#would also explain his ignorence about some things

[alba1221141]

Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

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6

Jinx

“What an absolutely fucking tragic story.”

“Boy meets girl,” I say, flipping the book open and letting it smack the table with a loud thwack.

“They swap a couple of lines, maybe a little eye-fucking across the room, and then bam—marriage, murder, and melodrama. Honestly, Romeo and Juliet is just horny teenagers making bad decisions with a death toll. Kinda iconic, but also… pathetic.”

Y/N’s trying so hard not to laugh, but that little twitch at the corner of her mouth gives her away.

She glances down at her notebook like it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world, but I know better.

I always know better.

“Come on, admit it,” I press, leaning closer.

“This whole thing is just Shakespeare projecting his wet dreams onto paper. I mean, would you throw yourself into a coffin for someone you just met?”

Y/N looks up, her face a little red, and gives me this look—half-exasperated, half-amused. “It’s supposed to be romantic,” she says, her tone just a little too patient.

“Oh, sure,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Nothing screams romance like poison and stab wounds. That’s hot. Super sexy.” I lean back in my chair, grinning.

“Although, I guess dying for someone is one hell of a flex. Bet Juliet was into some kinky shit.”

“Jinx!” she hisses, her eyes wide as she glances around the library, like the ghost of Shakespeare himself might pop out of the shelves and strike me down.

“What?” I ask, throwing my hands up.

“You think Romeo was all sweet talk and poetry? Nah, that guy was definitely whispering filthy shit to her under the balcony. Bet he was like, Juliet, you light up my world—now get on your-”

Y/N lets out this strangled noise, somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and covers her face with her hands. “You’re impossible,” she mutters.

But I can see her shoulders shaking.

“Impossible, but not wrong,” I say, leaning forward with a smirk.

“You know I’m right. Horny teens and bad decisions—they go hand in hand. Speaking of…” I waggle my eyebrows at her.

“You ever had someone wax poetic about you? Or, I don’t know, climb a fire escape to declare their undying love?”

“No,” she says firmly, her voice muffled behind her hands.

“Shame,” I say, tapping my chin. “You’re missing out. Although, honestly? If someone pulled that shit with me, I’d probably just drag them inside and—”

“Jinx!” she whisper-yells, her voice high-pitched and scandalized.

Her face is so red now I’m almost worried she’s going to combust.

Almost.

I grin, sitting back in my chair and crossing my arms. “What? I’m just saying. Life’s short. Might as well enjoy it. Or are you more of a ‘tragic, yearning stares from a distance’ type?”

She gives me a look.

The kind of look that says I’m pushing my luck.

But I catch the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes.

It’s faint.

But it’s there, and it’s enough to keep me going.

“Can we please focus?” she says, her voice trembling with suppressed laughter.

“Sure,” I say, picking up the book again and thumbing through the pages. “But I’m warning you now, I’m not letting Romeo off the hook for being the patron saint of bad decisions.”

Y/N leans back in her chair, pressing her lips together like she’s trying desperately not to laugh.

Her cheeks are pink, and there’s this quiet glow to her that tugs at something in my chest.

I ignore it.

“So,” I say, flipping the book open again with an exaggerated flourish.

“Are we supposed to write some revolutionary take on this mess, or is it just vibes and clichés? You’re the genius here, enlighten me.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s that little curve to her lips, the one that makes her whole face soften. “Themes,”

“We’re supposed to analyze the themes, connect them to modern relationships, and explain why the story is still relevant.”

“Relevant?” I snort, leaning back. “Oh, sure. Because every teenager I know is out here marrying strangers after one dance and dying for them two days later. So relatable.”

“You’re impossible,” she says, shaking her head, but her voice is warm, light, teasing.

“Thank you,” I say, grinning.

She picks up her pen again, her focus shifting back to the notebook in front of her.

Naturally, I lean over, because how could I not snoop, but she slams it shut before I can even get a glimpse.

“Oh, come on,” I groan, clutching my chest like she’s mortally wounded me. “What’s the big secret? Writing a love letter? A sonnet? A tragic ode to unrequited love?”

“It’s not a secret,” she says firmly, though the way her fingers tighten around the notebook tells a different story. “It’s just not finished.”

“Uh-huh.” I narrow my eyes at her, my grin sharp and unrelenting.

“You’re not secretly crushing on Romeo, are you? Or maybe…”

My voice drops, dripping with mock drama. “Maybe you’ve got your own Romeo? Someone you’re tragically pining for?”

Her cheeks turn a brilliant shade of crimson, and her eyes dart everywhere except at me.

“Oh my God,” I say, sitting up like I’ve just cracked the biggest mystery of the century. “You do! Who is it? Come on, spill. I need to know everything.”

“There’s no one!” she protests, but her voice is high-pitched, and her fingers fidget with the corner of her notebook.

“Liar,” I say, my grin turning downright devious.

I tap my chin like I’m deep in thought.

“Is it someone in our class? That broody guy who always acts like he’s too cool to care? Or…” I pause, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe it’s a girl?”

Her pen freezes mid-air.

For a second, she looks at me like I’ve uncovered her deepest, darkest secret.

Bingo.

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Y/N

I can feel my heart picking up its pace, a strange fluttering in my chest that has nothing to do with the subject matter at hand. Jinx’s words echo in my mind, her teasing lingering far longer than I’d like to admit. The way she looked at me, the mischievous grin on her face—it’s enough to make me squirm, but I won’t let her see that.

“No one,” I reply firmly, hoping the edge in my voice sounds more convincing than it feels. “I’m not—there’s just no one.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms with a soft chuckle. “Alright, if you say so.”

I focus on my notebook, flipping a page with deliberate care. The task at hand should be enough to keep me grounded, and yet the thought of her knowing something I’ve never fully acknowledged myself unsettles me. It feels as though she’s pierced a part of me I’m still figuring out, and that makes me more uncomfortable than I’m willing to admit.

Still, I refuse to let that show. Instead, I straighten up, refocusing on our assignment. “Regardless, Romeo and Juliet is still a farcical tragedy,” I begin, keeping my tone calm and collected, but there’s a subtle bite to it. “The impulsiveness, the poor decisions—it’s a pattern in a lot of Shakespeare’s works. It speaks to the nature of youth, to desire, rather than rational thought.”

Jinx snorts, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, sure, I’m sure that’s exactly what Shakespeare was going for. Desire, right? More like he was just a horny old man trying to sell sex on the page. No wonder those two idiots killed themselves over each other.”

I nod, careful to keep my composure. “Yes. Desire, more than love. They acted on passion rather than considering the consequences. Shakespeare’s portrayal of love is often hyperbolic, exaggerated to the point where it’s almost abs-"

I get cut off by another snicker from her followed by, "You damn nerd."

I pause mid-sentence, blinking at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she says, tilting her head, her grin widening. “You’re such a nerd, Y/N. Who even says ‘hyperbolic’ in casual conversation? It’s like you’re auditioning for a Shakespeare reboot.”

I huff, sitting up straighter. “It’s called having a vocabulary,” I reply, my tone clipped but teasing. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

She gasps dramatically, clutching her chest like I’ve struck her through with a dagger. “Wow. Coming at me with the intellectual smackdown, huh? Careful, or I’ll start quoting Shakespeare back at you.”

“Please don’t,” I say quickly, holding up a hand like I’m warding off some impending disaster.

Jinx grins, leaning forward now, her elbows on the table. “Oh, but wouldn’t you love that? Imagine me up on a balcony, all, But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” She pauses, fluttering her eyelashes for effect. “You’d swoon. Admit it.”

“I’d laugh,” I correct, refusing to give her the satisfaction. “And then I’d shut the window.”

She cackles, the sound sharp and chaotic, and it’s impossible not to smile. “Cold, Y/N. Ice cold. No wonder you don’t have a Romeo climbing fire escapes for you.”

I roll my eyes, flipping a page in the book to feign disinterest. “Not everyone needs a grand romantic gesture, Jinx. Some of us prefer substance over theatrics."

Jinx leans back in her chair, propping her boots up on the edge of the table like she owns the place. Her smirk is sharp, eyes glittering with mischief.

“C'mon, Y/N,” she drawls. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t want someone to show up, grand gesture and all, declaring undying devotion? Maybe a little dramatic fainting thrown in for good measure?”

I snort. “No. Definitely not. I’d find it mortifying.”

She tilts her head, feigning innocence. “What about some spicy poetry? Like, Oh, Y/N, your... uh, unparalleled intelligence leaves me trembling.” Her voice dips into a breathy almost smutty tone, and I roll my eyes.

“You’re insufferable,” I mutter, flipping through my notes.

“And you’re boring,” she fires back without missing a beat. “Where’s the fun, huh? You don’t think Juliet was secretly hoping Romeo would skip the iambic pentameter and just pin her to a wall?”

I look up, feeling my cheeks heat. “Jinx.”

“What?” she says, her grin downright wicked now. “I’m just saying. The whole woe is me, tragic romance thing might’ve been for show. Behind closed doors, she was probably like, Enough about the stars, Romeo, let’s talk about your sword.”

And I falter, my laughter bubbling up uncontrollably before bursting out so loud that it shatters the quiet of the library. The sound is obnoxious, and I can’t stop it, even though I know I should. Mrs. Clark, the poor librarian, scurries over to us, her face draining of color when she realizes it’s me—me—who caused the disturbance. Her eyes widen in horror, and I shrink back in my seat, wishing the floor would swallow me whole.

“Y/N,” Mrs. Clark says sharply, her voice quivering with disapproval, “This is a library. I expect more from you.”

I swallow, my throat tight, and I can barely meet her gaze. The silence that follows is suffocating, broken only by the scratch of Mrs. Clark’s pen as she writes us both a detention slip. “After school,” she mutters, her voice tight. She hands us the slips, one by one, and I want to crawl under the table, but I can't. Not with everyone staring.

I take the slip, my hands trembling, my face burning with the weight of the embarrassment. Jinx’s laughter, the one that started all this, has quieted, but there's still a mischievous glint in her eyes. At first, it seems like she's enjoying my discomfort, and I can't help but wish she’d be quiet for just a moment, let me process this in peace.

But then, her smirk fades. She glances at me, her expression softening as she catches the way my shoulders slump, the way I'm trembling. I try to blink back the tears threatening to spill, but they’re already in my eyes. It’s stupid, it’s just a detention, but the humiliation is unbearable.

Jinx doesn’t say anything at first, but I can feel the weight of her gaze on me as I struggle to hold back the tears. She slides out of her chair, slowly stepping closer, crouching down beside me with a quiet seriousness I’ve rarely seen from her. Her voice, when it comes, is low, almost soothing.

“Hey,” she says, her words gentle, like she’s trying to reach through the storm inside me. “It’s not that bad, okay? Detention's just... it's nothing. It’s temporary.”

I don’t respond, but I can feel the tears starting to burn in my eyes, and I just can't stop them. I keep my gaze fixed on the floor, trying to hide how I’m trembling.

Jinx doesn’t back away, though. Instead, she reaches out, her hand soft as it rests on my shoulder, the touch surprisingly warm and comforting. “Come on toots, let’s go,” she says, her voice so different from the usual teasing tone, like she’s saying it for me, not for her. “I’ll take you somewhere... just let’s get out of here, okay?”

I nod, my throat tight, and let her guide me out of the library. The hallways feel colder now, like everything around me is a reminder of how utterly humiliated I feel. But Jinx stays close, walking beside me, her presence steady and unwavering, like she’s determined not to let me fall apart alone.

She leads me into the girls’ bathroom, the door shutting quietly behind us. It’s quiet, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead, and for a moment, everything feels still. Jinx leans against the counter, watching me with a softness in her eyes that I’ve never seen before. She doesn’t say anything at first, just lets me breathe, lets the silence settle between us.

I break.

The tears come without warning, and I retreat to the corner, curling into myself, trying to make myself smaller. I press my hands to my face, desperate to hide the rawness of what I’m feeling. The sobs are quiet at first, but they soon escape in harsh, ragged breaths. The shame, the embarrassment—it’s overwhelming, suffocating. I feel completely exposed, fragile, and utterly out of control.

I don’t want her to see me like this. I don’t want anyone to. But she doesn’t leave.

There’s a quiet moment, just the sound of my breathing, of me trying to stifle the sobs. And then Jinx moves toward me, her steps slow, careful. She crouches down next to me, not trying to force anything, not speaking. She just watches me for a moment, her eyes filled with something tender, and then her hand reaches out. Her fingers brush through my hair, slow and soothing, the soft strokes almost enough to make me forget everything else.

"Shhh," she murmurs, her voice quiet, barely above a whisper. "It’s okay."

I can’t stop the tears. I don’t even try. But the sound of her voice, the feel of her fingers weaving through my hair, so gentle, so careful—it’s grounding. She doesn’t rush me, doesn’t tell me to stop crying. She just stays there, her touch like a balm for the rawness inside me.

After a long moment, she shifts again, her hand moving to wipe away the tears that have soaked my cheeks. Her fingers are gentle, each movement deliberate, as if she’s treating me like something fragile but important. Her touch is steady, patient, and it’s like she’s saying, without words, that I don’t have to hide. That I’m allowed to feel, to break.

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Jinx

"C'mon, toots—it’s only an hour, alright? No big deal." I glance at Y/N, tucked behind me like a little puppy, her hand in mine.

It’s like she’s trying to disappear into the floor, and I don’t... I don’t know what to do with that.

I peek into the detention room, Mr. Wheeler’s already there, half asleep

Of course he is.

His glasses are dangling off his nose, like he forgot they even exist.

He’s ancient—like, fossil-level ancient—but whatever.

Doesn’t matter.

I yank the door open.

And there he is. Boy savior himself, sitting in the corner, all quiet and broody.

I waggle my free hand at him. Big, dumb wave. Like, hi, notice me!

Ekko’s head pops up.

His face twists into full-on confusion. Like, what the actual hell?

His eyes dart to Y/N behind me, all tucked in and quiet, and I can practically hear the gears in his head grinding.

I can see it.

The way his gaze softens, just a little, but then hardens again.

Like he’s trying to figure out how to act, what to say, how to breathe, maybe.

And I get it. I do.

Because once, a long time ago, it was the three of us.

Ekko. Y/N. Me.

Best friends.

And now?

Now we’re... this. Whatever this is. Unspoken crap hanging in the air like a bad smell.

After what happened—Vander’s death, Vi’s wrongful juvie sentence, and Silco taking me in...

Shit hit the fan.

Everything snapped.

The three of us? We used to be inseparable.

Me, Boy Savior, and Y/N. We were the kind of trio that people envied—always laughing, always plotting, always looking out for each other.

But after everything fell apart?

That trio was gone. Just... gone.

Ekko and I? We managed to reconcile. Somehow. It wasn’t easy, but we put the pieces back together.

Mostly.

But Y/N and him?

Never.

Whatever they had? Whatever we all had? It just crumbled. And they never found their way back to each other.

The air feels heavy. Like it’s pressing down on us.

Y/N’s hand squeezes mine. Tight. Too tight. Like she thinks if she lets go, she’ll just... vanish.

I glance back at her. Pale. Shaking. Her eyes darting everywhere except him.

Ekko.

The Boy Savior.

He’s staring at her like she’s a ghost. Or maybe a grenade. His jaw’s tight, hands fidgeting like he doesn’t know where to put them.

Say something.

Do something.

But he just sits there. Quiet. Staring.

It’s unbearable.

“Gonna sprain something, Boy Savior,” I snap, too loud, too sharp. “All that thinking’s dangerous, y’know.”

His head snaps up. Eyes narrow. “Jinx.”

That tone. Even. Calm. Like he’s the adult in the room.

Which he's not cause fucking Mr Wheeler's old ass is at the desk asleep now.

“What?” I throw my free hand up, grinning like a lunatic. “Just saying. You look like you’re trying to solve the meaning of life or some shit.”

Still nothing.

He glances at Y/N again.

And she flinches.

I can’t. I can’t with this.

“Seriously? We’re doing this? Now?” My voice comes out sharper than I mean. “It’s detention. Not a goddamn soap opera.”

“Jinx, stop.”

Her voice.

Soft. Cracked. Barely there.

I freeze. Look at her. She’s hiding behind me, eyes on the floor, her face red like she’s about to cry again.

My chest tightens.

Ekko’s watching us, his expression... weird. Guilty? Concerned? I can’t tell.

“Whatever,” I mutter, pulling Y/N further into the room. “Let’s just sit.”

I drag her to the far corner, away from him. Away from everything.

We sit. She tries to pull her hand away, but I don’t let go. Nope. Not happening.

“Uh-uh, toots,” I whisper. “You’re stuck with me.”

She doesn’t argue. Just wipes her face with her sleeve, all quiet and miserable.

Across the room, I can feel him watching.

Always watching.

And I hate it.

I hate all of this.

I hear a grunt and then...

"The hell is she in here for?"

Ekko’s voice slices through the tension like a blade.

Y/N stiffens beside me, her hand still in mine, like she’s trying to hide behind me.

“Y/N’s here because—” I start, but I don’t know how to finish that.

The fuck should I say?

“Because I laughed too loud,” Y/N mumbles, barely loud enough to hear.

Ekko blinks.

“You?” he says, voice full of disbelief.

“Apparently.” Y/N pulls her hand away from mine tucking them into her sleeves like she’s trying to hide.

I snort, rolling my eyes. “It’s ‘cause Mrs. Clark is a total cunt.”

Ekko’s eyes narrow.

His face hardens a little—like he’s getting pissed off, not at us, but at the absurdity of it. “She really gave you detention for that?” His voice drops, angry now. “For laughing? That’s... that’s fucking ridiculous.”

I nod, crossing my arms. “Told ya. Stupid.”

Y/N looks down, trying to disappear into the floor like she can avoid everything.

So, of course, I’m not having that.

I grab her hand. “C’mon, Y/N. Detention? Are you seriously gonna sit here like some sad sack when we could be out there making actual trouble?”

She gives me the side-eye, clearly hesitant. “I’m not sure—”

“Stop thinking, and just do,” I snap, tugging her toward the window. "I’m done with this place, and you should be too."

She hesitates again, her face a mix of nervousness and confusion. I roll my eyes. “Detention’s for losers, Y/N. And you’re not a loser. You’re a rebel just waiting to burst out.”

Ekko’s already halfway through the window, a grin plastered on his face like he’s got nothing better to do than burn this place to the ground. “C’mon, this is way better than sitting in that crap hole. You don’t want to miss it.”

I lean out the window, breathing in the night air like it’s the first breath of freedom I’ve had in ages. “You’re seriously gonna let this lame-ass detention keep you locked up? Or are you gonna live a little?”

She’s still stiff, unsure, but there’s a flicker in her eyes.

She’s fighting it.

I see it. She’s craving a reason to break the rules, but she’s scared.

I pull her closer, voice low but firm. “Look, it’s just one little jump, Y/N. What’s the worst that can happen? Get caught and get another detention? Big deal. You can always blame me. I’ve got it covered.”

Finally, after what feels like forever, she steps up.

Slowly at first, but then quicker.

She's in.

I laugh, watching her climb out. “That’s my girl,” I mutter, watching her face. There’s a spark in her now, and I can feel it.

She’s gonna love this.

We all slide out the window, landing in the cool night air.

Ekko shoots me a look, like we're all in on some big joke. “Now this is how you do it,” he says, grinning ear-to-ear.

Y/N looks at me, her face still a little stunned, but now she’s definitely feeling it. “I can’t believe we just did that,” she says, breathless.

“You bet your ass we did,” I say, with a grin that could cut glass.

“Best decision of your life. Welcome to the rebellion, toots.”

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: the friendship has begun to progress slightly, more where that came from ;)

please like and reblog!

[taintedcigs]

— morning routine (modern!s.h. x reader)

pairing: modern!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: basically, that scene in greys anatomy where meredith snores and keeps waking up derek but instead of them it's reader who just moved in with steve. (and robin duh) idk how to explain it but i tried to give it a spin idk if i succeeded. this is just FLUFFY AND cheesy. and tbh its only modern!steve cuz i added one (1) stupid twilight joke. SUE ME OK!!!!

warnings: just pure fluff. domestic!steve. tooth-rottingly sweet. cheesy af. some kissing. does snoring count idk. steve is an adorable idiot. also makes a dirty joke bc he is immature (and so am i.) kissing. idk. allude to smut but nothing described at all. not proof-read ignore all mistakes cuz i wrote this mess in like 20 mins and cant read it back cuz i cant do it without criticizng everything so im just gonna post okkkkiii bye hope u guys enjoy it (wc: 1.3k+)

⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ

It hadn't been that long since you’d settled into Steve and Robin’s place. You’d initially been nervous about it, about whether everything would work out or not.

But soon enough, things were already starting to fall into place—especially in the mornings.

A perfect routine.

The illuminating rays of sunshine would seep through the cracks in the blinds, glowing the cozy room you and Steve now called yours. And the overwhelming aroma of the coffee Robin always brewed too early, signaling to you that it was time to wake up.

You stirred slightly, mind slowly drifting out of the haze of sleep until you noticed something—rather someone in your periphery.

Eyes fluttering open, you squinted against the soft light, and you were instantly met with Steve’s warm gaze at you, his head propped on one hand as he lay beside you.

“Steve! What the hell?” you exclaimed, groggily shoving his shoulder with a laugh. “Are you watching me sleep, you creep?”

Steve’s lips curled into a lazy, boyish grin, one that you couldn’t resist smiling back at. “Mmhmm,” he murmured, not even bothering to deny it.

“What are you? Edward Cullen?” you teased.

That earns a good chuckle out of him, eyes crinkling at the corners before he mumbles out a “Mornin', honey.”

He leans down to press a soft kiss to your velvety lips before pulling back to gawk at you again, cheeks dimpling adorably.

A giggle bubbles up from your chest as you swat at him, though your heart squeezes.

The most dreamy.

“How did you wake up before the alarm?” you ask, voice still thick with sleep.

Steve shrugs, grin never faltering. “I’m a light sleeper.”

“Something woke you up?”

When he doesn't answer, “What?” you press, brows furrowing.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “’S no big deal,” he assures, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It’s just that...” He pauses, biting his lip to hold back a grin.

“You just... snore.... a little bit.” He squints, pinching his thumb and forefinger together.

You shot upright in bed. “What? I do not!” you protest.

“Yes, you do,” Steve says, grin widening as he clearly enjoys your reaction.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh!” he counters back.

“Honestly, it’s adorable that such a tiny person can make such a big sound.”

You gasp, “Jerk!” Swatting at him when he leans in for a kiss. He laughs, dodging your swipe, smile as infuriating as it was endearing.

“You know what’s not adorable?” you shot back. “Those little twitches you do every night!”

Steve blinks, protesting quickly. “I don't do that!”

“Yes you do!” you exclaimed, poking a finger into his chest playfully. “You’re like a human earthquake. It’s scary, Harrington!”

He lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest. And before you can say another word, Steve pounces, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his hold. Fingers tickling your sides mercilessly, sending you into fits of laughter as you squirm to escape.

“Stop it! Steve!” you manage to get out between giggles, your attempts to push him away weak from how hard you were laughing.

⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ

Determined to make it up to him, you wore one of those nasal strips every night, for the following week. Convinced it was solving the problem.

Until you wake up, suddenly, and way before your alarm.

And even way before Robin's coffee. To find Steve's spot empty next to you.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you slip out of bed, padding down the hall, curiosity tugging at you.

And of course, there he is, sprawled across the couch. Legs awkwardly dangling over the edge, one arm thrown over his eyes.

Idiot. You could feel a gentle warmth spreading all over your body.

This absolutely selfless, adorable idiot.

“You have got to be kidding me,” your exclaiming voice startles him awake, making him groan groggily.

“You slept on the couch?” You ask, guilt bubbling in your chest. 

Steve hums sleepily, clearly not awake enough to form a coherent response.

“All night?” That poor boy. 

He murmurs something incomprehensible, eyes squeezing shut like he could will himself back to sleep.

“Are those stupid strips not working?” You asked frustratedly, and Steve was quick to shook his head, the motion muffled by his pillow. 

You let out a sigh, narrowing your gaze at him, “If my snoring was always this bad, what the hell were you doing all those other nights?”

Before Steve can answer, Robin emerges from her room, hair a tangled mess and expression groggy. “He usually sleeps on the couch,” she hums, slowly slipping past you to the bathroom. “Sets an alarm and sneaks back into bed before you wake up.”

You blink, processing her words as your head slowly turns toward Steve. He’s sitting up now, looking thoroughly sheepish.

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” he says softly, tone so endearing that it tugs violently at your heartstrings.

And that’s the thing about Steve, isn’t it? 

Always putting you first. Always thinking of you. 

You stare at him for a moment, dramatic theatrics melt into something warmer. A smile tugs at your lips, growing wider until you can’t contain it anymore. Walking over to the couch, you kneel beside him as he looks up at you innocently.

Without a word, you throw your arms around him as you begin to smother his face with kisses, one after another, until he was laughing too.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter between kisses, voice filled with affection. “Sweet, but so goddamn ridiculous.”

Steve grins, hands sliding down to hold your waist comfortably. “You know I’d do anythin' for my girl,” he replies, tone thick with sleep and laced with that infamous Harrington charm that makes your heart flutter.

“But, I swear, Harrington,” you warn, pulling back just enough to meet his warm gaze, “if you ever sleep on this couch again, I’m tying you to the bed.”

His brows shot up, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh! I’ve always wanted to try that one!” he teases.

You scoff playfully before adding, “And I’m getting you earplugs!”

Before you can say anything else, Steve suddenly tugs you closer, pulling you onto the couch with him. “C’mere,” he murmurs, voice low and tender. Plush lips pressing kisses all over your face—forehead, cheeks, lips, the tip of your nose—as he rambles sweet nothings in between, each one making your heart swell a little more.

“I love you,” he whispers, words melting into your skin like a promise. 

You can’t help but giggle softly, threading your fingers through his messy hair, “Love you more, you idiot.” 

Steve grins, fingers brushing off a stray strand of hair away from your face. “So…” He trails off, tone turning sly, brows arching in anticipation, “...about that tying up thing?”

You smirk, rolling off of him as you rise to your feet. He doesn’t let his gaze leave yours, chest rising with a sharp breath as he watches your figure. 

Without a word, you saunter out of the living room, hips swaying just enough to leave him frozen in place, staring after you like a statue.

At the doorway, you glance over your shoulder to meet his dumbfounded expression. “Well,” you hum with a sly grin, “are you coming or not?”

His jaw practically drops. “C’mon, pretty boy,” you tease, tone dropping into a sultry hum that makes his eyes darken. “You’ve been really, really bad, and the punishment isn’t gonna be pretty.”

His breath catches, utterly frozen. Then, as if the exhaustion he’d been feeling moments ago has been completely erased, he springs from the couch with a groan. “God, you’re fucking perfect, you know that, right?” he mutters, all with awe and hunger as he reaches you.

Before you can react, he sweeps you up into his arms with an eagerness that makes you squeal. “Steve!” you gasp, laughing as he rushes you toward the bedroom like a man on mission.

Finally, the perfect morning routine. 

[winchesterwild78]

Unspoken Words pt 7

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, other characters

Warnings: fluff, a little angst, David’s court date, more fluff

A/N: Another collab story with @cheekygirl2309. This one is about a single mother with a nonverbal autistic daughter who loves Supernatural. The reader is going to a Supernatural Convention with her daughter and things unfold from there. The daughter character is near and dear to my heart. I have someone very close to me who is nonverbal, but he’s such an amazing kid. 

*One more chapter after this. Features a time jump or two. *

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Jensen is single in this story. 

All work is my own and @cheekygirl2309, don’t take it or use it as your own. Reblogs and likes are appreciated. 

Minors DNI 18+

*Time Jump 3 months*

After coming back from California  I decided to move Lily and I in with Jensen. He was excited I agreed to it. Living with him in California felt perfect, like we were exactly where we were meant to be. 

Lily began talking more, and Jensen insisted on paying for a private speech therapist. I told him I was fine with the one she had been going to, but he wanted the best for her. 

I quickly realized it was pointless to argue with him about her wellbeing. He stepped into the role of dad without missing a beat. We were a united front when it came to Lily, but he also used his status and money to help fill in gaps. 

*Flash Back to the month after we left*

We flew back for the court date for David’s attempted kidnapping. Sarah watched Lily so Jensen and I could go. He was found guilty and sentenced to jail time. There was also a lifetime protective order put in place that prevented him from any contact with Lily, myself or Jensen. 

When we came home for the court date I was sick for days. Chalking it up to nerves, I did my best to ignore it. After a few days and heading back to California Jensen started to get more concerned.

“Baby, you’ve been sick since before we went to court. Maybe you should go to the doctor.” He was right, I knew he was. I was just being stubborn. 

“I can’t just drop what I’m doing and go to the doctor for a little bug. It’ll pass. It always does.”

Jensen just looked at me, “Baby, please. I’m worried about you. I’ll keep Lily and you go see Dr. Pickard. Please.” I sighed, “Okay. I’ll make an appointment.” 

The next day I was sitting in the doctor’s office. I checked in and sat in the lobby. A young woman was sitting to the left of me and kept looking at me. I just wanted to get in and out without issues or being recognized. 

The young woman leaned forward. I knew what was coming. “Excuse me, ma’am?” I turned and smiled, “Yes?” “I’m sorry to bother you, but are you dating Jensen Ackles?” I nodded, “Yes I am.” She grinned, “I thought that was you. It’s very nice to meet you. My name is Mary. Are you two getting married?” “It’s nice to meet you too, Mary, and I don’t know. He hasn’t asked, so I’m going to say no. Not right now.” “Oh, okay. Well maybe he will soon.” I smiled as my name was called, “Maybe. We haven’t been dating long, so we have time. You have a great day, Mary.” 

I walked to the back with the nurse and explained why I was there. She told me the doctor would be in soon and would let me know if any tests would be needed. I nodded and she left. 

Sitting in the room I felt really dizzy and sick. Dr Pickard came in and noticed I was sweating and was pale. “Ms Y/L/N, are you okay?” “No, I feel really dizzy and sick to my stomach.” 

She checked me over and asked some questions. “Okay, let me run some tests. The nurse will be in soon and take some blood, do some swabs for the flu and other illnesses, and we need to check for pregnancy.” 

I chuckled, “Wow, just checking everything, huh?” Dr Pickard looked at me, “Just trying to be thorough.” She left the room and the nurse came back in a few minutes later. They took my blood, she swabbed my nose and throat and had me pee in a cup. 

“I’m gonna run all this to the lab, we should have the results for everything except the blood work before you leave today. The doctor will be back shortly.” I nodded and thanked her. I pulled out my phone and sent Jensen a text. 

Me: I’ve been poked, prodded and swabbed. Waiting on some of the results. I’m being checked for flu or other things. I’ll keep you updated. How are you and Lily?

Jensen: Okay, hopefully they figure it out soon. I’m really worried about you, and we are fine. *1 image sent*

Jensen sent a picture of him with a princess tiara on and Lily in her princess dress. I laughed.

Me: aww look at the pretty princesses. I love you two

Jensen: We love you too, mommy. Come home soon.

Me: I will. TTYS

After about twenty minutes Dr Pickard came back in. “Well, Ms Y/L/N, you don’t have the flu or strep, your iron is a bit low and you're a little dehydrated, and you’re pregnant.” 

“I’m sorry, what? I’m pregnant? How did that happen?” She chuckled, “Um, I’m assuming you and your partner had sex. Maybe unprotected?” I sat thinking, no, Jensen and I were always so… “Oh, yeah. That one time over a month ago.” She chuckled, “That’s all it takes. So I’m prescribing some prenatal vitamins and I want you to schedule an appointment to get the baby checked.” 

“Okay. Thank you for everything.” My heart beat fast in my chest. I was pregnant. Jensen was the father. Would he be okay with this? We never really talked about children. How would Lily handle this?

My head was spinning by the time I got home. Jensen greeted me at the door with a hug and a smile. He saw the bag from the pharmacy and smiled. “So I see you have some medicine. I’m assuming the doctor found something?” 

I took a deep breath, “Yeah she did. Jensen, we need to talk.” He sat down beside me and took my hands in his, “Okay baby. Is everything okay?” 

With a shaky breath I looked at him, “Jensen, I’m okay. She didn’t find anything devastating, but what she did find is going to change our lives.” 

Jensen looked at me, eyes so full of love, “Okay, now you’re scaring me. Y/N, please just tell me.” 

Tears pricked my eyes, I was so scared. “Jensen, I’m pregnant.” He softly gasped. Silence filled the room and I didn’t know what to say or do. 

The longer the silence stretched on, the more anxious I got. I swallowed hard, and the tears started to fall.

“Jensen, please say something.” His voice barely above a whisper, “You’re pregnant?” I nodded. “Jensen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get pregnant. I know this isn’t something we talked about and I understand if you’re not ready. Lily and I can stay at our place and I won’t keep the baby from you if that’s what you want. I think Lily and I should go home. I’m so sorry Jensen.” 

I stood up quickly and walked towards the bedroom. The tears fell fast as I felt the bile rise in my throat. I walked into our bedroom and grabbed my suitcase. Jensen was hot on my heels. He grabbed my hand and spun me around. His lips crashed on mine in a heated kiss. 

I was shocked. When he pulled back he was smiling. “You’re pregnant. We’re having a baby!.” “Jensen, you’re not mad?” “What?! Why would I be mad? The love of my life is pregnant with our baby. Lily’s going to have a baby brother or sister. Oh sweetheart, please don’t leave. I want to be with you every step of the way.” 

I cried harder. I wasn’t expecting his reaction. He pulled me in his arms, “Shh baby. Don’t cry, please. I love you and I can’t wait to have this baby with you. I know you’ve been hurt in the past, but I promise I’m not going anywhere. You, Lily and this baby have me forever.” He wiped my tears away and placed a soft kiss on my lips. 

His hand rested on my stomach and he smiled. “I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I am.” I took a shaky breath in and out, letting go of all the anxiety I was feeling. 

*Current Time*

I was heading to my doctor's appointment to check on the baby and Jensen was going with me. We had been back home in Texas for about a month and Lily and I were adjusting to living with Jensen. 

I was worried she would have a hard time adjusting to the new house, but she loved it. Jensen made sure he put a gate around the pool, and a safety cover on the pool just in case. He also had her a swing set built in the backyard. They both spent a lot of time outside in the backyard playing. I couldn’t wait for the baby to be old enough to play with Lily and Jensen. 

I stood at the full-length mirror in our bedroom and placed a hand on my belly. I was just starting to show more and I knew we couldn’t hide the pregnancy much longer. My biggest worry was telling Lily. I wasn’t sure how she’d react. 

Sarah and Steve knew I was pregnant. They were excited for us. The two of them were coming over to watch Lily while Jensen and I went to the doctor. 

I was too busy looking at my growing bump to notice Jensen standing at the door. He leaned against the doorframe and watched me with a smile on his face. 

He walked up behind me and snaked his arms around my waist, placing his hands on my belly. He kissed my cheek, “How’s my babies today?” I smiled and leaned into him, “We’re okay. I’m hungry, but what else is new.” He laughed, “We’ll get you a snack before we head out. What do you want?” 

“Hmm, pickles, peanut butter and apples sound delicious.” He chuckled, “Okay. I’ll get it and you finish getting ready.” I kissed his lips, “Thanks baby.” He nodded and smiled.

Lily knew something was different, but we hadn’t told her yet I was pregnant. We wanted to make sure everything was okay with the baby before we told her. The appointment today was going to include an ultrasound and measurement of the baby. I was about 3 months pregnant and so far the pregnancy was going well. 

Jensen was by my side through it all. He was in between filming schedules at the moment, so he was home. I knew he was leaving in about 3 weeks to head to Toronto for filming. We weren’t sure if Lily and I were going or staying home, honestly it depends on what the doctor told us. 

Sarah and Steve arrived to watch Lily and Jensen and I were about to leave to go to the appointment. I was nervous but excited. This would be the first ultrasound and I was happy Jensen was going to be there for it. 

Sarah gave me a hug and told me she couldn’t wait to see the baby when we got back. Lily looked at me and Sarah and whispered, “baby?”

I looked at Sarah and she mouthed, “sorry”. I just nodded. 

I took a deep breath and sat Lily down. Jensen sat beside her. “Lily, sweetheart. Mommy and Jensen have something we want to tell you. You know how mommy has been sick and going to the doctor a lot? Well, mommy has a baby in her tummy. You’re going to be a big sister.” 

Lily sat beside Jensen and I very still. She looked up at me, then down to my stomach, then up at Jensen. Tears filled her little eyes and she started to cry. I pulled her on my lap but she wiggled free and went to her room. 

I started to follow her, but Sarah told me she’d go so we weren’t late. I wanted to go and see her, but I had to get to the appointment too. 

“Y/N, honey. I’ll take care of her. You go check on the little bean.” I nodded and Jensen and I left. 

The ride to the doctor’s office was quiet. I was worried about Lily and felt a pang of guilt for leaving like I did. Jensen sensed my uneasiness and took my hand in his. 

“Hey, she’s going to be okay. Take a deep breath.” “I know Jensen, she was just so upset and I left. What kind of mother does that?”

“Y/N, don’t do that. You’re an amazing mother. Lily is safe with Sarah, and we had to get to this appointment. I know you’re upset, but she’s going to be okay, I promise.”

I nodded and wiped the tears that started to fall away. We arrived at the doctor’s office and got checked in. 

The nurse checked my vitals and everything she needed to do. She asked how I’d been and told me the doctor would be in soon. Jensen stood beside the exam table and held my hand. 

The doctor came in, did their exam and got me ready for the ultrasound.

I was so excited and nervous to see the baby. She put the gel on my belly and commented that she was surprised I was showing as much as I was. I thought it was an odd statement to make, but brushed it off as my eyes were glued to the monitor. 

The doctor had a puzzled look on their face and kept looking at the monitor with an unreadable look on their face. I started to get nervous. “Hmm, that’s interesting.” 

I looked at her and then at Jensen. He saw my distress, “What’s interesting?” He asked her. “One second, let me just check one more thing. Hmm, yep. Okay.” 

Jensen looked at the screen, at her and then at me, “Is everything okay with the baby?” I started to panic a little because I wasn’t hearing a heartbeat. “Why don’t I hear a heartbeat?! Jensen, what’s wrong with the baby?!”

The doctor turned to us and offered a soft smile. I felt the bile rising in my throat. She flipped a switch on the machine and I heard the heartbeat. I let out the breath I was holding. 

“Everything looks great. The heartbeats are strong and it looks like growth is on target. You both can relax. It looks like both of them are perfectly healthy.” 

Jensen leaned down and kissed me and I turned back to the doctor to thank her, then it hit both of us. “Wait, what?! Heartbeats? Both?” She chuckled, “Congratulations, you’re having twins, and from the looks of it they are fraternal.” 

Jensen chuckled, “Wow, we’re adding two babies to the family.” He kissed me again. I was filled with joy and then a wave of anxiety hit me. I was worried how Lily would handle the news of twins. 

The doctor gave us pictures and we made our next appointment. I couldn’t take my eyes off the pictures. I clearly saw two babies in the pictures. 

On the way home my hand rested on my stomach as my mind drifted to what life would be like with three children. 

“Whatcha thinking about darlin’?” Jensen asked, breaking the silence in the car. “Just the babies and Lily. I don’t know how she’s going to feel about two babies. I’m just worried about her.” 

He took my hand, “Hey, I get it. It might be hard for her at first, but she’s going to be a great big sister. When Mackenzie was born I wasn’t thrilled at first, but after a bit I loved her and protected her. Lily is going to be the same way.” “I hope so.”

When we got home We shared the news with Sarah and Steve and they both were excited. I asked Sarah where Lily was and she said in her room. “I talked to her, but I don’t know if it did any good. I’m sorry Y/N.” 

I touched her arm, “No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. We will talk to her. Thank you both for watching her.” 

Sarah nodded, hugged me goodbye and she and Steve left. I walked to Lily’s bedroom door and found her sitting on her bed holding her squirrel stuffy. 

I walked in and sat on the bed, “Lily, honey, we’re home. Do you want to see a picture of the baby?” She turned her back to me. It broke my heart. I touched her arm, “Baby, look at mommy, please.” 

She turned away and grunted at me. Jensen walked in and saw it. He walked up to me, touched my shoulder and motioned for me to come on. I looked at Lily and then back at him. I got up and left her room.

I started crying, “She’s so mad at me, Jensen. What am I going to do?” He pulled me in his arms and held me, “Hey, it’s okay. You get a snack and rest, I’ll talk to her.” I nodded and walked downstairs.

Jensen walked in her room and sat on the bed, “Hey baby girl. Will you look at me?” She turned further away. He put his hand on her shoulder, “Hey, Lily girl. Please look at me.” 

She slowly rolled over and looked at him. Her big beautiful eyes red from crying. “No love Lily.” Jensen’s heart broke. He immediately pulled her in his lap and held her tight, “Oh sweet girl, no. Just because mommy is having a baby doesn’t mean we don’t love you anymore. We will always love our Lily girl. You’re our first baby, our first princess. We love you and love the new baby too. Just like you can love mommy and love me.” 

She looked up at him and he wiped her tears away. “Love Lily?” “Of course we do. Forever and always. Do you want to see a picture of the baby?” She cautiously nodded. Jensen pulled out the ultrasound picture he had and showed Lily. “So, Lily, mommy has two babies in her belly. We don’t know if they are boys or girls, but there are two of them.” She smiled and held the picture looking it over. “Babies?” Jensen chuckled, “Yes, babies.” 

She climbed out of his lap and ran to her closet. When she came back over she had a duck toy and handed it to Jensen, “For baby.” Jensen smiled and kissed the top of her head, “Come on sweet girl, let’s give it to mommy.” 

Jensen carried Lily downstairs and to me. She hugged me and handed me the duck. I was a little confused. “She said it’s for the babies.” I smiled and nodded. 

Lily sat beside me and looked at my belly. “Babies?” I placed my hand on my stomach, “Yes, mommy has two babies in her belly.” Lily looked at Jensen and then back at me. She slid closer to me, placed her hand softly on my stomach and then leaned down and kissed my belly. 

My breath hitched and I looked at Jensen. He smiled and said, “See I told you, best big sister ever.” 

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[sad-girl-hours23]

This started as a writing exercise for "first lines" and I wrote this first line without any notion of a story: Buck stares at the wedding invitation he received in the mail for a Mr. Eric Williams and a Mr. Thomas Kinard, and says, “what the fuck.”

But then I thought to myself, why would Tommy send him an invite to his wedding and well, this idea was born. Pay no attention to the plot holes and general lack of logistics lol also I did not re-read this so know that going in.

TLDR: Post break-up, Tommy gets amnesia, loses the last 8 years of memories. Doesn’t tell anyone, fakes it with his boss & Lucy. Quits his job & moves to Pennsylvania. Changes his number. Gets a boring desk job and falls in love with the first man he meets. They eventually get engaged & Tommy, wanting to have familiar faces on his side of the aisle, invites Hen, Howie, Sal, Bobby, and Lucy. He doesn’t remember them, but he also sends invites to Eddie and Evan (whose information is in his address book)

Cut to Buck receiving a wedding invitation from Tommy 2 years after he broke up with Buck and never spoke to him again.

Buck/Tommy amnesia fic where Tommy goes out of town and he gets into an accident shortly after the breakup and forgets the last 8 years.

 His emergency contact is his captain who, to Tommy’s memory, he’s only met a handful of times since he remembers his transfer to Harbor being approved, but he doesn’t remember ever working there. He doesn’t remember why he was out of town, but something is telling him he needed to get away. The thought of trying to fit back into a life he doesn’t remember gives him anxiety, as does the thought of asking strangers to fill in the blanks. He doesn’t tell his chief or anybody about the amnesia. Maybe this can be the new start he craved.

When he gets back to LA, he quits his job and prepares to move. He finds a house to rent in Hershey, Pennsylvania of all places. He doesn’t know why, doesn’t ever remember wanting to go there, but it sticks in his brain. Maybe it’s his sweet tooth.

He wonders if there is anybody he should contact before he goes. His phone was lost in the accident, so he had no call history or text messages to go off of. All he had was an address book, with some names he recognized, Howie and Hen, and others he didn’t, an Eddie Diaz and an Evan Buckley. There’s an ache in his chest he can’t explain. Maybe it’s that the only phone calls he’s received in the last two weeks since his accident have been spam or from Lucy. He wishes he remembered her. She sounded skeptical when he skirted things he couldn’t remember, surprised but ultimately happy for him when he told her about the move. Told him not to be a stranger, but he knew he would be.

He gets to Pennsylvania and takes his time settling in. He gets a boring desk job. After a month, with no contact from anybody, he changes his number to one with a Pennsylvania area code. He still thinks about reaching out to Hen and Howie, but he chickens out every time. He does reach out to Sal and finds relief in finally being truthful about his amnesia. It feels like they pick up right where they left off and Tommy’s grateful for the friendship, even if Sal can’t tell him anything about his life (apparently they hadn’t kept in touch often).

Tommy can’t explain why he saves Evan Buckley’s information in his phone or the fluttering feeling in his chest he gets just looking at the name. It’s the same feeling he gets when he finds himself driving down a residential road and catches sight of a white house with green shutters. He can’t explain the way it feels like his mind is trying to retrieve memories that never come. He composes texts that he never sends, isn’t sure what he would even say. 

 He meets a man named Eric, who sweeps him off his feet. He’s just sweet enough that Tommy chooses to ignore the ways Eric can make him feel small and ashamed at being new to dating men. He is new to it as far as his memory is concerned, so he pushes the feeling down. 

He toys with the idea of getting recertified to become a firefighter again, but Eric won’t hear of it and Tommy doesn’t want to lose him, wants the life and marriage that Eric’s talked about. Even if deep down, it feels like there is somebody else out there for him. 

Tommy & Eric get engaged and Tommy leaves all the planning to his fiancee. The only thing Tommy doesn’t want is separate sides for friends and family, considering the fact that Eric and Sal are all he has, but Eric insists. So Tommy decides to send an invite to Howie, Hen, Lucy, and Bobby. He also sends an invite to Eddie and Evan and hopes it isn’t a mistake.

Cut to Buck receiving a wedding invitation from Tommy 2 years after he broke up with Buck and never spoke to him again and Buck is like, “what the fuck?”

[puck-luck]

new beginnings | july 29 - august 4

note to the masses: this is a big week for honeytrev. don't let the fact that it's the shortest chapter yet (19.4k) fool you. enjoy ;) always looking forward to hearing y'all's feedback

----------

64:90 – HONEY

If Trevor has noticed that Honey is weirdly silent today, he hasn’t mentioned it. Part of that is probably based on the fact that they’ve been hanging out with the group all day, so Trevor is doing the thing that she asked him to do a couple of weeks ago– leave her alone and not make it so obvious that they’re together.

Honey’s staring is obvious. She’s been elbowed by Bea twice, with a hiss from the girl to “stop looking at him so much!” Honey has also been poked by Quinn, who will pointedly look from her to Trevor, then back to her, and shake his head. 

She can’t help it. There’s a lot on her mind and Honey feels a little bit like she’s losing control of herself. She’s become completely aware of herself in the wake of what happened yesterday, but she’s not… freaking out. Yet.

Honey hasn’t told Bea what happened. She knows she should, but she can’t say it out loud. How embarrassing is it to say that after she’d gotten thoroughly fucked, and Trevor had tucked her head into the crook of his neck, she’d caught a whiff of the sweat on his skin and kissed it, all before clocking the way she’d thought God, this is so great. He’s so great. I love…?

‘I love’ is as far as she’d gotten because she’d cut herself off, realizing how that sentence was about to end. 

That is too far. Here’s why: (1) Honey doesn’t even like Trevor like that. (2) She’s only known Trevor for two months. (3) Trevor is leaving at the end of the summer. (4) Trevor has no plans to come back, which means that barring some psycho coincidence, Honey will never see him again after August 25th. She does not think that about Trevor. She will not think that about Trevor.

Now, they’ve ventured out on their own. It’s a Monday, so Trevor and Honey are at the fruit stand, like always. She’s resolutely trying to ignore her thoughts and her feelings– actually, she’s trying to push them away… and failing.

Honey has one slight problem when it comes to Trevor, other than the one that she’s been lamenting for the past twenty-nine hours. The problem right now is that Trevor is very pretty. 

It starts with his hair. Honey has been looking at it a lot more since those interviewers asked Trevor about his routine and how he gets his hair the way that it is. He’s lucky. All he does is run his fingers through the hair, almost compulsively, and it falls perfectly. Honey has to tame her hair, but Trevor has it easy. She hopes that their kids get his hair.

That. What is that? Honey demands of herself, wishing she could reach up and slap herself across the face. Unfortunately, Trevor would have a problem with that. He would be very confused and Honey would not be able to explain herself. She doesn’t even want to try. They aren’t even dating– do you know how crazy she’d look if she started spouting shit like “I love you” and “I hope our babies get your hair?” She wrenches her eyes from Trevor’s profile and focuses on the pile of melons in front of her.

Their fruit stand shopping today is like Bea’s favorite term for when she and Honey hang out and do nothing together– ‘parallel play.’ Honey is silent, looking at the fruit in front of her. Trevor is silent, looking at the fruit in front of him.

It’s difficult to keep her eyes from his profile for long. Honey sneaks a glance and catches a glimpse of the ridge on Trevor’s nose. It’s such a straight and strong nose, very Greek, except for the curve at the top. That’s got some Romanness to it. Honey loves that nose. The few times that they’ve actually slept over together, Honey will wake when Trevor twitches in his sleep and she takes the time to admire his profile then, too. Ugh, now that she thinks about it, it’s that kind of indulgence that got her here.

Sweet, perfect Trevor. Patient, caring Trevor. He has no idea what’s going through Honey’s head. He has no clue that she’s over here thinking about how much she likes him, and then reminding herself that she can’t like him. 

Honey is starting to come around to Bea’s thinking, now that she’s feeling… what she assumes Bea is feeling, too, even though she hasn’t said it back to Quinn yet. She doesn’t fight it when he says it– Honey absolutely would fight it if Trevor said ‘I love you.’ 

Like, there’s no way, right? They’ve known each other for two months. Two months. Sixty days. No one should be allowed to love anyone, here. It was absurd when Quinn said it and it’s still absurd when Honey thinks it. 

But then, she looks at Trevor again, and her mind quiets. She likes to look at him, she likes to be with him, he smells nice, he’s kind when he speaks, and he’s good in bed. What more could she ask for?

Thomas used to be like that, too. 

At the thought, Honey stalls. She feels a bit sick to her stomach. It’s true– Thomas used to be just as amazing as Trevor is. She thought about their babies, once upon a time. Wanting to tear herself away from the thought of Thomas, before it ruins her day even further, Honey turns back to Trevor. She’s about to reach for his hand, but they’re full.

He holds two baskets in his hands, pursing his lips and alternating the baskets like he’s weighing them. Honey doesn't even know what is in the baskets– his fingers are covering the contents. She’s staring at the shadows that his eyelashes cast on his face.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Trevor says. He looks up and turns to her, soft smile on his face when they make eye contact. “What do you think, Hon?”

I like the way you say my name, Honey thinks. She blinks, feeling her face flush. She absolutely cannot look at Trevor’s eyes anymore– he’ll recognize the look on her face and think something about it, and then he’ll say something about it, and then she’ll have to explain herself, and there are no words to describe what’s going on in her mind.

She finally looks at the baskets in his hands. Raspberries or blueberries. “I don’t know,” she supplies uselessly. “They’re both good.”

Trevor shifts them in his hands so he’s holding both between his fingers. “Okay. Both it is.” He digs his wallet out of his pocket and hands it off to Honey. “Can you get my card out?”

Honey swallows hard, feeling discomfort crawl up the back of her throat. He’s so comfortable with her. He just hands his stuff over like it’s nothing, like they share everything with each other. “Yeah, sure.” She plucks the wallet from his fingers and flicks through the pockets.

“Do you want me to get you some peaches?” Trevor offers, sliding the baskets of berries into her mesh bag, which he's been carrying over his shoulder ever since they got out of the car.

A possessive feeling washes over Honey. That’s her bag that he’s carrying. She wants to remind him that she doesn’t need his help– the other half of her, the part hidden deep in her chest, wants to leave everything as is. Everything is going so great with Trevor. But, for some fucking reason, Honey just can’t give into the desire at the pit of her heart.

“No, I'm okay,” she says.

That catches Trevor’s attention. He catches her eye. “You love peaches. You were telling me last night that you'd run out.”

Honey feels slightly trapped. She did say that. Shit. “I mean, we can look at the peaches,” she mumbles, ducking her head.

Trevor furrows his eyebrows, although Honey is too busy staring at the cracks in the sidewalk and misses it. “Honey, are you okay?” He asks.

Honey sighs and rolls her eyes. “I'm fine. Let’s just look at the peaches.” She shoulders past Trevor and picks up one of the better looking fruits. 

Trevor’s fingers prod at hers like he wants to hold her hand. “Baby,” he says. “What's wrong?”

Honey snatches her hand back and snaps, “Don’t call me that.”

The look on Trevor’s face stings a lot more than Honey wants to admit. He physically recoils, like she’s slapped him, and the deepest pits of Honey’s chest are screaming at her to take it back. She wants to. She wishes she could rewind five seconds and let him take her hand, to avoid the look on his face if nothing else, but Honey can never seem to avoid sabotaging herself.

Honey can’t believe she loves Trevor. It’s not that he’s not lovable– evidently, she feels as though he’s very lovable. It’s just that... isn’t she past this? She went into this summer so certain that she’s not looking for what Trevor is giving her, and now she’s fallen headfirst for it. This is against every plan she had for herself over the past five years. The plan was to avoid feeling the way Thomas made her feel, and now Trevor has Honey’s heart in the palms of his hands, and everything is out of Honey’s control. She can’t even control her own feelings.

She’s blindsided. It crept up on her and now she’s reeling from the fact that she loves Trevor, without making a conscious decision to love him at all.

God, you get fucked on the pool table one time, and your whole life changes. What is in the water at that damn rental house?

Honey wants to scream in frustration. She wants to throw this peach at Trevor’s head because it’s his fault that she feels like this. He had to be fucking perfect. She wants to start bawling and wrap her arms around his neck and hide and be comforted by the way he smells. There are a hundred different things she’s feeling, none of which she wants to be feeling, and her brain is short-circuiting.

Trevor rubs over the back of his neck, his eyes meeting Honey’s sporadically and never for more than a second. He’s taken a step back from her and Honey thinks that he looks a little… afraid. “Did I do something?” He asks. He clears his throat, then clarifies, “To upset you?”

Honey’s brain goes with the third option. She wells up and rubs the heels of her hands over her eyes, having long since dropped the peach back in the pile. “No,” she admits miserably. “I’m being stupid. I just– everything seems like a lot right now. Too much.”

“You’re not being stupid. What’s too much?” Trevor asks. “Other than everything. If you could narrow it down.”

“This,” Honey tells him tearfully, gesturing between them. “It’s a lot.”

His lips press together in a thin line before he speaks. “Good or bad?” Trevor pushes, closing the space between himself and Honey. 

She wants to grab his shirt and tug him even closer, but her arms only rise to cross over her stomach in a tense hug. She shrugs, her chin wobbling a bit. “Both,” Honey whispers. Her eyes burn and she sniffs, looking towards the brick wall of the grocery store.

Trevor nods, calculating his next move. She can see the wheels turning in his head. “Why don’t we go home?”

Home, Honey repeats in her head. How can he call her place home? How can she love him?

Trevor talks on. “We can sit in silence and I’ll just cuddle you a bit, if that’ll help.”

Honey’s lower lip juts out. Sitting in silence and cuddling is what got her into this mess. “I don’t know,” she replies, voice cracking embarrassingly. It registers that Joan is not-so secretly watching this whole event unfold. Honey swipes her thumbs beneath her eyes and covers her mouth with one of her hands.

“Sweetheart,” Trevor tries, but he shuts his mouth abruptly when an indignant whine leaves Honey. That’s no better than ‘baby,’ even though her stomach usually flutters when he uses both terms. Trevor takes a deep breath and shifts her bag to his other shoulder, reaching for the car keys. He holds them out to her wordlessly, so Honey takes them.

She starts the car while she waits for him to pay for her fruit. A sinking feeling creeps over her when it computes that he’s paying for her, again. He’s taking care of her. Again.

It’s another minute after Trevor returns to the car before he speaks. “Can I just sit with you?” Trevor asks. “I just– I want to be there if you need me.”

Honey hides her face in her hands. She doesn’t know how to respond. 

Yes, of course, please sit with me, I do need you there. No, I don’t want you to see me like this. You deserve someone who doesn’t have to fight an internal battle just to love you. 

The thoughts joust in her head. “I don’t want to decide.” She sounds pitiful. “I don’t want anything. But I don’t not want anything. I don’t know.”

“Let’s just drive around for a bit,” Trevor suggests. “We’ll go down the parkway. You don’t have to decide yet. We can ignore everything for a minute. Is that... better?”

Honey shrugs. She really feels helpless and unsure. Not even ignorance is an appealing feeling. This has been eating at her since yesterday and it’s just about consumed her entirely. “I guess?” She asks.

Trevor holds eye contact with her and quirks his lips in a dissatisfied, but well-meaning smile. He looks sympathetic. “Let’s just get you home. I think you might feel better if you’re in your bed.” He starts the car and drives out of town, toward her house. 

The drive is silent. When they get to Honey’s house, she heads upstairs and he puts her fruit haul away. Trevor has started to learn what her system is, after doing this a couple of times, and it’s another thing that reminds Honey how much she likes him.

She goes upstairs and burrows in her bed, already feeling comforted by the warmth of the covers and the soft pillows around her. 

Trevor climbs the stairs to her room and peeks his head in the door, laughing fondly at the sight of Honey. She pouts at him, then Trevor walks across the floor and leans down to kiss Honey’s forehead. “I’m going to go,” Trevor tells her, speaking under his breath. He presses another kiss above her eyebrow. “It doesn’t seem like it’s helping… to have me nearby. I think I’m making you more anxious. Can you promise me something? Before I go?”

Honey nods.

“You’ll call me.” Trevor smooths Honey’s hair behind her ear. His eyes are a clear and earnest green, shining with admiration.  “If you need anything, promise you’ll call me?”

Honey nods a second time, trying to lift the corners of her mouth in a convincing way. 

“Whatever you want,” Trevor continues, bumping the tip of his nose against Honey’s cheekbone like a gentle, tender headbutt. “Even if it’s not me. If you need Bea, then you give me a call and I’ll drag her out of Quinn’s bed for you. I’ll drop her off on your doorstep, wearing nothing but his bedsheet. Does that sound okay with you?”

Honey tries and fails to hold back a laugh, imagining how annoyed Bea would feel and how silly she’d look. All in all, it would make a hilarious scene in a movie. Honey might just take Trevor up on that. Still giggling a bit, she nods a third time– it’s a much more confident movement this time.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Trevor asks with a tiny smile on his face, proud of himself for drawing a laugh from Honey. He cups Honey’s cheek and meets her lips in a chaste kiss.

His final kiss feels a lot like ‘I love you.’

Honey wishes she hadn’t thought that. Now she can’t even promise to see him tomorrow. She pulls the covers over her head and listens to Trevor chuckle before he descends from the loft and leaves her alone.

65:90 – TREVOR

Trevor barely slept last night. He was tossing and turning, checking his phone every few minutes in case Honey needed him. He wanted to burn the world down when she’d gone quiet and hugged herself. She had looked so small and insecure and Trevor never wants to see her like that again. He wants to take all of her problems and bury them deep in the dirt, where no one will ever find them.

But there was nothing that he could do. So he left.

He didn’t want to. For a minute, Trevor had stood at the bottom of the loft stairs and thought about staying. He could’ve sat on her couch silently until she appeared, venturing out for dinner or something, and then they could’ve talked about it. 

After taking pause, Trevor had shaken his head and moved along. Honey probably would not have liked to walk down the stairs and be surprised by Trevor, who she had told to leave a few hours earlier. So, he left the house and drove down the parkway for a little while on his own, trying to decipher what very little Honey had said.

Trevor doesn’t feel any better about it, even after running through every possible scenario in his mind. He’s not quite sure what upset her, or what caused the regression and confusion, but it seems like going away from her was the best option. She’s not upset anymore.

On the other hand, she’s not exactly talking to him. It’s not an intentional ‘I’m-ignoring-you-and-I-hate-you’ silence, but Trevor feels disjointed nonetheless. He’s adhering to her ‘Let’s-not-make-this-obvious’ rule although he’d like nothing more than to throw his arm over her shoulder and walk alongside her under the fluorescent, jarring white lights of this Target in Winston-Salem. 

That’s how Bea and Quinn are standing. His arm is over her shoulder and her elbow is bent so that she can hold his hand, even though the angle is awkward for her. They didn’t even amend their position when a fan came up to Jack and asked for a picture with him, which he declined, but it did stroke his ego a bit. That’s good, because now he’s in a good mood. Trevor was surprised that Bea and Quinn didn’t inch apart when the boys were recognized– Honey certainly would have sprung away from him. 

He understands, though. Honey’s whole life was derailed by some photos and some gossip. It’s not like he can offer her the most private existence, but he thinks he can keep her mostly away from prying eyes if that’s what she wants. She doesn’t have to jump away from him. 

Surely they won’t hide their relationship forever, right? Eventually, Trevor will be allowed to flaunt her and show Honey off like she deserves. 

It’ll be really awkward if Trevor is the only one doing the first dance at their wedding reception because she doesn’t want to be seen by the public. There are very few things that Trevor won’t budge on, but a big party after the wedding with all of their friends is one of those things. 

“Litchton should have a Target,” Bea says, running her hands over a rack of dresses. “I miss the vibe in stores like this.”

Inviting the boys to Target had been Bea’s idea, according to Quinn. It’s not that Honey didn’t want them to come, but Trevor knows that this is a thing that she and Bea do together. They’ve gone to Target together on this day every year since leaving Charlotte because it’s the anniversary of when they finished apartment shopping. They’re very sentimental over things like this– the girls have all these little traditions that they allow the boys to experience. It’s nice. Trevor enjoys being around them.

He wishes he could be closer to Honey, though. She’s looking through the racks of clothes and she’s got a little crease between her eyebrows.

“Wouldn’t be Litchton if there was a Target,” Honey replies, eyes flickering up to look at Bea in the mirror. “You don’t like the Food Lion?”

“You know the Food Lion has a different vibe than this,” Bea laughs.

Honey scoffs out a laugh and begins to rifle through the hangers again. She shakes her head as she laughs, then the frown returns to her face as she evaluates the clothes. 

It would be so nice to stand behind her and wrap his arms around her middle. Trevor doesn’t care about the clothes. He just wants to hug his pretty girlfriend and get rid of that line between her brows.

Trevor pulls his phone out of his pocket and composes a message. 

You want a coffee? He texts Honey. I can go grab one for you.

She doesn’t check her phone right away. It’s a few minutes until she does, after Bea and Quinn went to go look at makeup and Jack and Luke went to look at the beer. Cole is looking through a stack of t-shirts and Honey finishes up with the rack of clothes she was on. Trevor is standing next to Cole, at a safe distance away from Honey, but he’s watching her.

The corners of her mouth twitch upward when she reads the text. 

No, but you’re sweet.

Trevor is quick to reply, hoping to catch her before she slides the phone back into her pocket. 

Taste sweet too. Will I see you later? ;)

The wink is to make her laugh. It works, but only barely– instead of laughing the way that she probably wants to at Trevor’s comedic props, she side-eyes him and types a very short reply:

LOL.

Then, she puts her phone away and disappears around the back of the aisle.

Trevor turns to Cole.

He holds up a pink t-shirt with a unicorn and a rainbow on the front. “Do you think this would look good on me?” Cole asks.

“Yeah. I’ve always said that you seem like the kind of guy to wear a crop top,” Trevor says. “The pink with the unicorns and the rainbows would really work for you.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll get a matching one for Honey,” Cole says with a nod to himself. “Do you know what size she is?”

Trevor blinks in surprise, then has to school his reaction. Cole asked his question so nonchalantly that he was probably just wondering aloud. 

“I don’t know. Maybe just get her a medium to be safe. Take a receipt when you buy it so that she can return it if she hates it. You know she’ll probably hate it,” Trevor tells him.

“Yeah, I know. But she’ll like it ‘cause it’s our thing, like how Bea and I watch the same dating show because it’s good and funny. Honey and I will have the same shirt.”

“What if she returns it?”

“Meh, she won’t,” Cole replies with a shrug. “She actually likes us a lot more than she says. I don’t think it was Bea’s idea to invite us to come to Target.”

Trevor furrows his brow. “You don’t?”

Cole shakes his head. “Quinn and Bea take credit for a lot of things, but I saw the texts on Quinn’s phone. They have a group chat. Honey said, like, ‘If you guys want to come you can’ and that was it. I’m glad, too. It’s been a while since I was in a Target like this. I feel like we’re back at NTDP shootin’ the shit and being annoying kids.”

“Yeah, we’re like a real friend group,” Trevor laughs, speaking somewhat sarcastically. Of course they’re a real friend group. They’re together for the entire summer. “Imagine that.”

Cole shrugs again. “I just think it’s nice. I miss Michigan and being home for the summer, but this is really nice. I think we should come back next year.”

“I don’t know if Jack will let us kidnap him again,” Trevor says. 

“He won’t have a choice. Quinn will want to see Bea again and I think all of us will want to see both of the girls. If Jack doesn’t come, though, maybe the girls can come to Michigan.” Cole balls the shirt, and Honey’s matching one, up in his fist. “Let’s go find the dudes.”

As they continue shopping, Trevor mulls this over in his mind: he’s not the only one who wants to come back to Litchton and continue to hang out with these girls. Cole and the other boys, Quinn by name, have been thinking about it too. Trevor might just call a rental house family meeting and broach the subject.

66:90 – HONEY

“Let’s go outside,” Trevor proposes. He pinches Honey’s bare sides with his spindly fingers and kisses over the curve of her breast. “We can go look at the stars.”

“Trevor, dear, you’re the one laying on top of me,” Honey points out, teasing him with the pet name and tweaking his nose between her knuckles. “I couldn’t get up if I tried.”

“Well, you’re also under the covers, so I’m not the only thing keeping you here.” Trevor catches one nipple between his teeth and bites, then switches to the other and repeats the same action, then rolls to Honey’s side and reaches for the t-shirt that he’d dropped off the side of the bed before he and Honey had made good use of their nakedness. He pulls the t-shirt over her head and squeezes her hips before he throws the covers off of both of them and goes to find his own clothes.

Honey tucks the covers underneath her armpits. “I feel like I’m in a movie,” Honey says. “I’m one of those one night stands who wears your sheets like a strapless dress.”

“You’re not quite a one night stand,” Trevor replies with a laugh. He pulls a shirt over his head and ruffles his hair once it springs free. “But if it makes you happy, then you can keep pretending, baby.”

Honey doesn’t correct him this time– she probably never will again. After a day or so of freaking out over the whole “I love you” thought, Honey decided that it was a nonissue. So long as she never admits it or allows herself to think that again, everything will be fine. Therefore, Trevor is still allowed to call Honey ‘baby’ and ‘sweetheart.’ 

Honey swings her legs over the edge of the bed and leaves her hookup-bedsheet-dress on Trevor’s mattress. His t-shirt falls over her hips, but she still needs shorts. She reaches past Trevor and digs through his underwear drawer to find a pair of cute boxers, which she’ll steal for a while.

Trevor sidles up behind her and wraps his arms around her middle. “You don’t really think you’re a one night stand for me, do you?”

He kisses her cheek right as she shakes her head and says, “No, Trev. You know I don’t think that.”

“I don’t know much of what you think at all,” Trevor says, pouting slightly. “I know we’re hooking up. I know that I think you’re my girlfriend. I don’t know where you stand, Hon.”

Honey rolls her head back onto Trevor’s shoulder. “Do we have to talk about it now?” 

“I just want some confirmation that you like me,” Trevor teases. He kisses down Honey’s neck and blows cool air over her clavicle. “Since every time I show you affection, you laugh at me.”

“Trevor,” Honey complains. “That’s just not true.”

“Okay, fine, last time when I said you liked me, you kissed me. But I want to hear you say it,” Trevor whines. He squeezes Honey a little tighter. “Tell me!”

Honey giggles and wiggles away from Trevor. “Absolutely not.” She sneaks to the door and listens to the hallway, waiting for any noise from the boys. She’d gotten into Trevor’s room without any trouble, but getting out is another story. 

“Anyone out there?” Trevor asks. 

“I don’t think so, but you’ll have to go first.” Honey puts her hand out, which Trevor takes. He kisses the back of her hand when he nears the door, then swoops in to take Honey’s lips. 

“Meet you in the car?”

“Yeah, give me three minutes.” Honey puckers her lips and pecks Trevor’s mouth. “Then I’ll join you.”

“And you’ll tell me that you like me?” Trevor asks. “While I chauffeur you around and find a pretty place to look at the stars?”

“In your dreams,” Honey says. 

“We do a lot more than talk about how much we like each other in my dreams,” Trevor replies. “Unfortunately you and I already did the other stuff in real life, so I’m just waiting on those three words.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Honey tells him. If only he knew just what she was thinking– Trevor would be over the moon. She likes him so much that she dared to discover that she loves Trevor, in this bizarre turn of events. Maybe Trevor’s asking Honey if she likes him because he, somehow, has figured out that she’s in love with him. Ughhhhhh.

Trevor slips from the bedroom first, giving himself a head start. Honey primps her hair in the mirror above his dresser while she waits her three minutes, which gives Trevor enough time to start the car and get the AC running before she joins him.

They escape from the house without running into the guys, although Honey can hear them talking in the distance. They probably look out the window once Trevor starts driving down the road that leads up to the house, but Honey shields her face from the window so they can’t see her even if they tried to be big snoops. 

Cole especially has a problem with snooping– he texted the group chat she has with Bea and Quinn yesterday through Quinn’s phone. She’s not sure if he read all the messages, but she’d glad that they hadn’t been chatting about Honey and Trevor’s relationship that day. It would have been very weird for Cole to read messages about Honey and Trevor being together and all mushy when the name of the group chat is ‘Zegras Haters.’

It takes them all of ten minutes to drive to the reservoir where they spend their lake days. Trevor parks in the same lot where they always park, but instead of going down towards the boat piers, Trevor slings his arm over Honey’s shoulders and walks toward the swimming piers. 

It’s dark out and night has fully fallen, so the piers have been closed for ages. There’s no one around. 

“How romantic is this?” Trevor bumps Honey’s hip with his own. “This date is so much better than dinner.”

“This is a date?” Honey asks. “But we already fucked. Why am I buying the cow when I already got the milk for free?”

“Because you’re a wonderful farmer who enjoys animal life,” Trevor says. He drags Honey down when he sits, his feet dangling over the edge of the pier. “I think you’re a very benevolent owner. I am never afraid of you sacrificing me to make burger patties on a whim.”

“You’d make a very tasty burger,” Honey assures Trevor, patting his cheek kindly and settling down against his side. Her feet dangle over the water as well.

Trevor leans over to kiss her and Honey redirects him, clasping his hand with both of hers and looking out onto the water.

“It’s nice out here,” Honey says. “It’s still. The water is.”

Trevor lets out a half-chuckle, smiling with a dipped head. “It is nice out here.” He leans against Honey, pressing his thigh against hers. “But I think it’s the company that makes it nice, not the weather. If it started raining right now, I’d still want to be here with you.”

Honey awws internally. He’s a sweet boy– so sweet that it rots her gut and makes her heart thump. He’s got a rocky exterior, although Honey managed to penetrate that within seconds, even despite her better efforts to keep Trevor at an arm’s length. He’s so good to her.

“I have to tell you something,” Honey says suddenly. 

“Oh, yeah?” Trevor asks, quirking his eyebrows. “Sharing a big secret with me?”

“Mm, huge,” Honey says. She grins at Trevor and pinches his chin between her thumb and index finger. “Come closer, I can’t say it out loud.”

Trevor’s smile widens. He shuffles closer, leaning in so he’s about two millimeters from Honey’s lips. “What’s up, baby?” Trevor whispers. “What’s the big secret?”

“I…” Honey trails off, touching Trevor’s waist. 

“You…?” Trevor questions, tilting his head and eying Honey’s lips.

“I like…” Honey continues to tease him, balling her fingers in the fabric of Trevor’s shirt. 

Trevor wiggles his eyebrows. “You like… me? Is this the big reveal?”

“I like… the idea of going for a swim,” Honey announces with a big shove.

“Hey!” Trevor goes flying off the edge of the pier and swallows a mouthful of water while exclaiming at Honey. He splutters when he resurfaces, shaking his hair out of his face like a dog.

Honey’s laughing aloud, clutching her stomach. “Oh my God, the look on your face, Trev,” she giggles.

“Oh, you’re funny,” Trevor says. “You’re very funny, Hon.”

In a flash, he fixes his fingers around her ankle and tugs her into the water with him. Honey is submerged in cold, nighttime water. Her clothes are saturated with the water immediately and Honey can feel her socks, and her shoes, grow heavy.

“Trevor!” Honey shouts. 

Trevor swims closer and wraps his arms around Honey, treading water and keeping them afloat. “What, baby? You said you liked the idea of a swim. I wasn’t going to be the only one in the water.” Trevor finishes his sentence with a kiss, palming Honey’s ass over his soaked boxers.

Honey frowns. “Trevor,” she complains. “Ugh, you’re so mean to me. You got my shoes all wet.”

“You started it,” Trevor tells her. He nuzzles against Honey’s neck and kisses up to her mouth. 

“Ugh, but now I have to put my shoes in the dryer,” Honey says. “Maybe I’ll use the dryer at the Nook so that I don’t break my own, but I bet Ada would get mad at me.”

“I don’t know how Ada could get mad at your pretty face,” Trevor murmurs. 

“I don’t think she cares about how pretty I am,” Honey replies. She kisses him briefly, then swims back to the pier and pulls herself up. “Neither will you when I drip all over the interior of your car.”

“Nah, you’re always pretty to me,” Trevor says, paddling after her. “I think I’d think you’re pretty even when you’re deathly ill.”

“I hope you never see me when I’m deathly ill,” Honey scolds, cutting her eyes at Trevor. “I’m notoriously grumpy when I’m sick. Bea hates it.”

“Bea doesn’t like you as much as I do.” Trevor pulls himself onto the pier as well, then whips off his shirt and wrings it out. “That’s just a fact.”

“I don’t know, Trev. She’s known me longer.”

“Not quite as intimately,” Trevor says. He pulls Honey closer, looping his wet shirt over her shoulders and dragging her forward. He bends down and kisses her. “Wanna sneak back into the house and spend the night with me?”

“Maybe we go straight to my house instead?” Honey asks.

“I don’t have clothes there,” Trevor points out.

Honey eyes Trevor. “You don’t need clothes at my house, Trev.”

“Oh!” He exclaims. His teeth glint under the moonlight, smile wolfish. “If you want me naked, just say so.”

“I will claim no such thing.”

Trevor hums. “You don’t have to say it out loud. I know the truth. You need more milk from your cow.”

Honey laughs. “That sounds so gross when you say it like that,” she groans.

Trevor draws Honey’s t-shirt up as much as he can before she shoves it back down, covering her stomach and the underboob that Trevor exposed. She glares at him, but all Trevor does is grin. 

With his hair all wet and stringy like that, and his nose dripping with water droplets, and his skin glimmering under the moonlight, Honey can’t do anything but take back her glare and kiss him again.

67:90 – TREVOR

“When do you guys leave?” Honey asks, reaching into the communal pile of laundry and coming up with a t-shirt. “Whose is this?”

“Mine,” Luke says.

“We leave tomorrow,” Quinn adds. 

Honey folds the shirt and hands it to Luke to put in his pile. She frowns. “What about–”

“We’re not leaving until after the softball game, don’t worry,” Bea assures Honey. “I already signed the boys up to play, anyway, so we can’t miss it. Earl wouldn’t be happy with us if we left early and took three of his players.”

“I’m surprised you’re going to Michigan with the guys,” Trevor tells Bea offhandedly, folding some of Cole’s socks into a little ball and launching them at the boy. “Are you ready to hang out with Ellen and Jim while the boys are on the shoot?”

“I don’t think I’ll be hanging out with them that much,” Bea laughs. “Q said I could come to the shoot if I wanted.”

“Big Jim will take you golfing, probably,” Cole says. “He’s finally got someone he can beat.”

“He’ll be sorely disappointed when I turn him down,” Bea replies. “I’d rather tan at the pool.”

“You can do whatever you want at the house,” Quinn says directly to Bea. “Don’t let Mom and Dad pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do.” He pats Bea’s behind before grabbing another article of clothing from the pile.

Doing communal laundry has become a once a week thing. It’s easier for them to do laundry together than to each do laundry for themselves– plus, this way, there are at least five people doing the folding. The pile of clothes disappears much quicker when they’re all helping out, rather than when Trevor would do his laundry alone.

“What’s the schedule like for the shoot?” Honey asks.

Jack shrugs. “We’ll be there all day, probably. We have to do a lot of media so they can stagger the release. Then Quinn and Bea are coming back on Monday so that Bea can go to work–” He pointedly side-eyes Honey, who shrugs with one shoulder and smiles to herself. Trevor presumes she made a big deal out of Bea missing a week of work to hang out in Michigan, not that it truly matters. “And Luke and I will hang out at the house with Mom and Dad until next Thursday.”

“We’ll be without you for a whole week?” Honey laments sarcastically, grabbing Jack’s left hand with both of her own and holding it close to her chest, like she’s clutching at her pearls. “Whatever will we do!”

Jack pulls his hand free and sneers at Honey. “Fuck off.”

“He’s excited to go home,” Cole says, grinning widely and reaching over to punch Jack’s arm. “Jack might never come back, actually. You know it was a big fight to get him here in the first place.”

“I’ll come back,” Jack groans, lips tilted down like they always are when people start to poke fun at him. “It wasn’t that big a deal when we first got here.”

“We had to triple-belt you in the backseat,” Trevor says. He snorts out a laugh and grabs a pair of Jack’s underwear from the pile– they’d all decided separately that they’d do their intimates on their own time, but Jack seems to have missed the memo. Well, that, or he just doesn’t care.

“You didn’t have to,” Jack grumbles. “You just did it to piss me off. It’s like how you made me take the first shift driving, even though I’d just woken up.”

“Technically, it wasn’t the first shift,” Trevor corrects. “After all, Coley and I had to drive down to N.J. to pick you up.”

Jack’s face stiffens and sours. “I don’t want to hear about your technicalities,” he says.

Trevor shrugs, smug because Jack can’t manage to form a proper reply… likely because Trevor stated only facts and Jack can’t be delusional when faced with facts.

“It’s okay, Jacky. I’m not so emotionally repressed that I can’t admit when I’ll miss someone,” Honey tells him in a sickeningly sweet voice, petting over Jack’s shoulder. “I’ll say it enough for the both of us. We’ll miss you so much while you’re gone for one whole week. I mean, what’s Trevor going to do without you?”

To seal her joke, Trevor makes a kissy face at Jack. 

Jack doesn’t take the joke well, even though everyone else is chuckling at the unfolding events. He curls his lip at Trevor, looking judgmental and offended. 

The conversation lulls after that. The pile is down to the last ten items– all pairs of Jack’s underpants– and everyone disperses.

Cole and Bea disappear upstairs to make some bowls of ice cream for the group, Honey and Luke head off to the foosball table to compete in something new for a change, and Quinn sits down in the middle of the sofa and kicks his legs up on the coffee table in front of him. He whistles as he sits, the opposite of intimidating, so Trevor decides to join him. Jack is still folding his own laundry.

“Hey, man,” Trevor says, knocking Quinn with his elbow as he hops over the back of the couch and settles down on the cushion next to Quinn.

Quinn side-eyes him. “Hey.”

“What’s up?”

“Why are you talking to me,” Quinn replies in a monotone voice.

Trevor rolls his eyes. Can’t he talk to his friend without a fight? “Because you’re so approachable,” he tells Quinn sarcastically. “No, really. I was going to ask you about going to Mich.”

“What about going to Michigan?” Quinn asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Are you excited to go back?” Trevor asks. His questions start easy– he doesn’t want Quinn to refuse to answer him right away. He gives himself four questions before Quinn frowns and leaves the couch.

Quinn looks at Trevor. “Yeah. Michigan is fun.”

Well, he’s responding, but he’s giving Trevor absolutely nothing to work with. Trevor might as well cut to the chase now and evict Quinn from the couch with his questions.

He will refrain– Trevor wants to get full use of all four of his questions.

“Did Jim get the boat ready for y’all?” Trevor asks. 

“Y’all,” Quinn repeats with a scoff. “Careful, Z. You’re starting to sound like Honey.”

“Not Honey,” Trevor says with a look over his shoulder. He wants to make sure no one is listening in. “I’m just picking up the colloquialisms of the locals.”

Quinn’s eyes widen and he laughs. “The colloquialisms? We’ve gotta get you out of here. You’re starting to sound smart. That’s against nature.”

Trevor rolls his eyes. He’s smart. He reads books. It’s not Litchton’s fault that he seems intelligent. “Well, did he?”

“He’s been keeping the boat warm all summer,” Quinn says. “Just because we aren’t there doesn’t mean Jim and Ellen can’t enjoy the water. They’re still doing all the normal shit, just without us.”

“Bro, you’re so dry,” Trevor complains. “I’m just trying to talk with you.”

“No, Trevor, you’re trying to butter me up so I don’t walk away when you ask me about Bea. Go ahead and ask. I know you want to.”

How does he know? Is he a psychic? A mind reader? Does Trevor hate Quinn– possibly. He gets closer and closer to saying yes every day. Just when they make headway… they stop.

Fine. Three questions is enough for Trevor.

“Why did you invite her?” Trevor asks, trying not to sound as blunt as the question is. 

“To Michigan,” Quinn clarifies. “Why did I invite her to Michigan?”

“Yeah,” Trevor says.

Quinn starts to laugh, loud. “Because she’s my girlfriend, Trevor. Yeah, I’m going to take her home with me and my brothers.”

Trevor checks over his shoulders. Honey is watching him, one eyebrow raised. Everyone else is minding their business– everyone else being Luke, as Jack has gone upstairs to put his laundry away and Bea and Cole have not returned yet.

“Yeah, but, like, you’re breaking up,” Trevor says. “Why would you take her home if you’re breaking up?”

“God, you guys are all obsessed with me and Bea breaking up,” Quinn groans. “It’s not the end of the world. We’re on the same page– her and me. That’s it. We’re the only people who need to know about our relationship.”

“That’s fine, I just don’t get it,” Trevor concedes, frowning at Quinn. “I’m asking because I want you to explain it to me.”

“I don’t know why you need to know so bad,” Quinn deflects.

Trevor shakes his head in frustration and leans in close. “My girlfriend cares a whole lot about Bea’s happiness,” Trevor hisses lowly. “So, yeah, I need as much information as I can get. For her.”

“Don’t act like you’re asking this for Honey,” Quinn says. “You’re nosy, bro. You’re asking this for yourself.”

Trevor pauses, staring at Quinn. “Look, I know I get on your nerves, man. I get that you would hang with any of the other guys over me,” he informs Quinn in his lowest, deadliest voice. “But we’re still buddies. We’ve known each other forever. I’m allowed to ask about your life. So, really, Quinn. Why did you invite Bea to the lake house?”

Quinn’s eyes drift over to the aforementioned girl, who is now bounding down the stairs with two bowls of ice cream in her hands. She beelines for Honey, handing over the bowl in her left hand, and begins eating one of the scoops in her own bowl. Her eyes are rapt on the foosball table and Quinn’s are stuck on her. He smiles slightly and Trevor thinks that he’s forgotten about the question.

“We just want to spend as much time together as we can before I go,” Quinn replies.

Trevor looks over his shoulder, following Quinn’s gaze. Bea has turned to them and sticks her tongue out at Quinn, a bit of ice cream still coating the muscle. She smiles wide.

Next to Bea, Honey’s got a look of determination on her face that is unrivaled by any of the competitive men in the house. Her lips are pressed together, teeth gnawing at the inside of her cheeks, and her knuckles are nearly white against the rods that control her foosball team.

God, she’s gorgeous. They spent nearly twenty-four hours together yesterday– and into this morning– and Trevor still hasn’t quite gotten his fill of her. They should go upstairs. They should go upstairs, to Trevor’s bed, and never leave it. They’ll teleport back to Anaheim together and Trevor will only teleport out of bed to go to the rink for practices and games, otherwise he’ll be stuck to Honey’s side like gorilla glue.

Quinn’s words make a lot of sense. It’s the first of August. They’ve only got twenty-four days left together. Why wouldn’t Bea go to Michigan with the boys? 

“Yeah,” Trevor breathes out. He nods, but it’s mostly to himself. “I get it.”

When Luke gives up on foosball and runs to take his own laundry upstairs, Trevor gets up from the couch and joins Honey. 

“Are you free tonight?” Trevor mumbles, tugging on her belt loop discreetly as he adjusts the pronged scoring unit on the end of the table. He straightens out the goalie so that he’s standing tall.

“Are you trying to come over?” Honey replies.

“I thought we’d try again on the whole ‘I like you’ thing,” Trevor teases. “No lake this time. Just you, me, and my tongue on your pretty pussy. How many times do you think I can make you come before you say that you like me?”

Honey blanches and looks around the basement. “Someone could hear you, Trevor.”

Trevor looks down. “Do you think we could tell them sometime?” He’s fiddling with the foosball players now, rounding the other side of the table and taking two of the rods in his hands. He’s sheepish when he continues and as quiet as he can be without anyone other than Honey hearing him. Cole has finally returned downstairs, as has Jack. “I want– I miss touching you.” 

Honey makes a soft noise in the back of her throat. “We can… talk about it. Later. Saturday. When everyone’s gone.”

“Cole won’t be gone,” Trevor points out, but he’s smiling. Honey is willing to have a conversation about going public– that’s a good sign.

Honey stares at him with a reproachful eye. 

“I’ll dispose of him,” Trevor amends, trying to hide his smile from the girl. He doesn’t want her to know how excited he is that they’re moving forward in their relationship. If he can just get her to admit that she has feelings for him, then they’ll be golden.

“Good,” Honey tells him curtly. “Now drop the ball– I’m gonna kick your butt. Whoever loses has to pay Griffin for the weed we’ll consume while the Hugheses are gone.”

68:90 – HONEY

“Stop heckling me!” Jack snaps. His head turns towards the bleachers so quickly that he might have given himself whiplash. He points the end of the bat at Bea and Honey, glaring ferociously. “How do you expect me to bat when you’re yelling constantly?”

“Aren’t you an athlete?” Honey calls back. “You can’t handle a little heckling from the audience?”

“My audience is always behind the glass!”

“Stop making excuses!” Bea shouts, shaking her fist above her head. “Hit the ball!”

“Yeah, hit the ball!” Cole echos from second base. 

“You guys should be ejected,” Jack grumbles with a scowl. 

“We’ve been coming to these games a lot longer than you have, Jack,” Honey tells him. “You’re just some eye candy for the ladies. Right, ladies?”

Scarlett hoots next to Honey, clapping enthusiastically. 

Litchton’s annual softball game usually goes one of two ways: not enough people sign up to play and they dissolve the game after three innings or…

Well, they’re in the fifth inning now and the concession stand– Sarah and her husband’s traveling bar cart from the wine shop– is almost out of alcohol. Honey, Bea, and the ladies practically monopolized the shooters that Sarah brought. The seven of them had finished all thirty of the shooters by the time the third inning ended. It’s not as crazy as it sounds, to be fair. It was only four shots each, plus an extra for Honey and Bea. The founding ladies of Litchton had claimed that they were too old to take the remaining shots… even though they had been the ones to choose the stronger drink before the game started. They could’ve had wine or beer, but Scarlett had moseyed behind her daughter’s cart and nabbed the entire pack of tiny vodka bottles for the price of “Sarah, I put clothes on your back and food on your plate for the first two decades of your life, these drinks cost less than that did!”

A lot of the game’s success can be attributed to the boys. It’s not that the other players aren’t good, it’s just that they know each other too well to be competitive. 

Earl can’t run anymore, so he’s the permanent pitcher. He stands on the mound and trash-talks every person who comes to the plate, especially the people in town that he’s known their whole lives. The best part is that he always knows exactly what to say to piss those people off and break their focus.

Some of the outsiders– specifically Quinn, Trevor, and Cole– are able to escape Earl’s teasing. They brush it off easily. Quinn handles the jibes about Bea well, chuckling and shaking his head before choking up on the bat. When he hits the ball to the back corner of the field, where Sacha’s husband stands every year despite needing a cane in the winter months, Quinn blows Bea a kiss as he jogs through the bases. Earl doesn’t bring Bea up after that.

Cole escapes because he’s Vera’s favorite– Honey is nearly certain that she’d told Earl something that morning, banning him from talking bad to her Sweetie. Honey can hear it now, imagining Vera taking out her curlers and eying Earl in her vanity mirror, saying, “Now, I better not hear you talk bad to that young man on the field today. He has been nothing but kind and sweet to us, helpin’ with inventory and unloadin’ things for the store. You oughta treat him with some respect.” There’s no confirmation that Vera actually said anything to Earl, but the man only grunts with a stink-eye when Cole comes up to bat. Vera claps and hollers each time he hits the ball and Cole runs through the bases like Rocky, arms raised above his head.

Honey will admit that she was nervous when Trevor came up to bat. Earl knows about her and Trevor– the same way that, apparently, he knows about Bea and Quinn. Her heart was racing when Earl opened his mouth, but all he’s been doing is spouting trash-talk about Trevor’s appearance: his tattoos, his hair that’s too long (well, Earl is an army man and a boomer, so…), his short shorts, and that stupid athletic brace he’s wearing around his ankle. She’s glad that Earl isn’t saying anything, but she also knows that he could. Honey didn’t ask him to keep her relationship hush-hush. All she’d done was say that she didn’t know if Trevor really felt… all that way about her.

Maybe her hesitation had been enough of a sign for Earl to keep quiet. Honey has always liked him and he’s always liked her, in his grumpy old-man grandfather-figure way.

Jack and Luke are a different story. Luke blushes too easily and always greets Earl sheepishly, ever since he’d been called out for chopping his own wood instead of buying some at the hardware store. That makes him an easy target. Jack is too darn cocky for his own good, which is perfect for Earl. With the help of the girls on the sideline, who find it hilarious to giggle about Jack until he’s pouting and shouting in their direction, Earl is able to get under his skin and strike him out. It’s been that way for the last three innings. Jack hasn’t had a good hit since the ladies on the bleachers stopped drinking.

He’s winding up and glaring at Earl again, probably ready to claim that he didn’t hit the ball because the sun was in his eyes, when Bea lays herself down along the bleachers and puts her head on Honey’s lap.

“What are you going to do while I’m gone?” Bea asks conversationally.

Honey brings her hand to Bea’s hair and traces it absentmindedly, leaning back on her other palm and lifting her face to bathe her features in the sunlight. It feels nice, like a physical touch, but that’s probably only because Honey is tipsy. “Look at your picture and cry, probably,” Honey teases. “Because I’ll miss you so much.”

Bea’s lips curl into a soft smile, her eyes glinting with affection. “I love it when you’re sweet to me,” she decides. “Sometimes I really think you’re tired of me by now.”

Honey snorts. “I don’t think I could get tired of you, Buzz. If I could, I think we’d know it by now.”

“Where are you going?” Rosalind asks Bea, leaning forward and patting her knee. “You didn’t tell us anything about a vacation when we were knitting this week.”

“It’s a recent thing,” Bea says, waving her off. “I didn’t know I was going on Tuesday. The brothers and I are leaving for Michigan tonight, they have a couple of appointments for their jobs and they wanted to visit their parents. Quinn asked if I wanted to come, so I said yes. We’re heading out after the game.”

“Are you flying?” Sacha asks. “It’s a bit late to be flying, sweetheart. You oughta be on your way if you’re driving down to Charlotte.”

Bea plasters a big smile onto her face. “We are driving,” she says. She pulls her lips back into a grimace, but there’s still a hint of excitement in her expression. “It’s a little over 9 hours and we’re leaving after the game. The boys are going to drive about three hours each and then Q and I will split it on the way back.”

Perhaps Honey and Bea don’t talk enough, or Honey doesn’t ask the right questions, because she had no idea that they’d be driving. Bea’s going to be exhausted on Tuesday when she gets back to work and for once, it won’t be because she was up too late in bed with her boyfriend. 

“That’s a long drive,” Honey says. “Are you going to be okay coming to work after that?”

Bea laughs. “Baby-Honey,” she says as if she can’t believe Honey’s concern. “I’ll be fine. Q and I planned the road trip perfectly. We’ll be back at, like, 7:30 on Monday. We’ll get a full night of sleep and everything.”

Honey wants to sass “Oh, you will?” because she knows that Bea and Quinn have never been very committed to a full night’s sleep, but she won’t say that in front of the ladies. Instead, she just nods and watches Luke switch places with Jack– he’d struck out yet again. 

“Oh! You girls might tell me,” Gillian says suddenly. “All Emma-Kate said was that her date was ‘good.’ She won’t say anything else! Where did they go? What did they do? Was Luke kind to her?”

“He is a sweetheart,” Bea tells Gillian. She sits up from Honey’s lap, turning to face the elderly woman. Her back is to the game now, but Honey is still watching. Earl has already made Luke turn bright pink and he swings and misses the first pitch.

“C’mon, Lukey, you’re better than that!” Honey calls, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice.

Luke glances her way, but doesn’t interact. 

“Stop heckling!” Jack shouts again, from the dugout this time. “Don’t make me come over there and eject you myself!”

Honey sticks her tongue out at Jack before returning to the conversation around her.

“...then they got ice cream at Sweet Scoop, duh, and they hung out at the rental house for a while. I think they watched a movie,” Bea tells Gillian.

Gillian quirks an eyebrow. “They hung out at the house? I know what you kids mean by that these days. My Emma-Kate is too young for that sort of thing.”

Honey titters, pressing a hand to her lips to cover her mouth. Emma-Kate has been in college for two years and even before that, when she would hang out with Honey and Bea while she visited Litchton in the summers, she was very interested in the romantic lives that the girls lived. She was enthralled with Bea’s ability to date guys casually and feel so confident in herself and she was captivated by the way Honey felt perfectly fine without male attention. Emma-Kate has been capable of making her own romantic and sexual decisions for a long time– at least, it feels that way. She’s 20 years old now, but she’s been asking questions since she was 15. Honey is pretty sure that Emma-Kate has ventured into that world by now.

“All we know is that they held hands after getting ice cream,” Honey tells Gillian. “I didn’t see him kiss her and Luke is a gentleman. He probably wasn’t doing all of that with Emma-Kate, especially not the first time he met her. They’re both smarter than that.”

“Okay, I wouldn’t say it’s about being smart,” Bea jumps in, turning her head and frowning at Honey.

Honey rolls her eyes. Of course Bea takes issue with her words, even though Honey has never insulted Bea’s intelligence. She’s a very smart girl. So what if she sleeps with people– Quinn– the first time she meets them? “This isn’t a slight at you,” Honey tells her. “I’m just saying that Emma-Kate and Luke probably didn’t rush into it.”

“Probably not,” Bea agrees. She looks at Gillian. “He might’ve kissed her goodnight when he dropped her off, but I wasn’t there, so I can’t tell you.”

Gillian continues chatting, as do the ladies around them, but Honey and Bea fix their attention on the softball game. Luke managed to hit a single, so he’s on the first base. Cole is on third. Quinn and Trevor are on the field this inning, but they’re due to switch soon. Trevor is in center field and Quinn is on first base, playfully blocking Luke from stealing 2nd base. Jessie’s husband Tyler strikes out, which is the final out of the inning, and then they switch.

Thus starts the sixth inning. They’ve been at the game for what feels like forever, since the morning. It takes time to choose the teams and the positions and, in the many years that they’ve been doing this, no one has made a move to make teams beforehand. Every year, the town swears they will and every year, they forget. It’s been long enough that Honey is starting to wish she was out there– she used to play softball, way back when. She could show these guys a thing or two.

“Actually, I have something I want to ask you ladies about,” Bea says suddenly, swiveling around to straddle the bench and face everyone. 

Honey turns to her, intrigued. She eventually turns all the way around so that she, Bea, and the ladies are forming a circle. Her back is to the game, but she can hear Earl chirping Trevor for his white crew socks, now riddled with dirt. 

“I’m not asking this because of anything,” Bea clarifies seriously. “So don’t go assuming and don’t go talking to anyone else about it.” She points a finger at each of the ladies, waiting for them to nod before she continues. “How long did it take for your husbands to say ‘I love you?’ Or did they even say it first? How did you feel about it?” 

Honey feels like her blood actually runs cold. Obviously, Bea is asking this because of the things that Quinn has been saying for a few weeks. After deciding the whole ‘I love you’ thing was a nonissue, Honey hadn’t even told Bea about her thoughts. 

But she knows now, because as soon as Bea finished asking that question, she made eye contact with Honey to come to a silent understanding about her question– which Honey understood the implications of without making eye contact with the girl. When Bea looked over, though, she caught the way Honey’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushed, and her body tensed up. It wasn’t a voluntary reaction, but Bea caught it nonetheless. Since she can read Honey as well as Honey can read Bea, she seems to immediately know what Honey’s reaction signifies.

Bea narrows her eyes at Honey and parts her lips as if to say something, but she snaps her mouth shut and furrows her brow even tighter for just a moment before turning back to the women, who have started talking.

“I don’t think I have a good answer for you, since Earl and I were married after two months of dating. He says he knew since the moment he saw me, but I don’t think we actually said we loved each other until the wedding. He just wanted to take care of me in case he died during the War,” Vera says with a laugh. “It was a very controversial relationship at the time. We were the talk of the town.”

“I remember that!” Rosalind says. “We all thought you were crazy for marrying him. I don’t care if you both grew up in Litchton, you were crazy for marrying a man so soon! Especially not that grump, he’s been the same since he came into this world.”

“He’s a man of few words, not a grump,” Vera corrects.

Honey stifles a smile, dipping her head and looking at her knees. Earl is a grump. Vera’s been using the same statement to defend him for fifty years.

“Did you say it back?” Bea asks.

Vera nods. “It was our wedding. I mean, I felt like I loved him after that first dance at Scruffy’s. God created us for each other and He decided to put me and Earl together at that exact moment. God chose Earl to walk alongside me and help me grow, and when you meet that person, you know. It’s not just fate, you know, it’s God’s grace.”

She means well and Honey knows that Bea can understand what she’s saying, even take it to heart. The problem is that Honey doesn’t believe in the power that Vera, Bea, and the other ladies do. Nothing brought Trevor to her– it all just happened. By chance, he came here. By chance, he ran into her at the fruit stand. She’s not sure why Trevor chose her– not when Bea is right there and so much easier to deal with than Honey is– but he did. And he continues to do so. 

Honey’s chest grows a little tighter. 

The ladies are nodding solemnly. Bea hums, but her eyes slide over to Honey. She’s always been really good about this– steering the conversation away from religion when Honey grows too uncomfortable. It reminds her of the past. 

She used to believe. She really did. Honey went to church with her parents and knew Bible stories, even verses. She would pray. All of that changed when the rest of her life turned upside-down. Before she came to Litchton, Honey felt like she was crying out into a void, with nothing but her own voice echoing back at her. Her calls for guidance went unanswered and the silence was suffocating… and Honey’s belief was completely shaken. 

In the first year, Bea tried to reassure Honey with the typical phrases: “God has a plan,” “Everything according to His will,” and so on. They’d gotten into a screaming match one night in Honey’s house, in the dead of winter, and Honey had finally broken. It’s one of her worst moments, one of those things that happen that you immediately regret. She doesn’t even remember what she said– something about how she told God she needed him and he was radio-silent, unwilling to take away her pain– but Honey remembers the look on Bea’s face and the way she’d dissolved into tears, hugging Honey and apologizing for the hurt, unable to let go. Bea always cries during a fight, and even when she has to confront someone in a calm setting, but that was different. Bea never tried to sway Honey about that again, and Honey has never tried to convince Bea that she’s right.

Honey wishes things were as simple as divine intervention. Maybe then, she’d be able to give Trevor all the things he wants without questioning herself. It’s just… more complicated than that.

“What about you all?” Bea asks, looking around. “You didn’t get married after two months. You didn’t know right away, did you?”

Scarlett laughs. “God, no. Sammy didn’t catch my eye until we’d grown up and gone to college and gotten our jobs back here. I’d known him my whole life, but I never thought for a second that I’d love him. Our dating was very casual, you know, because I had to see my options.”

Bea nods very seriously, which makes Honey want to laugh. Scarlett and Bea are two peas in a pod, just born in different generations.

“I think once we started going steady, I started to fall in love with him. He said it first, but it was about… golly, I can barely remember. Six months, maybe? We’d been together for a little while, and he was always slower than me and I sure as hell wasn’t going to say it first, so I think it was about six months. That was a good day,” Scarlett says. “And I did say it back to him, after he’d finally grown the balls to do so.”

“I think William told me he loved me around six months, too,” Sacha adds. “It wasn’t a big deal. We were talking on the phone after dinner one night because he was on a work trip in Philadelphia and I was in Charlotte still, working as a secretary, and he said it when we said goodbye. Casual as can be. I said it back and then I hung up and then I realized what happened and I called Vera– ‘cause she was the only married one of us at the time– and we talked about it all night long.”

“Oh, that was so fun,” Vera says. “I felt like we were gigglin’ at a sleepover and Ma was about to come in the room and tell us to be quiet, or else.”

“Ma loved that ‘or else,’” Rosalind laughs. “That’s what I had to say to Doug. We’d been datin’ for almost a year and he still hadn’t said it, so one day I put my fork down at dinner and I said, ‘Doug. Do you love me?’ and he said ‘Yes, ma’am,’ ‘cause you know Doug is all proper and respectful like that given how his mama was, and I said, ‘Well, you better say it more or else I’m leavin’ you for someone who will!’”

Honey laughs at the way Rosalind delivers the lines, looking out at the field and catching Doug’s position at shortstop. He’s one of their regular customers at The Reading Nook, now that he’s retired from his job as a dentist and found himself with too much time on his hands. He’s always reading James Patterson books. They keep having to order new ones so that he doesn’t run out or reread the same one twice. 

“And he’s said it every day since,” Rosalind finishes with a grandiose smile.

All eyes turn expectantly to Gillian. 

“I’m not retelling that story again for y’all to laugh at me,” Gillian complains. “You’ve beaten that thing like a dead horse.”

That is definitely not the saying, but Honey isn’t going to correct her.

“C’mon Gilly,” Vera says. “It’s not that bad. We only laugh because you’re still embarrassed over it.”

“What happened?” Bea asks, lips splitting into a smile. “Is it bad?”

“No,” Gillian replies. “It’s not bad. I just happened to say it first. And Art was asleep, so I got away with it. The girls will never let me live it down.”

“Because you packed up all your stuff and high-tailed it over to my apartment to hide from him!” Sacha laughs. “You came all the way to Charlotte just to escape three little words that your boyfriend didn’t hear you say.”

“But he could have,” Gillian argues. “And he would probably think I was crazy!”

That piques Honey’s interest. “Why would he think you’re crazy?” She asks.

Gillian sulks, snapping her mouth shut.

“They’d only been datin’ a month,” Scarlett reveals, patting Gillian’s back and rubbing it. “But it’s fine, because we all trip up and we all make mistakes and you’re still together to this day.”

“Because he didn’t hear me,” Gillian insists. “I’ve never been so lucky that construction tires that man out. His head hits the pillow and he’s done for the day. We hadn’t been dating long enough for me to know that. I was just going into his room to say goodnight– I was staying over because the kitchen in my apartment had caught fire in the middle of the night and I was scared it was going to happen again, I wasn’t sleeping in the same bed with him like you girls do nowadays– and I said, ‘See you tomorrow, Art. Sleep well. I love you,’ like some damn fool!”

“I’m surprised you didn’t wake him up with all that noise you made, running away,” Vera says. “But you’ve always been very lucky, so it’s alright.” She turns to Bea. “I know you said no assuming, so I’m just asking you a question.” She raises an eyebrow. “Is this about a certain young man who comes to church with you every Sunday?”

Bea smiles, then zips her lips, locks them, and throws away the key. 

The ladies cajole about it, saying that that’s not fair, they told their stories so Bea ought to too… but Honey is elsewhere. She chuckles to herself to save face and make sure the ladies don’t notice that she’s stuck in her own head. 

She watches Trevor on the field– they must be in the next inning by now, since he’s back in the center of the grass– and can’t seem to string anything together into a coherent thought. Her head is full of fuzz and fog, thoughts crowded so closely together that she can’t distinguish a single letter, word, picture, or idea. 

Bea bumps Honey’s shoulder. “You okay?” she asks quietly. 

“Yeah,” Honey answers. “I was… caught off guard by that.”

“Because…?” Bea trails off, her eyes flickering over to Trevor.

Honey shakes her head. “Nothing happened with him,” she says. “I don’t know.” She grows quieter, although Honey knows all of the ladies at least suspect that she and Trevor are an item. “Even if it did, he’s… he lives in California.”

Bea exhales at her words, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opens them again, she touches Honey’s knee. “Yeah. That’s about where I’m at, too.” There’s a pause, then her lips quirk into a smile. “With a few notable differences.”

Like the fact that he’s already said it, Honey thinks to herself, but she doesn’t say it out loud. She knows that’s what Bea is thinking. They continue to look out at Trevor, who’s standing in the field with his hands folded on top of his head, elbows pointed out from his body. He’s standing very casually. The other team is a group of high schoolers, middle-aged dads, and Jack and Luke. Trevor seems very assured that nothing will reach him.

The crack of the bat says otherwise. Trevor’s arms drop to his sides and he seems to wake up, looking skyward. Honey and Bea jerk their attention towards the space between first and home base, where Jack is running. He points at them as he passes, shouting, “See what happens when you’re not heckling?”

69:90 – TREVOR

There is a lawn mower running in Honey’s backyard. It wakes him up. Trevor knows it’s not Honey who’s driving it because he’s got his arm wrapped around her waist and his lips are smushed against the back of her shoulderblade. There’s a bit of drool pooling in the corner of his mouth, probably cooling against Honey’s skin, but Trevor can’t be bothered to move. Honey is warm against his front and he likes that they’re both naked in bed. 

“Who’s that,” Trevor questions, although the slurred and sleepy words fall flat when they leave his mouth.

“It’s Griff,” Honey replies. Her voice is as thick as Trevor’s and, to his dismay, she starts to shuffle out of his arms. “He told me he was coming today.”

“No,” Trevor drawls, elongating the word and rolling flat onto his stomach as he occupies the space where Honey was. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I have to go pay the guy, Trev. He doesn’t mow my grass or supply me with weed for free, I’m not Bea,” Honey says. She sits on the edge of the bed for a second, legs curved over the side of the mattress. She takes a big deep breath before she stands, like she’s bracing herself for the day.

Trevor cracks an eye open and watches Honey pull on those old boxers she loves, then a tiny white tank top that does nothing to hide her nipples. He moans into the pillow, annoyed that their day is apparently starting and that Honey is planning to go talk to a man in such scant clothing. If this guy is her weed dealer, he’ll probably look at her tits, too. “Put on your robe or something,” Trevor complains. “I don’t want this guy to see your tits.”

“Griffin doesn’t care about my tits, babe.” Honey scratches gently over Trevor’s back, soothing him with her nails. 

Trevor moans more softly this time, muffled against the pillow. He can feel his cock stir against the mattress, just from Honey’s touch. “Just come back quick, I wanna go back to sleep. Can I put my cock inside you while we sleep? You’re so warm.”

“Mmm… let me think about that. Probably not this morning,” Honey says. “Stay here while I talk to Griffin, okay?”

Trevor pushes himself up onto his elbows. “Wait, is this the same Griffin who’s the cop?”

“That’s the one!” Honey replies cheerfully. She leaves Trevor alone in the bed, traipsing down from the loft with quiet steps. 

Trevor buries his face back in the pillow, Honey’s pillow, and wraps his arms around it. It smells like her– all vanilla and laundry detergent. She washed her sheets on Thursday. She’s almost militant with her bedsheet schedule; she washes them on the 1st and the 15th of every month, normally. She’s had to wash them more often since Trevor has been around, given that her sheets usually get sweaty and wet when he’s around. 

Not that he’s bragging. It’s merely a fact. 

He dozes off while Honey is gone, only coming back to full consciousness once the bed dips and Honey tucks Trevor’s hair behind his ear. “I’m going to have to douse one of my shirts in perfume for you before you leave, aren’t I,” Honey teases softly. “I wasn’t even gone ten minutes and you’re holding onto my pillow for dear life, Trev.”

“Missed you,” Trevor sighs. He stretches, holding onto Honey’s pillow with one hand as he rolls onto his back and spreads his arms to the side. “Cuddle me.”

“So needy,” Honey laughs. She pulls the tank top over her head and tosses it to the foot of the bed, then discards her boxers. Trevor bites his lower lip as he takes her in, then Honey climbs back into bed and curls up into his arms. “What do you want to do today?”

“I want to go back to bed for now,” Trevor replies. The clock on Honey’s nightstand says that it’s not even 8:00. “We can sleep ‘til whenever, but I don’t want to leave this bed until, like, ten.” He kisses over Honey’s face, even as she giggles and tries to push him away. “And then we can do whatever you want.”

Honey groans. “Ugh, I don’t know if I can fall asleep again. Usually, once I’m up, I just get up.”

“Well, that’s okay, we can go make breakfast if you want,” Trevor offers.

“No,” Honey says, pressing her palm against Trevor’s bare chest. “No-no. We’ll take a little nap because it’s what you want to do, and then we’ll smoke a little bit because it’s what I want to do. Griffin brought the goods over this morning. The mowed lawn was just a perk.”

Trevor snuffles out a laugh. “Do you think it’s weird that you get drugs from a cop?”

Honey frowns. “No. Griffin can’t smoke it, and it’s not like they can burn it, and the old guys don’t know how to get rid of it. They just let Griff take care of it. It’s not like there’s a lot of weed running rampant in Litchton, so this is a luxury.” Honey puckers her lips and waits for Trevor to kiss her before continuing. “Plus, we have texts from him about selling the weed. So if he ever arrested us, we could literally prove that he was the dealer. He’d be caught up in it too.”

“You’re evil,” Trevor tells Honey, although he doesn’t mean it. “Blackmailing a cop.”

“We’re not blackmailing, it’s a mutual understanding,” Honey says with an eyeroll. “He’s a friend. Hey–”

“Hey,” Trevor interrupts, grinning stupidly when Honey cuts her eyes at him.

“–Speaking of friends, do you think Cole is going to be lonely without you at the house today?” 

“I think he’s okay,” Trevor says with a laugh. “When I left last night, he was in the hot tub with a beer. He’s probably doing just fine. He lives alone most of the time, so an empty house is probably very refreshing.”

“Hmm, I’ll believe you,” Honey decides. She narrows her eyes suspiciously at Trevor for a moment, then cuddles even closer to Trevor. She plants a kiss securely between his pecs, along his sternum– right over his heart– and rests her head there. She closes her eyes.

Trevor pulls her closer and falls back asleep.

The next time they wake, Honey’s head is tucked into Trevor’s neck and she’s laying with her leg over his hip. Her tits are pressed up against Trevor’s torso and, really, how can he be blamed for having half of a hard-on whenever she’s around? She’s making little noises against his neck. They’re not quite snores, but that’s the closest comparison. Her arms are wrapped tightly around his waist, preventing Trevor from going anywhere. Not that he would.

With a look at the clock, Trevor can see that it’s past 9:00. He reaches over to the nightstand and finds his phone, which he hasn’t opened since he got to Honey’s house last night. He’d actually turned it off– if Cole needed anything, he’d have to call 911 or one of the Hughes boys. As Trevor turns the phone back on, the messages start to roll in.

And they keep. Coming.

Message after message comes in. Trevor watches them appear, watches the tiny red bubble at the corner of his message app grow and grow. At first, he’s concerned that something happened. He waits for the messages to stop popping up, then enters the app to check the damage. 

His mind goes in a number of directions– something happened at home, something happened to his family, someone died, he got traded out of nowhere, he’s going to have to move to another city and cut his time in Litchton short…

Save for four texts, which are from his mom, Jamie, and Cole, every message is from Bea.

One hundred and twenty six messages.

All from Bea.

Trevor presses his lips together in a thin line, clicking on her messages and scrolling to the top.

As he reads through the barrage of messages, Trevor feels like he’s seeing red. Every message is from Bea’s stream of consciousness– he’d be fine if Bea had sent over a hundred messages about “oh the car broke down,” “we have a popped tire,” “i think we have to stop for a hotel because xyz happened”... but all of them… every single one… is a complaint, question, or thought about the car ride.

To name a few:

Jack won’t vacate the front seat :( I can’t even hold hands with Quinn so unfair

We’re on potty stop #3 and it’s only been 2 hours THIS IS SHIT

We r never going to make it to Mich

omg Luke just started driving and I think I am afraid for my life

Why does Jack skip every song on the playlist after like 1 min…

Trevor they are SO LOUD I can’t even fall asleep how do u deal with these fuckers

Also why aren’t you replying :( 

I know you’re with Honey, u guys should save me from this :((

Quinn fell asleep I’m bored

Ohio is the worst state in the world to drive thru

I don’t like the merge lanes

Ok now Jack is driving and NOW I’m scared for my life… if I don’t text you that we made it, assume that we didn’t.

ok we made it TTYL give Honey a kiss for me

Those are just a few. The rest of the messages are similar or the same– and Trevor knows that being on road trips with the Hughes brothers is hard, especially when it’s your first one and it’s nine hours long– but this is not what he wanted when he and Bea exchanged phone numbers.

“What are you reading?” Honey murmurs, lifting her head and craning her neck to see his phone. 

Trevor is doing his very best to stay calm, but he feels a lot like a pot of water that’s about to boil over. He knows that his reaction is irrational and over the top, but Bea sent him more than one hundred messages overnight. He thought he was getting traded. He thought someone died. He thought that he’d have to leave Litchton– leave Honey– to deal with whatever big news had overtaken his phone. Instead, he had gotten worked up and anxious about nothing. It was just Bea. Just Bea! 

Bea, who is Honey’s best friend but a constant thorn in Trevor’s side. He can’t deny that she’s a nice person, or a good friend, but she seems to derive some sick sense of pleasure from annoying him and it’s too much. He didn’t sign up for this. He doesn’t want to be Bea’s middleman. He doesn’t want to be the person she texts when she’s annoyed with the brothers, just because he’s known them his whole life. He doesn’t want to have to hand over his phone to her when Quinn is away so that they can call.

Trevor shoves the phone into Honey’s hands. “I know she’s your best friend, but I can’t fucking do this,” he tells Honey. He detangles himself from Honey’s grip and leaves the bed, finding his own boxers and a pair of sweatpants. “This shit can’t be happening. I don’t care enough about what Bea is thinking to tolerate a hundred and twenty-six messages about nothing of importance.”

Honey raises her eyebrows in surprise, holding Trevor’s phone delicately in her hand. She blinks at him, then brings the phone to eye level and begins to scroll. Her brows are pursed as she starts reading, but occasionally she’ll smile or laugh or roll her eyes in reaction to a text. 

Trevor just stands there, breathing hard and trying to hold onto his temper. The silence is awkward, and Trevor feels silly about his stance. Honey is laying comfortably on the bed, toying with her hair with one hand and moving through the texts with the other. The covers are sliding down her body and Trevor can nearly see one of her piercings, just a breeze or a shift away from being revealed, and that is doing nothing to aid his continued frustration. He is determined to hang onto this irritation, but it’s getting harder with each passing minute.

Finally, Honey removes the phone from her eyeline and looks at Trevor with an amused smile on her face. “Not liking my best friend is a dealbreaker, you know,” Honey says.

Trevor almost immediately deflates. “I like Bea just fine,” he groans, rolling his head back and running his hands through his hair. “I just hate it when she blows up my phone.”

“Baby, how often does she blow up your phone?” Honey asks, starting to laugh. “I’m sure she was only texting you because she wasn’t going to say these things out loud with all of the brothers in the car. She hates confrontation.”

“But I’m the only one with her number, so she only ever texts me, and she’s not shy about it because she doesn’t care if she’s annoying me,” Trevor explains, feeling childish even though it’s true. “And I hate it.”

“Why are you the only one with her number?” Honey scrunches her nose up in confusion. She sits up and reaches for her tank top at the foot of the bed. 

“You’ll have to ask her,” Trevor says. He’s momentarily distracted by Honey’s chest and the way her breasts move when she pulls the shirt on. “It’s stupid. Like, she won’t give her number to Quinn because then Jack will want it. If Jack wants it, Cole wants it. If all of them have it, then Luke feels left out. I was her middleman at the beginning of the summer, but like… it’s not like she has to organize hookups now.” His voice turns to a grumble and Trevor looks down at the ground, a little embarrassed by his complaint. “She could give her number to Quinn, at least. He could keep it a secret from Jack.”

“Quinn doesn’t have Bea’s phone number,” Honey repeats, her voice flat and full of doubt. She scoffs. “They’re dating.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Trevor says. He crosses back over to the bed and sits across from Honey, crossing his legs like he used to in kindergarten. 

Honey blinks at Trevor, thinking hard. She purses her lips. 

Trevor would pay buckets of money to know what she’s thinking right now. “I guess it’s not that big a deal,” he says after a minute. He leans over and presses a kiss to her lips, pretending like her pursed-thinking was an invitation.

She bats him away. Again, she picks up his phone and goes to unlock it, but she stops short at the wallpaper. 

Oh, yeah. He’d forgotten about that.

“When did you take this picture?” Honey asks, voice controlled and neutral. There’s no way to know which way this will go.

It’s an image of the trail where they did their first hike, after they’d gotten to the peak and she’d started to let down the guarded, exterior walls that kept her safe. It was the first day that she’d really told him about herself– that her favorite movie was 13 Going on 30 solely because of the scene where Billy Joel’s “Vienna” plays, that she’d gotten the job at The Reading Nook because Ada had known her since she was a kid exploring Litchton on her own, that she didn’t talk to her parents anymore and she left Charlotte because of “something that happened” (which Trevor now knows), and that she learned how to play pool from a bunch of the dads in town. In the picture, she’s a few yards ahead of him, surrounded by greenery. She’s standing on a tree branch, one they’d crossed to get over a ditch, and her hair is tied into a knot at the base of her neck.

“On our hike,” Trevor answers. “When Ada made you hang out with me because you were mean to me when Jamie left.”

Honey looks up at the ceiling and sighs. “Oh, Jamie. I miss that guy.”

Trevor goes to agree, but he remembers that Jamie kissed Honey before Trevor did, so he doesn’t. Instead, he narrows his eyes. “Do you?” He asks.

Honey pays him no mind, except for rolling her eyes and holding up her index finger to silence Trevor. She clicks around on the phone, then holds it up to her ear.

“What are you doing?” Trevor asks, leaning in so he can hear the phone ringing.

Honey shushes him and pushes him away. “Hi, Bumblebea,” Honey says sweetly. As she continues, her tone turns on its head. She snaps, “Stop texting my boyfriend. You’re getting on our nerves. You can text me all you want, but he’s tired of it.”

She continues on, ranting about how Bea is perfectly capable of giving Quinn her contact information, even if it means Jack, Cole, and Luke start texting her regularly. Trevor, though, doesn’t hear any of it. Honey called him her boyfriend.

He’s going to fuck her so good tonight.

Why wait ‘til tonight? He thinks.

Trevor touches Honey’s thigh, but she bats him away again and points a threatening finger in his direction. Even the glare on her face isn’t enough to deter him– he wants to be good, he does. He wants to be patient and put off the kissing and touching and fucking until she’s off the phone, but Honey said Trevor was her boyfriend and she has never said that before. 

He’s more insistent this time as he shuffles forward and fills the space between her neck and her shoulder with a messy kiss. His hands are on her waist and Honey leans back against the headboard, bringing her free hand to Trevor’s hair and yanks him away. 

She flashes him a warning glare and continues talking, telling Bea off through the receiver.

Trevor sits back on his heels, but he lasts all of a minute before his eyes drift to Honey’s naked bottom half. If he could just spread her legs a little bit, he could get right between them and… well, be a good boyfriend.

Honey closes her eyes and sighs, listening to something Bea is saying on the other end. Trevor seizes his opportunity, spreading her inner thighs enough to make room for his head. His thumb spreads her folds once and he nearly gets his tongue on her clit before Honey bops him on the head like a whack-a-mole.

“Ow!” Trevor exclaims, retreating and kneeling back on his heels like a scolded puppy. He holds the back of his head, wincing.

“Would you behave? I am on the phone!” Honey hisses. She sounds more like a mother being bothered by her child than a girlfriend receiving head from her boyfriend.

Trevor pouts, making his eyes nice and big as he continues to rub the back of his head. 

“No, I don’t know, Bea. He just tried to fucking eat me out while I’m on the phone with you,” Honey snaps, practically snarling into the phone. Her eyes don’t leave Trevor, keeping him in place.

Trevor is close enough that he can hear Bea’s laughter through the speaker. “Probably because you called him your boyfriend, silly,” Bea exclaims.

Honey’s eyes widen. “No, I didn’t,” she says, disbelief written all across her features. Trevor nods and leans in, but Honey places her hand on his chest and keeps him in place. 

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Is Trevor drooling all over you right now? More than normal?”

Trevor’s hands are on Honey’s thighs, palming the skin there and stroking it lightly with his thumb. He’s staring at her, eyes fixed on her pretty mouth. That’s the mouth that just confirmed that they’re boyfriend-girlfriend. Trevor thinks he might paint a picture of it and hang the picture up in his apartment back in California, so that he can look at her lips every day. He’s going to need something to look at if she’s still in Litchton during the season, but he might be able to convince her to visit once a month…

“Not– more than normal,” Honey replies, but her voice is a little shaky and high, like it is when she starts to lie. She’s bad at lying.

Trevor rolls his eyes and takes her free hand from his chest, bringing it to the back of his head. He pouts at her, patting her palm over the place where she smacked him. Honey’s fingers tighten in his locks like a reflex, scratching his scalp in a satisfying massage. Trevor sighs, then leans forward to kiss Honey’s neck again. Boyfriend. Girlfriend. He likes that.

“You definitely called him your boyfriend. Trevor can vouch, I wasn’t the only one who heard that. Ask him.”

“I did not call him that,” Honey insists. She glances to Trevor for confirmation.

He does not give her the answer she wants to hear. He’s too giddy with excitement, feeling like he could jump as high as the moon. His smile, and the kiss that he slathers onto her collarbone, are answer enough for Honey. 

Her hand drops and she ends the call, cutting Bea off in the middle of a sentence. It’s only a moment before the phone starts to buzz again, but they both ignore it. 

Trevor even tosses it across the room, not caring if the screen cracks and breaks. Honey is his girlfriend and he’s her boyfriend. Trevor kisses over her neck again, humming against her skin. He’s just about to say… something, although he’s not sure what, since his head is full of excitement and too overjoyed to properly think, but Honey speaks instead.

“Wait,” Honey says, her throat sounding tight. Her voice seems a little strangled. “Stop.”

Wait. Stop.

The joy falls to the back of Trevor’s mind immediately, and his thoughts flood with something else. Wait. Stop. He pulls away, really pulls away, and sits all the way on the foot of the bed. 

Honey pulls the blankets over herself and covers her face with her hands. She takes a deep breath and swallows hard, then scrubs her hands over her face. She continues to cover her mouth, but Trevor can see how her eyes are somehow dazed and moving with thoughts, like she can physically see everything going through her head, and she’s unable to focus on one thing.

Normally, Trevor is okay with handling Honey’s anxiety. She can calm down from a touch or a soft question, but… he doesn’t know what to say. Wait and stop, said in that choked voice, echo through his brain. Over and over. Wait. Stop.

Honey’s eyes finally fix on a point in front of her, slightly to Trevor’s right. She stares at one spot on the floor, near her dresser on the opposite wall. She takes a shaky breath, still covering her mouth with her hands, and closes her eyes. Her eyebrows draw together, creating that wrinkle that Trevor always wants to kiss away, and she shakes her head.

Trevor feels like there’s cement in his throat, drying quickly and unable to swallow. 

He doesn’t know how long they sit like that.

But it’s a long time.

“I don’t like that word,” Honey says quietly, after all that time has passed, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her hands leave her mouth and cross her chest, hugging herself. Trevor can see goosebumps on her arms. She turns her head and one shoulder moves upward, kind of like a shrug. “It’s… it’s what you are, but I don’t like that word.”

The edges of her lips turn down and Honey meets Trevor’s eyes. She steals a glance at his expression, then her gaze falls to his hands. They’re clasped in his lap. He’s squeezing his thumb to try and ground himself. She looks like a cornered animal, like one of those scared dogs in the shelter. 

Trevor just– he doesn’t know what to do.

The confirmation is there. She’s not denying what she said. Honey admits that Trevor is her boyfriend, but there’s no pleasure in hearing her say it this time. In saying it, she seems to lump him in the same category as him. The other one. The one who ruined everything.

“I’m never going to do that to you,” Trevor breathes. His voice grows a little louder. While Trevor was serious before, now his tone is grave. He continues, and it’s more than a promise or a swear– he’s pledging. “I will never try to hurt you. He and I, we’re not– we’re not the same. I might, y’know, be stupid and make you upset but I’d never– not on purpose. And nothing like that.”

Honey sniffs and nods. “I know,” she says. “I–” She cuts herself off and shakes her head, taking a deep breath to center herself. She raises her hands and wipes under her eyes, removing the line of moisture from her waterline. When she speaks again, Honey’s voice is much stronger. “I know you’re not him.” She presses her lips together.

Trevor waits for more, but nothing comes. Instead, Honey meets his eyes and she wells up again. Her frown turns into a pout and she holds out her arms.

Trevor collapses into them and falls back on the pillows, keeping her close to his chest. He kisses over her face, on all the teardrops that managed to escape. He’s so– so happy. His heart is bursting at the seams and he really wishes he could tell her how much he loves her, but that’s probably a bit much for her right now. Calling him her boyfriend and having to reply to a declaration of love? She’d start convulsing and breaking into sparks like a malfunctioning robot. But he does– he does. He’s relieved, and happy, and he’s holding Honey in his arms, and it’s okay.

Boyfriend and girlfriend. August 3rd might just be the best day of Trevor Zegras’ whole life. Honey is his– she said so.

After he’s done peppering her face with kisses, he holds her tight. He listens to her breath and strokes her hair, letting her take all the time she needs to process the change.

“You asked on Thursday if we could tell them,” Honey says eventually.

“Mhm,” Trevor hums, confirming that he remembers.

“I don’t, um.” Honey’s voice falls to nearly a whisper. “I don’t think I’m ready for everyone to know just yet.”

The only thing about her sentence that disappoints Trevor is the way Honey says it– like he’s going to be angry with her. God, he’s elated that they’re even together. If Honey isn’t ready to tell, then they don’t have to. Trevor can’t imagine telling her no, or fighting her on this, after she took such a big leap today. 

“That’s okay,” Trevor says. “We don’t have to tell them yet.”

“Just give me a couple of weeks,” Honey says. “I think I can–”

“No rush,” Trevor interrupts. He kisses the top of her head. “Take your time. Just don’t change your mind about today. I really, really want to be your boyfriend.”

Honey blushes and hides her face in his chest. “Fine,” she mumbles, voice muffled by his skin. “I’ll consider keeping you around.”

Trevor laughs and kisses her again. He really hopes she’s up for that Very Good Fucking he’s planning to give her tonight, maybe after a romantic dinner that he cooks just for her. Plans for the day be damned– all Trevor wants is to be with his beautiful, thoughtful, brave, sexy girlfriend, no matter what they do.

70:90 – HONEY

“No, put your hands on my boobs,” Cole commands with a huff, grabbing Honey’s wrists and pulling her into place. “This is supposed to be weird, Honey. I want you to touch my tits.”

Honey bites down on her lower lip to stifle a laugh. She presses her face between his shoulderblades. 

This morning, Cole had gifted her a pink shirt with a unicorn and a rainbow on the front, then produced a matching one for himself. Since then, they’ve been taking pictures in the shirts. Honey knew she should’ve been more suspicious when Trevor texted that Cole was asking for Honey to bring her polaroid over. 

“Why are you laughing?” Cole demands, whining a bit. “The picture is supposed to be serious.”

It’s a version of a prom pose, but Honey is standing behind Cole. As per Cole’s request, her hands are on his pecs. His hands are on top of hers, keeping them in place. They’re standing sideways, so that Trevor can capture an over-the-shoulder gaze from the pair. He’s sitting on the couch, so the angle is low and looks up at them, making them seem taller.

“You are so strange,” Honey tells him. 

“Smile for the camera,” Cole replies pointedly. “No teeth.” He straightens his spine and rolls his shoulders back, smiling so that his dimple deepens. 

“Yeah, c’mon Honey, give us a smile,” Trevor quips from behind the camera. 

She plasters on a fake smile, but her glare is still deadly. 

Trevor snaps the picture anyway. 

Cole snatches the developing polaroid from Trevor, bouncing with excitement. “Hey, this is nice,” Cole says once the picture is clear enough. He hands the photo over to Honey and grins. “What do you think?”

She has to stifle a laugh again. Trevor managed to capture a moment that is steeped in absurdity. Cole stands tall, smiling thoughtfully. He’s proud, eyes glinting. His stance is secure, as is his grasp on Honey’s hands.

Honey, by contrast, is clearly not in the mood. Her lips are pressed together in a tolerant line, although her gaze is annoyed. She looks like she’s just putting up with Cole– to be fair, they’ve been doing these poses for the better part of an hour, and this is one of the saner ones. They did the Titanic pose (Honey was Jack), one where Cole lifted Honey onto his shoulder and knelt down on one knee, then another where Honey was perched on Cole’s knee, a back-to-back smoulder, one where Honey had to dip Cole like they were ballroom dancing, and a number of others. She’s probably almost out of film.

“I like the pictures, Co, but can we stop doing this?” Honey asks. “I’m not, like, a huge photo person.”

“Okay,” Cole agrees easily. He gestures toward the stack of photos in front of Trevor. “Choose your favorites. You can keep them.” He wiggles his eyebrows and pretends to wipe tears from his eyes, continuing in a fake-weak voice. “To remember me by.” He recovers quickly and claps Honey on the shoudler. “I’ll take the rest. I’m going to go take a dump.”

As he walks toward the stairs, Honey turns to Trevor and makes a face. “He’s so–”

“We like to say that he’s expressive,” Trevor interrupts with a smile. “He’s very good at overexaggerating his feelings for comedy.”

Honey laughs. “That’s– yeah, that’s actually a good way of saying it.”

Trevor reaches forward and picks a photo out of the pile. It’s the one of them standing back-to-back, giving intimidating glares to the camera. Their lips are puckered “like they’re in Zoolander,” as per Cole’s instructions. “I think this one is my favorite,” Trevor says. He hands the picture to Honey. “You should keep it.”

Honey takes the picture and studies it. Her eyes flicker up to Trevor, who is unabashedly watching her. “Oh my God,” she groans when she catches him, rolling her eyes and dropping her arms to her sides. She’s trying to sound serious, but there’s a smile trying to fight onto her face. “Stop.”

“Sorry,” Trevor apologizes, shit-eating grin on his face. “Can’t help it.”

“Fix your face,” Honey tells him, still trying to prevent herself from laughing. He’s positively helpless when it comes to Honey. He’s been staring at her every chance he gets since yesterday, when she’d accidentally called him her boyfriend. 

“Cole’s going to be in the bathroom for ages,” Trevor says, reaching out and looping his fingers through Honey’s belt loops. “He’s taking a shit, it’ll be a while. C’mere.” He pulls Honey onto his lap and kisses her, sliding his tongue into her mouth and making a soft noise of content.

Honey returns the kiss, shifting on Trevor’s lap so that her knees bracket his thighs. She brings her hands up to cradle his jaw, thumbs caressing his cheeks gently. When she pulls away, she complains, “You guys always tell me things that I do not need to know. Cole’s bathroom habits are one of those things.”

“Do you want to know about my bathroom habits?” Trevor asks, knowing that it’s going to bother her based on the way he’s chuckling.

“No,” Honey decides, squishing Trevor’s cheeks between her hands. “I am very against learning your bathroom habits. In fact, I would prefer to be blissfully unaware of all of your trips to the toilet.” Honey smiles and pecks Trevor’s lips. “This should be our last conversation about it until there’s, like, a medical emergency.”

Trevor laughs and leans up to peck Honey’s lips in return. “Okay, baby. Whatever you want.”

They kiss again, and Trevor pushes his hips up against Honey’s core. It makes her giggle against his mouth– he’s not satisfied after the previous evening? He didn’t get his fill after drawing five orgasms from Honey throughout the night, using everything he could to bring her over the edge? Honey couldn’t even walk by the end of the night, and her legs were a little bit sore this morning. She’d stretched after getting out of bed, trying to regain total control of her limbs. 

When Trevor pulls away, his head falls back onto the couch cushions. He admires Honey, pure content on his face. His hands slide to her behind, fingers sliding into the back pockets of her jean shorts and staying there.

Honey smooths his hair out of his face and returns his smile. Her eyes are hooded and she tilts her head to the side as she looks at him. As much as she hates the word, there’s still a thrill that runs up her spine when she remembers that Trevor is her boyfriend and how delighted he was when she’d stood by what she said.

“Can I take a picture of you?” Trevor asks sweetly, blinking up at Honey. “You look so pretty.” He reaches up and touches a bruise at the base of her neck, which she’d explained away to Cole in a terrible, stammering ramble. Luckily, he’d bought it. “Especially with this,” Trevor adds.

Honey tenses slightly, shrugging her shoulder and displacing Trevor’s hand. “I don’t know,” she says. “That’s kind of… y’know.”

She doesn’t really have the words to explain it, but Trevor’s request sends a shiver up her spine, the same way she shivers whenever she thinks about the misuse of her image in the past. She tries not to remember how it felt to have her photos, and videos that she and Thomas took, spread throughout the community that surrounded her. Trevor’s community is much larger than that, given that he’s famous, and all. Maybe without the hickey, she’d let him. I mean, it’s small… and from this angle, you can’t really see it. She could. Honey is trying not to let all of her fear consume her because, really, Trevor isn’t like Thomas.

Trevor doesn’t let her hesitation bother him. “That’s okay,” he says, bringing his hand further to touch her cheek. “I don’t mind. I’ll just take a picture of you in my mind, if that’s okay.” He pinches her behind, nonverbally telling her that he’s teasing. Trevor even winks.

Honey laughs. “It’s not that I don’t want you to,” she tells him, bringing her arms to his shoulders and twining them around his neck. She plays with her fingers behind his head, pinching the skin as she tries to explain herself. “I like that you want to take pictures of me because you think I’m pretty, but there is the whole ‘Thomas’ element.”

Trevor nods along, understanding as always. 

“I’ll let you take a picture if you pinky-promise to burn it when we break up,” Honey decides, pulling a hand back and sticking her littlest finger out.

Trevor’s jaw drops. “When we break up?” he scoffs. “What are you planning? I’m not pinky-promising you until you take that back.”

“Oh my God,” Honey laughs, rolling her eyes and turning her head to the side. She sticks her tongue into her cheek and looks back at Trevor. “If we break up,” she amends, overexaggerating the opening word. 

“I still don’t like it, but that’s better than ‘when,’” Trevor teases, finding Honey’s pinky and looping his own around it. He kisses the intertwined fingers and then puckers his lips for her to meet, only briefly. “I promise to burn the picture in the very unlikely event that you break up with me. Because I…” He holds up a finger before Honey can interject. “Do not have any plans to break up with you for the rest of our lives.”

Honey laughs again. “Would it kill you to be subtle?”

“Uh, yeah,” Trevor jeers. “I’ve got the world’s best girlfriend, I’ve got to make sure she knows how I feel about her.” He sticks his tongue out at Honey and grins, kissing her again.

“I hate you,” Honey tells him between kisses.

“Oh, I bet,” Trevor replies, voice dripping with sarcasm. He takes hold of the camera at his side. “Gimme a big smile, baby.”

Refusing to give him what he really wants, just to reinforce that Honey does in fact “hate” Trevor (probably one of the bigger lies she’s told him, if she’s being realistic), Honey looks down at him with the tiniest quirk of her lips. She’s certain that her eyes are not nearly as unimpressed and menacing as she wants them to be, rather, tinged with the affection that she can’t hold back for the boy. Her lips curl further into an amused, knowing smile and her cheeks flush, almost aching with soreness from how often she’s been laughing and grinning when Trevor is around. 

Trevor takes a minute to snap the picture and Honey is pretty sure she knows why. He wants to get it just right, so that he can remember this moment exactly as it is. Her look, and this picture, is the kind of thing that is worth the suspension of time, to him. He’s so… good to Honey. There’s a connection between them that can’t be defined. It’s quiet and persistent and irresistible, no matter how hard Honey tried in the beginning of the summer. She’s fallen for him harder than she thought she would for any person, given her history. And he– well, he’s not ashamed about telling her how much he feels for her.

“I’m going to put this in my wallet,” Trevor announces once the polaroid has printed, flapping it in the air and blowing on the image.

Honey catches his hand. “Don’t do that,” she complains. “This is a modern polaroid camera, not an old one. It’ll develop just fine without waving the picture around.”

“But it’s more fun this way,” Trevor replies.

“But you might ruin the picture this way, and you’re not carrying a warped picture of me around in your wallet,” Honey insists, wrenching the photo from Trevor’s grip and setting it down on the table in front of them. 

“Let’s do one of us kissing.” Trevor changes the subject, lighting up at the idea. He wiggles his eyebrows. “I’ll keep that one in my nightstand.”

Honey draws her eyebrows together in faux-offense. “Right next to the lotion and the tissues? I don’t think so.”

Trevor heaves out a sigh. “Fine, I’ll just have to rely on my memory.” He drops the act immediately and starts to smile again, pulling Honey forward at the waist and catching her lips. 

They kiss for all of one second before Cole starts to bound down the basement steps again and Honey has to scramble to the side, smoothing a hand through her hair. She makes herself comfortable on the couch and kicks her feet up, while Trevor grabs the remote and turns on the television.

“Oh, sick, what should we watch?” Cole asks, rounding the couch and stepping over Honey’s legs so that he can plop down between the pair. He ruffles Trevor’s hair with his right hand, then extends his arms over the back of the couch behind both Honey and Trevor. He makes himself right at home and seems none the wiser that Honey was just on Trevor’s lap, lips locked and tongues meeting. “I just started watching Arrested Development again. You good with that, Hon?”

“Mhm,” Honey agrees, covering her lips with her thumb and staring at the TV.

“Cool.” Cole wrestles the remote from Trevor’s hand. “Gimme that,” he says, just before wrenching it away and navigating through the pop-up keyboard on the screen. He leans forward, squinting at the TV and choosing letters carefully.

Honey sneaks a peek at Trevor and finds him already looking. He winks and she has to hold back a giggle, knowing that Cole will press her for more information if she starts to laugh. She looks back at the screen and pinches at her bottom lip, still feeling the phantom touch of Trevor’s mouth. He’ll probably be a gentleman and walk her to the door when she leaves, although Cole might try to join them. If they’re alone, Honey will be sure to steal another kiss to tide her over until the next time they see each other.

[ravelqueen]

Because of one person asking POPULAR DEMAND: Metaphor Re:Fantazio a/b/o thoughts, to wit:

What if the alpha/omega thing is the super special Elda tribe trait but nobody knows about it anymore.

Used to be it was common knowledge, but since omegas almost only ever conceive during heat and only go into heat if they feel safe, the constant stress of being hunted as an "inferior race" got the population down, which in turn led to Elda leaving broader society behind to survive, so now it is more folklore to most other tribes. However, it DOES still survive as part of the stereotype attached to the Elda that now extends to them also being promiscuous/sexually perverse/too seductive/only good for sex.

So the insults that Will gets have a bit more of "get away from my husband you wicked harlot" or "well the army will sure find a use for an Elda" on top of the standard stuff - only since nobody actually knows shit about Elda/genotypes it's pretty inaccurate all around so it bothers him almost less than some other insults, because it's kind of funny? Like of course he's not "always wet and ready", how would that even work? "You in heat?" Clearly them asking means they don't know the first thing about a heat, because you're def able to tell.

He'd sometimes like to just at least correct the wrong assumptions people make about how this all works but the elders in the village were VERY CLEAR that people's ignorance around their nature is the best protection they could get - no way to abuse a heat-addled omega if you don't know the signs of pre-heat, no controlling a bunch of alphas through stressing out an omega enough that they'd do whatever it takes to not have to smell the terrible sour scent in the air.

In a way he feels almost safer after a while than he did at home sometimes, at least on that level, because other tribes have no scent glands so no matter how overtly threatening someone might behave towards him, at least he doesn't have to deal with someone trying to overwhelm his resistance through aggressive alpha pheromone bullshit. It's especially relaxing when he realises that none of these other people seem to be able to smell him either - he doesn't have the most distinctive scent, but there is definitely no way he could have enjoyed Barton working shirtless the way he did without stupid comments.

And that was fine at the when he left his village - he only thought about helping the prince and sure it was going to be hard in the outside world - especially with the elders INSISTING that he definitely can't fuck a non-Elda - but he wasn't a slave to his instincts just because he's an omega, he was going to fine. The mission was going to be a few weeks at most.

Only then he suddenly decides to go on the campaign trail and oh it's a lot harder than he thought. And turns out that "don't get involved with other tribes, don't tell them anything about what it means to be an omega, definitely don't sleep with them, don't ask why doesn't matter" isn't as easy an advice to follow when you are on the third month of being surrounded by distressingly hot non-Elda, who have also provided you a place that feels safe and home and smells like them (even though none of the others actually have scent glands, Will can still sort of get their natural scent and ohhh it is so nice, it smells like family, it smells like pack)

And yeah he doesn't want to mess with his new comrades dynamic too much (doesn't want to explain what he is, now that he's heard how the outside thinks of them, what they are taught an omega is) but there are others he meets, on the road and so many of them are big and buff and often protective, and he's not supposed to sleep with them, but there are no other Elda around to take off the edge, to keep him balanced.

On top of that there is Strohl who doesn't smell like an alpha, doesn't smell like anything really aside from clean sweat and clemar and burnt orange and the sword oil he uses a lot, who has especially decided to be buff and protective and affectionate and it's driving Will to DISTRACTION.

The THING IS Strohl has been really trying his very best at Checking His Privilege - not just around Will, but clearly the MOST around him. He especially gets angry at all these people insinuating that Will is easy or that he could control people through sex - it's ridiculous and demeaning and terrible of them (and just because Will could ask him anything with those big eyes and he'd do it, no questions asked, obviously is just because he's - they - HE'S NOT GOING TO THINK ABOUT IT). Who insists that it an absolute OUTRAGE that they would look at Will and think he'd into getting dragged down a dirty alley and get fucked hard (Will who has been trying not to imagine Strohl doing that "[strangled] yeah terrible")

Only when Strohl does these things - physically puts himself between Will and someone who tries to grope him in a bar, gets so offended, defends Will's honour - Will knows it's not what he thinks, he knows Strohl just cannot abide by injustice, maybe - best case - he just really likes Will, but to him it reads so much like courting that he can't help get his wires crossed sometimes. But the elders were very clear and he is terrified of messing things up with the really good thing he's got going right now, so he sort of resigns himself for a while to just being very horny for a while

And the nice thing is at least he gets to be horny without anyone the wiser, because while yes throwing his pheromones around the way he's been doing would be seen as extremely rude in his village, it's not like anyone around him can smell it and be influenced by it, so while it's uncomfortable, he's going to survive and it's just a him-problem in the end.

Only turns out that while other tribes don't have noses as sensitive/receptors capable of interpreting subtle shifts the way the Elda can, the elders were wrong in that omega pheromones don't affect them at all - which Will realises after he breaks and hooks up with Batlin after the exhibition at which point he apparently induced a sort of mini rut in someone who is really not equipped for it (he passes out after the third round).

So maybe everyone's dazed looks weren't just because of the sometimes oppressive heat in the gauntlet runner and maybe Strohl isn't feeling faint just because of sea sickness after all.

Well, shit.

[candyskiez]

jon was the last human being elias ever saw. the last human being he ever talked to. the last human being he ever touched. hes been inside the heads of everyone in the world but jon was the last person he ever saw. and maybe the only person he ever truly saw. anyway hi how are you

Saros I need you to understand I made a Noise at this ask that made my cat run over to check on me. Which i think is maybe a little predictable of me.

I am also thinking about this in the context of how Jonah said that realizing his own selfishness was an awful thing to know, but also incredibly freeing. Thinking about how he again said Jons attempt, that was completely unsuccessful!!!, was nice! It was freeing! He enjoyed it!! Thinks about how Jonahs fear was of losing control, of his chance of survival and safety being taken away. He enjoys being known! He enjoys being understood by someone he thinks deserves it. He likes the idea of being known, of someone realizing that yes, he is a bad person, and seeing beauty in it. He likes the idea of it.

Thinks about how he viewed Jon as...not a companion, but as his in some way. Thinks about how he is completely sure that he understands Jon. Thinks about the way he knows about all of Jons deepest traumas and insecurities, knows exactly what to say to hurt him. Thinks about "I knew it had to be you." Thinks about, again "the freedom of it all." The freedom of it all!

Thinks about how Jonahs response to Jon saying he failed was just "Have i?" Thinks about how Jon tells him he's going to end the world and kill everyone and starving all the fears to death, he just says "That WE serve." Jon just told him he's going to undo everything he ever worked for but he refuses to let Jon think, for even a second, that they aren't the same. Because whether Jon likes it or not, Jonah is maybe the only person at the time who could possibly understand why Jon is doing this. Who could possibly understand every single reason. He already knows why Jon is doing this. He already knows everything that's led up to this point. And if jons going to do it, he knows he can't stop him. That's what scares him. But he won't let Jon pretend.

Thinks about how this is the first and last time we hear Jonah be afraid. Thinks about how Jonah is scared shitless, begging for his life against the person he happily destroyed the life of, and he knows he's fucked! But he doesn't want to die! And he sees the anger and fear and desperation and want of a man he ruined, of a man he made into something he views as beautiful, and it's the last thing he sees!!! Do you think he thought it was beautiful. Do you think he saw himself. Do you think in that moment he thinks, maybe he loves this man. Do you ever think about the fear and then acceptance, that he can't run forever. He's done. There's nothing he ever could've done. But he made something incredible, and nobody will ever be able to ignore the horrible, wonderful mark he left on the world. His last words were wishing him good luck! It's insane! Not "you're no better than me" or calling him a monster or anything. Just. Good luck. Good luck. It's insane. What the hell. I need to analyze it. What do you MEAN good luck.

Jon is the one person he could truly view as anything close to Part of what he was doing or what he wanted, and it didn't save Jon. It actively ruined his life. Do you think Jon saw Jonah gazing up at him with affection mixed in with horror as he died. Do you think it haunts him if/when he escapes somewhere else. I think it haunts him. I think he never manages to forget it. I think sometimes he looks at himself and understands why Jonah was so fond of him. I think that scares him more than he'll ever be able to explain. I think it's the one thing he'll never tell anyone he'll meet. I think Jonah ended with Jon, and Jon carried him with him for the rest of his life, and he wishes he didn't. I think Jonah would like that. I think Jon knows that, and he hates that too. (I think Jon wonders, would Jonah have even remembered him? If the roles had been reversed?) (I think he knows the answer.)

Anyways my days been great how's yours.

[illumist]

Illumi needled himself. I cannot prove it but i know.

[moeblob]

In all honesty I can imagine Karen writing up a contract in her spare time at work and making Brent sign it so that he's "legally only allowed to inspire her in sessions". Brent signs it without hesitation because why not! Legally binding himself to inspire Karen is fair and within her rights!

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

Opinions on Dream? :^

SO many feelings about him omgg rant under cut please forgive me

okay so i don't really talk or draw him much cause honestly,,,most of the times i just think he's a bit....boring? or more accurately plain? not in a mean way either but just in a 'fades into the background' type of way like don't get me wrong!! he's a really nice friend to his peers, his feelings about his powers and aura making his relationships harder to navigate and trust along with his whole conflict with nightmare and morality about what's good and bad IS very cool!! and i love it whenever they write him to be complex and not on this black and white mentality or when he's just straight up following along his friends with no free will or with a dubious purpose without ever addressing his issues or feelings! it's just unsatisfying to me :')

or when they're making him the 'naive' and oblivious, (sometimes childish?) character being marked as the obstacle and villain along with the other star sanses from the fic's pov, always talking about doing good things while fighting his brother and not hearing him out about the balance, (and for weak reasons most of the time. like it's been so long and you STILL haven't sat down with him when he's, generally, basically begged you to just have a talk? guys please :'( ) or when they go for the victim sad dream always missing the old nightmare, where corrupted nightmare is the incarnation of evil, with no sympathy or emotion except anger and sadistic glee, killing and hurting everyone and dream's just trying to protect the multiverse and dream's always been in the right. such extremes!!!

LIKE!! i hope i'm not the only one that thinks a 500+ year old should have had enough time to idk. learn things? about people and manipulation and deceit? after knowing what the villagers did to night? about the bad things in the world and how there's a lot of grey areas in life and that he maybe reflected on his past enough to process and ask himself if there should to be a convo to settle his differences with nightmare (and you can make nightmare the stubborn one too! or have them BOTH be petty and imperfect and have some things wrong and some right at the same time like why do i always see the good guy vs bad guy cliché with these two when they're the perfect example of why positivity doesn't have meaning without the negativity!! as long as there's a satisfying evolution or growth that doesn't leave me empty i'm good yknow?)

plus i believe dream really isn't as dumb as people view him. i do get some of you saying he probably can't read or write since that's actually a pretty interesting idea to explore! but in general please let him have emotions other than pure sunshiny happiness or endless sadness like he's gotta have more depth than that! let him make mistakes, have flaws that don't just make him the bad guy that's always in the wrong by default, and be angry or suspicious or jealous or bitter or battling his mental health problems/depression or malicious or smart or witty or mischievous and silly or sarcastic or ANYTHING dude i just want him to be put into different scenarios where he can be serious or lighthearted like it doesn't even have to be long or perfect but make him feel real.

it could definitely be that i don't read or see much art about dream or really look for it hard enough but also i just. i feel bad for even saying this fr and i wanna be honest about why i don't enjoy most stories about him cause he always gets the worst treatment along with ink!!! especially ink omg the poor guy has it the worst i think like wow do they mess him up :'(

always one dimensional in non shippy fics, or too plain or easily replaceable by other, more entertaining people in the significant other's life in most of his ships like man. i have read fics out there that made me genuinely FEEL and root for him and love his character so much it restored all hope for me!!! but i can only name one on top of my head and the others? it's been so long i don't even remember their names i just legit feel terrible cause i love him still and i can't find many headcanons that fit my interpretation of him yknow?

not to say people who write him very happy, mislead or sad are ruining him like that's silly- if i see something i don't like i just. move on bro i wouldn't force people to feel or think the same way i do about him cause anyone can have whatever headcanons they want!!! just talking about what i personally look for in him and why i can't exactly find it since most of the stuff out there just isn't my cup of tea :')

hopefully i didn't set anyone off with this rambling opinionated essay i just pulled hhh xD i know i know he's a popular character and i know a lot of people like dream so *sobs* please please recommend me artists and fics about him that you think is good it's been so looong since i've read or seen anything new that makes me attached to this little guy aughg<33333

[weaselle]

i want to talk about real life villains

Not someone who mugs you, or kills someone while driving drunk, those are just criminals. I mean VILLAINS.

Not like trump or musk, who are... cartoonishly evil. And not sexy villains, not grandiose villains, not even satisfyingly two dimensional villains it is easy to hate unconditionally. The real villains.

I had a client who was a retired executive for one of the big oil companies, i think it was Shell or Chevron. Had a home just outside of San Francisco that was wall to wall floor to ceiling full of expensive art. Literally. I once accidentally knocked a painting off the wall because it was hanging at knee height at the corner of the stairs, and it had a little brass plaque on it, and i looked up the name of the artist and it was Monet's apprentice and son-in-law, who was apparently also a famous painter. He had an original Andy Warhol, which should have been a prize piece for anyone to showcase -- it was hanging in the bathroom. I swear to god this guy was using a Chihuly (famous glass sculptor) as a fruit bowl. And he was like, "idk my wife was the one who liked art"

I was intrigued by this guy, because in the circles i run this dude is The Enemy. right? Wealthy oil executive? But as my client, he was... like a sweet grandpa. A poor widower, a nice old man, anyone who knew him would have called him a sweetheart. He had a slightly bewildered air, a sort of gentle bumbling nature.

And the fact that he was both of these things, a Sweet Little Old Man and The Enemy, at the same time, seemed important and fascinating to me.

He reminded me of some antagonist from fiction, but i couldn't put my finger on who. And when i did it all made sense.

John Hammond.

probably one of the most realistic bad guys ever written.

If you've only ever seen the movie, this will need some explaining.

Michael Crichton wrote Jurassic Park in 1990, and i read it shortly thereafter. In the movie, the dinosaurs are the antagonists, which imo erases 50% of the point of the story.

book spoilers below.

In the book, John Hammond is the villain but it takes the reader like half the book to figure that out. Just like my client, John is a sweet old man who wants lovely things for people. He's a very sympathetic character. But as the book progresses, you start to see something about him.

He has an idea, and he's sure it's a good one. When someone else dies in pursuit of his dream, he doesn't think anything of it. When other people turn out to care about that, he brings in experts to evaluate the safety of his idea, and when they quickly tell him his idea is dangerous and needs to be put on hold, he ignores his own experts that he himself hired, because they are telling him that he is wrong, and he is sure he is right.

In his mind, he's a visionary, and nobody understands his vision. He is surrounded by naysayers. Several things have proven too difficult to do the best and safest way, so he has cut corners and taken shortcuts so he can keep moving forward with his plans, but he's sure it's fine. He refuses to hear any word of caution, because he believes he is being cautious enough, and he knows best, even though he has no background in any of the sciences or professions involved. He sends his own grandchildren out into a life-threatening situation because he is willfully ignorant of the danger he is creating.

THIS is like the real villains of the world. He doesn't want anyone to die. Far from it, he only wants good things for people! He's a sweet old man who loves his grandchildren. But he has money and power and refuses to hear that what he is doing is dangerous for everyone, even his own family.

I think he's possibly one of the most important villains ever written in popular fiction.

In the book, he is killed by a pack of the smallest, cutest, "least dangerous" dinosaurs, because a big part of why we read fiction is to see the villains face thematic justice. But like a cigarette CEO dying of lung cancer, his death does not stop his creation from spreading out into the world to continue to endanger everyone else.

I think it is really important to see and understand this kind of villainy in fiction, so you can recognize it in real life.

Sweetheart of a grandfather. Wanted the best for everyone. Right up until what was best for everyone inconvenienced the pursuit of his own interests.

And my client was like that too. His wife had died, and his dog was now the love of his life, and she was this little old dog with silky hair in a hair cut that left long wispy bits on her lower legs. Certain plant materials were easily entangled in this hair and impossible to get out without pulling her hair which clearly hurt her. When i suggested he ask his groomer to trim her lower leg hair short to avoid this, he refused, saying he really liked her usual hair cut.

I emphasized that she was in pain after every walk due to the plant debris getting caught in her leg hair, and a simple trim could put an end to her daily painful removal of it, and he just frowned like i'd recommended he take a bath in pig shit and said "But she'll be ugly" and refused to talk about it anymore.

Sweet old man though. Everyone loved him.

[all4yoi]

𝒩ot a bet﹕hyung line

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw: each member ranges from 5-1k wc, fluff, lowercase intended, they swear, crying, uh someone kneels, not proud w heejake's 😞, not proofread ( lmk if i missed something! )

sypnosis : upon learning that you were merely the stake in a bet, they wasted no time in mending your relationship.

part one !

★ LEE HEESEUNG ( 0.8k wc )

"y/n wait!"

heeseung's voice only made you walk faster. you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by stopping and talking to him. all you wanted to do now was to just march out of the school, go home, lock yourself in your room and maybe eat a tub of ice cream while you ugly cry yourself to sleep.

"y/n, please." heeseung pleaded, taking your elbow in his grasp as he spun you around and pulling you closer to the point you can feel his breath on fanning your nose.

he looked at you pleadingly. "it's okay," you managed to say in a shaky voice. "i understand, you can all laugh at me all you want now-" he shook his head, "it's okay really!" you added, pursing your lips.

"i just want to be left alone now okay?" and even if he knew you didn't mean just 'now.' he'll respect your wishes and let you go, but he won't give up.

heeseung watched you walk away from him with a heavy heart, wanting nothing but to just explain everything to you before it was too late. he couldn't lose you, not like this.

when he couldn't see your figure anymore, he messily messed his hair and made his way back to the gym eager to teach a guy how to not spit nonsense.

it's been a week since that happened and a week since he's seen you in the school. he asked some of your classmates and club members but all he received were nasty glares and short cold answers. what happened between the two of you spread like wild fire the following day you walked away from him. everyone knew you were kind of a nerd, but they also knew you were a complete angel and had a heart soft as a pillow.

they also knew that betting on a person's feeling isn't exactly it. — more under the cut!

so throughout that week too, his popularity decreased day by day. he used to receive heart eyes on the hallways and joyful 'good morning, heeseung!'s by random students, now all he received were judgemental glances and they avoided him like a plague, scared to be the next target of a cruel bet.

he didn't care though, all he cared about was your wellbeing. it's been a week and you've still yet to show up to class, so imagine his surprise when you suddenly walk in to the room with your usual hair do, your bag slung over on your shoulder and your glasses almost falling off your nose bridge.

he sat up straighter, gulping as his eyes followed your every move. he could feel hear heart beating louder, as if it was calling for you, desperate to be near you again.

he needed to fix this, asap.

it felt like forever before heeseung heard the bell ring. as soon as he heard the annoying sound, he messily packed up his things and ran after you.

"y/n!" your forearm was then again grabbed by him. although this time, he turned you slowly. heeseung silently admired your face. he missed you so much.

"let me explain, please. it's not what you think. i promise." he whispered, vulnerability in his tone. the simple nod you gave was his signal to interlace his fingers with yours as he looked for an empty room.

you ignored the looks everyone threw your way, either worried and judging. all you could focus on was his warm hand on yours and how you missed it so much, you didn't even realize you both were now inside an empty classroom.

"there was no bet." you furrowed your brows, looking at him with mixed confusion and frustration. "i promise, there was no bet."

"why would they say that then?"

"i don't know, but i promise there's no bet. throughout the months we've been together everything i've said was real." he said, desperate.

heeseung stepped closer.

"what i felt for you was real," he scrambled to get his phone from his pocket, opening his messages app. "you can go through my phone all you want, ask any of my friends-" you raised a brow.

"not those friends! i mean sunghoon, jay, jungwon.. you know." your raised brow made him sputter. "to be completely honest, they've been ignoring me after they heard about what happened.."

you looked at him hesitantly as you scrolled through his messages with shaking hands. you scrolled for so long, you even reached to the messages months before you both got together.

he didn't have any messages to his basketball team group chat unless it was announcements from his coach. the group chat with his actual friends were only filled with his pining over 'the girl on the back of his biology class.'

"heeseung.."

"there's no bet, baby. i'd never do that to anyone." he whispered, stepping closer. "i can't lose you like this.. i love you."

you sniffled as you came crashing on his chest, letting tears fall again. heeseung immediately wrapped his arms around you, sighing in relief as he finally have you back in his arms.

"i was so worried baby." he mumbled, kissing your head.

"i love you forever. i'll kill everyone who tries to get in between us again," heeseung pulled you closer if it was even possible.

"and if they do, i'll make sure to fix everything even if it means the whole world would hate me."

★ PARK JONGSEONG ( 1.0k wc )

jay was confused.

the both of you had a very well planned date tonight, so he was utterly puzzled to see that you weren't responding to his messages. for heaven's sake, you didn't even read his messages, he was just left in delivered.

he had tried calling multiple times but was only met with your automated voice telling him to leave a voice message. it came to the point that he had enough and decided to drive to your house.

throughout the drive, jay wondered what could've happened. he couldn't think of anything that would make you upset like this, he hoped that you just fell asleep and forgot to have your alarm on.

walking up the porch of your house, jay rang the doorbell and was met with your mom who opened the door with furrowed brows when she laid her eyes on him.

"good afternoon mrs. l/n, is y/n home?" your mother's frown deepened, hesitantly looking at the stairs behind her before looking back at him. "i'm sorry jay, she said she doesn't want to see you?"

that caused jay to furrow his brows as well. "wha- may i ask why?"

"i was hoping you'd tell me." if jay was confused a while ago, he was even more confused now and frustrated.

"can i see her, please?" he pleads, the older woman hesitantly opened the door wider to invite him in, and before he could ascend up the stairs, your mom stopped him.

"jay.." he looked back. "i don't know what happened to you both but take it easy on her, alright? she's been crying, i can tell." jay gulped and only nodded, sending your mom a pursed smile.

he knocked on your bedroom door, when no response came, he tried to turn the knob and was thankful that it wasn't locked.

jay slowly opened your door, seeing you curled on one corner of your bed as your body shook from your sobs you tried to keep silent.

he could feel his heart break at the sight. stepping a foot inside the room, he mentally cursed at himself when he accidentally bumped on to your mirror causing your head to shoot up in alarm at the sound.

your already glassy eyes was once again filled with tears as your eyes met his. jay barely dodged the pillow you threw at him, screaming at him to "go away and never show your face to me again."

jay frowned and came closer until he was sat on the edge of your bed, ignoring the words you just shouted at him.

"baby.. what's- what's wrong?" he asked, attempting to hold your hand but you retracted it and tried to throw another pillow at him. he swiftly caught it and brought it back down gently beside you.

"was it worth the one month of free car wash?" you spat through hiccups. jay stayed silent, confused.

"of course it probably was, that's what you do right?" the sight of your swollen and red face kept breaking his heart, he was still confused on what you were talking about but he'll let you talk.

this way he knew how he'd make things better.

"make me fall in love with you in exchange of a month's free of car wash.." you muttered, your eyes still boring on to his. at your words, it finally clicked. "..am i really worth just that much?" another sob.

right, he had forgotten to end the call when his 'friend' came barging into his apartment. you had probably heard all the nonsense the guy sputtered.. but surely you must've heard the way he defended your relationship and swore at that him too?

"i thought.. high school days were done jay. please just leave me alone now. you got what you want." jay shook his head, coming closer and pulling your body to his.

he wrapped his arms around you, his hand rubbing your back as you sobbed hard. he didn't try stopping you when he felt your weak punches that you threw at his chest, his own tears clouding his vision but he didn't dare make them fall.

"you got it all wrong, baby." he whispered, rubbing your nape as your face now rested against the crook of his neck. he ignored the wetness there. "i'm guessing you overheard the conversation with sungjae?"

you nodded, now calmer but not pulling away.

"did you also hear the way i told him to drop the stupid bet he kept insisting to happen? the way i kicked him out of my apartment?" you stayed silent, only sniffling as a response.

jay sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist tighter and pulling you closer.

"the whole campus knows sungjae's an asshole, baby. he was a jerk who thought that being a dick to others were entertaining, and i guess that's why i was like that back in high school.. i wanted to be accepted in their group."

"but we're in college now, i left that group but somehow sungjae's here and is pathetically still stuck in the past." he pulled your face from his neck, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears.

"i've loved you since high school.. and there's no bet, baby. the moment he had found out i was dating you, he kept bringing up a bet about how long we would last.. but i always shut him out, told him to cut it out and that there will be no bet happening, especially if you're the one getting betted on."

new fresh tears come rolling down your cheek, this time they were tears of relief. glad to know that everything was real, that you weren't just a toy.

"you promise you'll cut him off starting now?" you whispered, looking at him with big glassy eyes.

"i've cut him since high school, y/n. it's him who's keep clinging to me. but i promise he won't be saying anything about the both of us anymore." jay pressed your foreheads together, pressing a soft peck on your lips.

"you will forever be the prettiest and the only one i'll ever love this much in this world, my baby."

★ SIM JAEYUN ( 0.5k wc )

jake watched you run away in confusion, staring at the laughing crowd and turning to look at your locker only to be met with the note he has been telling everyone to throw away.

he angrily took it from your locker, ripping the small paper into pieces. "how many times have i told you to cut this shit out? do you want me to report all of you for harassment and bullying?" he raised his voice at the crowd who had stopped their laughter.

"that's what i thought." he frowned, pushing past them and running after you.

jake knew what everyone was doing the moment it spread that he was dating you. he had received dms telling him he could do better and if he was merely toying with your feelings.

he had told them countless times to drop it, even going far as to almost punch the person who has created the bets if it wasn't for sunoo holding him back. he had hoped that it wouldn't reach you. it was another one of his reasons on why he always went to school earlier, just in case it was placed on your locker. unfortunately, you were earlier than him today.

it's not like he was tolerating it, he had tried countless times to report it but they'd only say it was probably only for fun and he shouldn't take jokes seriously.

but jokes were meant to be funny, right?

jake opened the door that lead to the rooftop slowly, peeking his head to look if you were there. to his luck, you were.

your back faced him while your bag was placed down carelessly beside your feet. jake approached slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you further.

"baby?" he mumbled loud enough for you to hear. you turned your head towards him, showing him your tear stained cheeks. "oh, y/n." he sighed and held your cheeks, wiping away the salty liquid off your precious face.

"jake.. why are you dating me, of all people?" you ask through tears, avoiding his eyes.

jake's eyes softened, he dated you because you were different from everyone who wanted to be like the everyone else, did that make sense? you were your own person, you didn't care about social status, wealth, his circle of friends, and whether someone was good looking or not. you were soft hearted, to the point that you had let others take advantage of that leading them to walking all over you.

and he hated that.

"why not you?" he said softly, tilting your chin up so that you could meet his eyes. "you're everything i've ever needed."

"you can tell the truth." you mutter, looking at jake. his mouth formed a pout, heart broken at the way you had so little love for yourself.

"i am telling the truth, baby." he whispers, taking your hands and placing them on his face before putting his own hands back on yours. "everything is a joke to them when i'm involved." you whisper, ignoring the way your voice broke.

"we don't care about what they think, they're all just jealous. everything we've been through and what i feel for you are real, no jokes." he smiled, pulling you closer to him.

"you promise?"

"baby i'd choose you over anyone in this world over and over again until the heavens above is tired of me."

★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.7k wc)

sunghoon frowned, confused and hurt. he wanted to fix whatever happened, so he took his phone from the couch and his car keys from the wooden bowl in his foyer.

it was when he was in the elevator that he noticed his phone was open. his breath hitched, finally knowing the reason for your departure and choice of words. sunghoon quickly left the group chat and started dialing your number.

it was true that you were a bet. were. he didn't even know why he agreed, maybe because he wanted so badly to fit in. he didn't want a repeat of middle school, so instead of being the bullied and made fun of, he was now the one doing those to others. he wasn't proud of it at the slightest.

that doesn't excuse his actions though. the longer he spent time with you, the deeper he fell. sunghoon never planned for you to find out this way, he already had a plan. first he had to get rid of his 'friends', tell you everything then ask you if you still wanted him to meet your parents.

guilt always ate him alive whenever you would stay over and sleep by his side. he couldn't bring himself to meet your family knowing he hasn't told you everything and the truth.

he felt like his heart would jump out of his chest as he stood infront of the door of your house. if he died tonight on the hands of either your father or older brother, he'd welcome death with open arms.

i deserve it.

he audibly gulped when the door opened, revealing.. you. the way your brows furrowed at the sight of him tightened his chest. he stopped you before you could even close the door on him.

"y/n please, let me explain everything.. o-okay?" the way his voice cracked and the unshed tears in his eyes almost made you give in, but upon remembering what you've read, the anger in you was back.

"explain what?" you spat, turning to look over your shoulder before back at him. "that all those months i've spent loving you," you pointed at him harshly. "was just for entertainment? tell me, what was in it for you, huh?"

sunghoon shook his head, the tears now flowing down his pale cheeks. "no, no! i promise, please i love you." he reached out but you stepped back, biting your lip as you held back the tears.

"just.. leave me alone sunghoon," he felt his heart crack even more. "you've had your fun, you can laugh about i all you want now." you were taken aback when he knelt infront of you, hugging your waist as he sobbed.

"what the-" sunghoon tightened his grip on you, muttering along the words of 'im sorry', 'never meant to be like this', and something along the lines of regretting something.

"sunghoon- oh my god." you groaned as you descended to face him. "please, i didn't mean to. i-" he hiccuped, "i'm sorry, i know it was stupid and there's no reason for me to accept the bet- but i just wanted to fit in. i wanted them to take me as a part of their circle- but, but i soon realized that it was stupid." he looked at you with swollen eyes, desperation swam in his dark irises.

"because i realized that hurting you isn't worth being a part of their asshole group. it started with a bet, i admit, but i truly love you, please believe me." a sob made its way out his throat as he clung into you, his arms circling your neck. "it wasn't a lie whenever i said i'd meet your parents, i was constantly trying to get rid of them first before i met your family, i didn't want to meet them until i've told you the complete truth."

your own tears descended down your cheeks, your heart hurting for yourself and sunghoon. you stayed on the floor wrapped around each other for a moment before you both helped each other up to your feet, he looked at you intensely with red bloodshot eyes. "i'm sorry, i understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore."

"i understand hoon," you whispered, bringing your hands to cup his face. "but you have to understand too that i can't trust you fully right up again." he nodded, putting his own hands on yours as he kissed your palms.

"i know.. and i'll spent the rest of my life earning it again. i love you."

— ౨ৎ thank u for tuning in ! @j-jinxee @slp23 @unsurereader @heelovesmeknot @sunshine-skz @hoondrop @jooniesbears-blog @jordan1024 @heeswif3y @outroherrr @harufluff @cheeseball0 @yjwluver @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @itjengirl @emiliasstuffs-blog @isa942572 @lufcxx @alienqbrain @woniebae @baekxo07 @titttuaf @chuuswifereal @kyanmeai @isabellah29 @deezbin @skzenhalove @eneiyri @a4ruby @saxytalks @denleave1088 @imdelulu @powerpuffstuts @hoonatic @dollydigital @chososloverfr @dummyf @chanyeolchannie @oddracha @wonwushu @strawberrynull @ceciloveshee @loumin908 @cexg68 @grassbutneo @gardenwons @pag-yerin @bora04 @iluvnikism @jellymiki

— i couldn't tag those who's usernames aren't in bold :(

[ponett]

favorite things from Breaking Bad VR But The AI Is Self-Aware, aside from the obvious stuff like the music, the ending, and walt being haunted by the specter of the breaking bad poster:

in general, the stark difference between the people who clearly know the scenes and the actual lines from the show and the people who either don't know or don't care, and the way wayne has to roll with it and constantly shift between both styles

as one of the youtube comments put it, the way walt's agency is downplayed by the railroading of the plot and the way his most heinous acts (letting jane die, poisoning brock, etc.) are largely skipped over make many moments where characters turn on walt and attack him feel comically unprovoked, which makes it feel like the version of the story walt would tell to make himself look better

mining the giant crystal for meth

the fact that they made "drives an el camino" at least 70% of skinny pete's personality

the sudden extreme yellow filter that appears when they cross over the clearly marked mexico border

the bit where they straight up just play the saul goodman commercial from the show on jesse's tv via youtube, but then someone switches it to the "you're not a real lawyer" scene from better call saul and they're all just so caught off guard that they kinda just start watching the scene. and then they just ignore what chuck is saying about his brother and let the quality of the cinematography alone convince them to hire saul

hank suddenly appearing in the car for a split second when walt, jesse, and saul are driving back from the desert, and to avoid completely derailing the plot wayne just looks down and clutches his head and says "cancer did that"

jesse saying he can do anything walt can do better and playing the breakcore breaking bad theme remix and wayne just goes "damn! damn!" and starts dancing

the fact that there's an extra salamanca cousin to make them triplets for no particular reason

the whole jane subplot isn't depicted so the plane crash above walt's house becomes a complete non sequitur

baaulp referencing the spice curls

they skip over the events of fly, but the map references it by having a giant fly in the superlab, which is labeled with an arrow so you can't miss it

jesse's drug-fueled house party having this playing on loop in the background

the homoerotic moment walt has with one of the salamanca triplets at the party in mexico, and also the one he has later with saul

to sidestep the whole neo-nazi thing in their lighthearted gmod stream they instead give uncle jack a gang of clowns and an evil circus (playing off of the vamanos pest fumigation tents, i assume), clearly labeled Uncle Jack's Evil Circus

since they skip the whole train heist they just have drew sharp show up at vamanos pest looking for some tiddlywinks

everything that happens with huell when walt is trying to explain to saul that hank figured everything out

and, of course, saul being chased off by the undead chuck mcgill

[antiwhores]

You accidentally had sex with Bakugou.

You two had fallen asleep in his room after a hang out. You were bestfriends but you had some underlining feelings for him. So when you woke up in the middle of the night to him cuddling you, you almost choked.

You needed to pee really bad so sadly you had to pry yourself out of his arms. When you came back his eyes were cracked open just barely. He mumbled something before opening his arms for you to join him again.

It was out of character, maybe tired Bakugou was just a touchy guy. It couldn’t be more than that.

So you joined him on the bed. You buried your face into his neck. You had to savor this cause most likely this’ll be the last time this happens. Also, you were too tired to freak out. You just wanted to fall asleep in his arms.

You can barely explain what happened after that. He hiked your leg onto him, still with his half open eyes, and thrusted right against your clothed pussy.

The next thing you know, he’s dry humping you. And then he’s fingering you. And finally he’s fucking you.

It felt good, too good.

But the morning after? You felt embarrassed. No way you just fucked him without even a first date. He’s gonna think you’re easy. He might even tell everyone that you are.

Of course, that would never happen but you were panicked. You couldn’t possibly comprehend that the great Dynamight chose you. You weren’t famous. Not a vogue model, a hero, or even wealthy. You had nothing to give him.

He had to be messing with you.

So you slipped out of his hold at 5am sharp and went home.

You fell back to sleep in tears and woke up to several texts and calls. Good thing you had your ringer off.

Bakugou - 6:34am

Where’d you go?

I was gonna make you breakfast dumbass

Bakugou - 6:52

Y/n?

Missed call - 7:00am

Bakugou - 7:30

Is this about last night?

I’ll wait for that call back so we can talk about it.

Missed call - 10:03am

Bakugou - 10:05

Call me and we can talk about it. This ignoring me isn’t gonna make it go away.

Missed call - 11:12

Missed call - 11:26

Missed call - 11-31

Bakugou - 11:40

Fucking call me back, this shit isn’t funny.

You’re so lucky I don’t know where you live yet. I’d be there in 15 minutes if I knew.

You debated calling him back. But your embarrassment and anger stopped you from letting him explain himself. How could he use your feelings against you like that! He probably knew that you liked him and wanted a quick fuck.

You started to cry all over again.

A week passed by with no contact. He sent you the occasional text telling you to talk to him but after the 6th day he seemed to give up. At least you thought that until he showed up at your door.

You opened the door wide without checking who it was since you were expecting a package. Your eyes widened when you noticed the blonde leaning against the doorframe, still in his hero costume. He must’ve just gotten off work, saving civilians and climbing the charts. It was another reminder of how he could never want you.

“You gonna let me in or am I-“

You tried to slam the door in his face but he shoved it back open easily. He let himself in, scanning the place.

“Nice place, ‘don’t see why you hadn’t invited me over.”

Maybe it’s because your small, cosy apartment didn’t compare to his high rise penthouse at the top floor.

You grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out. But he wasn’t having it and didn’t let you move him an inch.

“You need to leave, Bakugou.”

“Wow. Last name basis and I was inside you a week ago.”

“Yeah well that shouldn’t have happened.”

“Okay but it did so let’s fuckin’ talk about it.”

You just wanted him to leave before you bursted out in tears. You shook your head, trying to pull him harder but to no avail. Your lip quivered in frustration as tears welled up in your eyes.

Suddenly, he threw you over his shoulder and set you on the couch.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

You broke down in tears.

You told him everything, every assumption you made and every insecurity. You told him how you liked him but you knew he didn’t like you back. He sat there patiently, not speaking a word until you were done.

He got up with a blank face. You thought he was gonna leave at first but he kneeled down to be eye to eye with you.

“Wanna go on a date?”

It surprised you. It was the last thing he expected you to say.

“I’ll take you on a date and prove to you how much I want you. And for the record, I’ve probably liked you longer than you have me. When we met in that coffee shop I immediately knew you were the one I wanted. ‘S rude of you of you to make assumptions but I’ll let it pass if you go on a date with me.”

You agreed as he wiped off your tears. Who were you to say no?

[fl3shm4id3n]

ᴛᴏxɪᴄ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐱. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬. 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. 𝐀𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐭𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐀 𝐥𝐨𝐭.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ (ᴄʜᴏɪ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ) x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴏɴɢ: ᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ - ꜰɪʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ( ꜱʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ + ʀᴇᴠᴇʀʙ)

Tw: Squid Game 2 SPOILERS, Smut, toxic relationship, yearning? Reader is a love addict, talks about substances/drug abuse, talks about death, blood, swearing, bathroom/public sex, aggressive make out, lip biting, biting in general, fingering, titty grabbing, reader has the implant, kinda based on the bathroom scene from s1, some grammar errors.

A/N: Guess who's back :P

Masterlist

ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ/ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜱᴋᴇᴅᴀᴅᴅʟᴇ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪꜱᴋ.

You were in love. But not just any love, this kind of love was harmful. Yet you were still willing to put up with it. Your boyfriend at the time, Thanos, he was your everything. Your prince charming. At least you thought. He made you feel safe and loved all the same time. Not to mention how he'd spoil you with gifts and everything that you asked for. He made you feel like a princess. His princess. You were so in love that you even got a small tattoo on your ribcage near your breast. He loved it, every time you and him would be intimate, he'd either lick or kiss the tattoo. Loving his name on your skin. He loved you, he'd claim he'd kill for you. That made you believe him.

Until the problems began to happen. His rap career got his head, not to mention the substances he abuses. At first, it wasn't a big deal. But things got worse. Day and night he always popped a pill or two. It was almost like he needed to take those pills, in order to live. It bothered you. What did was him flirting with other girls, right in front of you at the night clubs he'd get invited to. He'd say it wasn't serious, it was just for show and other bullshit excuse. You hated it, often being cast a side and ignored because of stupid career.

Then, came the fights. You'd argue almost about everything. Even about the stupidest things that didn't matter. Every minute of every hour and everyday. You'd both fight. The final straw was he called you all sorts of things. From leech to gold digger. How could you be any of those things? You were with him when he was barely starting his rapper career. You were the one working all those hours plus over time while he was barely getting any views on his channel. If anything, he was the leech and the gold digger. You had enough of him. If you didn't leave now, who knows what else he'd do next. So broke up with him on the spot and left his apartment. He tried apologizing and begged you to come back, but you didn't. Not after that. Since break up, he'd call, text you, show up at your apartment, sending you flowers, and even as far as to go to your work place and beg to come back, making a scene. But you didn't, as much as you wanted to go back with him. You didn't. It hurt him, just as much as it hurt you.

You missed him, a lot. As much as you wanted to deny it. You still loved Thanos. You'd cry for him, wanting to take him back, but you didn't. You easily could, but you didn't. Did you enjoy him trying to win you back? You couldn't explain it. You missed him dearly. That yearning had made you basically isolate yourself from your friends. You barely left your apartment, only leaving when it was necessary, for work or to get groceries and such. You also noticed how Thanos had stop calling, texting, sending you flowers and all that. You'd check his Instagram, to see what he was up to. You noticed how the pictures he's posted of the two of you were no longer up. It hurt you in some type of way. Did he find someone else? Was he still thinking of you? Some days you'd just check your DMs, hoping that he'd send you a massage, in which you'd just ignore or leave on seen. You didn't understand why. Why did you miss him so much. He had finally left you alone, but you missed his attention. You missed him. Why?

You don't understand how you ended up here. In some place, wearing a green tracksuit with the number '013' and white vans. You were told that you were simply going to play six games in six days. It should've been easy right? While you looked around the place, seen the many beds and people that were here. Was this some kind of game show? You then saw someone you've never see in a while. You recognized that purple hair anywhere. It was the only turf of purple in a sea of either black or brown hair. It was him, Thanos. The one that you yearned for. As much as you wanted to run to him, hug and kiss him. Tell him that you missed him. You didn't, you kept your distance. Hoping he wouldn't see you.

Then you heard the horn, followed by a group of men in pink suits and masks. Where they a part of the game? Everyone began to talk amongst each other. "I would like to extend a heartfelt welcome to you all." The man with the square mask spoke. "Over the next six days. You will participate in six different games. Those who win all six games, will receive a handsome cash prize." He explained. Then someone chimed in. "Excuse me." It was woman with brown hair and was pretty tall. "If we're just playing games here, then why you'd basically kidnap us?" She asked. Good question. "How can we trust you now?" She added. "My apologies. Please understand it was a necessary step taken to maintain the strict confidentiality of these games." The masked man explained.

"Is that right? Then what's the deal with the masks?" Another woman asked. That got people talking. "That's a secret too, I'm guessing?" She finished. "Yeah. Why are you wearing those? Where the hell are we? Is this some kind of illegal casino, huh?" A man asked. "If this is were one of those, you'd see the dealers faces!" Yet another woman added. Making even more people talk. "To ensure the fairness and confidentiality of the games, it is our policy not to disclose the faces and identities of our staff to participants. We ask for your understanding." The mask man explained calmly.

You then saw how someone with long hair and highlights lifted the green sweater. "Did you people strip me when you shoved me into this?" She asked. "And where the hell are my shoes?" You heard Thanos say. Making you turn to look at him, you only saw the back of his head. "God damn it, that pair was fucking limited edition. They don't even make those anymore. What the hell? How you gonna fix it if they got ruined?" He said, very loud and upset. That was so him, worried about his stuff, especially if they were expensive. You wondered if that was why he was in debt, always buying the most expensive things, just to keep up life style. Not only that, but the stuff he's also give to you too. Which you still have, you don't even know why.

"Look at this. The size is all wrong and I hate the colors you're using. Can I have the outfit you guys are wearing instead? The pink is cute as hell." The previous girl said, hoping they'd say yes. "My apologies, but I'm afraid that's not possible. To ensure the games run smoothly, you must wear your uniforms." The mask man said. "Uh, what about my phone." A guy that seemed pretty young approached towards the platform. "You took my phone and my wallet. What the hell's going on? When'll we get those?" He pointed out. Now that he's mentioned it, you dug into both your pant and hoodie pockets. Nothing. You didn't have your phone or wallet. Damn it! Those were important.

"Your belongings are safe and being stored securely. We will return them to you once the games have ended." The masked man responded. "Can you please get my phone returned at least? I need to see how my crypto is doing. Are you guys gonna compensate me if can't trade my coins?" The young man asked. "We will return your phone once the games have ended." The masked man responded. He had an answer to almost every question asked. "I need to know if the market's going down. Do you know how much money I've invested?" The young man argued. "Player 333, Lee Myung-gi." The masked man said, then used a remote to change the huge television. Making everyone look at the tv.

It showed a video of the same game that you played with a sketchy businessman. But it was of player 333 playing the game and getting slapped. "Age 30, former owner of the YouTube channel, MG Coin. Promoted Dalmatian, a new cryptocurrency, leading his subscribers to lose a combined 15.2 billion won. He even shut down his channel and disappeared. Currently wanted for fraud and violating multiple communication and investment laws. Total debt: 1.8 billion won." The masked man said. Damn, that must have sucked getting exposed like that, but what surprised you the most was how the masked guy knew all those details without missing a beat. Did these people investage everyone here? Including you?

Another video showed, same situation but different player. It was the girl that had complained about the outfits. "196, Kang Min-na. Total debt: 45 million." The man said. Then the video changed again, same thing. But this time, it was the tall woman that had ask the first question. "120, Choi Hyun-ju. Total debt: 330 million." Then the video changed to Thanos. Sporting a green shirt, that stupid cross and vape in hand. You recognized that shirt, some nights you'd sleep in that shirt, at his apartment. He still wore it, why wouldn't he? It's his shirt. "230, Choi Su-bong, 1.19 billion." The man said, making your eyes widen. 1.19 billion!? Damn! It probably wasn't a lot but damn! You thought, then it went on, calling out more names and total numbers. The final one, got people talking even more, making everyone want to look at the last guy.

But that guy lash out in his defense. Then the mask man went on how everyone was in debt and blah blah blah. You didn't really pay attention. Your focus was mainly at Thanos, but why? You thought you got over him, but I guess you didn't. He went on and on, more boring instructions. As if they were important. Then you had to form in line to sign a consent form. While in line, you kept your head down, not wanting to come across Thanos. You stood right behind player 333. You waited patiently. Then it was his turn to sign, after he read the form and signed, it was your turn next. You read the form, reading the rules. They were easy and simple, you then signed your name on the line. You were busy that you didn't notice Thanos approach player 333.

As you turned to leave, you saw Thanos and some guy comforting the guy. Shit, all you did was freeze and stay still. Watching what was happing, until the masked man told you to get going. Once Thanos stepped away, you then stepped out of the line and tried to move quickly pass them. But unfortunately, you bumped Thanos. "Sorry." You said, trying to get away, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you to him to see who bumped into him.. Now you were face to face with him, his eyes widen. "Y/n?!" He said, shocked to see you here. He then pulled you away from prying eyes, towards the beds. "What are you doing here?!" He asked you, still holding onto your arm. You freed yourself from his grip. "What do you think? I here to get money to pay my debts. And get back the money that you owe me." You explained to him. God, you missed him so much. You felt your heart skip and your legs turn to jell-O.

"Why didn't you come to me!? I could've helped you!" He said, almost angry. You rolled your eyes. "And be more in debt? C'mon." You said. "Babe, I couldn't figured something out. Look, I got scam by that little shit over there. It wasn't completely my fault." Thanos called you that old name. 'Babe'. You loved it. "Thanos, you are 1.19 billion in debt." You reminded him, making Thanos roll his eyes in annoyance. "I know, but that's not important." He added. You sighed, but you had an idea. "How about this, once we get out. We'll return everything or sell the things that you got me and put that money towards your debt." You said, but Thanos quickly responded. "Hell no. That's stuff is for you and only you. Plus, you're in debt too, baby." He said. 'Baby'. Gods, that had an effect on you. He wasn't wrong, but you were more worried about him than yourself. "I know our relationship didn't end on a good note, but let me help you." You said, both of you just stared at one another for a brief moment. Not knowing what else to say.

"You are helping me by being here, baby." Thanos said, sweetly. You couldn't help but blush like a fool. Thanos noticed that, he couldn't help but smirk. He got close to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Pulling you close to his body. "Don't worry baby. I got you." He said, while holding you. You missed this, it was wrong for you to miss this, but you loved it.

Ever since the first game, you've been stressing. You thought you were simply going to play kids games, but you didn't expect for the losers to fucking die. You were scared, scared that you'd get shot. During the vote, you voted to leave, you wanted to leave. Dying over money wasn't worth it. But the X was out numbered by O. So you'll have to stay and play another life threatening game. Then came the Six Legs game. Thanos had chosen you to play with him and this underling. Followed by two others, a boy who seemed to just be a nervous wreck with no back bone and a girl who knew what she wanted. The whole time, you were nervous, the sight of blood and sound of gunshots had made you develop some kind of anxiety a matter of two days. You hated it. When it was your teams turn, luckily, you managed to pull through and win. Thank the gods you won.

Once you were escorted back to the lobby like room. You felt like throwing up. It made you sick seen those people get shot in cold blood, as if they were nothing. You hated it. Specially since you still had blood on you from the previous game. You asked a guard if you could go to the bath room. Which he allowed you to.

In the bathroom, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You went from looking put together and calm, to drained and terrified as well as dried blood on your face. You hated this, you wanted to go home, but people wanted to play another game. They wanted more people to die for more money. Those people were sick. They made you sick. But Thanos was one of those people, was he the exception? You didn't know anymore. You turned on the water and splashed your face with it. Rubbing your eyes and cheeks, trying to get rid of the dried blood from your skin. You honestly wish you could shower, get this filth washed off you. But you couldn't. They probably didn't have showers and if they didn't, they wouldn't let you shower.

After you cleaned your face, you stepped into the stall. Wanting some alone time. Then the door opened, you assumed it was another girl who needed the bathroom. You turn to see who it, but instead of another girl. It was Thanos. "Thanos!?" You said, shocked that was allowed in the woman's bathroom. "What's up babygirl." He said, approaching you. With his signature rapper swagger. "How'd you get in here?" You asked, now he was standing face to face. "I got my ways." He said, with his overly confident smirk. "I missed you." He said, while caressing your slightly damp cheek. "You saw me not that long ago." You reminded him, while enjoying his touch. "You know what I mean, I missed you. Like really miss you baby." He said, almost seductively. All you could do was just stare at his eyes. It was quiet, you had forgotten what you were even doing.

"And, Ima show you how much I missed you." He claimed, just as he claimed his words. He claimed your lips. You stood there, shocked that he was kissing you. As if you were a drug, a drug he had been craving for the longest time. You didn't even think twice, you began to kiss him back. Desperately, trying to get a taste of him. You missed him, a lot. You didn't care anymore. You wanted him, you needed him. He was your drug. The kiss got sloppier and messy. Thanos then pushed you into the stall, closing the door behind him. Then he pushed you against the wall, almost pinning you, kissing you even more. You held onto him, desperately clawing at his back. You felt him gently biting your bottom lip. Making you gasp and moan.

That got him even more excited. He then shoved his hands down your pants, going straight down your panties. He already felt how wet you were by simply kissing. He rubbed your clit with both his middle and ring finger. Making you flinch and moaned against his lips. "Thanos!" You moaned, he had barely touched you, and you were already breathless. This brought back a flash back when you two were together back then. He knew how to work his magic on you. After your rubbing your clit a few more times. He processed to slip his fingers inside you. Feeling you up completely. Your back arched, as you moaned even louder. You didn't care if the guard outside heard you. All your worries had gone away. Your focus was on Thanos and Thanos only.

Thanos was impatient, he needed you and wanted you now. You wined when he pulled his hand away. You wanted him to continue working his fingers on you. "Wha-" You said, breathlessly. "Strip." He simply said, as he proceeded unzip his green jacket. You too began to take off your jacket, then shirt, followed by your bra. You simply threw your clothes onto the floor without a care. You took off your shoes, quickly taking off your pants and panties together. Thanos simply took off his jacket and shirt, his abs made your mouth water. He then sat down, on the toilet seat. "C'mre." He said, as he pulled his pants and boxers enough to pull his cock out. You went over and got on his lap.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you again. You kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were too distracted by the kiss, that you didn't notice him pushing his cock inside you. But as soon as you felt your tightness stretch, you let out a shriek of pleasure, throwing your head back. This gave Thanos the opportunity to kiss your neck and processed to thrust upwards, making you bury your face onto his shoulders. Digging your nails into his shoulder blades and back. Making him hiss, he loved it. He loved this, he missed this, he missed you. This brought back memories, when you and him would go into the bathroom at the bar and have sex in one of the stall. It would excite him, specially when people would come in and out.

Soon after, you began to bounce as he thrusted upwards for more friction. "Awe! Fuck!" You moaned, weakly. As you held onto him, tightly. Meanwhile, Thanos was groaning and biting your neck. Savagely. His moved down from your neck to your chest, with one hand he grabbed your breast, squeezing and just grabbing. Followed by him sucking on your on your neglected breast. Both your bodied began to coat with sweat and began to burn up your skin. It was like fire beneath your skin. You loved getting burned. As his speed increased, your bouncing sort of weakened. He was making you weak by the way he was thrusting, harsh and aggressive. Was he on drugs? Most likely.

Thanos pulled away from your nipple and faced you, kissing you hard on the lips again. He knew how much you loved kissing his lips. You've have an orgasm just by kissing him. As your tongues swirled and mixed both your saliva, he moved his hand from your breast down to your clit. Giving you hard and fast rubs. Making your body jolt, you felt a pleasurable electric shock wave through your body. You felt so close to cumming. He probably was too. "I'm-" you weren't able to finish, he just knew. His thrusts became harsher, at this he was pounding into you. Making your skin slap harshly against his. You placed your hand onto the wall, trying to hold onto something other than him. "Thanos!" You shirked at this point, eyes screwed tightly. Gripping onto him and holding onto the wall for support.

Without a warning, you came around his cock. You felt as your body was getting electrocuted by pure pleasure. You haven't felt this pleasure in months after the breakup. Sure, you'd pleasure yourself and all that, but having sex with Thanos was a whole different thing. After you came, so did he. Thanos held you tightly as he pumped you pull. He let out a loud growl like moan. You both went quiet, except. All that could be heard was you both trying to catch your breath and heavy breathing. You looked at him, his head was leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed. Sweat rolling down his brow and his cheeks were red.

All you could do was look at him, admiring him. He was still the same. Even in your current situation of playing this games. Not knowing if you'll live or die. He was still his foolish self or maybe it was the pills he took. "I love you." You couldn't help but say. It was true, even if he didn't believe it or not. You loved him. Even after everything he put you through, you loved him. He slowly opened his and looked at you, still catching his breath. He then moved your hair, which was stuck to your cheek, placing it behind your ear. "I love you too.'' He said, weakly. You believed him, you always did when he claimed to love you.

You smiled, almost shyly like the first time you both claimed your love to one another. You leaned over and kissed him softly. He responded, kissing you back softly. After a bit, he pulled away, to look at you. Again, he moved your hair behind your ear, just like he did prier. "I need you to do something for me." He said, making your ears perk. "What is it?" You asked, waiting for him to continue. "When we vote, I want you to vote for O." He said, making you look at him in confusion. "Why?" You asked. "Think about it. The more money there is, the more we'll get. Together, me and you can pay our debts and not worry about anything. We'll be living like a king and queen." He said, as he smirked. "And baby, you're the queen of my heart." He said, confidently. Making you roll your eyes and giggle.

"I'm serious." He said, quickly. "Just one more game, then we'll go back home. And start a new life. Together." He said. With a pleading look. As much as you wanted to think more about it, you didn't. You were blinded by love and his claim of living a life with no worries. "Alright, one more game." You said in response. Thanos smiled and gave you another kiss. You kissed him back quickly. The kiss was sweet, but quickly turned into a heated one. You then felt him thrusting upwards again, making you moan against his lips. You were still a bit exhausted and sore from earlier, but you didn't mind a second round.

ɴᴇxᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ

[thinkinonsense]

WICKED

old man!logan howlett x young fem!reader

cw: cheating, heavy flirting, smut, kinda dark

authors note: i have no idea what came over me and i cannot explain it. also! gif credit to the amazing n talented @silverskyeline <333

he never should've gone to the bar. never should've let you run your pretty mouth. most definitely never should've bought you that martini. every weekend he watches you seduce the men at the bar until one of them falls into your trap.

logan would scoff, mumbling something under his breath about how stupid that bastard must be. despite the fact that the only thing holding him back from your advances was the thick gold band on his finger, reminding him of where his loyalty should be.

"lovely seeing you here again, logan."

he loathed your wicked smile and how your voice sounded like rain fall. trying his best to avoid staring into the eye of the storm but your presence demanded to be seen. practically ripping his hazel gaze off the wooden table and over to that tiny dress you were wearing. dark navy tight against your skin in a way that could make any man sin.

"missed ya' last weekend." you purr. "where were you at?"

"home." he states, gruffly.

"that's boring. why were you at home?"

"wedding anniversary."

the words made your tummy flip with excitement. you didn’t know much about logan outside of his favorite brands of alcohol, but you did know that he had a wife at home. he never mentioned her by name. sometimes, she would call the bar if it was “too late” for him to be out but other than that, she was a ghost.

“cute. you should bring her here one weekend.” you propose, almost making logan choke on his whisky. “bet she would love to see where you run and hide at night.”

“it’s not her kinda scene.” he responds.

“aw, i’m sure we would be friends.”

“doubtful.”

“and why’s that?” you fake pout.

logan leans in close before whispering, “don’t think she would appreciate you beggin’ for her husband to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom every weekend.”

“i didn’t say we would stay friends.” you giggle, making his cock stir in his work pants. “also, the invite is still open if you miss fuckin’ someone younger.”

the second you are out of sight, off in the pool room next door annoying some other asshole, he groans under his breath. logan hated how well you read him. you knew he wanted you but you were smart enough to make him come crawling to you if he wanted to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him.

after a couple minutes, a few men left the room and logan got up to take their place. when he walked inside he saw it was empty except for you sitting in one of the chairs on your phone.

“glad you decided to join me.” you smile up at him.

logan ignores you instead going over to get a stick and start playing. you finish your martini and join him as he sets up the balls. catching you off guard, he tosses you a stick too.

“if i win, you leave me alone for good.” he huffs in your face.

“sure but what do i get when i win?” you smirk.

logan ignores your question and growls, “ladies first.”

it's dead silent as you bend over the pool table to line your stick up to the diamond. logan's far too busy staring at the wet spot on your light blue panties. he never admit it, even if you knew for sure that's where his eyes were. it wasn't until he lost sight of the spot that he realized you already took your shot.

"your turn, old man." you tease, moving out of his way.

the two of you go back and forth for a bit but you were growing tired of this game. instead you decided to make things even more interesting.

"so when i win, are you going to finally fuck me?" your bluntness always left logan speechless.

"you already know the answer to that, sweetheart." he replies, trying to focus before shooting.

"sure, blah, blah, blah, something wife." you mock with an eye roll that almost made logan chuckle. "but seriously? when was the last time you two had sex? you probably got cobwebs in there."

that got a small smirk out of him. one that you count as a win.

"it's just a band. it comes off, see?" you lean over and take the ring off of his finger, placing it on the table.

logan stared at it for too long. feeling the distance of his commitments. you turn his head towards you with a light hook on his grey bearded chin. the lust in his eyes told you that you had won.

"you know what else comes off that easily?" you whisper, lips inches from his. "my panties."

a good man would've walked away. a good man would've returned home to his wife. but logan wasn't a good man. never had been and never would be.

an animalistic urge fell over him, grabbing you with the ease of a rag doll and bending you over the pool table. the wedding band was inches from your parted lips, moaning prettily as logan spread you open with his thumbs and licked a wide strip up your cunt, burying his face in your arousal and letting it coat his beard until he could only taste you.

"f-fuck me." logan groans, pulling back to catch his breath. "taste better than i imagined."

"knew you wanted me." you smirk, feeling his middle finger circle your entrance before pushing in. a loud moan is pulled from your throat as he hits that spongey spot with ease.

"weren't lying 'bout being tight." logan marvels, watching the way you suck in his finger.

he attempts to push in his ring finger as well and you wish you could've seen his face while he struggle to get it in. quickly, you reach for the wedding ring next to you then grab his hand from inside you. fumbling to get the ring back on him before he questions you.

"what are you—"

"go on." you coax, looking back at him with dark eyes. "try it now."

logan shouldn't have been so turned on from the image of his wedding ring coated in your slick; but here he was watching it disappear and reappear inside of you.

"right—fuck! r-right there..." you pant, arching farther back to meet his thrusts.

"does it turn you on being a homewreaker?" logan asks, back up on his feet and nibbling at your ear. "knowing that you have a old married man fucking you with his wedding band on?"

"mhm..." you mumble against the table. he takes the opportunity to pick up his pace, feeling you clench down. "d-don't stop..."

within seconds, your gushing around his fingers and dripping down his hand. right when he pulled out of you, you turn around and push him back into one of the plush chairs to undo his belt. falling to your knees, you begin to stroke him, tracing his veins with your tongue and tapping the tip on it.

"always knew you had quite the mouth on ya', princess." he grunts with a fist full of your hair.

you smile, taking him all the way until his tip hit the back of your throat and the hairs at his base tickled your nose. logan was finding it harder and harder to control his animalistic urge while your gagging and drooling all over his lap. quickly, you release him with a pop and stand up to straddle him, lining him up to your entrance and sinking down slowly.

"shit, you're so fucking tight." he says, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

"only for you, logan." you whine, grinding down on him, rocking back and forth.

roughly, logan pulls the rest of your dress off of you, throwing it on the floor somewhere behind you. large hands touching you all over in ways you've only dreamt of. meanwhile, your attacking his neck like a madwoman. biting and marking him up like he's yours.

desperately, logan fucks up into you, needing more. his tip nudges that sweet spot within you, making you moan loudly in his ear, encouraging him to go faster. so focused on the squealing of your soaked pussy. he captures your lips, kissing you tenderly. you can feel his high approaching, twitching inside of you, and you needed to do one last thing before it hit him.

carefully you pull away, gripping his chin and pulling him face to face with you. his eyes are blown out with desire as he stares at you.

"tell me your mine, lo." you whisper against his lips.

logan can feel you clench tightly around him, waiting for him to give into you completely. he presses his thumb down on your button, moving in fast circles to get you there with him.

"f-fuck, i'm yours, baby." he moans, coating your walls with spurts of his release. "i'm yours."

"t-that's right." you moan, kissing him roughly as your high washes over you.

"you look so pretty like this." he coos, watching the pleasure run over you.

for a moment the two of you sit still, trying to catch your breath. logan's mind races, not meaning to cum inside of you but it's far too late now.

"lets keep this a secret between the two of us, huh?" he says while you play with his hand, mischievously. before he can notice, you pocket the ring.

"sure thing, baby." you reply. "i'll gladly be your little secret but have fun explaining those marks to the old ball and chain."

logan looks down at you and that wicked smile of yours, only to realize just how fucked he is.