#idiot reader

“Yeah yeah the milfs love you, but how is that supposed to help me?”

“It’s not, I just felt like sharing. If it makes you feel any better, I’m almost positive I’ve seen her husband flirting with another woman that looked suspiciously like his secretary during one of the Sunday brunches.”

___ glanced over at the couple. Maybe it made her a hater, but you know what? It did make her feel better.

“I’m just so sick of it,” she started. “You make so many tips because you eye fuck the middle aged women and they eat that shit up. I try and flirt with the middle aged men, and suddenly their wives appear like hungry direwolves and I get written up—”

“Kook alert, 10 o’clock,” Pope said, nodding his head in the opposite direction. “You should take this one.”

___ sharply turned her head around, fully expecting to see another stuffy real estate developer or bored housewife, before coming face to face with a young man. One that was about her age, and one that she vaguely recognized. Topper, she thought. They had gone to different high schools: him to the one private school on the island that was basically a feeder school for Duke, her to the dilapidated public school that still used textbooks from the 90s. Despite that, she knew him because he came from one of the oldest families in Kildare Island. 

And one of the richest.

She turned around and mouthed a quick thank you to Pope, before putting on her customer service face; finally, a guy young enough to flirt with without worrying about his wife seeing. 

“What can I get for you today?”

“Double vodka, neat,” he sighed deeply, burying his hands in his face and digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. 

Maybe it was the look of distress he had on his face, maybe it was the fact she sensed an opportunity for a hefty tip, but ___ altered his order ever so slightly.

“Don’t tell anyone, but I made it a triple,” she beamed, handing him his drink.

He stared at the drink, then at her, then back at the drink again. She began to feel slightly embarrassed, maybe she had misread the situation. 

“You just look like you could use it,” she stammered out. “Not that you look like—I mean—”

“Thank you,” he said with surprising sincerity, cutting her off. He looked...grateful, something she wasn’t exactly used to with this crowd. Before she could tell him it was no problem, he downed the drink with alarming quickness. She wordlessly handed him a napkin as he looked down on the small drops of liquor that had splashed onto his shirt. He thanked her again, only bewildering her more. 

“Rough day?” she asked him tentatively. She didn't know what possessed her to ask; she wasn’t in the business of feeling too bad for the other half of the island, but he looked absolutely miserable.

“Not bad, just obscenely boring,” he groaned. “In case you haven’t noticed, these things aren’t particularly fun.”

“What are you talking about, this is the highlight of my day,” she muttered with what she worried was a little too much sarcasm the moment the words left her mouth. Before she could worry about his reaction, he let out a bark of laughter. 

“Ugh, you’re telling me. I thought coming here with my ex-girlfriend was bad, I can’t imagine having to actually work at one of these,” he let out a wry chuckle. “I’m sorry,” he said, sobering up immediately. “That was such a dickhead thing to say, obviously working—”

“I don’t know, if I had to come to one of these with my ex I’d probably be in worse shape than you are right now.”

“You think I’m in bad shape?” His tone was playful, further emphasized by his small smile. Surely a little reciprocation couldn’t hurt.

“You just downed three shots of vodka like it was water, nobody does that unless they’re on the edge.”

“Look,” he said, leaning forward on his elbows. “I don’t know who your ex is, but he cannot possibly be worse than Sarah Cameron.”

“Sarah Cameron?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You know her?”

“Boy do I,” she huffed. “She went back and forth with my friend for the better part of a year before he finally put his foot down. It was a nightmare, I thought I’d never hear the end of that mess.”

Topper’s eyes narrowed. “Your friend wouldn’t happen to be—”

“John B? Yeah, she wouldn’t have happened to be two timing y’all, would she?”

“I’m not surprised,” he muttered, looking back at his date. 

It was absolutely none of her business, but curiosity got the best of her. “Sorry if I’m overstepping, you can totally tell me to fuck off. But...why did you come here with her? It doesn’t sound like you like her very much.”

He let out another deep sigh before delving into the convoluted and chaotic mess that was their relationship. ___ listened with intent that surprised even her; why did she care? She couldn’t deny it was entertaining, and she definitely heard considerable overlap with her own friends' relationship with Sarah.

“So basically we agreed to this months ago and by the time we broke up, it was too late to change it,” he sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, you’re just trying to work and I just dumped all of that on you—”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, giving him a small smile. “It was a lot more fun to listen to than people yelling at me for getting their drink order wrong.”

He cringed. “Yeah sorry about that, I heard and I think that was my mother...”

Speaking of his mother, a woman ___ assumed was her called his name out and waved him over to probably talk to the Very Important People she was standing next to. 

“That’ll be her,” Topper said. “Thanks for the drink.” He opened his wallet and placed a bill in front of her and gave her, to her surprise, what she felt was a genuine smile, before heading over to his mother. She looked down at the money in front of her and had to do a double take because there was no way he had given her a $100 tip. Before she could call him back to fix what was surely a mistake, he turned back to look at her and flashed her another quick smile, and began talking to what ___ thought was the District Attorney. She looked back at the bill in disbelief before stuffing it in her pocket, Pope was going to be so mad. 

***

___ stepped outside into the hot North Carolina sun, gravel crunching under her flip flops as she made her way to work. The breeze blew through her tank top, and it was moments like these where she was grateful they got lockers at the country club; she couldn’t imagine making the trek wearing the god awful black uniforms they had. 

“___?” She heard someone call out her name and turned around to see none other than Topper driving down the dusty little road she took to get to work. What he was doing here, she had no idea. Before she could ask, he pulled up next to her and rolled down the passenger side window of his car.

“Topper!” she beamed. “I remember you from the party.” It wasn’t a lie, she had been thinking about him and his $100 tip for the better part of the week.

“What are you doing?” he said, squinting his eyes as the sun illuminated his face. 

“Oh you know,” she shrugged casually, “just going to work.” 

“But…you’re walking.”

“Yeah?” 

They continued to stare at each other in silence until he offered her a ride and she found herself sitting in his Range Rover. She tried not to ogle as she ran her hands over the leather interior, but this car was nice. Her piece of shit was worth $1,500 max, she didn’t even want to know how much his car cost. Her eyes went to the iPad like screen at the front of the car that was currently on Spotify. Topper noticed her staring, and handed her his phone.

“You wanna play something?”

She looked at him incredulously. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah go ahead,” he said, handing the phone to her like it was no big deal. She took it gingerly, he had already unlocked it and had it open on the Spotify app. She began to think about what to play. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought her taste in music sucked? She quickly typed in a song name, if she thought about it any longer she would never make a decision. 

“…Bhad Bhabie?'' he asked as Gucci Flip Flops began to play.

“It’s a banger, okay,” ___ defended herself. “I think everyone should listen to more girl rap.”

“It’s good.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye; he had a nice side profile. He was also smiling, maybe he liked girl rap too.

Far too soon, they made it to the country club. She directed him to the back entrance where the employees usually came in before hopping out. 

“Thanks for the ride!” She gave him one last smile before closing the door. Maybe it was her imagination, but she swore she could feel his eyes on her as she got out of the car. 

***

“Your boyfriend’s here again.”

___ looked up to see Topper outside, leaning against his car. A faint blush creeped up on her cheeks; it had been about a month since he had so generously started giving her a ride to work. She still wasn’t sure what his motivation was, but with the temperatures in North Carolina continuing to creep up, she wasn’t questioning it. If a guy wanted to be her personal chauffeur, she was gonna let him.

“He is not my boyfriend Rebekah, calm down,” she responded, rolling her eyes. She gathered her stuff and as she was leaving, she heard her coworker shout something along the lines of “Use protection!” After flipping her off, ___ made her way outside to the Range Rover. Topper looked up from his phone and gave her a smile, setting off butterflies in her stomach.

“Get it together girl,” she told herself. 

“How was your shift?” he said, opening the door for her. God, he needed to stop doing stuff like that or she was going to catch feelings.

“Oh you know, just another day of getting yelled at and not tipped,” she shrugged, snuggling into the fluffy purple blanket she left in his car. “The usual.”

“Well, I have something that’ll make you feel better.”

“A hundred dollars?” she asked wryly.

He looked concerned all of a sudden. “Why? Do you need it? Did your electricity get shut off again?”

“God no I was joking! I should have never told you about that.” The that she referred to, had been the unfortunate week where a million things went wrong around the house and with her brother’s car at the same time all their bills were due, and they had to choose which things would suck less to live without. She had briefly mentioned it to him on the drive to work, and halfway through her shift she got a call from her brother asking her why the lights had suddenly come back on. It was only after hounding her friend that he admitted he paid her electricity bill, and he finally conceded to letting her pay him back after her next paycheck. When the 15th came around, she went to Venmo him the $139 only to find he had blocked her on Venmo.

“Anyways, what was the thing?”

“The thing? Oh yeah, there’s going to be a party on the beach tonight. You should come.”

“Ugh I don’t know…none of my friends are going to want to be the DD, plus I do not feel like walking back home in the middle of the night and—”

“You can just stay at my place,” he blurted out. “My beach house, it’s near where the party’s gonna be. You could just stay there and not worry about how to get back home.”

“Are you sure?” she asked incredulously. “I mean, I don’t know…that’s kind of a huge favor.” 

“It’s no big deal I promise. Please, I want you to come.”

She turned the idea over in her head. On one hand, it was definitely weird he was inviting her to use his beach house. But on the other hand, was it really? He had been giving her rides for a while now, so many she now kept a chapstick in his center console and a blanket in the back seat for when she got chilly. He had literally paid her electric bill, and blocked every single attempt she had made to pay him back. She considered him a friend, surely giving her a place to crash wasn’t out of the ordinary for friends?

“Okay I’ll go,” she said hesitantly. “But you have to promise they’re not going to start shooting things again.”

“That wasn’t even my fault!”

“It was a little bit your fault.”

***

It became an unspoken habit with them, sort of like how their car rides were. Any time there was a party they went to together, Topper would let her crash at his beach house. It was a nice fucking beach house, so she definitely didn’t mind, but part of her couldn’t help but wonder why he was being so nice. Her friends definitely had a couple of ideas though.

“And you’re not even sleeping with him?” Rebekah had asked incredulously, Mindy echoing her sentiment. They were sitting in Rebekah’s violently pink childhood bedroom, hanging out before the beach party that was later that night.

“No!” ___ exclaimed, blushing furiously. “It’s nothing like that, we’ve never even gotten close to anything like that.”

“Has he even tried anything?”

“No? Has it ever occurred to you guys that he’s just being nice and doesn’t expect anything in return?”

“No.”

“Maybe he is being nice,” Mindy said absentmindedly, painting her toenails. “Because he’s gay.” 

“He’s not gay!”

“I don’t know ___, the man wears sunscreen.”

“Rebekah, you’re dating JJ. Of course you think guys don’t wear sunscreen, that boy has never worn it in his life.”

“That’s not true, remember when he got that really bad sunburn? He started wearing it after that.”

“That lasted like a week, his sunburn hadn’t even healed completely by the time he gave up.”

***

She was drunk. So drunk.

The plan had been for Mindy to stay sober enough to drive while ___ and Rebekah could drink as much as they wanted, and next time they’d switch. It had all fallen apart when their DD had gotten a frantic call from her sister halfway through needing to be picked up from god knows where. Rebekah was fine, she could just go home with her boyfriend. But that left ___ in a very confusing place, because by the time she found out her designated driver wasn’t designated anymore, she was completely fucking wasted.

She stared at her phone, finger hovering over his number, debating if she should call him. It would be so weird for her to do that. Wouldn’t it? He had lent her use of his beach house before, multiple times, even showed her where the spare key was. But all those times had been while she was at a party he was also at, this gathering was strictly Pogues. 

But what other choice did she have? Her house was a much further walk than his beach house was, and she wasn’t even sure she could make it home while it was this dark. 

Before she could psych herself out of it, she pressed the button. She needed a place to crash, and would prefer it not be a sand dune.

“Hello?” Topper said, sounding concerned. He had picked up on the first ring, weird.

“Heyyyyy,” she said, desperately trying not to slur her words.

“___? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothings wrong silly, I just um, I just wanted to ask you if I—oops, sorry I dropped my phone, I just wanted to ask you if I could crash at your beach house tonight. I know um, it’s late and you aren’t here but I—”

“Where are you? Have you been drinking?”

“A little bit?” she responded right before hiccuping very loudly. “Okay a lot.”

“Where are you? I’ll come get you.” She absentmindedly told him and he hung up, but not before promising to be there soon. 

***

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you on this side of the island before,” she said as she got into his car. It was true. Before she got to know him, she would’ve never assumed she’d see any of the Thorntons on The Cut. But here he was, in his shiny Range Rover, picking her up.

“I’ve never had much reason to come here,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine,” she responded, waving him off. “So listen, I have a huge favor to ask and I’m really sorry about it, feel free to shoot it down. But um, I know you could just give me a ride back home or whatever, since you’re already driving me, but my parents miiight think I’m sleeping over at a friend’s house, a friend who is currently at said house with her boyfriend, and I do not want to third wheel with those two, and if I show up drunk my parents will be so mad, and—”

“Whoa whoa, hold on. You can crash at my place, it’s no problem.”

She breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you so much. I know it’s kind of weird cause you weren’t here tonight, but I just didn’t know where else to go.”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m here or not, you can use it any time, okay? I promise. And if you need a ride just call me, I’ll come get you.” 

She reached over to touch his face, inhibitions lowered slightly. “What did I ever do to deserve someone as sweet as you?”

***

___ entered the bedroom, towel drying her hair. It was the same bedroom she had slept in many times before, but something was different about tonight. The moonlight, the surprising amount the temperature had dropped, or maybe it was the fact Topper was in her bed.

Well it wasn’t her bed. Technically, it wasn’t even her house. It was Topper’s, and he was so graciously letting her use it yet again.

“Still not sober yet?” she asked, giving him a small smile.

“God no,” he groaned, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Never let me drink tequila again.”

He had invited her to a party on the beach, bringing it up to her in what he hoped was a casual manner as he picked her up from her late shift at work.

“Obviously you can stay in my beach house if you need to, so don’t worry about how to get home if you drink too much.”

His offer had left flutters in her abdomen. She knew he was probably just being nice, but the way he was so generous made her blush. Forget being nice for a Kook, most Pogue boys she knew weren’t this sweet.

She laid down next to him on the bed, the t-shirt he had given her briefly riding up. She pretended not to notice the way his eyes quickly darted to the strip of skin that got exposed. 

“Do you mind if I wait here while I sober up? I just...had a lot to drink,” he asked, laying down next to her. 

“Of course Topper, it’s your house. Who am I to tell you you can’t stay here?”

“I didn’t know if it would make you uncomfortable.”

“Why would I be uncomfortable?”

“I don’t know. I mean, you normally get to stay here by yourself and I just figured...I don’t know. Forget it.”

She turned on her side to look at him. “Well you could never make me uncomfortable.”

He met her gaze. “I’m glad to hear that.”

A weird tension filled the air, one she wasn’t used to and didn’t know how to handle. She began nervously rambling about the party they had just gone to, especially the part where Sarah had fallen in the ocean and got covered in wet sand.

At some point in the course of their conversation, they had started getting closer and closer together. At first it was so miniscule, ___ told herself her mind was playing tricks on her.  It was only until she realized all she had to do was lean in maybe an inch or two and they would be touching, that she froze. Topper appeared to come to that very realization at the same time, because he stopped mid sentence leaving the two of them to stare at each other in silence.

The moment seemed to be suspended in time; they were looking at each other, tension filling the air, their faces so close she could see his pupils but far enough they weren’t touching. 

And then they were.

Topper leaned in first, so slowly ___ could’ve sworn it wasn’t happening, her eyes shutting as if by instinct. The first brush of his lips on hers was featherlight, almost imaginary. The second was not.

His hand brushed the side of her face, fingers entangling themselves in her hair. He closed the distance between them by holding the back of her neck and pulling her into him, his lips on hers instantly. “His lips are soft,” she thought to herself, a nice juxtaposition with the intensity of the kiss. It was as if a dam had broken—the little glances they shared, the little ways they found an excuse to touch each other—all had been leading to this.

She guided him onto his back and began straddling him. His hands traveled around her waist, pulling her close to him. He began kissing her neck, and it was then that her mind, emboldened by alcohol, got a brilliant idea.

She began crawling downwards, and he looked confused before recognition flashed on his face as she pulled down his zipper and reached into his boxers. Before she could lose her nerve, she spat on his cock and took him in her mouth, sucking so hard that none of the saliva spilled out.

“Hnngh—oh fuck oh my god oh my god,” he started babbling, hand immediately going to the back of her head. He dug his fingers into her hair, lightly holding the back of her head like he wanted to push her but was too scared to. She rewarded his restraint by deepthroating him so suddenly he threw his head back and his leg started shaking.

When she began to feel his cock twitching in her mouth, she abruptly sat up. Before she lost her nerve, she yanked her shirt off and began to tug at his. He quickly got the message and did the same, the both of them quickly ridding themselves of the rest of their clothes as she positioned herself above him. 

“Those kook girls probably fuck like dead fish,” she thought, “he’ll be losing his mind in no time.” 

Her smirk vanished as she practically slammed her hips down. He was big. Much bigger than she had been anticipating, if the burn she felt meant anything. 

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back into the pillow. His lips were parted, and he had a vice grip on her hips as she began to rock herself on top of him. 

His eyes opened and he slid his hands over her body: up her waist, across her chest, feeling her breasts with his large hands. They were surprisingly calloused and rough, what could this Kook be doing that would make them that way? They made their way to her waist, where he held her tightly and began guiding her up and down, encouraging her to ride him faster. She obliged, and began driving herself down deeper and deeper, the sound of heavy breathing and moaning and skin slapping skin filling the room. 

“I-fuck, oh my god,” he let out breathlessly. His right hand made its way to her clit, his thumb circling it as pressure began building up in her lower abdomen. She let out a loud moan after his cock hit her at a particularly deep angle, and she could feel his fingers digging deep into the meat of her hips. She began fucking herself on his cock harder, grinding her clit into his pelvis causing him to roll his eyes into the back of his head. 

He didn’t stop though, and it wasn’t long before the pressure spilled over and she was throwing her head back, crying out loudly as her orgasm washed over her. The lewd, wet sounds of her riding his cock only got louder, the slap of her body onto his amplified. 

She felt him wrap his arms around her pulling her body into his, and she draped herself over his chest in response. He held her tightly and began fucking up into her, burying his face into her neck. She could hear him heavily breathing into her ear, along with the grunting, the moaning, and whatever passably English noises were coming out of his mouth as he continued to move his hips harder and harder. 

“Nghh-fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna cum,” he began babbling. She sat up and took control again, tightening around him and riding him faster in encouragement. He began whimpering, and she kept going until he let out a string of curses and she felt his hips stuttering as he came inside her. 

She collapsed next to him, the burst of energy spurred on by the liquor finally wearing off. For a few moments, the room was filled only with the sound of their heavy breathing before ___ felt her eyelids getting heavier. She swore she felt an arm wrap around her before drifting off into sleep. 

***

“What do you mean she’s friends with one of the line cooks?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like man I don’t know what to tell you,” Kelce muttered, avoiding Topper’s eye.

Topper may or may not have told his friends to keep an eye on ___ while she was at work. It wasn’t as bad as it sounded, it was for her own good. Some of the guys at the country club could be real creeps.

“Well which one is it?”

“Some guy named Tyler,” Rafe answered, looking at the ground.

“Well? Go on.”

“He’s definitely a tool but he seems to be nice to her, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

Topper’s eyes started twitching. He didn’t care if this Tyler was nice to her, in fact he preferred he wasn’t. What if he had ulterior motives? You just couldn’t trust some of these Pogues. 

“Hey dude you okay?” Kelce asked him. He snapped back to his friends, he must have been contemplating longer than he thought.

“Just-just go. I’ll...figure something out,” he muttered under his breath, dismissing his friends.

“Figure out what?” Rafe murmured as he and Kelce walked away.

***

“You don’t want me to go to work...at a country club...in the non dangerous part of town?” ___ asked Topper incredulously. 

It sounded ridiculous even to him, but he needed her to understand. It was for her safety; he was just looking out for her. Protecting her from all the lowlifes she could come into contact with, especially that Tyler.

“Listen,” he pleaded, voice on the verge of sounding desperate. “It’s not safe, you’re just a young girl working there. You have no idea the kind of scumbags that you could come into contact with. I’m a member there sweetheart, I overhear what some of the other members say about the workers there. They’d totally take advantage of them if they could.”

“Well that’s not exactly a surprise is it? It’s Figure Eight Topper, I think I’ll be fine.”

Having no choice but to drop her off, his mind was spinning. He would just have to convince her some other way...

***

Topper pulled up to the employee’s entrance slightly late. ___ had gotten off her shift fifteen minutes ago, but his mother had dragged him into some horribly banal conversation about graduate school that he couldn’t just leave. He hoped ___ would understand.

He didn’t recognize the two of them at first, assuming they were other employees leaving their shift. But when he heard the sound of a motorcycle engine revving up, his head shot in their direction only to find her sitting on the back of the motorcycle.

With Tyler.

With her arms wrapped around him.

He could see her giggling and the line cook’s dumb smirk on his face, and it took all of Topper’s willpower not to run over the motorcycle and the man on it. The only reason he didn’t was because she was there too.

That, and the fact there were several witnesses.

Topper didn’t remember much after that, he was so furious he could barely see straight. Why was she riding with Tyler? She always got a ride back with him, always. Blood was pounding in his ears as he checked his phone.

*2 missed calls from ___.*

*1 text message from ___.*

Fuck, she had been trying to get ahold of him and he completely missed it because he was so focused on getting here fast. He opened her text message, hoping for some explanation.

He got one, although it didn’t make him feel any better. It was just a quick note about how she was going to catch a ride with her coworker and to not worry about picking her up, and how she hoped he was okay. Fuck, she was so sweet. Always worrying about him, always making sure she wasn’t burdening him. She could never be a burden to him, he would always be there for her.

Always.

He typed a quick response, trying to keep his temper in check so as to not set her off that something was wrong. As he drove back home, he made a mental note to ask Rafe to get ahold of the employee files. He would be paying Tyler a little visit tonight.

***

*11:58 pm*

Topper checked his watch again before looking back up at the house. It was dimly lit, and the last lights had gone out half an hour ago but he had to be safe. His grandfather was a judge, if word got out about any of this it would reflect poorly on his family.

Although, his grandfather was a judge, and that certainly wouldn’t be to his disadvantage. 

Topper looked around at his surrounding one last before turning his keys in the ignition. The houses were run down and small, and Tyler’s was no exception. Despite the look of the neighborhood, Tyler, for some unknown reason, left his motorcycle in his driveway in plain sight.

“What a fucking moron,” Topper muttered to himself. He took a deep breath; it was now or never. 

He drove his car part way down Tyler’s driveway and ran over his motorcycle, wincing slightly as he heard the screech of metal on metal. He needed to be fast, someone could have easily heard that and would come out to investigate any minute. He ran over it one more time for good measure, and then hightailed it out of there. He dreaded to think about what it did to his bumper; he loathed to ruin his car, but his only other option was his dad’s truck and he would be in real trouble if he ruined that. 

As he drove away, he thought he saw a light in one of the houses turning on behind him. He smiled to himself, it was as if a weight had lifted off his shoulders.

***

“Yeah someone just ran over his motorcycle, it was the weirdest thing.” ___ was recounting the gossip she had learned on her shift that day to Topper. Apparently Tyler couldn’t make it to his shift that day because he had no way to get to work. Topper had to restrain himself from smiling when she told him that, she wouldn’t understand that he had been doing it for her. It was better if she didn’t know.

“Anyways, we were making bets on who did it. I personally think it was a drunk driver, Rebekah thinks someone did it on purpose cause they wanted to fuck with him.”

“Well, it’s sad that he can’t get to work now, but if you ask me I think whoever did it did Tyler a favor,” Topper said, trying to keep his face straight. “Those things are really dangerous.”

“Ugh I know,” ___ pouted. “But they’re so fun! Yesterday when he gave me a ride home, he went so fast I could feel the wind whipping through my hair. I mean the adrenaline rush I got was unreal, I don’t know why anyone does drugs when they could...”

Topper gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. He was trying not to think about the two of them together, but her extreme enthusiasm regarding the bike was not helping.

“Anyways, if you ever get the chance you should ride on a motorcycle. It’s so fun!”

Topper wanted to be mad at her. He wanted to be able to tell her to stop talking about the damn motorcycle and her lowlife coworker. But when he glanced over at her, she looked so genuinely happy it gave him chest pains and he gritted out a smile.

“I definitely will.”

***

She was running late. So late.

She practically jumped into Topper’s car when he leaned over and opened the door for her, work shirt in hand. He looked startled, but didn’t say anything when she directed him to drive in a panicked tone.

“I am SO sorry to keep you waiting, I thought I set my alarm for 7 am but it turns out it was actually 7 pm, and I just woke up ten minutes ago and I—”

“Whoa calm down,” he said coolly. “It’s okay.”

She gave him a small smile, and began to shuffle around her backpack looking for her phone. If she left it at home, she swore to god—

“I don’t mean to panic you, but did you forget your uniform shirt? We can turn back and get it if you need to.”

“Oh no need, I have it right here!” she beamed, holding said shirt up. “Speaking of that, I’m so sorry but do you mind if I change into it here? I was running late and I just panicked and grabbed it off my chair instead of putting it on.”

Topper got an unreadable expression on his face, and she began to worry she made him uncomfortable. Ridiculous, since he had seen her naked, but maybe he was weird like that.

“Or maybe he doesn’t want to get in trouble in case someone drives by and sees you, you moron,” her little voice in her head told her.

“I can bend down, I promise I won’t flash any passerby. Scout’s honor,” she said, holding her hand up as if she was swearing an oath.

“Yeah no problem,” he responded, clearing his throat. “Of course, you change here. You don’t have to bend down either, it's okay. I doubt anyone will see.”

“Thank you,” she said, relief flooding through her. “Don’t look!” He let out a small chuckle in response, and ___ did her best to turn away from him so he wouldn’t see anything. She didn’t know why shyness came over her, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before. Before long, they arrived at the country club and she threw open the door.

“I’m only five minutes late because you drove so fast,” she beamed. “You’re the best.” She leaned over the console to kiss his cheek, and she swore she saw him blush but she didn’t have time to look twice as she ran into the building. With any luck, her manager would be hungover like he so often was and not even notice she wasn’t here.

***

Topper pulled into a nearby alleyway, mind absolutely scattered. He had tried so hard not to stare at ___ as she had changed in his car, a fucking Herculean task. He had kept sneaking glances over at her after she turned around, eyes darting to and from the road. 

And when she kissed him on the cheek? Forget it.

“Don’t do this Topper,” he told himself as he reached over for the shirt she had discarded on the floor. “It’s wrong on so many levels.”

He grabbed the shirt and before he could stop himself, he buried his face in it and took a deep inhale. It smelled just like her. 

Perfect.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, breathing in her shirt. It was only until he realized he was sporting a very prominent erection that he put it down.

He had two options here: hope it went away on its own, or...do something about it. 

“I should go home and hope it goes away,” he thought to himself as he began unzipping his pants. He reached past the waistband of his boxers; one hand was palming his cock while the other was grabbing her shirt tightly, holding it up to his face so he could breathe in her scent. 

His mind helpfully procured memories of their last encounter, and he could tell this would be quick. He thought about her deepthroating his cock, the way she rode him, and how she cried and threw her head back when she came. He was so overtaken with pleasure he didn’t even have it in him to be disgusted.

He began stroking himself harder, his breath becoming more ragged. He thought about the sounds they made together when he was fucking up into her; the lewd wetness of their bodies and how it felt to have his hips slamming up into hers. The memory sent another wave of pleasure through his body and he quickly moved his shirt up just in time before he came all over his lower abdomen. Thank god he kept napkins in his car.

***

Topper was adjusting his headphones in the gym when he heard something that caught his attention.

It was Friday night, not long before the gym closed, and a couple of the country club employees were working out after their shift. Topper didn’t pay them much attention until he caught a glimpse of Tyler and some of his friends at the bench press. He could feel his blood pressure rising at the mere sight of the man, and he was about to leave when he heard ___’s name leave the line cook’s mouth. 

“Yeah she’s hot as fuck bro, I work with her a lot cause shes a waitress.” His friends agreed and echoed his sentiment while Topper stood frozen, eye twitching. He fucking hated the way Tyler said her name with such familiarity, like he knew her, like he had any right to any part of her.

“Anyways, there’s a party tonight and she said she was going to be there. I’m so gonna fuck her, I think she’s into me.”

They continued talking as they finished their workout, but Topper could barely hear them over the blood pounding in his ears. He made his way to the locker room showers; looks like he’d need to teach Tyler a lesson.

***

Topper had waited until the locker room was almost empty before confronting Tyler. He was lucky, the man had been the last of his friends to leave which made what he was about to do a lot easier. He nonchalantly opened the locker a couple ones down from Tyler’s with the man not even looking up at him.

“Hey uh, Tyler right?” he tried to say as level headed as possible. He kept his eyes focused on the inside of his locker, trembling with barely contained rage.

“Uh yeah?” He gave Topper a confused look as if to wonder why the man was talking to him. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know ___ would you?” 

“Why the fuck do you care, you her man?” 

“Well, I—”

“Didn’t think so,” Tyler snorted and slammed the locker shut, turning to leave. 

Topper wasn’t exactly sure what happened next. One minute he was standing at his locker, the next he was on the floor with Tyler, holding him down and pummeling him in the face over, and over, and over again. 

He doubted he could stop even if he wanted to, it was as if his fists had a mind of their own. He didn’t want to stop though, the thought of any man, any person thinking they had any ownership over ___ at all was enough to send him into a blind rage. When he first knocked Tyler onto the floor, the man had retaliated with a good hit to the face. Topper swiftly punched him in the mouth, sending spurts of blood shooting everywhere. He felt some splatter onto his face but he didn’t care, he didn’t care about anything else but this and he would be damned if he was going to stop now. 

At some point Tyler stopped fighting back, and the lights in the gym began shutting off. Topper stood up—that was his cue to leave. 

Before he did that though, he washed the blood off his knuckles and fixed his hair. He looked at his reflection in the mirror; he couldn’t do much about the black eye that was forming, but he hoped ___ would buy whatever flimsy excuse he came up with on the fly. 

He looked back at now almost certainly unconscious Tyler, and the blood pooling around his face. A sense of satisfaction filled him—serves him right. With one last glance at his watch he was off; he didn’t want to keep ___ waiting. 

***

___ scanned the crowd for a familiar face before seeing Topper. She gave him a beaming smile before her eyes landed on the black eye he was sporting.

“Oh my god, what happened?” she gasped, hand reaching up for his face.

“Oh it’s nothing sweetheart,” he said, hand wrapping around hers. “Just krav maga practice.” 

His words left a heat in the pit of her stomach; he may have been a Kook but the fact he could fight definitely did something for her. Maybe it was her monkey brain, but the black eye and scuff marks on his cheekbone and hands were very sexy.

“Hey, have you seen Tyler? He said he was going to be here tonight,” she asked when she realized her coworker was absent. 

Topper’s jaw tensed up under her hand, though she couldn’t fathom why. “No, I haven't seen him. Maybe he changed his mind?”

“Oh, okay,” she shrugged. She was slightly disappointed, and Topper seemed to sense it.

“Hey I could use a drink. Want to show me where they are?” He threw his arm around her shoulders and she giggled, leading him to the alcohol. She ignored the warm feeling she got from him being so close, telling herself last time had been a one time thing and not to read into it too much. But when she looked up at him and caught his eyes, the look he gave her made that very, very hard. 

***

Topper gripped the steering wheel a little harder than usual when ___ entered his car the next day. He was about to greet her as normally as he could when he noticed her tearstained face. 

“Hey what’s wrong,” he murmured, turning his key and powering the car off. She must have heard. 

“Oh my god where do I begin,” she sniffled. “Do you know my friend Tyler?” 

“I’ve heard of him,” he gritted through his teeth, disliking how she referred to him as a friend.

“Well the craziest fuckin thing happened. You know how he wasn’t at the party last night? It’s because he got attacked!”

“Are you serious?” Topper exclaimed, trying to keep a straight face. He wouldn’t be able to explain his way out of being excited about this.

“Yeah someone beat him up in the gym locker rooms and he’s in the hospital right now.”

Good. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“Well that’s the thing. He’s in a coma and they...they don’t know when he’s going to wake up.” A fresh set of sobs racked her body and Topper pulled her in close to him, hand on the back of her head which she buried in his neck. He kept murmuring words of comfort in the hopes she would stop crying, and eventually they worked. She wiped her tears with the sleeves of his jacket, he had lent it to her one day when she forgot hers. 

“Do you think-when he wakes up, do you think you could take me to visit him?” she sniffled. “He’s my friend and I’d feel so bad if I didn’t see him. Oh god, what if he doesn’t even wake up?”

“Hey hey hey,” he said softly, holding her face in his hands and wiping her tears away with his thumbs. “He’s gonna wake up okay?” He fucking hoped not. “And of course I’ll take you. I’d love to.” No he wouldn’t. 

“Thanks,” she said, nuzzling her head down on his shoulder. “You’re sweet, you know that?”

“Mmmhm,” he hummed in response.

***

As the two of them made their way to the ICU, Topper’s mind was racing a mile a minute. ___ had gotten a call earlier that day from one of her friends saying Tyler had finally woken up from his coma. Since she didn’t have a car, Topper agreed to drive her and had been regretting that decision ever since. What if Tyler recognized him? It was possible his brain damage was so severe he wouldn’t, one could hope. 

But what if it wasn’t? That didn’t mean the man would say anything, but he couldn’t help but still be on edge as they entered his room. 

Bandages covered his face and blanket covered most of his body. This meant the man on the bed was barely recognizable as a person, and he heard ___ do a little gasp as she saw him. She quickly fixed her face and put a smile on, and Tyler did the same for about .5 seconds before he looked over to see Topper standing in the doorway. What little you could see of his face fell, and the tension that ensued was immediate. ___ didn’t seem to notice at first, sitting next to his bed asking him how he was. 

“This is my friend Topper, he gave me a ride because I don’t have a car,” she said introducing him. The two men stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, until ___ cleared her throat. 

“Yeah we’ve met,” Tyler said hoarsely, as if his vocal cords hadn’t been used in a while. Topper’s whole body was tense; would he say anything?

He didn’t end up doing that, but for the rest of their visit he gave short, terse answers. When the clock hit 7:00 pm, a nurse came in and informed them that visiting hours were over and that they needed to leave. ___ laid her hand on her friend gingerly, since he was in no position to hug anyone, and they left. 

“Did Tyler seem like he was acting a little strangely to you?” she asked Topper as they walked to his car. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know him that well. Maybe? I mean the man is waking up from a coma, I’m not sure how he’s supposed to be acting.”

“I guess,” she replied, but he could tell it was bothering her. 

***

Topper was getting ready for bed when he heard the doorbell ring. He opened the door to find ___ standing there, wearing his UNC Chapel Hill sweater. 

“Can I come in?” she asked, a look of distress on her face. He let her in, leading her up to his bedroom. As he closed the door behind him, he thought he heard her laying down on his bed, only to turn around and find her taking his sweater off. 

He stood there, frozen. She was wearing a pink nightgown, so silky in appearance he had the urge to reach out and feel it. There was white lace decorating the neckline, which made Topper want to pull it down. 

After barely managing to successfully pull his eyes away, he sat down next to her on his bed. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, as level as he could. 

“I just…I can’t shake the feeling that something else was wrong. Like Tyler was acting so weird today, and I think there was something more to what happened. But I keep asking around, and nobody knows what it is.”

It was here that Topper knew he needed to do damage control. If she kept nosing around, Tyler may end up revealing and Topper could not let that happen. He couldn’t.

“Sweetheart...I think I may know why he was acting weird,” he sighed deeply, like it pained him to say it. “But you may not like it.”

She looked at him with big, pleading eyes. “Please tell me, I just want some answers. Why does my friend suddenly act like he hates me?”

“Baby...I think it was you.”

Her face fell almost instantly. “What?” 

“Well he got attacked at work right?”

“...yeah?”

“And you work with him, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, I think because you’re in such close proximity to where he was attacked, he associates you with his attacker and being attacked. I mean think about—he gets attacked at work, you are there at work with him, all the time, because you two work together. Isn’t it only natural he’d associate you with it?”

She looked stricken, and for a moment Topper regretted saying it. But she couldn’t know the truth, it was better that she didn’t. She wouldn’t understand why he did it, she wouldn’t understand that he was doing this for her own good. 

He was doing this for her.

Her hand covered her mouth, muffling her sobs. He pulled her into him, burying her face in his neck as she cried; he could feel her tears staining his shirt while he simultaneously got an erection. He tried turning his hips away so she wouldn’t notice, but she began crying so hard he doubted she was noticing much of anything. He held the back of her head and murmured words of comfort, and pulled her in tighter. As she began to calm down, she pulled away and began wiping her tears away with her hands.

“Sorry about that, I just—it wasn’t very easy for me to hear that.”

“Of course baby,” he said softly, trying hard not to stare at her nipples peeking through the thin material of the nightgown. It was cold in his room, and he had tried very, very hard not to focus on them while he had been holding her, so as to not make his dick more obvious. Luckily she seemed oblivious to any inner turmoil that was going on with him, and sat back on his bed. 

“You’re so sweet, you know that?” she said, looking at him with a hazy look in her eyes and a small smile.

This time was much less drawn out than the last. They made eye contact for about three seconds before he dove forward and began kissing her. She brought her hands to his face and held it, while he pushed her back down onto the bed and caged her body with his. He sat back on his knees momentarily, pulling his shirt off, and then encased her body with his again. He held her waist tightly, hand trailing over her ass to the back of her thighs where he pulled her body into his. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he pressed his hard cock into her body, groaning at the friction. 

“Oh,” she whimpered, as he started kissing her neck. She let out a little gasp as he started getting lower, moving from her collarbones to the top of her chest. The nightgown left her very exposed, something he planned on taking advantage of. 

“Fuck baby I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he whispered hoarsely. “Last time I didn’t get to touch you like I wanted to but now? Now I can.”

He grabbed the neckline of her nightgown and pulled it down, focusing his attention on her chest. He began sucking bruises on her chest and her neck, and slowly began to make his way further down, leaving kisses on her body until he got to her underwear. He looked at her desperately, asking for permission that she granted with equal enthusiasm. She could barely nod a yes before he was practically ripping them off and going straight to it.

He could tell he caught her off guard by her gasp. Her back began arching at the feel of his tongue, and when he gave her a longer, more drawn out lick that made its way to her clit, she fisted the sheets and let out a whimper. He began dragging the tip of his tongue over he clit over and over and over again, until he felt her grab a fistful of his hair. The sensation made him let out a deep moan, and he went at it with a renewed vigor. He swirled his tongue around, tasting her, and he found himself digging his hips into the mattress for some form of relief. He pressed his face closer into her body and began sucking on her clit when she started to beg.

“Oh my god,” she said breathlessly. “Please, please.”

His hands wrapped around the top of her thighs and grabbed hard, spreading her legs open wider. One hand moved down and slid a finger into her pussy, hooking into her. He kept going even as her legs began trembling, and the ensuing stimulation was enough to push her over the edge as she cried out. He continued sucking on her clit as she rode out her orgasm until she had to push him away, face red and out of breath. 

“Sorry,” he said, undoing his pants and kicking them off. “I’ve just wanted to do that for a long time.” He came back down and brushed a lock of hair out of her face, holding himself steady with the other hand above her. He then held his cock with his hand, lined himself up, and pushed himself in in one go. 

She let out a gasp, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. He could feel her nails digging into his skin, and the shoots of pain sent waves of pleasure throughout his body. He began to rock his hips in and out, gaining a smoother rhythm while her hands roamed his back. He would occasionally give her shallow thrusts before slamming his hips into hers as deep as he could, relishing the way she gasped so fucking loudly. He hooked his arm under her leg, bringing it up and allowing him to go even deeper. He gritted his teeth at the way she cried out, willing himself not to cum too fast. That was going to be a fucking challenge, because she was already tightening around his cock and biting into his shoulder to stop herself from being any louder. 

“Fuck, sweetheart if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum,” he groaned into her neck. 

“Please,” she gasped, wrapping her legs around him. “I want you to fuck it inside me.”

She barely got those words out before he was slamming his hips into hers, cumming harder than he ever had before, letting out a string of curses. 

He collapsed on the bed next to her, breathing heavily. He felt her lay her head on his chest and wrap her arm around him, and it wasn’t long before he realized she’d fallen asleep. He stroked her hair softly, she must have been tired from all the emotional and physical release today.