#@ trevor u were always one

[blueywrites]

u-haul 'cause I might let you move in it (1/2)

dom dealer!eddie x sub fem!reader Inspired by @2jihiir0's fanart 'make it quick... baby's sleeping'. leave them some love! read part two here.

2.5k

cw (both parts): 18+. smut, drug use (weed), situationship becoming something more (???), shame kink, praise & degradation, pet names, exhibitionism-adjacent, no y/n, no physical descriptors, eddie's still a fairly soft dom bc I'm just not hard like that 😭

an: this is just the start of the filth, y'all - most of it occurs in part two 😌 shout out to @munson-blurbs @hellfire--cult @word-wytch and @the-unforgivenn for their feral support and @fracturedarkness bc this wouldn't exist without her.

enjoy part one! 🩵

The afternoon sun hangs heavy in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow through the dusty blinds of the trailer. The air inside is thick with the scent of smoke and stale beer, a heady mixture that clings to the walls. It’s the kind of smell that seeps into your clothes, your hair, your skin. It should leave you feeling slightly suffocated, especially considering the oppressive humidity also clinging to every surface, but somehow, there's a measure of comfort in the acrid scent.

You’re sitting on the threadbare couch, the fabric worn with age creaking as you shift restlessly, trying to find a more comfortable position in the heat. The fabric scratches your soles as you prop your feet up, leaning against the couch arm, fanning the neck of your thin tank top to peel the dampness from your chest. Beneath the old coffee table, your flip-flops lay forgotten, abandoned on the threadbare carpet. A beer bottle sits nearby, sweating rings onto the surface of the table, a testament to the lazy haze of the afternoon.

On the other side of the couch, your dealer lounges against the cushions, his movements fluid and practiced as he rolls a joint with deft, inked fingers. You look over at Eddie as he watches the TV, his head lolled back against the couch, his eyes heavy-lidded, relaxed. He looks good. You can’t help but spend a long moment staring at him: the angles of his face, his big brown eyes and puffy lips, his long, shaggy curls that frame his high cheekbones. He’s pretty, and he’d look downright innocent if it wasn’t for the long nick of white scar tissue kissing the edge of his lip and the scruff darkening his cheeks and jaw. Your gaze dips lower over his tight black jeans, lingering where they meet his rust-colored tank. The shirt is caught up around his hip, revealing a strip of pale skin and a tattoo that you can just see the bottom of. You want to run your tongue over it, then keep mapping all his ink until your mouth has touched each bit of darkness on him.

This thing with Eddie started when you broke up with Trevor and lost your go-to source for getting high. When you’d asked around, a friend of a friend recommended Eddie Munson, saying he was the best you could come by in the area: decent product, reasonable prices, and not a total creep. The first couple times were quick transactions, and then you started hanging around because the girl who hooked you up also told you Eddie would likely offer to smoke you out if you did. He let you hang around because he didn't much care either way, and he didn't find you hard to look at. That led quickly to casual sex whenever you saw each other, usually when you'd come by a couple times a month to restock your supply. And the sex is great– better than the weed, and Eddie's weed is always high quality. He just has this ability to make you feel special in the moment without having any expectations about whatever-you-and-he-were as soon as you pull your panties back on, leaving you free to date whoever you wanted when you left his trailer.

It’s ecstasy to have all of his attention focused on you in those moments because, though Eddie looks like a mean bastard, he gets off on your pleasure. He's not one to make you feel used or neglected; he's a thorough lover. And he has a knack for straddling the perfect line between sweet and sour. He'd praise you then humiliate you in the next breath, and it drove you wild. Kept you coming back even though he never expressed interest in taking you out or doing anything with you other than just getting high, watching TV, and fucking you 'til you screamed.

And then, at some point, you find yourself declining guys' offers for dinner or drinks. You just don’t feel like going out anymore, because trying to find Mr. Right was getting exhausting— at least, that's what you tell yourself. And Eddie starts calling you sometimes to let you know he had a new strain he thought you'd like, some of Rick's fancy shit. Soon enough, you go from seeing him twice a month to twice a week, sometimes more. And slowly but surely, you begin to notice a change in yourself. You start staring at all his tattoos and wondering what the stories are behind them. Feeling an odd flutter when you flop down next to him and he'd sling his arm around your shoulder without a thought. Laying tangled in his musty bedsheets, and when he leaves to go to the bathroom, secretly burying your nose against his pillow because the smell of him has suddenly become... comforting.

Things are changing for you, and you really hope they are for him, too. 'Cause if not, it seems your traitorous heart has determined you'll be in for a world of hurt.

"Y'want some of this?" Eddie's voice cuts through the haze, drawing your attention away from the television. You glance over to see him holding up the joint, a lazy smirk playing at the corners of his lips. The glow of the joint illuminates his features, soft against the curve of his cheek.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your own lips as you shift closer to him. He pats his thigh, a silent invitation, and you don’t hesitate to straddle his lap, the heat of his body seeping through your pajama shorts. His jeans are rough against your tender inner thighs as you shift, grazing the hardening bulge pressing against his zipper; your stomach tightens with the first whispers of arousal as you feel it brush against you.

"Gimme a show then, kitten," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, making that arousal bloom fuller as you grow excited. It’s a playful taunt, a challenge, but beneath the teasing facade, you can sense something more—a hint of possessiveness, maybe even of longing. That could just be your wishful thinking, but nonetheless, your heart races at the prospect as you meet his gaze, accepting his challenge.

With a coy smile, you slip off the couch, settling on your knees and running your nails up his thighs on your way to his lap. You take your time unbuckling his belt, keeping your movements slow and unhurried, though you secretly throb as you begin to unwrap him. It’s crazy how quickly he turns you on— how all he has to do is smirk and pin you with a look, or murmur a few words in that low, husky tone, and you’re already wetting your panties for him. 

Eddie waits just long enough for you to shimmy his jeans and boxers down to his knees, and then he catches you by the jaw with a broad, rough palm. You look up at him as he guides you back up with his light grip on your face. His eyes flick down to your mouth as he leans forward, curls swinging to kiss his jaw. You brighten, eager to feel his mouth on yours, wondering what kind of kiss he’ll reward you with— something slow and sweet, or wet and filthy. But he leaves just a peck on your lips before drawing back, tightening his hold on your jaw to keep you firmly in place when you instinctively go to chase him.

You fall immediately into a pout, slumping back on your heels as he breathes a chuckle at you. Eddie bends to lightly pat your cheek a few times in consolation before settling back into the cushions, his posture relaxed yet commanding. He must know the gesture would rile you up, and it does— you feel your disappointment churn in your belly, turning to petulance. In retaliation, you clamber up to your feet, abandoning your position kneeling before his boots. With narrowed eyes, you drop your shorts and panties together without ceremony, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side, denying him the chance to enjoy watching you strip. You cross your arms when your bratting only makes him smirk even wider at you. He quirks an eyebrow as if to say, “Well?” 

You resent how much you like his stupid face.

The couch creaks its protest as you climb up onto it, slinging a leg over his lap again, this time with nothing separating your skin from his, which is hot and slightly sticky with the humidity. His cock kicks subtly when your pussy grazes him, and you bite your lip, feeling an answering pulse of desire within yourself. When you mount him, reaching behind to grip him at the base and notch his fat head at your entrance, Eddie prepares for your performance: draping his arms casually over the backrest, fingers idly tapping against the worn fabric, his other arm hinging to bring the joint lazily to his lips. 

He looks like such an asshole, waiting for you to service him. And you might've goaded him more because of it, but you forget about being bratty the second you sink down on his lap, taking him all the way into you. 

A quiet moan sighs from between your cracked lips when you sit fully on his cock, your eyes slipping closed as you get lost in that initial stretch. He's not the only guy you've fucked— far from it— but there’s just something about the way he slots inside, nudging against the end of you, that always leaves you feeling more perfectly filled than anyone else. Eddie watches with a sly glint in his half-lidded eyes as you start to grind on him, letting yourself drift into the space he always brings you into. With him, you can be soft, sensual, and needy, but also desperate and pathetic. You can act out all your secret desires, know that Eddie will flay you open and force you to acknowledge them, and let the shame of it get you off all at once.

Eddie lets you be a freak, and better yet, he likes it.

Desperate to earn his approval, you run your hands up your body, dragging over your hips and up to your neck as you ride him. Your abdomen rolls as you grind with fluid, sensual movements, doing your best to put on the show he’d requested. You look at him through your lashes as your wandering fingers catch on the hem of your tank top, dragging it slowly up to reveal your soft belly. You hold it just below your breasts so Eddie can watch the way your curves bend and move while you work his cock. 

In some respects, the dance is for you as much as it’s for him because the way Eddie watches you with rapt attention, his eyes devouring every inch of your body, really turns you on. You bite your lip, your clit swelling with anticipation as you tease him with a glimpse of the underside of your breasts. He hums approvingly, taking a leisurely hit from the joint. As the smoke curls around him in a tantalizing haze, you give in sooner than you’d been intending and ruck up your top to let your breasts fall out. You start to play with them, squeezing and kneading as you rock your hips harder, your own need mounting.

Gradually, your performance ceases being a performance. Your nipples begin to ache, begging to be touched, and a moan spills unbidden from your lips as you tweak and pinch them, sending pleasure zinging straight down within you. You close your eyes, a tiny frown forming as you try to concentrate on the low flame of your arousal, but it remains at a frustratingly low simmer. You rock faster, grind harder, pinch harsher, your movements a silent plea for the sweet relief only Eddie can give. You’ve built your own pleasure as much as you can on your own, and now, you need him. The coyness is wiped from your expression, replaced with a begging pinch in your brow, a needy, wet shine in your eyes as you blink unseeingly at him, all pretty and pathetic on his lap.

At the border between satisfaction and desperation— that’s where he wanted you. 

A hand at your hip stills your movements, and as your eyes snap to focus on Eddie's face, you see he’s leaned forward, his nose scant inches from yours. His other elbow is planted on the couch arm, the joint poised tantalizingly nearby in his ringed fingers. Eddie squeezes your hip firmly, then again more gratuitously, and when you obediently fall still to sit motionless on his cock, he lets his palm slide up the curve of your waist in a drag that makes you gasp, you're so wired and ready for his touch. You watch, rapt, as he brings the joint toward his lips, salivating as a swipe of his tongue moistens them.

“Look at me.” 

Your eyes snap up to his, captured completely by his unwavering gaze. As he inhales, those brown eyes glitter in the orange that flares bright at the joint’s end. And he keeps that point of contact between you as his broad palm travels up, up, up— over the supple heft of your breast, grazing the hard peak of your nipple, skimming the thrumming pulse in your neck, his thumb catching on the underside of your jaw as he cups your cheek. He closes those scant inches between you, and when the bulb of his nose nudges yours, your mouth falls open as your eyes slip closed. 

He exhales, you inhale. When the warm rush of Eddie’s breath kisses your lips, you take it into you, your chest expanding as your lungs fill with smoke. The taste of him mingles with a heady rush of arousal, and you continue to take, even through the twinge of discomfort as your lungs stretch to accommodate it all. As Eddie gives you the last of his smoke, you close your mouth, keeping it all inside.

“Hold it,” he murmurs against your skin. His lips trail kisses along your jaw as you obey, fighting your diaphragm as it hitches, wanting to cough. You make a little noise in the back of your throat when he nips you, the brief sharp sting soothed soon after by the flat of his tongue. You hold as long as you can, and when you finally exhale, Eddie rewards you by taking hold of your hips, pulling you into a slow, sensual grind as he kisses you sloppy, wet lips wide and devouring. The friction and fervor crash over you in an intense wave of pleasure, one that has you whining, twisting your fingers in his hair, pressing your tits to his chest, ready to ignite—

The front door shakes with the pounding of a heavy fist.

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter eight:

➴ warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 3.6k

➴ author’s note: don’t you guys love when people kiss and make up?

sophiamontenegro

liked by taylorzakharperez, zendaya, billboard and 2,692,102 others.

sophiamontenegro thanks for having me, new york 🎅🏻

View all 20,672 comments

mtv JAW IS ON THE FLOOR

trevorzegras you should’ve come to anaheim

sophiamontenegro @.trevorzegras and u should fuck off

ilovhockey77 @sophiamontenegro @.trevorzegras I wanna know the beef between them so bad someone put me in soph’s close friends list

saraunyn @ilovhockey77 im pretty sure its just Trevor who doesn’t know how to take a hint…

arianagrande i love you

morgan.grace you’re so fucking hot Sophia the hell

lovssoph PROUD TO SAY THAT I WAS IN THAT CROWD

— ♡

DECEMBER always brought more work than you’d like to have but for the first time since you started working as a singer, you were grateful for it.

You had so many appearances, so many fans to see, so many concerts to do. You were grateful singing was your favorite thing to do because time passed and you didn’t even notice it.

But, now some of the fuss calmed down and you were able to spend time doing things that weren’t related to your career, like;

“Sophia, come on, you’re gonna be late!” Grace shouted from the living room and you laughed, pouring the butter flavored popcorn into a bowl. “Sophia!”

“Jesus, Grace, calm down,” you shouted back, looking for napkins. “It’s not like we have to be there or whatever.”

Today the Devils were playing against the Blackhawks and Grace asked you if you both could watch it at your house.

“We don’t have to if you think it will make you sad, but i really wanted to watch Nico tonight.” Grace smiled, not even trying to hide how she was head over heels for him.

“It’s okay, Grace, I swear. I want to see Nico too,” you smiled, trying to hide the fact that you’d secretly been watching all of their games, desperate to catch a glimpse of Jack’s blue eyes. “We can do a girls night.”

“But you’re losing all the good shit,” she whined. “The Blackhawks players are fine, too. That Bedard kid is a cute, little honeybun.”

You chuckled, walking away from the kitchen and sitting on the couch beside her, putting the bowl on the table.

“He has a girlfriend, y’know. He dates his teammate’s sister, Ellie I think.”

“Oh, I think I saw a picture of them together at a party last month,” she tapped her chin with her index finger. “They do look cute together.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, watching as the commentator introduced the players. “Who do you think is going to win?”

“Girl, I don’t like to tell anyone my predictions because what if I jinx it?” She stared at you, like you were crazy just for asking.

You rolled your eyes. “Ever since you and Nico started fucking you became awfully surpersticious.”

“Sophia Montenegro!” She raised her arms, kicking you with her feet. “You can’t talk to me like that! I’m your sister.”

“Which gives me permission to say that you and Nico are fucking. Who cares?” You kicked her back, starting a kicking fight.

You both just stopped when you were both out of breath and the game was starting. The first period was going surprisingly smooth for the Blackhawks, which made you— secretly— worry.

Jack has probably seen better days. You would always say that he’s the number one player in the team because for you he absolutely is, but even someone who didn’t know anything about Hockey could tell that he was lacking.

You bit your lips and squeezed your thighs because, even after everything, Jack looked so fucking good. Especially with the black Devils uniform. He looked handsome and you knew that he was all of that, and he’d always be.

Sometimes you’d think about how good the sex between the two of you was, and you’d wonder if you’d find anything like that ever again.

At the end of the first period, the scoreboard read 2-1, the Blackhawks winning. You and Grace were in the middle of a discussion about how her ex looked like Shaggy from Scooby Doo when the commentator started showing the celebrities who showed up to the game.

“Who even cares about the celebrities who showed up?” You threw popcorn at the screen. “Or even better, since when do they show celebrities? Aren’t they supposed to be interviewing the players or whatever?”

“You know a lot for someone who doesn’t watch the games,” Grace teased you, and you just pushed a handful of popcorn inside your mouth. “And sorry to say this, sweetie, but if people didn’t care about celebrities, you and I wouldn’t have a job.”

You rolled your eyes, paying attention to the TV again.

“So, tell me, Nat, I’ve heard that we have some pretty famous people here today.” The announcer talked to the reporter who was standing in some kind of expensive room Sophia didn’t know the name of.

The black woman just smiled, nodding her head and bringing the microphone closer to her face.

“That’s right, Shaan. Some well known people blessed us with their presence here today…”

“I hope it's Ariana Grande or some shit like that.” Grace muttered beside you.

“Oh remind me to call her later, I need to visit her next time I’m in LA,” you replied mindlessly, still watching the sports channel.

“…And among all of these people, we have the one and only, Harris Dickinson and his girlfriend, Chloe McGill!”

“What?!” You heard Grace yelling beside you, which confirmed that what you were seeing wasn’t just your head trying to play games with you.

There he stood, in all his glory, with the cocky smirk that once gave you butterflies and was now making you sick, with his arm wrapped around a girl’s waist.

“Am I tripping or that girl looks awfully like you?”

You looked at the scene in front of you, where the reporter was now interviewing Harris with an enthusiastic smile. The girl beside him, Chloe you think, indeed looked a lot like you.

“She… she looks just like how I did when I started dating him,” you concluded, feeling sick all over again. “Even the fucking bangs, Grace.”

She put her hand on your left arm, caressing you. “I’m so sorry, bubba. Do you want me to turn it off?”

“No, ‘course not,” you reassured her, trying to smile. “I’m fine, I was just caught off guard, that’s all.”

“Okay,” Grace whispered. “Okay.”

“…I’m just happy to be here, y’know?” Harris stated, still showing his pearly white teeth. “I’m a huge Devils fan, just like my girl here.”

“That’s the biggest lie he’s ever said,” you laughed, feeling sorry for how pathetic he is. “He deadass couldn’t even stand the thought of Hockey, or any sport for that matter. What the hell is he even saying?”

“Well, apparently that little girlfriend of his, is the daughter of one of the Devils’ coaches,” Grace promptly replied, and you looked at her, ready to ask how the hell she knew that, but seeing the phone in her hand. “They’re like, rich as fuck.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Harris’ type to me.” You mumbled, praying that the second period would come faster.

And maybe God did hear your prayers because not even five minutes later, the Devils and the Blackhawks were back on the ice. The game was nerve wracking, your nails and eardrums long gone from how much you’d bitten them and how loud Grace screamed during the game.

Jack was smooth on ice, the best you’ve seen him playing all season, even before you and him fought. It was satisfying to watch him doing what he loved and you were happy that he was finally getting back on track.

Two hours later, the game ended; the Devils won. Grace cheered and jumped around while you laughed at her, happy to see her happy. Even if you didn’t understand much of hockey and even if you didn’t care about it, you were also thrilled, because you knew Jack would be happy.

You kinda hated your mind for always thinking about him but you couldn’t help it. Not when you saw how handsome he looked and not when you still loved him. A lot.

The same reporter from before, Nat, continued to talk, interviewing some of the players from the team. Grace whined about being hungry and you rolled your eyes, getting up to cook for her.

“What do you want?” You asked, opening your cabinets. “I can make pasta for us.”

“Ugh, yes, please,” she fake-moaned and you laughed. “If I’m going to fuck Nico tonight, Imma need all the carbs in the world,”

“You’re disgusting. I hope you know that,” you answered back, putting the water to boil.

“For Nico Hischier? Hell yes I am!”

You cut the onions and garlic, before putting olive oil on a separate pan and adding them. Grace continued to yap about the game, pointing out all the best players and who she liked best, while you just nodded and cooked.

“Ooh, they’re having a fancy celebrating party tonight!” She yelled from the living room, even if you could still see her and the TV because you had an open kitchen, grabbing your attention. “Is it a gala? I hope it is, Hockey players look so fucking good in suits.”

“And they say I’m the horny one…” you mumbled, putting the tomato sauce inside the pan.

“Can this woman give us some information we actually want to hear? I don’t care if they have points or not, I just want to see them in suits!”

“She’s just doing her job, Grace, stop being a whore.”

Moving around the kitchen, you finished Grace’s dinner, and grabbed a plate for her, not after filling up a glass of cold water and grating some cheese.

You went back to the living room, placing everything in front of her, while she hugged you from behind, giving you neck kisses.

“I am going to wife you up, baby!”

You giggled. “Shut up and eat, weirdo,”

She just let you go and sat on the floor, swallowing the pasta like it was her last meal.

You both watched as they showed the party, all of the players there, people laughing and smiling for pictures. Jack wasn’t interacting with the reporters, and you thought it was weird, even if you knew he low-key hated them.

“…so, yeah, I’m definitely happy we won tonight but we still have to work hard—” Mercer suddenly stopped himself mid-sentence, leaving the woman— Nat— beside him confused. He covered his mouth with his hand and laughed. “Is that Jack fighting someone? That’s sick! Film that, baldy!” He asked the cameraman.

You and Grace stopped talking and stared at each other. The camera suddenly changed angles and showed a body you knew way too well on top of another body you, unfortunately, also knew well.

“Jesus, Jack is punching Harris in the face!” Grace announced, like you weren’t watching it yourself.

The angles weren’t good because you’d bet money the cameraman wasn’t expecting to record a fight tonight, but it was still pretty damn clear that Jack was punching Harris’ face repeatedly, while his girlfriend screamed and cried and the other players tried to get him off Harris’ face.

Harris fought back, but even though he tried, he wasn’t used to fighting. Unlike Jack, who threw every punch with force and precision.

“It seems like our number eighty-six, Jack Hughes, is having a fist fight with the actor Harris Dickinson!”

“Stop trying to state the obvious, bitch, film the fucking fight!” Grace yelled.

“Grace, calm down.” you whispered, watching as the camera focused on Jack again, this time him being dragged by Nico and Nathan while he shouted at them to let him go.

This was bad. Like, bad, truly bad. They focused on Harris’ face for just a second, and it was enough— his face was all bloody and he was probably going to have a black eye for a week, with how swollen his eye was. Jack had most likely broken his nose and shit wasn’t looking good.

“Oh my God, why did he do this!” You got up from the couch, pacing around the room. “Fuck, does he know what this is going to do to him? Harris is dating the Coach’s daughter, what the hell!”

Grace was also too stunned to speak, something that did not happen often. You could tell she was just as distressed as you.

“Harris Dickinson is going to the hospital with his girlfriend Chloe and his father-in-law, Coach Ryan McGill.”

“What the fuck, this is bad,” you put your hands on your head, trying to figure out what to do. “I need to do something.”

Grace sighed, loudly. “I should be the brain in our friendship but… yeah. I mean, I know you guys are out of contact right now but this… he definitely did this for you…”

“Yeah, Grace, make me feel worse, go ahead.” You hissed.

“I’m not trying to make you feel worse, baby, you know why he did that!” She raised her arms. “You should talk to him. This obviously isn’t working for any of you.”

“Grace—”

“No, you will hear me now!” She talked on top of you, also getting up. “I’ve watched you put on a fake smile and pretend you’re fine and I didn’t say anything because I knew you had to figure it out yourself, but I can’t do this anymore. You’re drowning yourself in work, you spend half of your time at your studio and the other half at John’s studio. You don’t go out, you don’t live.”

“Grace.” You tried again.

“And usually I’d say something like: ‘get over that fucking asshole’ or ‘he isn’t worth it’!” She walked back and forth. “But the worst part is that Nico told me Jack is just like you!”

That made you stop. “What?”

“He’s not at parties, he’s not hanging out with the team, he’s not goofing around. All he does is sleep, eat and go to practice. And, fuck, Nico doesn’t know what to do because Jack never acted like this before.”

“Grace, what…” you breathed, almost yanking your hoodie with how much force you were holding it. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because it’s so fucking obvious you both love each other yet you won’t do anything!” She lamented, staring at your eyes. “I can’t watch you fall apart like this. You have to tell him that you want to be with him.”

“Grace, I can’t— I can’t do that.” You stuttered, trying your hardest not to cry.

“Sophia,” she whispered, grabbing your hands. “That man loves you. He just punched your ex-boyfriend on national television, with everyone watching. I stand with what I said back at that dreadful Halloween party, I’ve seen how he looks at you. And he loves you. Jack Hughes loves you, Sophia.”

You let her words sink in, nodding once. Grace was bossy, delusional and a bit insane too but she was right. You needed to do something.

“Okay,” you agreed, holding her against your body. “What do I do?”

“Shit, I didn’t think you’d agree with what I was saying… I don’t know?”

“You’re such a dumbass sometimes,” you laughed and she pinched your butt. “I think… I think I’m going to his house.”

“That’s a bald ass move and so right. Want me to go with you?”

“No, I’m good. I don’t even know if he’ll hear me out but I’ll try?” You stepped back, grabbing your car keys and purse.

“Call me if anything goes wrong,” she blinked, going back to the couch. “If you don’t, I’ll call you and risk interrupting your fuck.”

“Like I’d ever pick up,” you joked, leaving the house.

Jack lived thirty minutes away from you, and alongside with that, it was a Friday night in Newark— of course the streets were filled with cars. It took you an hour to get there but even so, Jack’s car wasn’t parked in front of his garage like it used to.

You turned your car off, and waited. You could wait outside but with how cold it was, it was safer for you to wait inside. You couldn’t risk getting sick.

Seconds turned into minutes and when the one hour mark came, you sighed.

“Maybe he isn’t coming home tonight,” you said to no one, tired of waiting. You knew you could call him, but you weren't entirely sure he’d pick up. “Maybe it’s just traffic.”

You decided to wait a little bit more, half an hour. If Jack wasn’t there by the end of it, you’d just come back tomorrow. Fortunately, shortly after that, Jack’s car was parked outside of his house.

You watched as he got out of it, opened the back door and grabbed his duffel bag. Taking a deep breath, you left your car and closed the door silently.

Walking to his porch with fast steps, you called him. “Jack!”

He stopped immediately, turning around to face you. He had a bandage on his eyebrow and one on his cheek. Your heart tugged on your chest.

“Soph?” He asked, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him.

You stepped closer, smiling awkwardly.

“Hi,” you said, softly, putting your hands inside your pockets. “Can we… hum… talk?”

He stared at you for a second, before nodding and turning around again, opening his door and letting you inside the house first. You thanked him and stepped inside, taking in the sight you missed so much, his home.

You both stayed quiet for a while; he put his things away and you stood there, weirdly. You didn’t know how to start the conversation, so you just stared at him. He looked tired, dark circles adorning his face, hair messy and face a bit swollen. Even if he looked hurt, he looked ten thousand times better than Harris, who was probably in the emergency room at the local hospital.

“Jack,” you started, noticing how his body went stiff and he stopped moving. “Why did you do it?”

You didn’t give him a chance to reply, stepping closer and putting your hand on his face, feeling the hotness of it, and realizing you missed him more than you knew.

“Jesus, Jack, do you even realize what you did?” You whispered, moving your thumb up and down. “He’s dating your coach’s daughter. He’s a powerful man, baby.” The pet name slipped out of your tongue, but you didn’t want to take it back.

“Fuck,” he breathed, grabbing your wrist and kissing it. “Say it again, Soph.”

Maybe someone else would need him to clarify it better, explain further. But not you. Not when the love you felt for him ran deep inside your soul.

“Baby,” you whispered again, watching as he closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Sophia, fuck, what did you do to me?” His voice sounded so tender, you could feel your body wanting nothing more than to melt inside his arms. “I can’t— Fuck.”

“Jack, you need to understand that what you did, baby, it could cost you a lot—”

“I know. Soph, I know that. And I still would break his asshole’s nose again and again.”

“Why did you do it?”

He stepped away, and you immediately wanted him to come back. “Why did I do it? Isn’t it obvious?” He laughed, humorlessly. “Sophia, I am in love with you. I love you.”

You felt your cheeks getting wet, and only then did you realize you were crying.

“I didn’t understand it sooner because, hell, I have never loved a woman before that wasn’t my mom, and even then, it’s not even close to what I feel towards you,” he ran his hands through his hair. “I didn’t think being in a relationship was for me, I didn’t even want it. But now I look at you and—” he looked at you, blue eyes brighter than you’d ever seen. “I look at you and I realize you’re all I want.”

You were fully crying now, the tears running down your face like models on a runway. Your hands were shaking, and you wanted to scream at him.

“You’re it for me, baby,” he stepped closer, gently putting his hands on your waist, letting you rest your head on his chest. “I know that you’re upset, and I know this isn’t easy for you. We all got bags full of shit that we don’t want, but I will unpack them for you, baby. Just… just let me.”

“Jack,” you sniffled, trying to stop crying. “I need you to know that I love you, too. But,” you pressed your lips together, organising your thoughts. “You need to know that sometimes it’s going to be hard for me. I don’t trust so easily anymore and I’m sorry for it but that’s just who I am.”

You could swear you could feel his smile, while he held you tighter. “It’s okay, Soph. When I tell you that I want you, I don’t mean only the good parts. I want you whole. I want the bad, the good and the in-between,”

“What if,” you hold him impossibly closer. “I don’t want you to get tired of me.”

“Tired of you?” He chuckled. “I want to marry you.”

You stepped away from his like he was on fire. Frowning, you raised your finger.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Hughes. Besides that, you’re literally twenty-two.”

“I don’t mind you being my old sugar mommy,” he shrugged, smiling.

“Call me old again, Jack Hughes, and I promise you will never hear from me again.” You smiled too, and for the first time in probably two months, it felt real.

“Yes, ma’am,” he stopped smiling, stepping closer to you again. Holding your wrists to his mouth, he kissed the right first before moving onto the next. After he was done, he placed them on his neck, grabbing your waist.

You stood on your toes, trying to stay face to face with him.

“Can I be your boyfriend?”

You smiled. “I guess you can.”

“You guess?” He bickered back, plastering his white teeth for you. “Can I kiss you, baby?” He whispered, kissing your cheeks. Then your nose, then your forehead. Always gentle and steady. “Soph, sweetheart, can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, you just glued your lips together, moaning because you had missed this so much. His lips felt like the sweetest thing in the world and when he touched your tongue with his, you were sure you had turned into butter and was now melting.

Maybe your forever wasn’t so distant at all.

[hrtsdevils]

dog-eared. | jh86

summary reader and jack broke up before he was drafted to the nhl. after years of watching from afar, jack finally sees y/n in person. past feelings are brought up to the surface.

pairing jack hughes x fem!reader

wc 2.6k

an my lovers… also another gracie fc sorry idk what to tell you! also for the sake of the plot pretend that the devils play the ducks on tuesday instead of vancouver thanks!!! loosely based off of everywhere everything by noah kahan ft gracie abrams

It had been years since you’d seen Jack. You broke up right before he started his NHL career as it seemed like your plans didn’t align. You’d be going to college in California, as USC had been your dream school your whole life. You dreamed of living somewhere where it was sunny and it was never freezing, unlike the weather in your hometown of Toronto. He dreamed of making it big in the professional league, which he was so close to achieving already.

The breakup between you two was mostly mutual. It happened in your 2005 Honda Civic, in the parking lot of a gas station after you had gone to buy soft drinks. The two of you could feel the breakup impending, and it felt as if the weather channel told you a meteor would be hitting Earth within minutes. As if the sun was about to collapse. The silence was deafening as you started your car, putting your drink in the cup holder. He followed suit.

“I..” He started before you cut him off.

“You think we need to break up?” You asked, giving him a soft smile. It wasn’t genuine, it was quite the opposite. You just didn’t want him to feel guilty, you thought it was the right thing as well.

He nodded softly, “I just think we’re on two separate paths… you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Your hands tensed under your thighs, as you were using them as hand warmers. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Buttons.” That had been his nickname for you since the 8th grade. You had a perfect little button nose, and it quickly caught on and everybody would use it for you as well.

The drive back to his parents’ house was in silence, as neither of you had much to say to each other. In about ten minutes, you were parked in front of his house. “You’re still going to come to my birthday party, right?” You asked. You were turning eighteen in a few weeks, June 7th.

“Yeah, I will.” He smiled sadly, “It’s not over. We’re just separating until we get brought back together.”

You huffed, “When’s that? Whenever fate decides?”

“Precisely. Call it a dog ear.. you like to read, right?”

“Yeah, I would never doggy ear my books though.” You giggled, “Bye, Jacky.”

That was the last you talked formally. He never did come to your party, texting you an excuse about how he had a training camp that day. You didn’t believe it, but you never said anything about it. It had been years, you watched him succeed from your dorm room and then to your small apartment couch. Your roommates never understood your love for the sport, but you always attributed it to being from up north.

That was a reason, but not the only one.

Every year you anticipated the Devils coming down to Anaheim to play the Ducks. That was practically the only time you watched Jack in person. You were particularly excited this year, as his little brother Luke would be playing too. You adored Luke, he was so sweet and well-mannered, especially to you. Trevor would also be there. He wouldn’t be playing as he was injured, but you’d caught him after a few games to catch up and he was your little piece of Michigan in California.

It was a Friday game, which met that the tickets were slightly higher and there were fewer of them. You finally got your good friend, Cecilia, to agree to go with you. She was familiar with your love of hockey, and she knew you went to a lot of games. She didn’t know you knew two players on the ice, and two players up in the press box. As you were buying your tickets with her, you got a text from Trevor.

trevor zegras 🐣 : hey buttons r u coming to the game? idk cause jacks playing

You hastily replied, trying to shield your phone from Cece in the most subtle way possible.

y/n buttons : yeahhhh i was jst about to buy my tickets bahaha

trevor zegras 🐣 : don’t buy them ❌❌ i have a club ticket right above the benches if u want it

y/n buttons : usually yes i’d love to but i’m bringing my friend cece

trevor zegras 🐣 : i have 2! i’ll send em to u later

y/n buttons : thanks trev i appreciate u ☺️

You put your phone down and closed your laptop. Cece was a couple feet away on hers, but looked at you when your laptop snapped shut. “Did you buy them?” She questioned, scooting closer to you. You shook your head.

“Kind of? Well, one of my friends is on the team and he’s injured, he offered us seats right behind the bench.”

Her jaw fell slightly, “You never told me you had connections!”

You smiled, “I don’t really, I usually buy my tickets. This was a first time thing, I think he might be drunk.” You tried to explain it in the least suspicious way possible. You didn’t want to seem boastful, but an explaination had to come from somewhere.

You two discussed the arrangements for a couple minutes longer. From outfits to hair to transportation, you were more excited for this game than you had been for any others. Maybe it was because it was Jack’s team, or maybe it was because someone finally seemed to share your admiration for the sport.

Who knows, it was probably the latter.

The day came quick, as it was only a day or two out from your initial conversation. The tickets usually dropped in price right before the game, but luckily you didn’t have to spend the money on it regardless. You lended Cece a Zegras jersey that he got you, while you chose to wear an unnamed 30th anniversary jersey. You still had a few hoodies with Jack’s last name on the back, from his time with USNDTP, but you wouldn’t be wearing those tonight.

You arrived shortly before warm-ups, but when you looked at your section and seat numbers you realized Trevor wasn’t lying about you being right behind the bench. He just never mentioned that it was the away bench. You watched from your seat as the boys entered from the tunnel. They weren’t facing you, but you watched to make sure they didn’t turn around at least not now.

You managed to go a little while without being seen by Luke or Jack, that was until Cecelia got extremely into the game. The Devils had a goal in the late first period, opening up the scoring. Luke was sitting on the bench about a foot to the left of Cece, and once they scored she started banging on the glass.

As he stood up to cheer, he turned around due to the banging. The first thing he did was make eye contact with you. His eyebrows raised, and he blinked as if you’d disappear when his eyes opened. He didn’t say anything as you tried to avoid his gaze, and simply turned back around.

The game continued on, and you didn’t see him say anything to Jack. Soon enough, it was intermission and you felt safer. Like eyes weren’t on you anymore, even though they never were. It went by fairly quickly as the two of you watched the silly halftime games that usually were played by young children. As soon as the Devils came back through the tunnel, Jack turned around and looked at you. He kept sneaking glances as they warmed up again before the start of the second.

The rest of the game wasn’t as fun, as the brunette kept staring at you. As if you couldn’t go to hockey games, his hockey games. As if he couldn’t help looking at you. As if he missed you.

It didn’t help that Cece kept shouting at you, telling you that the cute one kept staring at you and that he wanted you. You knew her best interest was at heart, but she had no idea the magnitude of your situation with said cute one. You entertained her teasing of you, and how she kept pointing at you everytime Jack glanced your way.

By the end of the game you were over it. You wanted to escape and go home before the off chance that you ran into Jack actually happened. It was relieving when you got into the car, but startling when your phone lit up with a single message from Jack. Cece was giggling to herself, looking up one of the cute guys she saw on Instagram. She was oblivious to the situation

jack hughes : hi why were u there

You tried to think of an excuse, but eventually you realized it wouldn’t matter if you told the truth or not.

buttons 🩷 : because i was given tix my trevor.. and i go to a lot of ducks games

jack hughes : oh no other reason?

buttons 🩷 : u think i went for u?

jack hughes : maybe a little. sorry for bothering u buttons.

buttons 🩷 : don’t be sorry. how long are you in anaheim?

jack hughes : tonight n then flying up to seattle

buttons 🩷 : where r u staying?

It was a twenty minute drive back up to your apartment, but with your speeding it was around seventeen. Cece didn’t question your urgency as you dropped her off at your shared apartment, and left immediately after. She was a little bit tipsy. As you drove to the Marriott in Anaheim, you thought about what you were doing.

Throwing away years of peace for the same boy who disrupted it all those years ago. If you started to have feelings for him again, who knows how much you life could be uprooted? Everything could be ruined. All the progress and the getting over Jack. Your Jack. You knew you were risking your own personal journey by going to see him, but at this point you didn’t care.

The hotel receptionist was reluctant to let you up, as she knew who was staying there. The skepticism on her face was present from the very moment you walked in.

“Look, I know him and I know his room number, so can you just let me go up?” You pleaded with hed. Going to a room usually wasn’t necessarily an issue, the issue here was that a sports team was staying. She might’ve thought you were a crazy stalker fan.

As she was about to answer, Jack exited the elevator and spotted you talking to the receptionist. “She’s with me.” He told her, as he walked up to the desk. “Thanks, though.” You had texted him a minute prior about the receptionist, but you didn’t expect him to rush down.

“Hi.” You breathed as you made your way toward the elevator, “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good.” He stopped before the elevator, “Would you rather go for a drive? I’m sharing a room with Luke.”

Your story paused in a car, so you were unsure how this would turn out. Maybe it will be different this time. “Sure.” You replied softly.

You two walked to your car in silence. You were about to get in the driver’s seat, but he insisted on driving. “You should drive slow around here, there’s a bunch of cops at night because of drunk college students.” You chuckled, “I’ll tell you when you can speed.”

You buckled up, and he started your car. It was an upgrade from your Honda, being a more recent model of a Nissan. “So, why’d you come to the game?” He asked as he pulled out of the hotel’s parking lot.

“I go to a lot of Duck’s games. Trevor plays, of course I go watch him.” You started, “He offered me club tickets, and I figured they were behind his bench. They weren’t, obviously.”

“So you didn’t go for me?” He questioned once again, “I don’t believe that, Buttons.”

You rolled your eyes, “I kind of did. I’ve been while you were playing for the last three years, but I still like hockey in general.”

“I’ll believe that.” The silence sat for a little while as he drove 25 down the city roads, the radio wasn’t even playing. “Do you think we could’ve done long distance?”

You shook your head, “No, not then at least. That’s why we broke it off. Maybe now.” You said the last part quieter, just enough so that if he wasn’t paying attention he wouldn’t have heard it.

But of course he was paying attention. You were his everything before, and possibly even now.

“Now?” He questioned, “What do you mean by that?”

“When we broke up, you said our page was dog-eared. Bookmarked. It was more like a pause until we were ready and mature, or at least that’s how I took it.”

He smiled, “I remember that. Do you think we’re ready and mature?”

You shrugged, looking at him. “Maybe, just this semester and then I’m done. I chose to graduate a semester early. I could move back east, we could be closer. Even without I think we’d be mature enough for long distance.”

The chances of this moment happening just weeks before you graduated was an alignment of the stars in itself. This could be everything you wanted, without disrupting your peace.

“If you need a place to stay, you can always stay with me and Luke.” He offered, “To get on your feet, if you come back.”

“Maybe.” You hummed. His hand was resting on the gear shift, even though it was an automatic. You made a move to lay your hand on top of his, squeezing it gently.

It was a soft step in the right direction. A step to getting the love of your life back, which is what you’d wanted since the minute you broke it off. It’s been a long three years without him, he was your best friend and you intended to make up for the lost time soon enough. You wouldn’t bring up how he never contacted you either, because it was far in the past. You were both kids at the time and you can’t hold a grudge about that.

As he re-entered the hotel parking lot, you smiled at him. Your hands were now intertwined on top of the cup holder region, and you never wanted to let go. His hand was more rugged than before, matured and weathered, but it was still a comfort you had missed. He dropped it to shift the car into park.

“So, I’ll see you soon then?” He asked, as you got ready to get out. 45 minutes had passed between getting into the car and now. You conversed about your current life and your future. Your future together.

You nodded, “Yeah, hopefully. Keep in touch, okay? No ghosting me.” You stepped out of the car and walked around to the driver's side as he got out as well.

The two of you shared a hug, but exchanged little words. You could hear the cars around you, and the sounds of the city were still alive. “Bye, Jack.” You released him from your embrace.

“Bye, Buttons.” He smiled, “I’ll text you.” He turned around and walked back to the hotel as you watched, a smile gracing your features as well.

You’d love him forever, whether you got back together or not. You believed he felt the same. You were glad that Trevor had known about the seating on the tickets, and made sure they got to you. You were also glad Luke saw and recognized you. You were excited to see him. The end was over, and the new start was just beginning.

[chrissdollie]

little sister sturniolo hcs C:

chris 100% found ways to trick you into doing things for him

ex: “if you don’t clean my room, that monster you saw on tv is gonna come into YOUR room!”

well.. he made you do everything except for his chores

you always did that, and not just for him. you love doing little things around the house with your headphones in. so after eating, he’d definitely leave his dishes in the sink because he knows you’ll wash them

walking trevor with matt :(

u scared away justin’s first girlfriend when he brought her home for dinner simply because you didn’t like her

u were probably one of the first ppl nick told when he was still in the closet

ur reaction wasn’t surprising at all, nick had a feeling u already knew. u merely shrugged, “i know.” 

one year for halloween, you all were the group from the wizard of oz EEEK

matt was tin man, nick was the scarecrow, chris was the cowardly lion, and you were dorothy! (puppy trevor was put inside your basket)

matt helping u with ur homework !!

he was so gentle too, you never went to nick for help again

u were your parents little princess ! therefore you were definitely the most spoilt. meaning that whenever chris, matt, nick, or justin wanted something from mom or dad, they asked you to ask for it

that ended by the time you were 7. you went up to jimmy and exclaimed, “matt wants to go to the arcade!” 

as you got older, you began keeping tabs on everyone. you had blackmail on each of your siblings and had no problem using it against them

“can you drive me to the mall?” *sassy face* “no, yn. ask your friends for a ride.”  “i have a video of you helping chris cheat on a test-” “when do you wanna leave?”

i see the triplets totally playing pranks on u when u were too little to recognize who was who. they’d purposefully switch up their styles to confuse you (matt started feeling bad when u got too frustrated and told the other two to go back to normal)

IF the triplets decide to put you on their channel, everybody is so in love with u!! especially ur accent omg. since they moved to LA, they hadn’t really heard much of your brothers accents but yours sounds like your father’s without a doubt!

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

What are you trying to say? - Trevor Zegras

Word Count - 3600

Author's Note - I 100 percent projected my own dysleixia hardcore into this. This was 100 percent written for the dyslexic girlies and learning disability girlies only. Also not me accidentally maybe becoming a Trevor girlie after writing this oh no. This one is by far my favorite segment.

Warnings - light angst but like it ends happy shocking for this page, who am I becoming???

Summary - In the talking stage with Trevor Zegras you're not sure how his joking personality will respond to your struggles that you have with being an adult with dyslexia, especially since it doesn't affect you how media expects it to.

Let me love you masterlist main masterlist

This isn’t something new to you, you’ve struggled your entire life with the fact that you're dyslexic. It’s a lot more complicated than people may recognize. Many people assume that it only comes up when you're trying to read something like a textbook or an article, and that when you’re finished with school it won’t really affect your daily life anymore but that’s far from the truth. In truth, being an adult with dyslexia affects you in little ways daily. From having difficulty knowing your left and right when given verbal directions, your spelling being terrible when texting others, mispronouncing certain words and being easily embarrassed when it gets pointed out, or worse sometimes the word is literally on the tip of your tongue you can even physically see in your brain but your mouth can’t form the proper sounds, how certain fonts you struggle to read vs others, or that black ink on white paper is the bane of your existence.  Although all of these are “little” things, it does impact the way you communicate with others. It does feel extremely frustrating sometimes feeling like people think that you're using your dyslexia as an “excuse” when in reality your brain is wired completely differently because of it. 

Since you first met Trevor and started talking to him, you had that fear you always do in the pit of your stomach, will he pick on you the first time that he truly can’t understand a text or the first time he hears you mispronounce a word despite years of speech therapy where you tried to but still you can’t pronounce correctly. Although, part of you knew that your fear was extremely irrational, part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that was until proven otherwise the jokester in Trevor would make a joke about something you truly couldn’t control. 

That is until today, when it happened it’s one of those rare days when you were driving and Trevor was in the passenger seat. His car was in the shop, and he needed a ride back from the arena to his apartment. Originally he was going to take an Uber but since you both already had plans after the morning skate you insisted on picking him up. 

“It’s easiest if you take this right up here to get back to my place.” He directs you without looking up from his phone,you tell him okay, turn on your left turn signal and get in the left lane. Trevor finally looks up from his phone while you're waiting at the red light for it to turn green to see you're in the wrong lane. 

“Sweetie?” asking in a questioning tone

“Hmmm” 

“This is the left lane. I told you to take a right.” Trevor says in a concerning tone as to how you were five traffic lanes away from where you needed to be. 

“sorry I thought you said ‘left’. I can make a u-turn?” Deciding in the moment you didn’t want to admit that you heard him correctly but processed the direction wrong, you offered as the traffic light finally turned green. 

“It’s alright we can just take the long way. Don’t worry about a u-turn.”  Not seeming to care at all that it will add an extra 10 minutes to the drive due to the mistake. 

As you continued driving you ended up making another wrong turn, Trevor put his left hand on your thigh and subconsiously rubbed small circles into skin to comfort your growing anxiety, he could feel this odd tension that was built up in the car. “Can you point please?” your voice barely over a whisper as you felt extremely embarrassed all of a sudden and started feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. 

“Yeah Y/N/N I can do that, we could also switch places. I can drive you the rest of the way if you need it if you're feeling anxious all of a sudden.” Trevor was being really sweet, trying to fix the problem at hand thinking it was just some anxious thoughts and not your brain processing audible information incorrectly. 

“No, pointing is good.” Forcing yourself to look straight ahead because you don’t want to accidentally catch his eyes as he looks at you with a worried look. He squeezes your thigh in a comforting way and drops the topic. The rest of the ride felt quick as he pointed and said the direction you needed to go until you reached his apartment. Finding a parking spot in the garage you parked your car, as soon as you felt your foot on the brake, and your right hand pulled the gear in park, you leaned back automatically and sighed grateful you were done driving. Trevor still had his hand on your thigh, he turned his neck so that his head was also resting on the headrest. 

Trevor patiently waited until you opened your eyes, turning to him with a soft smile. “You ready?” you ask him, as you start to unbuckle your seatbelt. As you grab your purse from the back, your hand on the door handle. His hand that was on your thigh is gone and immediately pulls you by the wrist back into your seat. As he takes his other hand and gently places it on your cheek forcing you to look at him. 

“Can we talk about it?” His voice was steady, calm, confident but soft, almost as if he was scared of your reaction. 

Smiling a little wider now, in a split second you try to decide what you want to do. Do you want to tell a boy who you’ve only been casually talking to and hanging out with a handful of times - one of them being this current moment - about being dyslexic. Although it’s not that big of a deal in retrospect, it’s something that you can never take back once you said the words. Even though it’s something so simple and common no one ever looks at you the same again. Were you ready to tell Trevor, and see his face change permanently or did you want to live in ignorant bliss for a little longer. 

“I’m fine, it’s just when I drive somewhere new I like listening to the GPS and not a person telling me directions, it helps me focus better is all.” sheepishly you admit. 

Ignorant Bliss. That’s the choice you made. 

“Okay well next time, can you tell me that so I don’t have to watch you stress yourself out please?” His hand that was on your wrist, going down to your hand playing with your hand. Taking your hand that he was playing with, fully grasping his you squeeze his hand as a silent yes, and nod your head. He leans over the middle console and quickly peaks your lips as if it was a last minute impulse and he meant the cheek. “Thank you, let's go inside.” 

—-------------------------------

Living in ignorant bliss was great for a few weeks, until you started to actually like Trevor. Talking to a guy for a few months and it not going anywhere vs meeting someone and potentially seeing at least an exclusive relationship with them were two very different things. Knowing that you saw a relationship with him in the future meant it was only a matter of time before he found out that your dyslexic which again isn’t that big of a deal, but the fact that you also lied to him a few weeks ago. Not telling him is one thing, but lying when he asked why you were struggling to drive that day is a completely different act. 

Trying to put off the inevitable you tried to push the thought to the back of your mind. Somehow convincing yourself that if you didn’t think about it, then the problem would disappear he would never find out. I mean when you didn’t know how to spell a word while texting, you just spoke it into your phone. As far as grammar no one really had perfect grammar when texting including Trevor to be perfectly honest he probably didn’t even notice half the time. Plenty of people kept all their devices in dark mode for plenty of reasons, he had no reason to ask, although you did it because it helped your eyes stay focused on the words in front of you, not for the aesthetic. 

Even so, with all of these excuses as to why he wouldn’t notice you failed to remember that certain words you truly can’t pronounce the correct way no matter how hard you try. It all came crashing down tonight when you were at Trevor’s apartment cooking dinner for the both of you. Dinner was almost done at this point, when Trevor came behind you just now re-entering the kitchen after taking an expected call from his little sister. Trevor wrapped his arms around your waist, his head resting on top of your shoulder. 

“Everything okay?” you ask your curiosity getting the best of you, even though you know it’s none of your business. 

“Yeah she’s fine.” Pressing a kiss into where your jawline and neck meet. “smells good.” He compliments your cooking as he teases you one more time with a small nip with his teeth where he just kissed you, before pulling away and resting his head on your shoulder. 

Answering shyly, you let out a “thank you.”

“Anything I can help with?” asking genuinely although you're not sure if it’s to be kind or if it’s because he’s hungry but either way you’ll take it. As he slowly unwraps himself from you, getting ready to help you in any way you need. 

Without looking up from the chicken that you're grilling on the stove, trying to concentrate on the task at hand you answer him. “Yeah actually can you grab out the mellk from the fridge for the mashed potatoes.” Not even thinking twice about what you just said until you heard a chuckle coming from across the kitchen. 

“What babe?” standing in front of a now open fridge, he could have sworn you tried to say milk but botched the word so badly, it couldn’t have possibly been.

“the mellk” finally noticing what you asked for, knowing this is one of the words people can’t help but point out how you butcher it. 

“What are you trying to say?” he asked, truly confused now that he heard it twice. 

“M - il - k “ you repeat slowing down your mouth trying to force yourself to pronounce it properly but also not speak too slowly. Hoping that it's noticeable as you force your tongue to the roof of your mouth to make the “il” sound.  

A small chuckle leaves Trevor’s lips but it wasn’t a malicious way, it was as if he chuckled because he found it adorable. “Here's the milk baby.” walking back over to you and placing it on the empty counter space next to the bowl of steaming hot cooked potatoes. Taking the chicken off the hot burner you moved to the island to where the potatoes were. 

“Sorry” you mumble as he stands beside you, his hip resting on the side of the island. 

“For what?” His eyebrows frowned, his eyes focused the side of your face the only thing he could see. Focusing on the task at hand, you used the potato masher and mashed the potatoes. Opening the milk and adding a little along with some butter that you set out earlier. 

Feeling the rise of some anxiety in your stomach, hoping that you could procrastinate just a little longer on admitting that you didn’t tell him the whole truth. Deciding if now was the time or if you were gonna dig yourself in a bigger hole by wrapping yourself in a thicker web of tiny white lies. 

Finally turning your head to the side to face him and taking a deep breath. 

For good measure making one more deep breath before you barely utter the words, your nerves getting the better of you. “I lied.” 

Trevor’s face immediately changed from confusion and concern. In an instant it became shocking and almost hurt, that the girl he thought was actually going somewhere a month in, is admitting to lying to him. Not when he told her in the beginning that lying wasn’t something he tolerated after his ex lied to him for months and manipulated him. Not when he just told his little sister not even ten minutes ago on the phone that tonight he was gonna ask you to be his official girlfriend. “What are you talking about?” his voice cracking before he could even get the word out, quickly clearing his throat to cover up his own insecurities about the possible tension that could slowly be felt brewing in his kitchen. 

“Remember a few weeks, when I was driving you to your apartment from the stad-” 

“What the FUCK does that have to do with lying to me? When did you lie to me Y/N” Not only has Trevor never once raised his voice at you in a not joking way, but he’s never cursed at you, and his tone made you close your eyes and flinch at the impact. Immediately, seeing you flinch he sighed his hand going to lightly crease her arm closest to him. “When did you lie?” asking at a much softer tone than moments before. 

“I’m trying to explain.” Trevor could have sworn he felt his chest hurt when he heard you struggling to speak, as if you were trying to get yourself not to cry. “Please let me explain.” 

“Okay” he softly let out, as he squeezed your arm not sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself as he felt the possibility of you slipping through his fingers. 

“A few weeks ago when I drove you home.” finally turning her body fully turning to face him. “I lied, When you asked me what happened. I told you I need the GPS because I get overwhelmed.” Pausing to make sure that Trevor was following along, he nodded along, “I lied, sort of,” your voice picking up in speed with each word you uttered out  “I mean I do get overwhelmed while driving but it’s not because of that it’s not that I” 

“Baby please take a breath you're scaring me” His other arm is going to cup your cheek, even though he was mad before as he heard you fixated on driving him home a few weeks ago. He knew it couldn’t have possibly been any of the terrible ideas that popped into his head, at least Trevor hoped not.

 “I sometimes get my left and right confused.” Looking up trying to gauge his reaction, watching as one of his eyebrows go down, as if to say ‘that’s all.’ 

“Okay. So that was the lie? Everyone gets confused sometimes and makes mistakes baby it’s okay” His famous smile slowly takes over his face. 

“That’s the thing is it isn’t sometimes, it’s kind of a lot when I’m driving when someone is giving me directions without pointing, and there are other things too. I mean they're small but they still affect me almost daily and I just.” 

Deciding to take a breath because if you don’t you will be more likely to trip up your words or stutter. “I’m dyslexic and it’s not really how they describe the movies.” 

His smile dropped a little and you swear it felt as if your heart felt as if it had just dropped a hundred flights down the Empire State building. “Dyslexic. Like you mix up letters when reading?”

“Yeah but it’s more than that.”

“Okay. But why didn’t you tell me when it happened? Why did you say it’s because you get overwhelmed.” 

“Because I do get overwhelmed when I make dumb mistakes like that. Plus, everytime I tell someone they never look at me the same. A lot of times they are shocked, and they also sometimes judge me because how does it not affect me the way the media portrays it? Why do I mispronounce words, why can’t I tell my left and right when someone gives me a direction, why I can’t read maps to save my fucking life but yet if I don’t have my GPS running I’m bound to a wrong turn, why does sometimes my mind decide I either can’t come up with a word at all or I can physically see it but I can’t say it and I can’t spell it because I’m such a bad speller.” 

“Shhh” not trying to cut you off but also trying to get you to breathe. “So you didn’t tell me cause you were scared I would look at you differently? Or judge you when something you can’t control comes out at random times of the day? That’s why you told me to point instead of just saying it because you didn’t wanna tell me in fear?” Not sure his tone is showing remorse for you thinking that at all or hurting that you ever would think of him in that way. 

“Yeah.” you embarrassingly admit.

Trevor spent the rest of the night listening to you and how your brain was different due to your own personal experience with being a dyslexic. The next morning you found him reading an article about the effects of different lighting and how dark mode was the best for dyslexics and certain fonts were better than others. It made you chuckle as you told him you knew and that’s why your phone was permanently in dark mode.  That day, he changed all the settings on his tv’s in his entire apartment for dark mode, even all of his own personal devices. Finding it adorable that he went on a tangent when he found out certain apps don’t support dark mode and how he said it was discriminating. Finding it harder and harder for yourself to hide your soft smile as you watched him continue his rant, your heart swelling at how passionate he sounded. 

“I really like you, you know.” you admitted when he finally stopped complaining about how Mirosoft finally started supporting dark mode it was still ‘white paper’ on black ink so they really missed the whole point. 

“Oh yeah.” as he grabs you, pulling you towards him on the couch, tangling your legs with his. 

“Yup” popping the p for emphasis.

“I really like you too. Actually I was gonna ask you.. Wanna make this official and let me call you mine.” The blush was obvious on your face, immediately turning a light red shade, nodding your head he pulled you into a soft kiss. 

—---------------------------------------------

A few weeks later you were out to dinner with a few close friends and Trevor. Currently trying to tell a story about one of your new coworkers and how you didn’t like him but mid sentence you froze. Trevor had yet to see you freeze because the word you planned to say completely escaped you. Of course this wasn’t new to your friends as they saw the familiar signs, the way in which you paused, your lips pursed in a questioning way, your hand coming up and shaking knowing it was on the tip of your tongue and you just couldn’t think of it or couldn’t pronounce it. 

What your friends weren’t used to was seeing Trevor respond to it. His response to you struggling made all of them share a glance in approval of his small action. He took your shaking hand and slipped it into his own. Immediately your small flustered expression on your face turns to him. Your friends couldn’t hear what you were saying between yourselves if you were even talking at all, but they could see the care in Trevors eyes and how your frustration seemed to melt away.

“Hi” he whispers only for you to hear after a couple seconds pass. 

A smile breaks out on your face. “Hi” 

“What are you trying to say?” repeating the same sentence that he asked you weeks ago when you asked him to get the milk out the fridge. 

“I can’t think of it.” a sigh leaving your lips. 

“Describe it.” His forehead resting on yours as you look into his eyes. 

“You know, like a red flag.” 

“Like in dating? So a slang term?” 

“I think.” Pausing for a few seconds for your brian to catch up. “But I know it’s not called a red flag, but it’s like it, I think, like when someone does something and immediately you're like ew.” 

“An ick?” he softly suggests. Immediately your mouth forms into an o-shape in shock, making his mouth twitch into the slightest smile. Kissing his check quickly and whispering a quick ‘thanks’ and turning back to your friends. 

“Okay so like this new dude thinks he can come in and just boss all me and my other co-workers around. That’s not even the worst part like not only is he lowkey sexist, he literally only wears highwaters, immediate ick…” Trevor sat there half listening to your story with a huge smile on his face, hand on your thigh drawing patterns subconsciously as he sipped on his drink. He loves listening to you talk, how you get lost in telling stories and he’s happy he was able to help you instead of you pushing it to the side like you did all those months ago. 

That’s how it is from that night on, anytime you text him and he can’t understand it, or you can’t think of a word, or butcher the pronunciation; he will simply turn to you and ask “What are you trying to say?” 

[puck-luck]

give him six | trevor zegras

warnings: extreme domination. EXTREME domination. daddy kink because i do what i want. edging. spanking. cockwarming. at the same time. don’t worry about it. i do what i want. HINTS of anal play but they don’t actually do it. derogatory language (name calling…). crying during sex. sorry! spit kink. had to be done. subspace! ugh need a man to put me in that BAD bad pairing: trevor zegras x fem!reader summary/request: “thinking about trevor zegras needing to fuck his gf roughly after a tough game to let out his frustration bc i can sooooo see him being into that. but he’d always be looking out for u too, saying to tell him if it hurts and checking in to ask if she’s ok, but as soon as she assures him she is he’s just going absolutely nuts not holding back 🫠” wc: 4109

You don’t have to look at Trevor to see how angry he is. He lost a few weeks of hockey due to his broken ankle and now he was back– but he couldn’t make a fucking goal in a shootout to get the win for his team? The worst part was that his shot was denied not by the goalie, but by the post. By the fucking post. 

Trevor loves to flaunt his accuracy in the backyard, in the practice rink, even when tossing trash into the garbage bin, but the one time he doesn’t mean to hit the post, the puck does? It’s idiocracy. It’s humiliating. He’s better than this. He knows it, you know it, the whole world knows it. But St. Louis got to celebrate tonight, and maybe if he hadn’t hit the damn post, then he’d be celebrating with his teammates instead of stewing in your bed. 

His arms are crossed over his chest and the TV isn’t even on– you join him and want to laugh at the image of your pouty boyfriend wallowing in silence. You climb under the covers with Trevor. 

“You did really well, Trev,” you compliment, settling into the mattress.

“We should’ve won,” he replies.

You sigh. “You can’t win them all.”

Trevor scoffs. “Yeah, well, we could’ve won this one,” he snaps.

You stare at him for a moment while his tone really sets in. “You don’t have to talk to me like that,” you say, your voice growing cold. “I wasn’t out on the ice with you.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He, at least, sounds the part. He covers his face with his hands, the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes. “I just– I’m so mad.”

You take a deep breath. You don’t have to be at work until 9 and it’s about five minutes away if you leave on time. You have to do the laundry tomorrow afternoon anyway. Trevor would feel better if you did this. You really wanted to sleep after the game tonight, but it would be a lie if you said you didn’t want to make him feel better. Another deep breath.

“Why don’t you take it out on me?” You ask.

Trevor looks over at you, surprise written all over his features. “Really?” He asks, like a child who was just told that he could have another candy before bed. “Like last time?”

Last time. You practically start salivating, thinking about how Trevor brought you to the edge and ripped you away from the cliff time after time, until you were sobbing and screaming and begging for a release. 

“Yeah, like last time,” you agree, already a little absent. Trevor notices, of course he does, he’s more in tune with your body than you are at this rate.

A smile tugs on the corner of Trevor’s lips, but he ignores it.

“Hands and knees,” Trevor says. “Right in front of me.”

You position yourself accordingly.

Trevor smooths a hand over your behind, your shirt riding up and exposing your skin due to the position you’re in. You hadn’t worn anything else to bed– why would you? You and Trevor had been together for ages and you weren’t exactly new to his… post-loss coping mechanisms. 

“Elbows,” Trevor corrects. His cock twitches when you immediately drop to your elbows, no hesitation in your movements. You’re silent, like he wants when you play like this, and you’ll do anything he says. You’re gorgeous like this, all spread out and listening to him with your head forward like a good girl, waiting for your next instruction.

You hear his voice over the thumping of your heart, although you’re not sure how. You’re always finding Trevor in the mess of everything. 

“Bite the sheets,” Trevor commands, shimmying out of his boxers. You can hear him moving and you take the bedsheets in your mouth, the fabric almost immediately saturating with your saliva. “Close your eyes.” You slide your eyes shut and wait, your shaky breath filling the room and heating your face.

Something warm probes at your entrance and for a moment, you can’t tell if it’s Trevor’s fingers or his cock. The answer comes to you via a sharp spank on your left cheek, with Trevor’s left hand. He always fingers you with his left hand so that he can keep his right around your neck– the hand that’s currently kneading your other cheek. 

He pushes his cock into you slowly, the movement more like he’s pulling you back than pushing you forward. 

“Six shots,” Trevor muses, watching his cock disappear into you. “Six shots, and I didn’t make one.”

You bite back the reassurance, swallowing it. Trevor doesn’t want to hear it.

“Do you know how that feels?”

You don’t answer. He still doesn’t want to hear it.

“I’ll show you,” Trevor promises, his voice deceptively soft. His hand rests against your skin, heavy and present. 

You get lost in the feeling easily, your mouth full of the comforter and your fingers twisted in the top sheet. Your eyes stay closed, the red-tinged darkness grounding you. 

“Yeah, I’ll show you,” he repeats, his voice darker this time. “You’re going to understand exactly what it feels like to come so close six times, just for all of that to be taken away from you.”

Your eyes open at his words and you pale. You spit the covers out and break your silence. “Six times?” You ask, incredulous. “Trev.”

“Daddy,” Trevor corrects with a spank. “Unless that’s… not what we’re doing tonight?”

You clench down on his length at the contact and the name, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sound of his voice. Trevor is playing with you, teasing you. His fingers are walking all over you– the small of your back, your cheeks, down your crack all the way to where he’s buried inside of you… and it’s distracting.

You find yourself nodding. “It is.”

“Good,” Trevor says. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make the second and third ones quick, okay?”

His voice is full of condescension, like he knows you’re going to lose track of everything as soon as he starts hitting you. He’s right, but that’s neither here nor there.

For as long as you’d been dating Trevor, you’d never seen him tap into the mindset that he has on the ice off the ice. However, when he’s bringing his hand down on your ass, he gets pretty damn close.

His spanks are precise and powerful. He’s leaving pink handprints all over your skin, from the fleshy parts of your ass to the top of your thighs, even a few falls over the hole that he’s not occupying. Each flash of his hand leaves your skin burning and your hips inching upwards, begging for more. All of this, and he’s still inside you– the torture of the spanking is that he isn’t moving, and you’re not supposed to.

You lose track of the count, feeling your stomach flip with each slap. What starts as stinging pain turns into aching pleasure, and the sensations aren’t lost on Trevor.

He feels you jolt each time he brings his hand down on your skin, the clench of your pussy around his cock, the pounding of your pulse from inside of you. Trevor smirks and shifts his hips forward as he brings his hand down, his hand making contact with your asshole just as his tip nudges against your g-spot.

You wail, lurching under Trevor’s watchful eye. You fuck back on his cock once, only managing the movement one measly time, before Trevor stills you with a hand and slides out of you.

“No,” you breathe out, voice muffled by your makeshift gag. 

“Yes,” Trevor replies, smug. “Isn’t it frustrating?”

You glare at him, turning so he can see the look on your face.

All it does is make him laugh. “Well, now I have to really punish you, don’t I?” He asks. “I can’t have my baby making angry faces at me.”

Trevor taps your hip, wordlessly telling you to move. You resume your original position next to him, expecting Trevor to tell you to put your “pretty little hand” on his cock and jerk him until he comes all over your freshly manicured fingers. 

You don’t expect him to slide under the covers and hike up your shirt until your breasts are exposed. Trevor hooks a leg around yours, his mouth exhaling warm air onto your nipple. His fingers tap at your skin, one hand on your side and the other on your mound, making its way south. 

“We’re going to do four like this,” Trevor tells you. His voice is merely a whisper, crawling over in your skin and raising goosebumps in its wake. “Just like this. I’m gonna take one,” he breathes, catching your nipple between his teeth for a split second before continuing. “Right here. Gimme one, baby, just from me licking your tits. I know you can.”

He dives in, tongue first. Your jaw drops as Trevor’s eyes close, the same way you know they do when you kiss him. It’s surreal, seeing him kiss and lick over your skin the way he normally does over your lips. His eyelashes flutter, the long, dark pieces of hair stealing your train of thought. 

Trevor surprises you with how quickly he brings you to the edge again. He promised that the second and third would be quick, but you didn’t know just how quick he meant.

You let out a strangled gasp and your hand flies to Trevor’s hair when he opens his eyes and lets his adoring gaze fix on your face. You pull him off your chest, heaving breaths filling your lungs. 

Trevor smirks, but it never quite reaches his eyes. The same look burns you, makes you shy under his gaze. You blush and look away, one of your hands covering the redness on your cheeks.

“Good,” Trevor remarks, a mere observation. “You got close, didn’t you, baby?”

You nod, still breathing heavily.

Trevor waits, expectant. He tilts his head down and blinks.

“Yes, Daddy,” you concede. “I was close.”

“Honest girl,” Trevor praises. His fingers dance over your slit. “Love you.”

“Love you,” you parrot back to him. 

Trevor rewards you by pushing one finger into your heat, pumping it in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. 

Your breath stays shaky, your eyes never leaving Trevor’s. His finger drags along your walls, petting the inside of you with its pad, and you swear you can feel the ridges of his fingerprint inside of you if you focus enough. 

It’s hard to focus on that when Trevor’s got his scrutinizing eyes on yours, though.

“What finger is it?” Trevor asks.

“What?” You stammer, finally blinking and breaking the trance. 

Trevor’s other hand flies up to steady your chin before you can look down and ruin his game. “Which finger–” Trevor asks, curling it inside you. “–am I fucking you with?”

Your brain stalls. It’s a no-brainer, really, you should know each of Trevor’s fingers by feel alone with how often they make their way inside of you. However, you’ve been denied two orgasms already and Trevor is close to taking a third from you with just his smug stare.

“Come on,” Trevor goads. “You know which finger this is, baby. The faster you tell me, the faster I get you to your orgasm.”

“Yeah, the faster you take it away,” you reply. 

Trevor’s eyes cloud over and he jams his finger inside you, increasing his pace. “Don’t be a bitch.”

You open your mouth to retort, but Trevor twists his finger inside of you.

“Unless you want me to fuck you like one,” he teases. 

You clench down on Trevor’s finger, his middle finger you realize, when he utters those words.

“You like that?” Trevor asks, unnecessarily. He can feel how you feel about it. “You like the idea of me getting my cock in you and fucking you like a damn animal? What is it, baby? Is it the primal instinct of it all or just the fact that I’m disciplining you like you’re worth less than I am?”

You moan at his words, logical responses and formed sentences too far from you to grasp.

“Tell me.” Trevor nudges your g-spot and you arch your back, your hips grinding against his finger… just for him to draw it out of you. “Not so fast. We’ve still got three more to go.”

“I was close,” you complain.

“So was I,” Trevor counters. “Hurts, doesn’t it? When things don’t work out the way you want them to?” 

“Trevor!” You frown, put off by his game.

“Well, now you’ve really done it,” Trevor growls, shoving two fingers inside of you and resting his thumb on your clit. “You know better than to call me by my name.”

You’re drenched in sweat and slick, so Trevor’s movements aren’t hindered in the slightest, not even when you squeeze your thighs shut. All Trevor does is push them open, trap your thigh under his bony knee. Somehow, even though you just had your legs spread, Trevor seems to push in further and rub your clit faster, hitting every right spot in alternating movements: clit, then g-spot, clit, then g-spot again. And over and over.

You don’t warn him this time, you don’t pull away. You try not to clench down, you try not to rock your hips, you try anything that might get you real relief from a real orgasm without Trevor noticing.

But it’s also a futile effort because your boyfriend knows you that well.

He withdraws his fingers just as your legs, the traitors, begin to tremble.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t think you’d get away with that, did you?” Trevor teases.

“Please,” you beg. “Please, Daddy.”

Trevor’s eyes flash with approval and he teases your entrance again, this time with a third finger. “Don’t worry,” he coos. “We’ve only got two more. Then I’ll let you come.”

You choke on your own spit when Trevor buries his three fingers inside of you, all in one motion. He doesn’t dawdle or stall for time. He doesn’t take advantage of the situation at hand– that you were already shaking for him and a pump of his fingers would give you away to the pleasure just on the other side of your approaching peak.

No, he doesn’t pump his fingers. He just wiggles them as deep as he can get them and smirks before dropping a kiss on your lips. He lowers himself then and blows cool air on your clit, spreading your folds with his other hand so the full bundle of nerves is revealed to him. He leans in and captures it with his tongue, lightly sucking on the bundle. It’s not the most friction he’s ever given you, but it’s consistent. He builds you up on his tongue, slowly, so slowly. 

And when your thighs close around his head, he stops. You’re aching for a release, tears building along your waterline. Your refractory period is shrinking with each near-orgasm, your babbles begging for Trevor to do something.

“I need it,” you beg, but the words feel more like a scream with how heavy they sit on your chest. 

“Oh, I know you need it,” Trevor replies, tone mocking. “You need it so bad, you’re acting up. Talking back, not using my name, not answering my questions, trying to trick me so that you can get an orgasm. I ought to leave you like this, really show you what it’s like to be left frustrated after a disappointing performance.”

“No,” you whimper. “No, Trevor, that’s too much.”

It’s not your word, it’s not a cry of pain, but it still gives Trevor pause. 

“Need me to be sweet to you?” Trevor asks, his eyes genuine and his hair wild from your wandering grasp.

You whine, arching your back. Trevor smiles fondly, but bats you away. When your back makes contact with the mattress again, Trevor’s deft fingers pinch your nipple and cause you to arch up a second time. He pushes you back down.

“Slut,” Trevor chastises. “Think you can distract me with your tits? This isn’t amateur hour, baby. I’ve still got to steal one orgasm from you.”

You blanch at that, your eyes wide. You take in every detail of his face, panting. There isn’t anything you could say that could stop him, except your word, but you’d rather curl into a ball and die than stop this right now. The words don’t come to you to tell him to continue, though.

“I’m going to get you so close,” Trevor whispers, his face close to yours. He leans down and kisses your neck. You arch into him, your once-useless hands finding his sides. You feel over the muscle there, his lean waist and strong chest. “You’re going to be right there, baby, and then I’m going to take it all away.”

“Please,” you repeat, but it’s indecipherable whether you’re begging Trevor to let you come or begging Trevor to leave you wanting more.

“Yeah,” Trevor agrees, sliding his three fingers back into your wet cunt. 

You moan sharply at the intrusion, pumping deep into you this time and dragging along your walls in a torturous way. It feels so good, it has you seeing white specks when you manage to open your eyes and look at Trevor. His eyes are trained on your cunt, watching your wetness seep all over his fingers. When you push his hair out of his face, his eyes lift to meet yours. 

His pupils are blown wide with lust and he’s got a snarl rumbling from deep in his chest. It is primal, you realize, the way he’s bullying his fingers into your cunt without a thought about what you can or can’t handle. He’s taking you, the way that you’ll only ever allow him to do.

“Gonna come?” Trevor asks, the evil smirk overtaking his face again.

“Please,” you beg again.

“‘Please,’” Trevor mocks. “Is that the only word you know?”

He pulses his hand, his fingers bouncing off your walls and causing you to jolt and scramble to find something to hold onto. That something ends up being Trevor’s hair and the pillow to your side. Your chest is heaving again, your nipples taut and pointed and begging to be touched. 

As Trevor’s eyes trail down your body at a snail’s pace, you can feel your orgasm approaching. You yank his hair and he winces, bringing his hand to your neck and squeezing in retaliation.

“Daddy,” you wheeze, the edge of your vision growing fuzzy and dark. It’s the only warning you can give Trevor as the cliff starts to crumble below you, as you start to fall away into the orgasm that was denied from you for so long.

And when Trevor pulls his fingers out of you, he yanks you back onto solid ground.

And, unsurprisingly, you start to cry.

It’s not pretty, either. It’s not a tear here and there when you’re deepthroating your boyfriend, or the beautiful running of mascara as he fucks your face at some hockey event. No, this is full-on sobbing, gut-wrenching cries that have Trevor taking inventory of all the things he did to you, wondering if he pushed you too far. He rubs your thighs with both of his hands in a soothing motion, ignoring the glistening precum that he’s inadvertently rubbing into your skin. 

“Baby,” Trevor murmurs. 

You sob and raise your arms, needing him to hold you. Trevor’s face softens immediately and he pulls you into his chest, turning so he’s sitting with his back against the headboard and you’re awkwardly dangling half on his lap, half off. You keen into his neck, burying your face in his soft, tan skin.

“My girl,” Trevor whispers, rubbing your arms now and pulling you closer to him, comforting you with his warmth. “You’re perfect.”

“Daddy,” you whisper into his neck. “Please.”

Trevor tilts your head back and looks into your eyes. His gaze looks sad, meeting your own, red and puffy. “Please what, baby?”

“I need your cock,” You plead, petting over his stomach with a hand that feels like its made of static. “I need you to make me come, Daddy.”

Trevor groans, sounding pained. He twitches beneath you. “Like this?” He asks.

You nod, losing your words again. It’s a timid but vehement nod, needing Trevor to press inside you more than anything, but not knowing if you could handle another ruined orgasm.

“Please, let me come this time,” you say, trying to look as pathetic and needy as you can. With big doe eyes like this, Trevor has always been bad at denying you the things you want. 

“Yeah, I think I’ve tortured you enough,” Trevor agrees, reaching under you and pressing his cockhead against your entrance. “Give me a bounce, baby. Wanna see your tits jump in front of my face, yeah?”

Trevor snakes his hands around to grab your bottom, his fingers tight against the skin. He uses his leverage to bounce you for him, knowing that you don’t have control over your movements as fucked out as you are, and he’d hate to see you cry more because you’re mad at yourself for not moving the way he wanted you to.

He lifts you up and down, snapping his hips up to meet yours when they fall. His eyes flicker between your boobs and your face, the teartracks drying over your cheeks as you allow yourself to be consumed by ecstasy. One of Trevor’s hands flies upward, tracing over your skin until he threads it between the strands of your hair. Once his whole hand is enveloped in your roots, he tugs and your mouth falls open.

Trevor leans forward and directs a glob of spit down your throat, his forceful hawk causing his spit to find the back of your throat. 

You convulse on top of him, trembling under his watchful gaze and his warm cock. “Daddy,” you pant, feeling like you’re burning and drowning in your desire for him. Trevor slips his thumb into your mouth as you come and you suck on it like a child, grinding against him through your aftershocks.

You’re floating on air by the time your aftershocks cease and Trevor pulls out of you gently, grasping his cock in his fist. He’s watching you and you’re watching him. Never breaking eye contact, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out.

Trevor presses his tip to your tongue and strokes his cock, squeezing on the downstroke and groaning curses with each turn of his hand. He comes just seconds later, his white ropes of come gracing your tastebuds. He pulls away after only a few drops intersect with your tongue, continuing to come in spurts over your cheeks, lips, and nose. A bit of come drips down the tip of your nose and you poke your tongue out again to try and catch it, which makes Trevor laugh.

Still lost in your post-orgasm haze, you barely notice when Trevor leaves the bed and comes back with a moist towel. He wipes your face, then your thighs and pussy, dropping a kiss on your lower belly after he’s finished. You let out a breath at that, not knowing that you were holding it, astounded by the fragility and intimacy of the moment.

“Daddy,” you say out loud, mostly just to yourself. Mostly just to feel the word on your tongue, feel it take its shape in your mouth. It sounds like awe.

Trevor deposits the towel in the hamper across the room with a toss, proving yet again that his precision and accuracy are off the charts most of the time. He crowds your space, tracing your features with his delicate pinky. “Did Daddy make you feel good, baby?” Trevor asks. “You made Daddy feel good.”

You whine at that and almost want to cry again at the praise. All the time you spent wondering if you were good enough, if you’d ever get a boyfriend who loved you and stayed with you was worth it when you found Trevor. He always said the right things, made you feel things you’d never felt before. 

“I love you,” you say.

Trevor slips his thumb into your mouth, watching your eyes close in bliss as he presses it against your tongue. You can still taste where he was rubbing your pussy with this digit.

“I love you,” he replies, voice soft. His voice sounds like awe, too.

note: small town girl chapter 1 next! (hopefully)

[pepsiboyy]

omg you need to do a matt version of the sleepy chris fic

IN THE QUIET HOURS.

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader summary: where matt can't wait any longer for you to join him. warnings: use of y/n lol, tooth rotting flufffff a/n: this one is so cute i hope u love it! thanks for the request!!

a dramatic gasp, quickly followed by a devastated whine left matt's lips as you turned to see trevor, their dog, trotting out the door.

you smiled softly and shook your head.

matt had taken you with him to this visit in boston. it wasn't your first time being there, but you loved every part of it whenever you got to go. something about the way it felt like home while being so unfamiliar truly made your heart warm.

matt loved taking you places that he had stories to match with, and taking you to places to make new memories with you.

you guys had been in boston with his brothers for about a week now, and it was a bit exhausting now. thankfully, today was a chill day after the many days of matt taking you places with the occasional chris and nick to join you both.

you were currently folding clothes, not really sure why, but you were. folding up matt's shirts, his pants, his hoodies, and some of your own clothing items as well.

matt stared at you in disbelief after his furry companion had left him to go sleep on the couch in the living room. "are you just gonna stand there or what?" he was clearly joking, but his tone was laced with sleepiness and a bit of sass.

you scoffed as you set down the last shirt and turned to him. "just finishing up." you responded with a hint of sarcasm, but the smile on your lips was audible in your tone.

you took some of the folded items and put them into their designated drawers, before you heard matt speak up again.

"seriously, y/n, it's late. you don't have to do all of that. i can do it in the morning." he mumbled as he watched you.

with a soft hum, you stood up and ran your fingers through your hair triumphantly. "you do everything for your brothers back in la. least i can do is give you a bit of a break back home."

matt didn't respond and instead held his arms out for you to lay beside him, to which you complied after shutting off the bedside lamp that had been on for god knows how long now.

matt pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you and a hand gently tucking underneath your shirt for his fingers to draw circles against your hip.

you chuckled softly as your own hands moved to graze his face, to which matt's face morphed into one of annoyance. "can we just sleep?"

you gasped, smiling softly. "god, you always get so bossy when you're sleepy."

"not bossy..." matt started, his eyes closing as his voice grew groggier. he leaned forward to press his face into your neck now, his arms scooping you closer to him. "...just missing you."

you smiled warmly at the way his voice softened at this, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

matt slowly dozed off, his body rising and falling with each soft breath he took.

and with the sound of his breathing and the comfort of him beside you, you couldn't help but doze off with him.

taglist;; @sturnsxplr-25 @vampiree-555 @wh0resstuff @jetaimevous @sturnioloshacker

[smoshyourheadin]

idea!!!

the cast/crew meeting spencer’s partner for the first time everyone thinks she isn’t real and all that

Disbeleif

pairing: spencer agnew x f!reader

a/n: anon i love this concept SO MUCH!!! also i tried a 3rd person instead of 2nd person perspective for this fic so there is a bunch of use of y/n,,lmk what u think!! also sorry for the slow posting recently i’m almost done w my exams so hopefully more content otw!! thank you all so much for ur support, it means the world 🫶🫶

requests are open <33

spencer had been working at smosh for a few years now, and he had always been the quiet one in the corner, headphones on, immersed in an edit or a video game. everyone knew he was brilliant, but they never saw much of him outside of work. that changed the day he mentioned his girlfriend, y/n.

“wait, spencer, you have a girlfriend?” shayne, his closest colleague, said with a mix of surprise and skepticism.

“don’t sound so surprised! but yeah, she’s amazing,” he replied, a shy smile on his face. “she’s actually cooking dinner tonight. you guys should come over!”

the disbelief was palpable. everyone in the office exchanged glances, clearly doubting spencer’s story. but out of curiosity and the lure of a home-cooked meal, they accepted the invitation.

that evening, spencer’s apartment was a flurry of activity. y/n, a stunning woman with bright eyes and a warm smile, was bustling around the kitchen. she wore a casual dress and an plaid apron, her hair tied back in a high ponytail.

as the doorbell rang, spencer went to answer it, his nerves fluttering. He opened the door to shayne, courtney, amanda, and a couple of others from work.

“welcome welcome, come in!” he said, stepping aside. his friends walked in, their eyes widening at the sight of y/n.

“hi there! I’m y/n. dinner will be ready soon,” she greeted them, her voice cheerful and inviting. her smile was genuine, putting everyone at ease immediately.

“OH MY GOD,” angela shouted “spencer can bring her home she’s so pretty!”

amanda smacked her shoulder as they walked in, giving y/n an apologetic look. all she could do was smile in flattery.

as they settled into the living room, everyone couldn’t help but admire the cozy space filled with gaming consoles, posters of classic video games, and shelves lined with sci-fi novels and collectibles, which trevor and alex were studying in great detail whilst they were waiting for their food.

“wow, he really does have a girlfriend,” courtney whispered to shayne, who nodded, equally astonished.

when dinner was finally served, y/n’s culinary skills shone. the table was laden with a variety of dishes, each one smelling more delicious than the last. they all sat down, and as they started eating, the conversation flowed easily.

“so, spencer tells me you’re all big fans of gaming,” y/n said, looking around the table with a twinkle in her eye. “what’s everyone’s favorite game?”

and just like that, the ice was broken. they spent the evening discussing their favorite games, from childhood ones to the latest releases. to everyone’s surprise, y/n not only kept up, but shared detailed insights and strategies, revealing her deep knowledge and passion for gaming.

“you’re really into this stuff too?” ian asked, clearly impressed.

y/n laughed. “oh, absolutely. spence and i met at a gaming convention. he saw me playing qbert and he came up to me, and we bonded over our love for retro games.”

as the night went on, it became clear that y/n wasn’t just beautiful and kind, but also just as nerdy and passionate about gaming as spencer. she fit perfectly into his world, and he into hers.

by the end of the evening, any doubts about spencer’s relationship were completely dispelled. as his coworkers left, each one thanked y/n for the amazing dinner and the great company.

“thanks for having us, spencer. and y/n, you’re an angel! we should do this again,” anthony said, clapping spencer on the back.

spencer smiled, his shyness melting away. “yeah, we should. thanks for coming, guys.”

as the door closed behind them, spencer turned to y/n, who was busy cleaning up.

“thank you for tonight,” he said softly. “you were amazing.”

y/n smiled, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “anytime, lovebug. i love surprising people.”

and surprise them, she had. everyone at smosh wouldn’t stop talking about her. the slack messages were filled with praise for her cooking, and they realized that their shy, nerdy pal had found someone truly special.

[goldfades]

ok LOVED ur blurb about trevor’s gf giving him head for the first time it’s doing something to me bless the anon that requested that 😵‍💫

can u write a similar one where it’s her first time giving head but maybe it’s just slightly softer, like she’s nervous and he literally talks her through what to do (“want me to teach you?” or something like that). he still has a dirty mouth tho hehe

OFC BABE, trevor is a sweetie at heart

─ warnings | NSFW! read at your own discretion!! soft trevor (for the most part), praise, slight dacryphilia???? but not really????? (big word for me lol HAHAH)

your hands slowly gripped trevor's cock, your nervous expression not going unnoticed by your boyfriend. trevor's gaze never left you as you did, his heart swelling with affection for you.

"it's okay, baby. relax for me, can you do that?" his voice came out softer than usual but it helped calm your nerves as you gave him a smile.

you gave him a nod but his eyebrows raised, wanting a verbal response from you. "yeah,"

"yeah? good girl. now just take me, as slow as you want." trevor slowly explained as you did as you were told. your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, his tip feeling heavy on your tongue.

"fuck, baby." trevor's head fell back in pleasure as he let out a sigh. "so good for me, huh, princess?"

you tried to adjust to the feeling of his cock in your mouth, feeling your eyes sting with tears. but you weren't gonna lying, seeing him so fucked out already made you feel so powerful ─ you had him so down bad with a swipe of your tongue.

"fuck, baby. use your tongue, sweetheart." he moaned breathlessly as he tried to keep his gaze at you. you began licking up and down his shaft, feeling him in all his glory. "yeah, fuck. just like that, keep going."

his hand slid down to grip your hair before letting out a groan. "shit, can you take all of me now?"

it wasn't just an affirmation, it was a genuine question. he didn't want you to feel pressured to do anything, his gaze was adoring as he looked down at you.

you gave him a nod as you wrapped your mouth on his cock, slowly taking him in deeper. trevor let out a groan, a string of curses coming from his mouth as he felt the warmness of your mouth.

"yeah, just like that. fuck, baby you feel so fucking good." he rambled on as his head fell back in utter pleasure, his eyes shutting. his grip was still tight on your hair but you couldn't care less, making him feel so good made you feel good in return.

you bobbed your head up and down his cock, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat as you gagged. but you kept it up until you felt his grip tighten and then pull you off.

"please," you whimpered breathlessly. "i can swallow, promise."

trevor let out a cocky laugh as he heard your pathetic whines, his cock got harder at the thought. "shit, you sure?"

all he needed was a feeble nod and his cock was back in your throat, your head bobbing up and down subconsciously at this point. and as quickly as you got back inside of your mouth, he was cumming with a loud groan.

you tasted the salty taste of his cum and you moaned as you swallowed as much as you could. trevor wanted to pull out his phone and take a picture of you, you looked so fucking hot with your fucked out expression, spit on your cheeks and chin and especially the tears running down your face.

"fuck, baby. you were so good." trevor praised as he gripped your cheeks and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. "so good for me, baby."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[luvhughes43]

love at first sight | jamie drysdale

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌷]

request: jamie x hughes reader plz! :)

summary: you quickly fall for the looks of one of your brothers friends… friend.

note: this is very silly but i hope u guys like it!

word count: 0.5k

early june 

summers at your brother's lake house were all the same. 6 foot tall boys would flock to the house in droves, staying for weeks at a time under the guise of training when really they hung around the house playing pool and lounging on the boat. 

therefore, when your brothers friend trevor zegras said that he invited one of his friends to the house for a few weeks, you paid absolutely no mind to his statement. 

that was until you were bikini-clad on the boat - which was rocking each time a new hockey boy jumped on - that you became aware of said friend. 

you looked up from your book and to yours and everyone's surprise, you gasped. the dark haired man you had never seen before was standing a little ways away from you - shirtless. looking… well hot!

“did you just gasp?” trevor asked, not one to miss anything. 

“i-” you start, but are immediately cut off when trevor's friend catches your eye. bright blue met yours, and wow… jamie smiles at you awkwardly, not catching onto your reaction to his… physique. his awkward smile causes giggles to bubble up your throat and you quickly bring your hands up to your mouth to try and mask your smiles. 

“way to go jimmy! made her speechless!” trevor jokes, slapping jamie on the back who stumbles forward. 

“what’s going on?” jack asks, holding a heavy cooler in his hands. 

“it seems your sister has a little crus-”

“no i don’t!” you shout when you finally get yourself together. you shoot an almost pleading look to trevor - silently begging him to keep his mouth shut. so what if you thought jamie was insanely attractive! with all the men that were invited over to the house there was sure to be one that would catch your attention. 

your eyes shoot to jamie next, who was awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot. “well like… you are hot don’t get me wrong!” you try to amend your words but it all comes out wrong. 

luke groans loudly. 

“...thanks?” jamie says, his face flushing at all the newfound attention. 

trevor whistles annoyingly high pitched. “she’s never reacted that way to anybody. like she literally giggled when she saw you” trevors eyes crinkle as he speaks, one of his tell-tale signs that he’s about to either burst out into laughter or say something wildly inappropriate. 

possibility number two isn't acceptable and so you rush, “i’m sorry! you’re just soo…” you break out into a fit of giggles again, this time unable to stop. 

“there’s no damn way…” jack speaks up again, looking between his sister and jamie. “she’s usually normal,” jack turns to jamie who has a wide smile plastered across his face. 

“It’s okay, i think she’s pretty cute too,” jamie speaks smoothly and you swear your heart stops. luke groans again, and trevor falls into another fit of giggles. 

after the awkward–semi cute meeting, you and jamie spend the rest of the day getting to know each other. aside from your attraction to each other, you guys have a lot in common and by the end of the summer you guys are an exclusive couple. 

end of august

ynhughes

liked by jamie.drysdale, trevorzegras, jackhughes, and 12 892 others

ynhughes it’s been an interesting summer for sure🌊💐

tagged: jamie.drysdale, _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, and 3 others

view all comments

trevorzegras call me mr. matchmaker👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

jackhughes nobodys calling you that

trevorzegras HATER!! BOOO👎🍅

jamie.drysdale the best summer❤️

bestie love this for u

lhughes_06 yuck

colecaufield 😎😎

user1 JIMMY????

user2 yn hughes and jamie drysdale…. ohh we won

user3 they’re so cute wtff

user4 yn looking hot as always

user5 THAT PIC OF JAMIE??? I JUST FELL TO MY KNEES!!!

[dukecollinsbf]

darlin's unempowered friend hcs :3 also masc darlin oc mentioned A LOT! (who's surprised)

his name is trevor o'connor. he's half korean (mom's side) and was born in northern ireland, belfast specifically, before moving to america around the same time that julius (darlin) came to Dahlia, so they quickly became friends because they were both new and had no clue what to do with themselves

he moved away because his mom abandoned him and his dad and his dad, tiernan, didn't really know what to do with himself and moved to america where his brother was. (tiernan is a triplet!) his dad eventually remarried to charlotte and is now extremely happy. trevor loves char!! he has younger siblings from her (that sounds weird? idk how else to word it) and she's overall just one of those mothers that radiate sunshine but does NOT play abt her kids

julius has a bunch of nicknames for him. It went from Trevor to Trev to T to TT (Tee-tee) then titty then Mr. Titty. It's like when you give your dog a nickname and then it escalates into something completely different 

neither of these dudes can walk straight. widawee. like they bump into each other or walk in front of each other and get mad like "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING GOING, WHAT ARE YOU DOING??"

they were both losers... they were both pretty boys, but losers. like if they were extroverts and didn't have interests that were considered "weird" then they probably would've been more popular in school

before moving to america, trevor forgot to break up with the girl he was dating so it looked like he literally just disappeared. one time during lunch at school trevor did a big ol sigh like "SIGHH.... man i miss my gf.." and julius was like WHAT r u even talking about......

one time he buzzed and bleached his hair and julius called him eminem for a week and a half before trevor got mad and made julius dye it silver, and when it grew out he had those like tiny little spikes with dark roots and he thought he was the SHIT (he was.)

allergic to pineapple 

dyslexic

his favourite number is 8. julius' is 7. 

after being attacked by quinn, trevor never blamed julius

julius tried to cook for him when he got discharged from the hospital and trevor was like "what... even is this.." 

he didn't eat it. julius ordered him something and ate his creation himself cus he hates wasting food

monster lover, julius is a redbull lover

trevor is also a WHORE for a dr. pepper

one time when they were 14, they tried feeding a stray dog which lead to julius being bitten HARDDD like this dog held on for dear life. afterwards, they hopped on trevor's bike and went to marie's. halfway there trevor asked if julius was okay and julius was just like "are you serious."

they always argue over shit like soccer vs football, chips vs fries, scone vs biscuit, etc. all julius can say to defend himself is "im not from this country."

once he was caught in a lie and trevor replied with "i have an accent, you don't know what i said."

do not have a srs talk around these two. they'll make eye contact and lose their shit

julius wanted to start a band and trevor was like dude we have literally no friends what are you talking about

they used to cuddle platonically all the time, especially when all the quinn shit was going on

trevor has horrendous handwriting. julius makes fun of him when his own handwriting isnt any better, but he defends himself by saying you can read it and that's all that matters

julius : i made u a friendship bracelet :3

trev; thats gay

julius: ok fuck u damn give me it back

trev: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO PLEAAAAAAAAAASE

trevor has a ginger little cat with one eye who's called pearce 

one time julius and trev's apartment building caught on fire cus of shitty wiring and julius had to sit outside in just baggy sweatpants and trevor was sitting out there on the curb in just underwear and a pair of slippers cus it was like 2am

julius: ur so annoyi-

trevor: UR APARTMENT BURNED DOWN!!!!!

even tho it was his apartment too and they literally lose half their shit to the fire

trevor's little sister made him mad one time and he told her the tooth fairy wasn't real

they worked together for a while and both got fired cus they both have anger issues and were also so unserious. like they'd end up on the floor with laughter mid shift.

he hated david for a long ass time. he'd refer to him as bitch boy. he loved asher tho and thought milo was a little too intimidated for a short guy (sassy man apocalypse.)

he has an eyebrow piercing and a few small tattoos, he's scared of needles but wanted to look cool

he didn't know about magic until he got attacked by quinn and was about to pass out from blood loss and he fully thought it was a hallucination. then julius came to him in the hospital like you'll never believe this...

EVER SINCE THEN, julius has no peace.

werewolf reaction pics. dog jokes. julius' birthday gift after trev found out was a squaky toy and on halloween he dressed up as the most cliche werewolf ever and said he was julius. (creds to aster). he used to call it transforming instead of shifting and julius would be like THATS NOT WHAT ITS CALLEDDDDDDDDDDDDD.

"man, im bored... wanna go play fetch?" "ur hairs getting long... i'll take u to the dog groomers." "do u want a pedigree??"

THIS IS KINDA WHAT TREV LOOKS LIKE!! (awooga booga *hearts pop out of my eyes and my tongue drops out of my mouth and rolls across the grounf like a red carpet)

also this pic (ik it doesn't look like my darlin oc or Trev) is so them

DAMN CAN I YAP!!!

tags - (i lurv u guys)

@achios @aurorialwolf @infinitelovewiithoutfulfilmentt @tgckceo @astrodude-87 @krashkitty @cozy-collins @professionallyyappinabtangst @porters-fangs @n0r

cus u guys eat up my hcs.

[lowkeyrobin]

Platonic Ghostbusters x social media manager! Reader?

oooo hell yeah!! ; thanks for requesting and I hope u enjoy :)

GHOSTBUSTERS ; social media manager

summary ; you run the official ghostbusters social media platforms

warnings ; language

word count ; 746

masterlist

Podcast wanted to run the official Ghostbuster social media's but was quickly turned down at that. They needed someone who could actually be on top of that kind of stuff and whatnot. So, Stanz made a deal with Podcast that they'd get a social media manager, and he could act as their teammate with that, basically. Giving them ideas, giving them video clips and extra details, etcetera.

Most of the others didn't see a real reason for a social media manager, but as long as it wasn't their money.

Trevor offered to just do everything himself, but that was obviously turned down as well. The teens all agreed not to let the adults run the account either. They didn't need millennial - Gen X / Boomer humor flooding the whole account and making them look bad.

And that's where you came in.

surprisingly, Pheobe was the one to find you. she's seriously the most chronically offline person ever so the fact she ever opened Instagram was a miracle in itself

lots of talking back and forth and meeting the original four three ghostbusters to get input, then meeting callie & garry and the teenagers

you actually figured out that you used to be friends with Lucky as well, damn

you had managed social media accounts before, but you'd recently quit a few of those because of labor laws being broken so, yknow

you quickly formed a bond with Lucky, Trevor, and Podcast. you were kind of close in age to all three of them and they were all invested in the public image for the brand

setting the Instagram up was genuinely the funnest thing ever

the four of you were chilling in the living room in the firehouse (since sleepover stuff, pheobe was in her room reading) and you had your laptop in your lap and the three of them over your shoulders

the amount of laughing and cackling got some scolding from callie upstairs

it took everything out of you to not make the first post a video of trevor being soaked in Slimer's slime (which had been recorded by Lucky just by coincidence as they were investigating the attic again)

the first three posts, which were pinned, all lined up to be like a banner kind of logo with the theme song in the back, and they all played the same video, clips of the og ghostbusters and how they grew and then the new ghostbusters

the tiktok is its own thing, you allowed trev, lucky, podcast (and pheobe) to run it, but everything had to be ran by you first because pr shit

but thankfully no boomer humor or slang is ever being put on those accounts

most of those people don't even know wtf the internet is anyways lol

stanz has a personal vendetta against you /hj after you posted a .5 of him for relatable promo. he had no idea what you were doing but it was criminal that you made his forehead look so much more bigger than it already was

Winston gives you a bunch of old pics to post to trending angst sounds as well LOL

let's not talk about that tiktok where you, lucky, and trevor dance to/remake submissive and breedable by smosh ft bbno$, okay?

^podcast and pheobe were behind the camera cackling the whole time

lots of random pic posts on the insta as well because why not (most of them are the teens looking awkward, callie, gary & lars trying to look like cool scientists, or venkman, stanz, zeddemore & melnitz being classic, sassy old people)

the socials are never professional whatsoever, it's fun but it's not heavily controversial or obvious that you're there as a pr manager basically or just to manage the socials

like man they don't have the time to look at all the comments, take all the advice, reply to fans, etc

I mean that wage ain't that bad either LMAO

trevor is always bitching about how you make more money than he does /lh

you're not just a representative to them, you're actually family. you're just cool like that

"bro y/n is such a mc I hate them" and you'll reply on your personal w a "says you, reality shifter" or smthn LMAO idfk

always reposting ghostbuster edits / fanart etc because fandom culture 🙏

also I can't get over the fact the ghostbuster theme song is canon now either. yk damn well that shit is plastered everywhere thanks to you 💀

"do the ghostbusters respond??" "stanz said he loves your dog" "HELP HSEIJDLAKE"

10/10 experience

[sunkissedbedard]

wait ok i need you to write something trevor zegras based on a taylor song from rep, i saw u said it’s ur fave album so maybe call it what you want or king of my heart but honestly any song at all 🫣

a/n: anything for you 🥰 call it what you want is my all time favourite & the song that welcomed me to become a swiftie so it holds a special place in my heart 🥹 i hope you like it 🫶🏻✨

warnings: none except an overwhelming amount of fluff!

tags: trevor zegras x reader

word count: 0.8k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"god, it's like i can't even go online anymore with another one of those bot accounts making some stupid, half-assed comment about us." you said through a laugh to the boy next to you on the couch. trevor had finally had a day off from his busy hockey schedule with the ducks, so the two of you had decided what better way to spend the time together, than at home in the comfort of each other while you spent countless hours cuddling and watching movies.

trevor had immersed himself in a round of video games with a few of his other teammates while you had gone to do a load of laundry, as an intermission to your movie session. when you returned, you contently watched on the couch as he continued focusing intently on the screen before him.

"oh, c'mon, you know it's bullshit, y/n. they just say those things out of spite and because there's jealous." he responded, eyes still glued to his game. your mouth downturned into a frown at his lack of awareness towards something that has previously upset you. trevor knew that it was a sensitive topic for you, the comments of outsiders would always linger and keep you up at night, regardless of if you looked at them or not. even if you chose to ignore it, you knew they were still there.

"yeah, i know. but that's such a cliche; some of those things hit deep, whether they're saying it out of spite," you responded with a hint of mockery laced in your voice, nudging his hip with your foot to get his attention, to which you received no response, making you even more frustrated with the boy.

"y/n," he sighed, "you know, no matter what they say, that doesn't change how i feel about you." he promised, stopping his game and turning to face you. as he saw your saddened state as your shoulders shrugged down, his eyes slightly widened before he rushed to your side and pulled you into him so you were now laying on his chest. you inhaled his familiar scent that had seeped into the fabric of his soft hoodie you gifted him, and you felt yourself relax into him, as he pulled you into a tighter hug.

"it just gets to be too much sometimes, y'know?" you mumbled into his chest before lifting your head to meet his softened gaze. he reached forward to cup your cheek, meeting your lips with a soft and wet kiss, your lips detaching like velcro from wanting more from each other.

"i know, y/n. but i want you to know that there is nothing in this world that could change the way i feel about you. you are the best thing to ever happen to me, and i will forever be grateful that we bumped into each other that one day, or else we wouldn't be here." he paused to give you a soft smile, "i don't know what i would do without you, and letting people online get in your head to convince you otherwise? it's not worth your time, my love." he said looking into your eyes as every word fell of his tongue with such meaning, you could feel your heart warming and you broke out in a smile in response.

"i love you, trev, i don't know what i'd do without you either, you're an angel sent from above. you've made my world such a better place now that you're in it, and even though it's discouraging, being with you like this," you motion to your proximity, "it makes me feel like they fade to nothing when i look at you."

you lips reconnect with his, with more intimacy and passion this time, as you readjust yourself to be sitting, pressed against each other to feel each other's warmth.

you part, resting your foreheads against each other and laugh at the silence, "honestly, i'd wear your initial on a chain around my neck if i could," you spoke randomly, earning a raised eyebrow from trevor as he then furrowed his brows in confusion.

"you would? i mean- that seems a little possessive, don't you?" he asked, rubbing his hand up and down the side of your arm.

"no, well- i wouldn't wear it in a way that says you own me, more so, because you really know me." you stated with a shrug.

the pair of you look at each other in silence, each of you confused at what you had just said, before bursting into laughter as he lunged towards you, carefully tackling you back onto the couch so you laid under him as he attacked your face with wet kisses.

he pulled away from you, looking down with shortness of breath from his surge of energy, "you're crazy, you know that?" he asked.

"what are you talking about, you love crazy." you responded, which only ended up with you laughing endlessly from the kisses he placed all over your face and neck.

[starsandhughes]

happy sissy and co tuesday!!

could u write a blurb on a time when trevor and sissy get really flustered around each other before they’re dating and it’s sort of like an “everyone knows but them” situation??

takes place the last game before spring break when trevor officially asked sissy out! it's the 17-18 ntdp season!

-- -- --

"good luck boys! in theater they say 'break a leg,' but don't do that! keep your bones in tact for me!" you said as you hugged all four boys before they had to leave for their game. "i'll be against the glass in my hoodie!"

Jack nudged Trevor when you said that, and Trevor awkwardly ran a hand through his hair before stepping closer to you.

"actually, uh... i was kind of hoping you'd just wear my hoodie tonight? with just my number?" he asked, bushing profusely.

Jack, Cole, and Alex were all lined up in the doorway smirking and sharing looks with each other. they all knew that you two liked each other. Trevor was borderline in love with you for pete's sake! how neither of you could see it was baffling.

"but i always-"

"we don't mind!" Jack cut you off. "wear that 53 loud and proud, Sissy."

Trevor took his hoodie off and handed it to you, biting his lip in fear that you'll still say no. you blushed as you took it and had to refrain yourself from bringing it up to your nose to get a whiff of his scent. his comforting, swoon worthy, warm, scent.

"you sure?" you asked him softly.

"i wouldn't have given it to you if i wasn't," he lightly laughed.

"you can kiss us all for good luck instead," Alex joked, just to get elbowed by Cole. "i mean, you can kiss Trevor four times! one for each of us!"

you pursed your lips and looked down, the flush of your cheeks darkening. it was already out in the open, you couldn't embarrass everyone and say no, right?

"y/n, you don't-"

"i'll kiss your cheeks?" you offered.

Trevor tried to hide his smile as he nodded. you stood on your tip toes to kiss his cheek, "that's for Cole."

you got back down on your feet when he bent over for you to kiss his other, "and that's for Alex."

then you got bold. you looked into his gorgeous green eyes, or whatever color they were, they might as well be a whole new color, and smiled.

"two more," he whispered.

you brought his head down and kissed his forehead, lingering your lips there for a moment.

"that's for Jack."

"and what do i get?"

you looked over at the three boys. more specifically, Jack. he gave you a slight nod, reading your mind.

"this," you said. you brought his lips closer to yours and quickly kissed him. you stepped back, restraining yourself from doing anything more than that. you were scared of his reaction, but he pulled away with a big grin on his face.

"i think you should do that before every game," he said, reaching a hand behind your neck. you shivered at the touch, suddenly feeling embarrassed that you let that happen. in front of your friends and brother, no less!

"i- i uh..."

"we're running late!" Jack cut in to save you. he grabbed Trevor by the arm and pulled him out the door. "see you at the game, Sissy! in Trevor's hoodie! don't forget the hoodie!"

[bbrissonn]

𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐮 - 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐫 𝐳𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐬 (𝟏)

╰┈➤kinda nervous lol, making this on sept 22 at 11:51 pm. i came up with this idea for an au after seeing this post from @edwardslvrr like 2 hours ago

╰┈➤ october 8th bri bri here, decided to post this cause why not, it's all i've been thinking about since i started this au in my draft and i really want to make it public so yeah :))) hope you enjoy !!

╰┈➤ pairing: trevor zegras x ex!singer!reader

╰┈➤ masterlist

༊*·˚

-SEPTEMBER 1ST, 2023-

༊*·˚

: ̗̀➛ alannaoregon has posted on instagram for the first time in a while

alannaoregon

liked by jamie.drysdale and 1.8M others

alannaoregon so excited to announce that my sophomore album Tired of U comes out on October 13th !! this has been a work for almost 6 months and i cant wait for all of you to hear it. starting off with “i regret you everyday” coming out September 22th

much love, lana 🩵

view all 5,042 comments

becky.rivera GO BEST FRIEND

alannaoregon @/becky.rivera I LOVE YOU BEST FRIEND

user83 NEW MUSIC NEW MUSIC

jamie.drysdale so proud

alannaoregon @/jamie.drysdale love you little one

user920 soooo we all agree on who all of these are gonna be about right…?

user726 trevor went from having 12 love songs written about him, to 14 breakup song 🫢

user02 @/user726 from obsessed with you to tired of u..

sabrinacarpenter so happy to be by ur side and see u grow, cant wait for everyone these masterpieces 🩷

alannaoregon @/sabrinacarpenter love you so much 🩷

user53 the way lana always uses a blue or white heart, but always a pink one for sabrina 🥹

user836 @/user53 glad im not the only one who noticed

user637 BAHAHAHA LIKE 10 OF TREVORS FRIEND LIKED THIS

load more…

༊*·˚

: ̗̀➛ alanna oregon posted a new youtube video

“Becky bring your butt over here.” Alanna called out, placing her camera on the counter of her bathroom. Her skincare products in front of her as Becca made her way into the room, waving at the camera once she was in frame.

"I'm here, I'm here." The Rivera girl said as Alanna grabbed her first product and started applying it to her face.

"Hi cuties, it's me, Lana." The singer said in a weird voice, one she used in every intro. Becca snorted a bit, making her best friend giggle a bit. "I am back with my girl Becky."

"That's me."

"And today, we're gonna take for a lake day with us. And through out the day, I am gonna explaining every single song from my next album, Tired of u, that comes out on October 14th." Alanna explained as she moved onto her second product. Next to her, Becca was nodding along to what she way saying, a proud smile on her face.

"Go pre-save it, guys!"

"And we're gonna be starting with a single, I regret you everyday, coming out on September 20th."

"Not gonna lie, I think that's one of my fav." Becky said as Alanna moved onto her third product. The singer had already made her best friend listen to the whole album, but the girl was there for the writing and producing process so she already had a good idea of what the song were like.

"So, I regret you everyday is a pretty self explanatory title for the song. It's pretty much about regretting ever getting into a relationship with someone, let alone even meeting them even if it's something you can't control." The girl started as she applied her sunscreen gently to her skin. "I think it was the second song I finished writing, maybe like a week after my break-up."

"Wasn't it two weeks?"

"I dunno know, doesn't matter. I was just crying on Becky's couch one day and just came up with it, she helped me write some of the lines."

"You can call me Shakespeare now." The Rivera girl joked, causing her best friend to giggle once again.

"Any who, I picked that song to be a single because I think it really gives off the vibe of what the album is gonna be. Also, because Becky said she'd hit me if I didn't put-"

"Lies!"

"If I didn't put out as a single. So, yeah, now you know!" Alanna continued, ignoring the look her best friend was giving her. She quickly cut the camera after that, laughing at Becca's expression that still hadn't changed.

༊*·˚

The next clip was of the two girls in the kitchen, preparing their breakfast for the day.

"I don't know if we said it before, but we're at Becky's family cottage for the weekend, so we're gonna go swimming this afternoon." Was the first thing said in the clip, Becky in the frame as she broke the eggs. Alanna was in the back, doors of the fridge opened as the looked for the milk.

"Then I am taking her out a date to the porch for dinner with the sunset."

"Fun fact for y'all, the photo on the back of the album was taken by the neighbors of me and Becky. So, thanks to them for their contribution to the album."

"And to my dock for being the front of it." Becca added as she now left the frame and Alanna was now the main focus.

"The next song we're gonna talk about is sunset chasing. Now that song was... very emotional to make, because as some of you might know, I am a whore for sunsets, and sunset chasing was something I did a lot with my ex." The girl started explaining.

"Big big whore for them!"

"In the song, the sunset represents like my relationship with said ex, and how I was like chasing after him and his attention even though we were together for years already. And I guess you could say there's like a double meaning I think, like how sunset chasing turned into me chasing him." She added, smiling slightly had Becca's words.

"I was once again present for the writing of this song and contributed." Becca said, walking back into the frame for a slight second, a proud smile on her face.

༊*·˚

"The birds are trying to eat my food!" Becca yelled out, a loud laughing coming from Alanna as she filmed her best friend shoo away the birds. The two girls were now outside, their breakfast in front of them as they sat on the porch, from which they had a nice view of the lake.

"Becca, don't hurt them!" Alanna said from being the camera, making the girl in question look at her like she was crazy.

"They're going for my food, Lana." There was a cut after that, and then the two girls were sitting around a round table as they slowly ate their food.

"Can I introduce this song?"

"Even if I say no, you'll do it anyways, Becky."

"Damn right I will. Anyways, guys, the next song is called 11 feet behind!" Becca announced to the camera giggling a bit after saying the title of the song. "What's that song about, Lana?" She asked with wiggling eyebrows.

"That song is about always feeling like you're always behind in your relationship. Like people know more what's going on in your relationship than you do, which, fucked up for one, and two really sucks, because it makes you feel like you mean nothing to your partner."

"Guys, let me tell, my girl did not hold back with this one." Becca giggled while talking to the camera. When Alanna had told her best friend she'd be using Trevor's number in one of her song titles, the girl gasped, calling her crazy because of it.

"I am speaking the truth."

"I'm so proud of you, lanny." Becca said randomly, looking over at her best friend. Alanna laughed a bit before giving the girl a big hug, laughing a little.

༊*·˚

"We're getting Starbucks!" Becca yelled out as the next clip started, Alanna's laugh being heard once again. The two of them were now in the car, Becca driving as the other girl sat in the passenger seat, holding the camera so they were both in frame.

"Which is like totally crazy 'cause the next song was written in a Starbucks."

"What a coincidence."

"Right!" The two girl joked, their chuckles echoing in the car before Alanna focused back on the task at hand. "Anyways, it's called Friend Stealer. Long story short, it's about getting dumped by a guy so he can go date one of your friend, that he met through you."

"Snakes." Becky could be heard whispering in the back.

"And the reason why it was written in a Starbucks is because I just wanted to leave my house, get some caffein, and as I was just sitting there thinking about the whole thing, the lyrics just came to me. So, I wrote them down in my notes, typing like a crazy lady on my phone."

"She was gone for like three hours, I was so worried!" Becca said, making Alanna roll her eyes slightly.

"Okay, that's a bit dramatic, I was gone for like, forty-five minutes maybe."

"Still scared me."

"Moving on, that song was probably what helped me really get over my break-up, well more like started the whole moving on process. I was really just writing what I was feeling and yeah, that song was born. It was the first one that I found the melody for, but I think it was like, the forth I wrote, and that's when I decided I was making an album." The singer explained with a shy smile, recalling the happiness she had felt after finally writing out all her anger.

༊*·˚

"We're back in the car! Becky, what'd you get, girl?"

"I got a grande iced coffee with a splash of cream, two pumps of vanilla and two pumps of hazelnut." The girl explained her order, shaking her drinks around. "How about you, m'lady?"

"I got the same as always, my sir. A venti brown sugar oatmilk shaken expresso, only three pumps of brown sugar, three pumps of white mocha and no cinnamon."

"For all of you who didn't know, Lana's my sugar mommy, and she paid for my drink." Becca spoke, grabbing the camera for it was focusing on her. Her best friend scoffed a bit before bringing back to camera on her as Becky started to drive.

"Killing us softly is the name of the next song we're gonna be talking about. The title pretty much says it all, it just talks about how someone in a relationship just doesn't care enough and it's slowly killing their relationship." The clip cut right after the girl was done talking, and the next clip was of her sitting in her bed, filming on her phone with her headphones on.

"Guys, my camera died, oops. And at first Becky and I were gonna go to Target, well we still did, and film the next song in the car. Obviously, we couldn't do that, and my dumb ass forgot to like, go to the song we were gonna do in the car. So, here it is!

It's called mascara stained cheeks, once again, title says it all. But, it goes more into details about how toxic my relationship with my ex got, and how much he made me cry. Small reminder, that crying often in a relationship because of your partner, is not a healthy relationship, never has been and never will be. With that being said, next clip! Wait no, disclaimer, I got a little lazy with these, oops again, so the clips are pretty short. Okay, now, next clip!"

༊*·˚

The two girls were now laying on their chests on sun bathing chairs. The camera was set up on a small table in front of them as they both pushed themselves up on their chairs.

"30 seconds. Wanna do the honor's of explaining this one, Becky?"

"Yes please. This song is about how much of an asshole mister tiny dick was."

"Becca!"

"What? He was. Mister tiny dick broke up with my goddess of a best friend over a phone call, that lasted a solid 30 seconds." The Rivera girl explained, as Alanna gave her stern look.

"Becky, I'm gonna get demonetized because of you."

"Not my fault he had a tiny dick."

"Becca!"

༊*·˚

"Guys, it's editing Lana here again." The girl said, once again sitting in her bed. " So, apparently, none of my footage for the next three songs saved, yay. So, I am gonna have to do this little explanation segment again.

Okay, crushed mind. My baby, the second song I wrote, uhm, I pretty much got emotionally cheated on, so, my mind crushed. Oh my, God, I suck at explaining when I am alone. I feel so awkward just talking to my phone. Ugh, anyways, yeah, I don't know what else to say for that one.

Moving on, i miss u, this one I'm gonna explain so good, just watch, well listen... and watch. It's about missing the person your partner used to be, feeling like they've just become this whole new different person than the one you feel in love with. Which hurts, a lot. But, you know, people change, you can't get mad at people because of that... but you can write songs about it." The girl said, giggling slightly at the end.

"Last song that vanished, spinning circle, talks about conversations with my ex, would just be a spinning circle, I know the saying is like cycle or whatever, but the circle part is explained in the song. I can't tell you right now though, 'cause then I'm... I'm spoiling the like plot twist in the lyrics. Anyways, my camera figured itself out after that clip, so yeah. Back to Lanny and Becky from a week ago."

༊*·˚

The two young adults were sitting on the paddle board, which was tied to the dock so they didn't float away. The sun was beaming on them as their wet skin reflected the light slightly.

"I felt a fish touch me!" Becca gasped just as Alanna was about to speak.

"It's a fish, it's not gonna kill you."

"No, but you know what will, forgiving." Becca said, winking at the girl, clearly proud of herself for the word play. "Get it? 'Cause the next song is... forgive."

"Go you, girly. Forgive, is about forgiving myself for the pain I caused myself during the end of my relationship. Like, I knew it wasn't healthy and all, I knew I should've broken up with him, but I didn't. And it ended up hurting me a lot, and I wrote that song last, kinda like a letter to my past self, forgiving her for making me hurt."

"If any of you though it was about her forgiving mister tiny dick, you weren't alone. I though so too, and I almost wacked her when she told me." Becca said, using the nickname she had for Trevor once again. "Don't look at me like that, you're not gonna get demonetized!"

༊*·˚

"Okay, friends, it's now bedtime for us. We decided not to film after dinner, because we ended having a little heart to heart in the car after, and we just didn't really feel like it. So, we're gonna speed run the last three."

"Heist!" Becca called out. The two best friends were once again in the bathroom, now doing their nightly skincare.

"Going on a heist to get the smallest bit of attention from your partner." Alanna answered.

"heart n soul."

"How hurt my heart and soul were after my break up."

"Last one, tired of u!"

"Tired of... them. Yeah! No, uhm, I am gonna take a little more time on this one since it's also the name of the album. Tired of u, is just about how tired I was of how my old boyfriend was treating me and acting around me. And the reason I picked that name for the album, is because it really describes how I feel towards him still, and our relationship, even now. Overall, just tired of everything related to my old relationship, the media, the comments, just all of it."

"I got tired of him, too, Lanny." Becky said right before the clip cut, making the singer chuckle slightly.

༊*·˚

"Okay friends, we're now in our matching pjs, and we're gonna go to sleep now. So, thanks for hanging with us today."

"Don't forget to go pre-save the album!"

"And yeah, I'll see you guys soon. Bye bye!" Alanna said before leaning in and pressing a kiss to the lens, which Becca than repeated.

: ̗̀➛ comments

user80 the way every time she vlogs she always struggles with the camera- she's so me

user001 so excited to hear these songs, all of them sound so interesting !!!

user719 guys i think she's gonna release sunset chasing as a single before the album drops cause she did the whole album in order, expect for i regret you everyday and sunset chasing

user412 @/user719 OMG YOU'RE SO SMART alannaoregon @/user719 shhh bestie you're gonna ruin the surprise user719 @/alannaoregon OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HIIIII

[rfxiii]

I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, but can u do one where Trevor and reader r playing tennis and reader wins, and Trevor give reader a ‘reward’?

Luv ur work btw!

Trevor and the Reader Playing Tennis Together:

(Summary: Trevor invites the reader on a date, taking her to one of Los Santos’ many tennis courts. In an effort to raise the stakes, Trevor suggests a bet- whoever wins the match gets a prize)

[the readers pronouns weren’t specified so I went with a fem!reader but if that’s not what you wanted feel free to reach out and I’ll edit or re-write!]

*TW: Smut

(Word Count: 2087)

Outings with Trevor were always a whirlwind. He kept you on your toes even on a simple trip to the grocery store. So when you find yourself out late at night, on the tennis court, with Trevor dressed in those little athletic shorts that leave very little to the imagination, you’re not exactly surprised. He’d always been into things like hockey and golf, but seeing him bouncing on his toes across from you, holding his tennis racket as if it’s a weapon, was honestly a bit comical.

With a mischievous grin on his cracked, scarred lips, Trevor beckons you to join him for a match. And despite your vague reservations, knowing how competitive he can get, you agree- holding your own racket tightly as you prepare.

“What’s with the face, sugar? Ya afraid Uncle T is gonna beat ya?” Trevor taunts, appearing incredibly confident for a man who looks like he’s never played tennis in his life.

“Don’t get cocky, Trev! I may just surprise you.” you fire back, unwilling to let him under your skin before the match has even begun.

“Ooh! I like it when you’re feisty, angel. Ok! Let’s make things interesting, huh? How bout a wager? Winner gets to pick whatever prize they want.”

You consider momentarily. You’re no tennis pro, that’s for sure. But you feel confident enough that you can hold your own. But then again, you know Trevor well enough to be sure that if you lose there’s literally no limit of insanity to what he could request from you. You weigh the pros and cons, finally deciding that the look on his face if you managed to beat him would be well worth the risk.

“Ya know what? Bring it on, T!” you agree- confident grin on your lips as you spin your racket in a smug display.

The game begins quickly, and much to your dismay, Trevor displays an uncanny knack for tennis. His manic demeanor seems to transform into pure energy as he focuses on the game, delivering violent serves and aggressive spins. You find yourself struggling to keep up, but the thought of losing to him quickly turns your surprise into heated determination.

With each volley, you find yourselves laughing, shouting at each other, and exchanging playful, yet heated, taunts. And as the sets go on, you begin finding your rhythm after a clumsy beginning, putting up a determined fight against Trevor's unconventional yet shockingly effective playing. He’s still doing incredibly well, but you’re keeping up. And you’ll be damned if you lose to him. The thought of his victory request is far from your mind now as your only fear is having to face his smug, taunting grin if he wins.

You swing your racket hard, and Trevor lunges, his quick attempt to return the shot falling just short as the ball hits the ground, and your victory is solidified with your triumphant cheers and maybe a bit of heckling that you’re not exactly proud of.

“God! Fuck! Fuck! Come on!” Trevor growls, tossing his racket into the ground as he stomps like a raging toddler- he’d never handled losing well. But, just like his moods usually do, his anger quickly changes as he gives you a smarmy grin and waltzes across the court to pull you into a handsy embrace.

He’s damp with musky sweat, and you can still feel his heart pounding beneath his ribs from where his chest is pressed flush with yours. His full, chapped lips are parted in heavy gasps, his thinning hair is stuck to his head in a slick sheen of sweat, and there’s just something about his body heaving from exertion that’s pulling in all of your attention.

“Well, sugar-.. Fair is fuckin’ fair, I guess. So, go on. Do your worst! Whaddaya want?” Trevor pries, dropping a bit of his weight into your arms and looking at you with those chocolate brown puppy dog eyes full of mischief. He’s always been able to sense your want, and you damn him for that, because before your request even leaves your lips he’s already sporting a lecherous grin on his taunting face.

“Wipe that smile off your lips, Trev. You lost. So now you’re gonna be a good boy and put that dirty mouth to good use. I’m tired of hearing you talk.” you huff out- anxious and a bit unfamiliar with taking the dominant role. But the low growl he lets out and the way his filthy, calloused hands slide down your body and under your little tennis skirt is enough to let you know he’s going to enjoy this just as much, if not more, than you do.

His rough touch drags up your thigh, his split nails scratching up the delicate flesh until his fingers press against the thin fabric of your underwear. They prod and rub roughly without much finesse but with enough eager energy to more than compensate for his lack of tenderness. You choke on a breathy gasp, fingers flying up to grip at his shoulder and tug him closer- your forehead dropping to his chest where you hear his ragged breath and low moans.

“Yeah? You like that, sugar?” Trevor chuckles, the low rasp of his voice sending sparks straight between your thighs.

A soft whimper ghosts past your lips, head tilting up to gaze at him with desperate eyes, “Trevor.. Wait.. Someone could see..”

“It’s late. Nobody is gonna be out here. Unless…ya want me to stop? The prize is time sensitive though, darlin’. So, I’d think quick.” Trevor challenges, his fingers working fast, firm circles against you in a taunting rhythm.

It’s hard to think, let alone argue, when he touches you like this. And he knows he’s won before you’ve even had a chance to speak up, “N-no.. Trevor.. I-.. Don’t stop..” you find yourself whining. And the awful, twisted smile splitting his lips shows his enjoyment clearly on his face.

“That’s what I thought. Now be good, and let old Trevor take care of ya. Huh, angel face?” he goads, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your underwear to press against your needy clit.

Your legs nearly buckle beneath you, a hand digging tightly into Trevor’s bicep while the other tangles fingers in the thicker hair at the back of his head. The high, whimpery moan that escapes your lips has him grinning. And as he works his gnarled fingers up your slit, collecting the wetness that he’s caused there, he lets out a groan nearly as desperate as yours, “Oooh fuck, baby.. You’re fuckin’ dripping.. If I had known how bad you fuckin’ wanted it, we’d have stayed the fuck home tonight.”

Your hips grind fitfully against his hand, craving the friction those vile fingers of his provide. He easily senses your desperation, leaning down to nip and suck at your throat while his slick tongue traces against the grooves he’s bitten into your neck like a twisted apology to soothe the sting. Your needy reactions have him working harder, paying pointed attention to your damp clit, and focusing on each flex of his fingers that makes you cry out the loudest.

“Trevor.. Trevor! Please.. I’m so close! Please, more?” you plead, looking up at him with teary eyes as you waver right on the cusp of blissful completion. Thankfully he’s always been just as needy as you. And tonight he has no intentions of teasing you by denying what you both need.

“Turn around.” Trevor orders, not giving you the chance to move on your own as he spins you roughly around, forcing you to grip the chain link fence bordering the tennis court to keep your balance. He presses into you from behind, grinding himself against you while the fabric of those little shorts do next to nothing to restrain his hard cock prodding at your ass beneath your skirt, “You feel how fuckin’ bad I want ya, sugar? Fuck! You drive me fuckin’ crazy.”

He’s always so needy for you and it never fails to make you feral. You press back against him, grinding your ass into his growing bulge until he quickly becomes tired of the teasing foreplay, ripping your panties down your thighs and pinning you so far forward your face nearly presses into the chain link, “Fuckin’ teasing me all night with that little skirt, running your mouth, tellin’ me what to do.. Fuuuck! You know I love it. Let Uncle T give ya your reward now, sugar.”

“Please.. Please.. Trevor, please.” you gasp out like a prayer, gazing over your shoulder with fingers trembling where they grip like a lifeline to the chain link.

His movements are frantic and aggressive while he tugs his little shorts just low enough for his cock to spring free. He’s so hard it almost looks painful for him with his tip flushed violent red and steadily leaking pre-cum. He spits thickly into his palm, stroking himself a few, rough times- not that he needs the extra lubrication, as you feel your own arousal close to dripping down your inner thighs. Trevor’s rugged, scarred hand grips your hip while the other remains on his cock, lining himself up with your soaked, nearly aching cunt before he presses a kiss to the back of your neck in a bastardized version of gentle intimacy, “That's it, baby.. Lemme show ya just how good you did tonight..”

He presses forward in one harsh snap of his hips, hitting you deep inside in that one spot he’s memorized you loving. You practically sob for him, clinging to the fence and struggling to rock your hips in time with his frantic, disarranged rhythm. His hand rears back suddenly, delivering a firm slap to the smooth, delicate skin of your ass and pulling a shocked, euphoric cry from your lips. You’re trembling and he has no intentions of slowing his manic, disorienting pace. And when his harsh, careless fingers assault your clit you feel yourself nearing your end.

“Trevor! Oh fuck, Trevor! Don’t stop! Please! I- I’m so close! Fuck! Fuck!” you babble out, unable to restrain your loud tone as you’ve long since shed your fear of being caught in public like this- the pleasure clouding your mind as your previous reservations melt away.

“Oh fuck yes! You’re so fuckin’ perfect! Oh god! That’s it, sugar! Take it!” Trevor growls, hips driving mercilessly into you and fingers working you over so well he has you on the verge of tears. You feel him twitching inside you, his moans growing louder and desperate as you both feel yourselves nearing your end.

Your chin drops to your chest, your head hanging limp in pleasure with your legs trembling so terribly it’s close to impossible to stand, “Trevor! I’m- I’m gonna cum! Don’t stop! Please! Please! Ooh god, Trev! You feel so fucking good!” you plead- the praise only spurring him on with his hips snapping against you so viciously it’s sure to leave you bruised.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuckin’ fuck! I love you, I love you-“ Trevor rambles, a telltale sign he’s close to his own end. And when his grip tightens almost painfully against your hip, and his fingers pace against your clit becomes stiff and rhythmless you both reach your peak with sharp and sudden explosions of euphoria, “AUGH! FUCK! I LOVE YOU! FUCK!” he shouts, his release ruining your insides as you cum around him- your slick, combined fluids trailing down your thighs as his pace begins to slow.

“Trevor… Oh my god.. Fuck.. You’re..fucking amazing..” you gasp with legs trembling and heart pounding in your chest.

He pulls out with a weak, pathetic whimper, wrapping his arms around you and pressing sloppy, wet kisses to your sweaty throat, “Goddamn, sugar.. That was fuckin’-.. Wow. Competition really does bring out the best in ya, don’t it?” he teases while readjusting himself and pulling up his shorts.

You bite back a groan at the dampness between your sore thighs, pulling up your panties and straightening your skirt while fighting back a grimace as his cooling cum soaks the fabric, “Ya know what, T?” you giggle softly, pulling him into a teasing embrace with arms looped around his neck, “Maybe we should wager like this more often. I think I kinda like the rewards you give.”

A smirk twists his scarred lips as he leans down and pulls you into a wet, despicable kiss that promises that this night is far from over, “Sugar, I like the way you think.”