder bullying jeff cause he definitely wants to smoke.

she generally dislikes getting help with wounds and stuff because of all the malpractice that was preformed on her when she was human

the phantom of the opera (1925) is her absolute favorite movie and one day slender comes back from the store with the 2004 version and she literally falls in love with him right at that moment

she's like your grandma that 1. doesn't know how to work her phone (or tv or anything) and 2. says things that she thinks mean one thing and they actually don't... like for example....maxine: im sending lols jack: maxine someone died...why are you laughing out loud... maxine: oh i thought that meant lots of love :( jack: oh my fucking god bro

the effects of her lobotomy pop up from time to time when she's doing stuff so sometimes she loses the ability to focus and kind of "dumbs down" because people who are lobotomized often lose their higher levels of intellectuals and then she loses the ability to emotionally respond so slender has to help her out and keep an eye on her cause she might do something dumb. :(( then once she comes back she feels so bad that slender had to basically babysit her and he feels worse cause how could anyone do his love like that

IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN THIS BUT- maxine and slenderman compliment eachother so well. he's a gentleman and she's a ladylike woman and they just...fit perfectly together

her favorite modern (ish) movie is the shining cause it reminds her of the good old days and she would be like "ah yes i remember when people would kill at parties" and everyone else is like "what"

her 1920s brain loves coloring books cause she's probably never been stimulated via colors so she has a bunch of coloring books and people come over and are like "slender i didn't know you found a child" and he's all like "oh no that's just maxine"

i think sometimes she forgets she doesn't live alone and she will walk out of her room in her underwear and is like "oh great heavens my bad gs"

- love always, kat + devina <3

[im-not-a-l0ser]

I realised today, back when I was actively advertising that I am a fairly reputable source for the vocabulary used in Hatchetfield because I only live 4 hours away from Lake Michigan, I was being an idiot.

Because the main people I'm advertising that fact to, are not American. I'm sure other Americans know that Midwesterners say 'pop' interchangeably with 'soda,' we say 'tennis shoes,' as a synonym for 'sneakers,' etc. But British people might not know that, and then there are more complicated and specific ones, like... I think the one to get me to start saying "Hey, ask me to beta read if you think the phrasing is off. I'll be able to verify or help," was reading a story where Max said "Just a bit," or something of the like, rather than "Lil bit." I'm sure if you're not American, or maybe even not Midwesternern, you probably wouldn't realise why that's a flaw, so that's who needs help.

But 4 hours is really far for someone not American. So me saying "I'm only 4 hours away," might make them think 'oh thats way too far, not reliable.'

But in reality, it's really not that far in America. Like, it's not a quick drive by any means, but if I was told "Hey, we're going to lake michigan today, it'll be a four hour drive there and back," I would probablty just shrug and be like "Okay, whatever."

[luke-hughes43]

Hey!

So this is my first time writing something and then publishing it so I'd love feedback. All I ask is that you be nice about it pls! Hope you like it!

Background: You and Luke have been best friends since birth and you both are freshman at the University of Michigan. You have had feelings for him since you were 15 and always thought that he didn’t reciprocate them so you never told him. One night, at a party thrown by the hockey team, everything between you and Luke changes.

This is best friends to lovers and there’s a bit of jealous Luke.

Y/N’s POV

So Luke invited me to some party that the upperclassman were throwing to celebrate the win they got tonight. Told me to bring my roommate, Kathryn (I call her Kat),  who has become my best friend. We show up at like 10:45 and quickly find a drink. After that we go off to find Luke.

We find him with a couple of his teammates. I smile when I see him and he returns it. He says, “Y/N/N you made it!”

“I always do when you ask me too. Great game tonight.” I say with a smile. He smiles and pulls me in for a hug. I graciously hug him finding comfort in his arms like always. 

Kat pulls my attention, “Hey, lets go find our girls. I think I saw them in the living room. You can flirt with Luke later.”

“Fine. I’ll see you later moose.” I flash a smile at him. He smiles back and releases his hold on me before I head off with Kat. She asks, “When are you gonna tell him how you feel?”

“I’m not. He’s my best friend. I’m not gonna ruin that.” I say.

She sighs and drops the conversation. She’s been trying to get me to tell him since we got a little too wine drunk one night and I blurted out that I’m in love with him. She drags me over to the rest of our friend group that always gets invited to hockey events. 

We all just start dancing and having a good time together. I volunteer to get everyone new drinks. I grab everyone seltzers and we just keep having a good time. Some guy that I recognize from my econ class comes over, I think his name is nick, and starts flirting with me. 

“Hey gorgeous.” He smiles. I smile back, “Hey. It’s nick right? I think we have econ together.”

“We do. You are the one always asking and answering the questions from the professor. Really smart girl.” He says with a smirk on his face. He puts his hands around my waist and steps a little closer to me. I smile up at him getting a little shy, “Well thank you.”

“You here with Hughes?” He asks.

I shake my head, “No. He invited me but I’m here with my friends. Why?”

“I always see you around with him and everything. I like knowing how tough the competition is.” He says striking at me some more which makes me confused. 

“What do you mean?”

“How about you let me take you out sometime and I show you what I mean?”

“Ok sure.” I say smiling at him. He’s a pretty good looking guy and since Luke isn’t interested I might as well move on. We start having a conversation about our class together as we know that we have it in common. Luke comes over and interrupts, “Hey can I borrow her for a sec? Thanks.”

He doesn’t give either of us time to respond before he’s pulling my by the arm away from Nick. He gets me upstairs and alone. He looks pissed off and angrily says, “What the hell were you doing down there?”

“Talking to Nick?” I say like it’s obvious. He snaps back, “You were flirting with him!”

“Ok and?”

“Do you seriously not see why I’m upset?”

“No. Why should I? All you did was drag me away and get mad about me talking to him. That’s all you’ve done since we got to school Luke, get mad at me for talking to other guys.”

“It’s because I love you Y/N!”

“What?” I say confused. 

“I love you Y/N. I have since were like 14 or something. I never thought that you would feel the same so I never said anything but it’s killing me. I’m in love with you and I have been for years. I can’t keep watching you flirt with guys over and over again.”

“Luke…” I start but he cuts me off, “I get it that you don’t feel the same and I’m sorry that if I just ruined everything but I love you and you deserve to know and…” 

I cut him off by kissing him. It takes a second to register in his head what’s going on but once it does, he’s pulling me close to him. My hands go the back of his neck and I start playing with the ends of his hair.

Eventually we pull away for air and we’re both breathing heavily. I say, “I love you too Luke. I have for a while.”

He smiles and kisses me softly, “well then, I guess that only leaves room for one question. Y/N L/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

“I’d be honored to.” I say with a smile. 

We kiss one last time before going back to the party. He leads me back down while holding my hand. We head over to his friends and I stay tucked into his side as his arm is wrapped around my shoulder holding me close. My eyes scan the room for Kat and she gives me a look that questions what happened.

I smile and nod at her which is all she needs to put the pieces together that I finally told him about my feelings. She smiles back and jumps a little bit which makes me laugh. My attention is pulled back to the guys when I hear Dylan Duke, Luke’s best friend and roommate say, “Looks like hughesy finally made a move. Only took you 4 years.”

The guys all start giving Luke shit about waiting so long and it causes me to blush and hide in Luke’s chest. He tightens his grip on me and says, “alright alright. We get it, I waited a while to tell her. Can we move on please?”

The conversation gets changed and Luke just rubs his hand up and down my back. I stick with him the rest of the night with a smile on my face, finally being with the boy that I’ve loved since I was 15.

[cuttergauthier]

Hate Me First, Love Me Later

Josh Norris x Female Tkachuk Reader

Warning: against, Swear words, wedding, Alcohol, fluff

Flashbacks is in Italic

word count:6.3k

Authors note: This is the longest Fic i've ever written, it' an enemies to lovers fic with Josh. This Fic has time jumps. Also let me know if you want me to make this an au🤍

This Insta Edit coming out that follows this fic.

let me know what you guys think🤍

Summer 2018

It is currently summer, and I am at home in St. Louis with my family. Hockey season is officially over which means both my brothers are home. I am currently in my room sitting on my bed and I have both University letters that I applied for in front of me right now, I'm scared to open them. 

My dream school has always been Ottawa but it’s hard to get accepted. My second choice is Michigan since the Norris family lives pretty close to Ann Arbor. The only thing that sucks is that Josh will be a Sophomore at Michigan and we do not get along.

We’ve known each other since we were kids, Brady and Josh played in the Untdp together which is when we met, our parents became good friends. Dalton has always been like an older brother to me. Josh on the other hand has always been mean to me, whether it was insulting me, or pulling my hair when we were 12 years old or making fun of me in front of my friends and it never got better. I thought back to the first time I met Josh.

Flashback

We are 15 years old, it is my first time spending the summer at the Hughes Lake house along with my family and Josh’s family.

We just got to the Lake house when Ellen and Traci came outside with Josh.

“Josh this is Yn, she is Brady's younger sister and she's going to be spending the summer with us.” Traci told Josh. Josh made a disgusting look when he looked at me and then back at his mother.

“I don’t want to be friends with her” he told his mom before going back inside the house. I looked at my mom with a sad look. Her, Traci and Ellen gave me a sad smile.

“I’m sorry Yn, he’s not usually like this, it’ll get better I promise '' Traci reassured me.

I nodded.

End of flashback

It never got better, it only got worse.

I snapped out of it when there was a knock on my door. 

“Come in,” I said. Matthew poked his head in the room smiling, but it soon disappeared when he saw the nervous look on my face. He came in and closed the door behind him. He made his way to the bed and sat in front of me.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” He asked worriedly.

I sighed and shocked my head before pointing and both letters that are next to him. He looked and his eyes widened.

“When did they come in?” He asked, looking back at me.

“This morning, mom gave them to me. I told her I wanted to open them alone before telling everyone but I'm scared” I told him. 

He smiled softly at me before picking them up and giving them to me.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” He asked.

“Would you?” 

“Of course, now open them so I know which shirt I’ll need to buy to support you” he said smiling. I chuckled before putting the Michigan letter down and opening my Ottawa letter. 

I took a deep breath before smiling and reading the letter. My smile soon disappeared when I learned I am on the waitlist.

“What does it say?” Matthew asked worriedly.

I brushed off tears that were threatening to fall. I shock my head.

“Waitlisted” I said sadly.

“Yn, it’s going to be okay, even if you don’t start there, you might be able to go after your first year,” he said. I nodded. I knew all of that, I just wish I could have been accepted immediately.

I grabbed the Michigan letter and opened it. I read it, and I got accepted. Matthew raised his eyebrows in question. I nodded my head. Matt leaned forward to pull me in a hug.

“I’m proud of you no matter what, and in Michigan you’ll have Josh and Quinn,” he said, trying to encourage me. I scoffed, pulling away from the hug and giving him a ‘are you for real’ look.

Matthew laughed.

“Look, maybe this will get you and Josh to be friends,” he said hopefully.

“I doubt it Matt, please don’t tell any of them i’m going there” I said. He nodded.

“I won’t but Brady might tell Quinn who might tell Josh, and we all know that mom and dad will tell Dwayne and Traci” he said, making me groan.

“Come on, let’s go tell everyone the news” he said, taking my hand and pulling me downstairs where everyone was.

“Yn has something she wants to share with everyone” he said smiling.

“Did you open the letters?” Mom asked. Brady’s eyes widened.

“Oh where are you going?” Brady asked excitedly, I know he was hopping I was going to Ottawa with him.

“Michigan… I got waitlisted for Ottawa, but i’ll try again next year” I said hopeful.

Everyone smiled and came to give me a hug and congratulated me.

“As much as i wish you would be joining me in Ottawa, you won’t be alone in Michigan, Wait till I tell Quinn and Josh about this,” Brady said happily. My eyes widened, I shook my head.

“Please don’t, Josh and I don’t get along. If you tell Quinn please tell him not to tell Josh. I don't want him knowing I'll be there” I asked. 

My mom looked at me sadly.

“Can we at least tell Dwayne and Traci, same with Jim and Ellen? If there’s ever anything and your dad and I can’t be there we know that one of them will be.” My mom asked.

I nodded.

“Can you just please ask them if they don’t tell Josh?” I asked 

“I will sweetheart, I’m incredibly proud of you, all my kids are now grown ups” she said smiling softly, with tears in her eyes. 

“Don’t worry mom, Matthew still acts like a kid” Brady said, making everyone laugh.

First week, Michigan 2018

I’ve been getting settled in Michigan for the past week. My parents went back to St. Louis yesterday. I’m in a single dorm room which i’m happy about, I didn’t want a roommate.

My mom ended up telling Dwayne and Traci along with Jim and Ellen that I was starting the year here. They were all very happy, they also promised not to tell Josh and to let me do it once I was ready, but they did let Quinn know so he could keep an eye on me, or help show me around, thankfully he promised not to tell Josh.

Classes are starting soon, I’m excited yet nervous since I don’t know anyone here. I’ve never been shy so I know I'll be able to make friends, I just have to make sure not to tell them I'm related to Matthew and Brady because when  people find out that’s one of the only reasons they want to be friends.

I just hope everything goes well when classes start.

One Month, Michigan 2018

I’ve been here for a month now, classes have been good, I've made a friend whose name is Molly. Her dorm is right next to mine, it turns out her brother plays on the hockey team.

I also met her brother, I have Econ with him and a few other freshmen on the men’s hockey team. After Molly introduced me to her brother, he introduced me to Nick since we all have Econ together I usually sit with them.

The boys invited me to a party tonight which the sophomore’s are throwing at their house. I was a little hesitant to accept since Josh will be there since it’s at his house.

But it’s already been a month so he’s going to find out soon anyways plus I don’t like lying to the guys about who I am, so I ended up accepting.

Molly was also going so she asked if I wanted to pregame with her, which I gladly agreed. Jimmy ended up getting one of the seniors on the team to buy us alcohol, which thank god since if i’m going to be seeing Josh, I’ll need alcohol in my system.

Molly and I were sitting on her bed talking and drinking. I've been nervous the whole day. I don’t know how Josh will react when he sees me, will he make a scene in front of everyone? Will he tell the guys not to talk to me again? Will they listen to him?

“Yn are you okay? You look nervous” Molly asked worriedly. I sighed before nodding.

“I didn’t really tell anyone here about this but um, I already know Josh Norris and I didn’t know who your brother was before but then I found out they’re teammates. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but my family is really close with him along with the Hughes family since my brother Brady played in the Untdp with Josh and Quinn.” I said she looked at me surprised.

“It’s fine I get why you didn’t tell me you didn’t want him to find out you go here, and by Brady do you mean Brady Tkachuk?” She asked. I nodded.

“Okay then, I guess we both have brothers who play hockey,” she said, making me chuckle.

“So you’re not mad I didn’t tell you?” I asked worriedly. She shook her head and smiled.

“Not at all” she said

“Great, I was worried that when you found out you wouldn’t want to be friends anymore” I said and she laughed.

“I understand why you didn’t want anyone to know, i’m not going to stop being friends with you because of it” she said and I smiled 

“I’m just worried that Josh might cause a scene tonight when he sees me,” I said.

“If it gets to much, or he starts to make a scene, let me know and we’ll leave”

“I don’t want you to leave the party because of me” 

“Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t leave you alone” she said smiling.

After a while we met up with her brother, along with Nick. We all made our way to the party together thank god. I ended up warning them about the Josh situation, just like Molly they understood.

Once we got there we made our way to the living room where it was already packed with people. Nick and Jimmy went to get us some drinks. When they got back they gave Molly and I a white claw. I’m already feeling a little drunk, but not too bad.

We kept talking when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I turned around confused to see a happy Quinn Hughes, which made me smile. Quinn is probably one of the Nicest guys ever, I like him, and unlike Josh he actually likes me.

Quinn Smiled brightly.

“I thought that was you, how are you enjoying Michigan?” He rambled before pulling me in a hug. I Chuckled.

“I like it,” I replied. He pulled away from the hug before looking at me confused.

“I’m glad, remember to text me if you ever need anything?” 

“I know” I said 

“ I could have showed you around campus, you know” he said. I could tell he was a little hurt that I ask him.

“I’m sorry Quinn, but I didn’t want to risk Josh finding out” I said, Quinn’s eyes softened.

“Well if he tries anything, let me know, he’s not the only one who lives here” he said.

“Thanks Quinn” I said.

“He’s in the kitchen now if you just want to get it over with,” Quinn said.

I looked at him before looking at Molly and the guys. They nodded.

“Okay sure probably best to just do that, if it goes south Molly, can yo…” I started but she cut me off

“I’ll rescue you, I promise,” she said with a smile.

“Thank you” I said before looking back at Quinn and nodding.

As we started walking I got even more nervous than I already was.

we made our way to the guys.

Josh has his back to us so he can’t see us making our way to them, but Will looked our way and his eyes widened, he was at the lake house for a bit this summer.

Josh turned around confused but when his eyes landed on me, he was pissed.

He met Quinn and I half way And looked down at me with a glare. If I was anyone else they probably would have been terrified and honestly I was a little bit, Josh is way taller than me, I'm only 5”5 so he’s towering over me.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he said harshly.

Quinn looked at him Annoyed

“Josh seriously, leave her alone. She’s a student here now, and unlike you I actually like her along with some of the freshmen so she’s not going anywhere "Quinn told him.

Josh rolled his eyes and laughed. What the hell was so funny?

“Just because you go here now, doesn’t mean I'm going to start being nice to you” he said looking me straight in the eyes.

“Wouldn’t expect anything else from you” I said annoyed.

He just rolled his eyes and went back to the rest of the guys.

“Well that went better than expected, '' Quinn said surprised, which made me laugh. 

“Same Quinn, I honestly thought It was going to be worse.”

If it wasn’t the fact that Josh was angry with me, I actually thought he looked amazing. I thought, I snapped out of it, what the hell? I can’t stand the guy and now I think he looks good? I think I had enough to drink.

March 2019

(Pretend they made it to the big ten)

With Josh finding out that I'm in Michigan I thought it would be worse than it is. I think Quinn has been keeping him in check, which I am very grateful for.

I’ve been going to the hockey game with Molly, we got even more close.

Even though Josh still tries to make my life a living hell, the rest of the guys on the team like me.

I reapplied to Ottawa about a month ago. I'm still waiting for my acceptance letter by email, I didn’t tell the guys, the only one who knows is Molly.

It’s now Monday and this weekend the guys are going to Minnesota for the Big Ten Championship. Molly was going with her parents since it’s a big game for the boys. 

I really hope they win, they’ve been playing amazing. 

I am currently in my dorm room working on some homework when my phone starts ringing. I looked to see that Traci was calling me.

I answered.

“Hey Traci” I said happily, she’s always been like a second mom to me.

“Hey sweetheart, what are you up to?” She asked

“Right now I am finishing some homework, what’s up?” I asked.

“That’s good, I always have to keep those grades up,” she said, making me laugh.

“I was actually wondering if you wanted to come with Dwayne and I to Minnesota this weekend for the Big Ten Championship game?” She asked.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Josh and I don’t exactly get along” 

“Sweetheart, that doesn’t matter, I know Molly is also going and Dwayne and I love you like a daughter so we thought we would ask, you don’t have to if you don’t want to” she said softly. I thought about it for a few seconds. I can complete all my homework before, and that way I won’t be alone in Ann Arbor when all my friends are in Minnesota.

I smiled softly.

“I’d love to,” I said.

“Perfect, I can’t wait, I’ll send you the details” she said happily.

“Thank you Traci”

“Anytime sweetheart, I'll let you get back to your homework” she said.

Once we said our goodbyes I hung up and texted Molly to tell her I was going to Minnesota with them, she’s excited and so am I.

Big Ten Championship, 2019

Dwayne, Traci and I got to Minnesota this Morning after we made our way to the hotel. Traci and I met up with Molly and her mom, along with Ellen and we went to do a little bit of shopping at the mall. That game is tonight, so at 3 we all made our ways back to the hotel so we could get ready for the game. 

I was nervous the whole game but luckily Michigan was able to win. Thankfully it’s Friday, and everyone is leaving to go back to Michigan tomorrow morning. The guys have already said they are throwing a party as soon as they step foot in Ann Arbor. 

As soon as the plane landed Traci and Dwayne dropped us off on Campus where we both made our way to our dorms to get ready for this party and hang out with the boys.

They’re flight is supposed to land in an hour, so we have time to chat and get ready.

When the boys were ready to get the party started Quinn texted me to let me know we could go over to the seniors house.

Once we arrived we started drinking with the boys, they were already drinking full swing when we got there. 

Talking and partying with them is always fun. 

At around 8:00 p.m. I saw Josh make his way to the kitchen, probably to get himself another drink, I followed him there. He took a beer out of the cooler, he turned around to see me there, I smiled weakly. 

“Do you mind giving me one?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes before taking a second beer and passing it to me.

I smiled

“Thank you.” I replied.

He gave me a small nod and went to walk away but I stopped him.

There was no one else in the kitchen, everyone was either in the living room or outside.

“Wait” I rushed out so he wouldn’t leave.

He stopped in his tracks before turning and looking at me. He raised his eyebrows in question.

“What?” He asked, annoyed. 

I was a little drunk but not too bad, but thankfully when I have alcohol in my system I’m not scared to talk to him.

“I just wanted to say congrats, you guys played really well” I said.

He nodded and went to walk away again.

“Why do you hate me so much?” I blurted out.

Josh rolled his eyes.

“Because I don’t like you,” he said and walked away. Why can’t he see me the same way I see him? He’s an incredible person even though he’s always mean to me, he’s nice to everyone else he’d do anything for his friends or family. I just wish he liked me.

It sucks having a crush on someone when that someone hates you.

I sighed before making my way back to Molly.

Frozen four 2019

I finally got the Letter from Ottawa. I've been accepted so it means I'll be moving there next year. Molly was a little sad when she found out I was leaving Umich but she was also excited for me to be going to my dream school, she told me that we would still stay in touch and we both promised to visit each other.

Jimmy heard the conversation and ended up telling Will who told Josh. Josh ended up coming to my door angry saying that the only reason I was going to Ottawa was because he was going to Ottawa. I was going since it’s my dream school and my brother is also there.

The argument ended in a screaming match and we haven’t talked to each other since.

I really wish we could get along but I don’t think we ever will.

I went to Tampa with Dwayne and Traci to watch the Frozen Four, sadly the boys lost, which meant Josh left for Ottawa, Quinn was leaving for Vancouver, it was an emotional time.

Once I got back to Umich, the last 2 weeks of University flew by. I said goodbye to Molly and the guys before finally heading home to St. Louis.

Three Years Later, Summer 2023

NHL playoff we’re officially over, sadly Matty lost in the finals against Vegas and got injured but they had a good run.

Everyone has been home for a while now. We are leaving today to go to New Jersey for Brady and Emma’s wedding.

I can’t wait to finally have another sister. Emma and Brady are perfect for each other, I hope someday I’ll find that type of love.

Three years went by fast, I spent the past three years in Ottawa ignoring Josh, it wasn’t that hard since he was also keeping his distance from me.

Thankfully the flight went by fast and I was able to sleep on the plane, I didn’t spend it worrying about seeing Josh. The whole Norris family along with the Hughes family will be at the wedding. As excited as I am to see Dalton, Quinn, Josh and Jack, I am not excited to see Josh.

Josh and I have seen each other a few time in Ottawa but the only time we talked to each other was to argue, it only got worse after he accused me of only going to Ottawa to make his life a living hell since I was going to be in Ottawa. I never told anyone about that fight, they all know we don’t get along so it won’t be a surprise if we get into an argument at the wedding.

My parents warned me to try and not make a scene to ruin Brady and Emma’s wedding. I totally understand that’s the last thing I want to do, plus we are all adults here.

Rehearsal dinner

Once Taryn and I were ready we met up with Matty and our parents to go to the venue.

I’m so nervous about seeing Josh, that's all I can think about. Once we get there he’s the first one I see, he’s with his brother and parents he had his back to me which meant he didn’t see me but Dalton did so he waved and smiled. I did the same, that’s when Josh turned around confused and saw me, all he did was send me a glare and went back to talking with his brother.

I really hope this doesn’t cause any trouble.

During the end of the night when everyone was around talking and drinking I made my way out on the balcony so I could get some fresh air.

I didn’t realize anyone followed me until I heard the door slide open and then shut.

I turned around only to find Josh.

I rolled my eyes and turned back around to look at the view.

If he doesn’t want to be anywhere near me, why did he follow me outside?

“What do you want Josh?” I asked, annoyed, when he came and stood next to me. I looked up to see he was looking at the sky.

He looks really good in his suit.

“I just thought I’d tell you not to cause a scene this weekend and ruin your brother’s wedding” he said

I scoffed before turning fully to look at him.

“Screw you, I was doing pretty good at ignoring you, why the hell did you have to come out here and start this?” I asked angrily.

He chuckled 

“This is what I meant all you had to do was agree and move on,” he said, pissed.

“You started it, What the hell is a matter with you? It’s always like this… why do you hate me so much?” I asked, pissed.

“Because you deserve it” 

I scoffed.

“Except I don’t… i’ll i’ve ever tried to do was be nice to you… what have I ever done to you to make you hate me so much?…” I said tears are threatening to fall. Before Josh could say anything Matt interrupted.

“That’s enough you two, don’t do this here” I heard Matt say before he pulled me away. I saw Dalton and Quinn giving me a sad look before he pulled Josh back inside.

I was so focused on the argument I never realized they’d made their way outside.

Once Josh, Dalton and Quinn made their way inside Matt, looked at me worried.

“What happened between the two of you? Usually when you guys know something important, you guys ignore each other, I mean brady always said you guys mostly ignored each other in Ottawa except for a few times… Did something happen?” Matt asked.

I sighed before nodding my head.

“When I got accepted to Ottawa three years ago as you know, I had only told Molly, but turns out Jimmy had heard so he told Will who told Josh… Josh accused me of only going to Ottawa because he was also going, so I could make his life a living hell, which is why i tried ignoring him as much as I could for the past three years” I said, wiping away the tears that rolled down my cheek.

Matthew signed before pulling me in a hug. I started to silently cry.

“I’m so sorry, Yn” he said sadly.

“Why does he hate me so much? Should have I stayed in Michigan? Should I never had moved to Ottawa in the First place?” I asked 

Should I have let him win and stayed in Michigan even though Ottawa to my dream school three years ago? Should I have left my dreams while he goes to live his? Should I leave the Job I’m supposed to start in September in Ottawa and stay in St. Louis?

“First off you Went to Ottawa because you had worked your ass off for it, so you weren’t ever going to back out. Second I don’t think he’s ever hated you, so you better not be thinking of turning that job down in Ottawa just to please him…” matt said 

“You literally just heard him, he clearly doesn’t like me… I just wish he could see me the way I see him” I blurt out. I look at Matt with wide eyes, I can't believe I just said that. 

Matt started smirking.

“Stop, you better not say anything” I pointed at him.

He raised his hands up in surrender.

“Look I won’t say anything… but guys are kinda idiots so we usually do stupid things when we like a girl… I think he might actually feel the same way he’s just too afraid to say anything, "Matt said, making me laugh.

“Yeah right” I said in disbelief, there is no way Josh feels the same way about me. I won’t believe it.

Matt and I finally made our way inside, we didn’t mention what happened to anyone, no chance was I going to ruin Brady and Emma’s night.

I didn’t see Josh anywhere so maybe he left.

Once the night was over we all made our ways to our rooms. Thankfully I'm rooming with Taryn. When I was finally ready for bed, Taryn was laying on her phone when she saw me making my way to my bed.

“What happened on the balcony tonight?” She was curious. She put her phone on the bedside table before looking at me.

I looked at her shocked, I didn’t realize anyone noticed we were there.

“You saw that?” I asked, before getting under the blanket.

“Yeah, Emma’s the one who noticed and told me, '' she said. I looked at her Guilty. Fuck i was really hopping neither Emma or Brady saw that.

Taryn saw my guilty look before she reassured me.

“Don’t worry, she wasn’t mad… she was just worried about you… apparently she thinks you like Josh or something?” She said

My eyes widened.

“What about me? Puff no…” I struggle nervously. Taryn's eyes widened before she started laughing.

“Oh my god, she was right? Why the hell didn’t you tell me this?” She asked

“Because he’s never going to feel the same way” I mumbled, but she still heard me.

“He’s an idiot if he doesn’t and you never know… maybe Dalton or even Quinn will talk some sense into him. Plus tomorrow’s the wedding and a lot of people fall in love at weddings…” she said.

“Are we still talking about Josh and I? Or is there something you want to tell me?” I laughed.

She chuckled.

“We’re still talking about you and Josh,” she said, chuckling.

“Whatever, get some sleep we have to wake up early tomorrow” I said.

“Good night sis” she said

“Good night,” I replied, yawning.

Wedding day

Taryn and I woke up early to make our way to the suite so we could get ready with Emma since we were both bridesmaids.

Emma is absolutely stunning. I know for a fact that Brady will cry, Taryn and I made a bet with Matty. Once it was time to make our way to the ceremony we made our way down to meet the groomsmen, I’m walking with Quinn thankfully. 

When Quinn saw me he smiled. I stood next to him so he gave me a side hug. 

“You look beautiful,” he said. I smiled at him.

“Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself” I said, making him chuckle.

The pair started making their way down the aisle, before it was our turn, Quinn leaned in my ear to whisper.

“Josh is going to try and talk to you at the reception… I promise everything will go alright, Dalton and I talked to him last night, you should hear him out” he said, I sent him a nod.

The ceremony went amazing, I cried during their vows. When Brady saw Emma walking down the aisle he cried, both Taryn and I sent him a look that said you better pay up.

After the ceremony we all made our way outside for pictures before going to the reception.

At the reception after the speeches I saw Josh looking at me. I thought about what Quinn said, it still made me nervous so I tried to ignore him until I was at least tipsy.

I talked with Kevin Hayes and his wife. They got married about a week ago, it was a beautiful wedding.

“Why is it that when I leave St. Louis you get traded there?” I asked smirking, He laughed and shrugged.

“Promise me you’ll visit when you visit home?” He asked

“I promise,” I said chuckling.

I saw Josh make his way to the balcony, I was finally tipsy so I went to the open bar to get another drink before making my way to him. 

I took a deep breath before opening the door.

He was leaning on the railing looking at the sky in front of him.

I made my way and stood next to him.

It was quiet for a few minutes and I was just starting to get even more nervous so I decided to speak up. 

“Quinn said you wanted to talk to me?” I asked, looking at him.

He looked at me and smiled shyly. He took a deep breath before nodding.

“I’m sorry” he said

I scoffed, is that really all he has to say?

“Sorry for what exactly?” I asked, annoyed.

He rolled his eyes

“I knew you were going to be difficult” he replied annoyed 

I signed before scratching my head.

“Look Josh I’m tired of fighting with you, why are you always so mean to me?” I said sadly.

If he could just tell me why, I'll leave him alone after and he won’t have to talk to me again.

He sighed before turning to look at me fully. He was standing right in front of me. My face was inches away from his chest. I looked up at him.

“I never meant to be so mean to you, or hurt your feelings, trust me I know, i’ve heard it from our friends and my family…” 

“Then why are you?” I whispered looking up at him.

He raised his hand to my cheek stroking it with his thumb. 

“I’m really sorry, I really like you, always have but when we first met I thought you had a crush on Jack and I guess I was jealous and according to Quinn I was very wrong but when I finally figured out that wasn’t the case I really thought you hated me for the way I treated you so I just never stopped…” he said caressing my cheek.

I looked at his eyes, I could tell he was sorry, that he meant every word he just said. 

“I never had a crush on Jack, him, Luke and Quinn have always been like brothers to me…same with your brother,  you’re the one I had a crush on and Jack figured it out so he would always tease me about it when we were kids” I said chuckling.

He smiled.  

I saw him look from my lips then back to my eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked

“I’d like that,” I said smiling.

He leaned down and smashed his lips to mine. Our lips moved in sync. I moved my hands to his chest. 

One of his hands was still on my cheek, he moved the other around my waist and pulled me closer, deepening the kiss. 

Before the kiss could get too heated we pulled away breathing heavily. I smiled looking at him.

“I’ve been waiting to do that since we were 15” he said smiling. I giggled.

“I'm glad you finally did,” I said.

I saw something in the corner of my eye at the door. I pulled slightly away only to see Quinn, Jack, Luke, Matt, and Tim Stutzle, watching us.

My eyes widened, I hid my face in Josh’s chest and groaned.

“What?” He asked, chuckling.

“We have an audience” I mumbled embarrassingly. I felt him turn his head to look at the door.

“We’re never gonna live this down are we?” He asked

“Definitely not” 

“Come on, we better go back inside before they start yelling at everyone,” Josh said, making me chuckle.

“Good idea” I said nodding

He kissed my forehead before grabbing my hand and pulling me inside.

I’m really happy, I don’t even think the teasing we were about to get will even ruin my mood.

I saw Jack giving money to Luke and Quinn.

“Did you guys bet on us?” Josh asked them, surprised.

“Hell yeah we did” Jack said excitedly.

“There’s more than one, Brady, Tim and I have one going with Emma and Taryn, guess the girls were right about the fact a wedding loves bringing people together” Matt said. 

“You better go pay up and put Emma in a better mood and piss off Brady” I said, he laughed.

“Come on let’s go find Brady we’ll need his money too” Matt said, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me with him. I laughed while Tim and I followed behind. Josh stayed with the guys.

“You couldn’t have waited until we went to the lake house next week?” Matt asked me right before we find Brady

“Sorry Matty,” I said smiling, I'm not sorry at all.

Brady was talking with a few of his teammates, Emma was talking with some of the girls along with Taryn not far from him.

Brady turned around when we got to him.

He pulled us into a hug.

“I’m Married, can you believe it?” He said excitedly. I couldn’t stop laughing.

“Tone it down, we owe money to Taryn and Emma” Matt said

Brady's eyes widened then his jaw dropped.

“Seriously, you couldn’t have waited till next week? Did it really have to be on my wedding day?” He asked. 

“Clearly your wife is okay with that,” I said, smirking.

“Yeah, yeah here” he said, handing the money to me. Matt and Tim did the same. I made my way to Emma and Taryn, they both smiled when they saw me.

“Well i’m about to make both of you very happy” I said, they looked at me confused until i showed them the money.

“You guys won the bet” I continued.

“Oh my god, Finally” Emma said, hugging me. Taryn joined us.

“We’ve all been waiting for this to happen” Taryn said

“Well I'm just glad someone believed it would.” I said, making them laugh.

“I’m pretty sure everyone believed it would, we just didn’t know when” Emma said.

“Well i’m glad that i got to help you both make a little bit of money, i’ll let you guys go back to chatting, I’ll find you both later… enjoy your wedding sis "I told Emma.

“Thanks Yn, couldn’t be happier to receive two sisters,” she said.

“Love you both” i said smiling 

“We love you too, now go back to Josh “ Taryn said. I started laughing while making my way back to Josh, who smiled when he saw me.

New Jersey, Two years later.

“You may now kiss the bride” the officiant said 

Josh put his hand on my waist and pulled me into a passionate kiss.

All the cheering in the back was loud.

 When we pulled away, we learned our foreheads together, smiling.

“I love you Mr. Norris” I said

“I love you more Mrs. Norris” he replied

“We finally have a sister” I heard Dalton yelling in the background making me giggle.

I can’t believe I just married the love of my life, it feels like forever ago we had just confessed our feelings for each other, on this exact balcony and now we're married.

I looked behind Josh to see my Brother Brady who is one of the groomsmen, he was crying which made me laugh.

“Brady, when did you become the emotional one in the family?” I joked, he just gave me the finger, with Matty slapping his hand down.

Looks like I found a love like Brady and Emma After all, I couldn’t be happier.

[greazyfloz]

Hi! Can I get angst 4 or 13 or both if you can, with Quinn Hughes

I Can't Keep Living Like This

Angst: 4. “What are we?” “I can’t keep living like this” & 13. “You left you can’t just come back”

This one might suck, sorry!!!!!!

What Quinn and I have is confusing. I’m the first person he calls when he gets home from the road, I’m who he calls when he is upset, I go to all his home games and we see each other almost every single day. We because friends quick and it was a joke that we were dating fast. It became confusing when we had too much to drink one night and went home with him. It became a trend and I even started to believe we were dating.

We just got back from bye week. Quinn asked me to go to Michigan with him and of course I said yes. Michigan was fun. We just rested and went out to the bars back home. On the plane back home Quinn brought me in close and I feel asleep in his arms. The older lady beside me over at us while the plane landed to tell us how cute we where and Quinn blushed and shyly said thanks. So obviously I think that he thinks there is something there as well. He drives me home then proceeds with his night.

Later that night I’m scrolling through Instagram to see Quinn posted. He posted 4 photos in his post two of which look familiar. I did a double take swiping through to realize they are familiar because I was cut out. Out of all the pictures we took he chose the ones he could cut me out of. It does sting a little but I have to keep reminding myself that we aren’t technically together. 

The next night Quinn makes his way over after his practice and we are lying on the couch. He brings me in to kiss my lips before getting up and walking to the bathroom. His phone buzzes beside me and the screen lights up. I can’t help but look to see “Emma” light up on his phone. I quickly pull out my phone and check his following for an Emma. He follows 3. I click each and look through their photos but was interrupted by Quinn walking back into the room. 

He sits back on the couch and wraps me in his arms again. “What are we?” I ask slightly pushing myself away from him to look him in the eyes.

“We are um- friends?” Quinn says like he is unsure.

“Quinn, I want to be more” Quinn’s eyebrows tense and he rubs his forehead

“We are just having fun Y/n, I didn’t think there was strings attached” he replies. I get up as I feel myself tear up a little, “What?”. 

“Quinn, you bring me home from the bar all the time. I’ve become closer to you then anyone ever before. And for God sake you brought me back to Michigan. I thought you would have looked at me slightly the same”

“Where is all this coming from?” Quinn asks

“Quinn I fell in love with you but I can’t keep living like this” I just stare at him, “Can you say something?” I say, attitude rips from my tone

“What exactly do you want me to say? You just sprung this shit up on me” Quinn starts to raise his voice

“Quinn I can’t just be your friend” I say tears fogging my vision

“I- I- I gotta go” he says storming out

I haven’t heard anything from Quinn since that night. And I didn’t reach out either. The whole situation was weird but one thing I almost felt certain about was that I was never going to see Quinn ever again. 

I was wrong though. It is around 1am when I hear someone knock on my door. Living alone, I didn’t answer and pray they went away. I curled back in bed and pulled my phone out to call the front desk when I get a call from Quinn. I answer but regret it before saying “Hello?”

“Open the door” I don’t answer because of shock, “Please”. I hang the phone up and walk to the door opening it. I see Quinn sitting across the hall with his back against the wall. 

“You left, you can’t just come back” I say watching him struggle to get up, “Have you been drinking?” I ask

“Doesn’t matter, because I love you” Quinn slurs

“No you don’t Quinn. Your already told me, friend” I say back starting to close the door.

“Wait!” says but I shut the door. I turn my back leaning it against it then sliding down letting myself cry. After a while I make my way over to the couch where I fall asleep.

I wake up in the morning and get changed to go get coffee, but when I open the door to my apartment I see Quinn in the same clothes as last night sitting on the floor sleeping. I bend down nudging him a bit waking him up. He wakes up and looks up at me. “Come in” I say standing back up and opening the door.

Quinn follows and I pull out a glass and fill it with water before handing it to him. “I meant what I said” Quinn says taking the glass of water from my hands, “I do love you”.

“Then why did you let me leave” I question

“Because I was scared” he starts, “We were having fun and I didn’t want it to end if I put a label on it”

“That doesn’t explain cutting me out of pictures and putting it on Instagram so all the other girls you are talking to wont see” I snap

“I’m sorry, I just- you don’t post with me and I didn’t know what we were either” Quinn starts to ramble, and I start to feel bad. I place a hand on his shoulder and he stops. “Just let me love you” I try to hide a smile but it slips. 

“Okay” I say softly wrapping him in for a long passionate hug.

[winniemaywebber]

stop - muse a holds muse b back from walking back out into the fray

or

courting - muse a rests one hand on muse b’s back and holds out the other for muse b to hold to help them climb up/down something

for whichever of your girls you feel inspired for today, please!

-lestweforget5

hiiiii friend! thanks so much for this. I loved writing this one (from this prompt list, feel free to drop them in my ask box if one seems to pique your interest!) I wrote for Olive and Dougie 🥰

She is a little miffed. The effects of being apart from her best friend Valencia were beginning to take hold, despite her traveling back to Brooklyn only two days ago. Val and Ev had made the journey to Michigan with Olive, the pair of them staunchly certain on making sure their girl got there safely.

courting: muse a rests one hand on muse b's back and holds out the other for muse b to hold to help them climb up/down something.

Olive awakens with a sigh, patting the empty space next to her. She had hoped that Dougie would still be sound asleep next to her, whimpering slightly as he dreamt before curling himself around her when he feels she's shuffled closer to him. Alas, he is nowhere to be found, his side of the bed cooled off making it obvious that he'd been up for quite some time.

“You don't have to, Ernest,” she had protested after they'd been told the price of three train tickets to Lansing. “I can make it myself!”

“No,” he had replied sternly, his eyes darting towards his fiancee, Val. “We are coming with you.”

“Too right,” the Brooklyn native had interjected, her hand going to grab Olive’s and their fingers intertwining. “Besides,” she sighs. “If he doesn't see his guy, he'll be upset. Think he's having withdrawal symptoms.”

“Hey!” he teases, hand comically on his heart. “How did you guess?”

The girls had, of course, spoken on the phone the very second Val and Everett had arrived back in Val's hometown, the pair of them chuckling down the phone receiver. It was a strange feeling, sharing the same sleeping and living space, the same air and body heat for almost two years to now being apart like this. The pair of them feel as if a part of them is missing, and it's a part they both need in order to function. At this realization, Olive feels her chest tighten as tears stream down her cheeks, wiping them away quickly when she hears the creak of the wooden stairs as someone climbs up them. There is a soft rap on the door, before the golden door knob rattles as it opens.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Dougie greets softly, retrieving a tray and closing the door by kicking it closed with his leg. “Thought you might be hungry,” he says, gesturing towards the tray that he puts down on the blanket. She looks down and sees toast, coffee, a bowl of fruit and a delicate pink daisy he'd stuck in a small jam jar. Before she can help it, she feels a sob rise up from her chest to her throat once again, two fat tears dropping into the coffee.

“Hey, sugar,” he soothes, moving closer to her to wipe his thumb under her eyes in order to dry them. “What's up?”

“It's so silly,” she sniffs. “This is just all so different and I don't do well with change. I'm still used to waking up with Val in the hut and now–ugh, I'm sorry. I'm happy to be here with you, truly I am. It's just…”

“Strange?” he asks, finishing the sentence for her. “You've had a lot of changes all at once, Ollie. I get it, honey.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, wiping her nose quickly. “You got up early. I thought you'd still be asleep.”

“Well,” he shrugs, his hand on top of hers. “I had a feeling you'd be a little sad today, so I did something for the two of us and thought we could go out.”

“Oh, Dougie,” she cries. “I don't think I'm feeling good enough to even go beyond the backyard.”

“Then that's where we'll go. Saves on gas,” he jokes, leaning over and kissing her forehead. “No rush, okay? Eat, relax, come down when you're ready.”

“Okay,” she breathes, biting into her toast and sipping the coffee. “Perfect.”

—

Eventually venturing down the wooden stairs, Olive takes one last look in the mirror that hangs on a wall at the bottom of the stairs, smoothing her dress of a final few wrinkles.

“Hey,” she smiles, as Dougie turns around to greet her. His eyes soften the moment he sees her. “I know we're only going in the backyard but I thought I'd feel better if I made myself pretty.”

“You look beautiful, sweetheart. As always.”

“Thank you, darling,” she replies, her cheeks turning a sweet shade of pink. Her eyes crinkle as she smiles at him, that dimple he's crazy about showing itself as she grins. He takes the two steps that separate them and kisses her deeply, her arms winding around his neck while his fall to her waist, momentarily running his hands over the soft material of her dress as he pulls her even closer.

“Come on,” he says. “Everything is set.”

—

A simple, large gingham blanket lays on the slightly overgrown lawn under three large trees, the blossoms just beginning to bloom at the turn of the season. They sit with their faces toward the sun, the soft warmth of it already making Olive feel a little less alien in her surroundings. Right above them is a tree house, the wood creaking in the gentle breeze of the day.

“Is this a picnic?” she asks, eyes narrowing playfully at him.

“Sure is, Ol. Do you like it?”

“I love it, James. This is gorgeous.”

“Phew,” he breathes out, comically wiping his brow. “I'm still trying to figure out what we both like to do together. So much of our time used to be taken up that we never really discussed it.”

“War tends to do that, my love,” she laughs, kissing his cheek as he sits beside her. “Thank you,” she murmurs, nesting into him.

“Anything for you, doll. Here,” he says, rummaging in a picnic basket. “Made your favorite.”

“PB and J?” she asks keenly, unwrapping it right away. “And how did you cut it? Crank’s way or Gale's?”

They both laugh, reminiscing on Olive's first PB and J where the whole gang had convened in the Mess Hall kitchen to give British Olive the true American experience of her first peanut butter and jelly sandwich. All had helped, including Croz spreading the peanut butter, Val spreading the jelly, Helen finding a plate. Ev even cut the crusts off before handing it to Egan, who, instead of making himself useful, took what he called a “tester bite,” all while Charles and Gale debated whether it tastes better cut into rectangles or triangles. Crank had won the toss, Olive presented with two neat white triangles on a small plate.

“Crank's way - the only way,” Dougie says, taking a bite of his own. “I'll never forget the moment I saw your life change after taking your first bite.”

“Yep,” she giggles, the bread sticking to her teeth a little. “Been my favorite ever since; but only if you make it.”

“Why?”

“Tastes better that way.”

Olive turns her head up slightly to shade her eyes from the glowing afternoon sun, finding a wooden board on top of a few conjoined tree branches.

“What's up there?” she asks, pointing to what she's just seen.

“Oh, that?” he asks as he looks up. “My old treehouse. Dad and I built it one summer.”

She stands, wiping her hands on her skirt and finds a small set of stairs leading up to a doorway.

“Can I go inside?”

“Nuh-uh,” he says, shaking his head. “Read the sign, please.”

“No Girls Allowed,” she reels off. “James Douglass, you are–”

“I know. And there's proof that I've always been this way. Cheeky and insufferable.”

“Let me in, meanie.”

“Only because it's you,” he winks, leaving the blanket and joining her at the stairs. He goes up first, making sure the old, rotting wood would hold the pair of them. When he is sure, he places one hand on the small of her back and pushes a little, allowing his free hand to grip on to hers to help her up a little.

“This is adorable, James,” she squeals, taking practically tiptoe like steps to avoid the wood creaking or anything falling. “So cute.”

“Don't let Mom catch you up here with me,” he laughs, once again nodding towards the sign.

“Insufferable,” she sighs, shaking her head.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “But you love me.”

“I do,” she smiles, taking his hand in her own and stroking the back of it with her thumb. “Gimme a smooch,” she giggles, pulling him towards her. “No-one's around to see you break your own rule.”