#Type C Extender
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oglobalmart · 2 years ago
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fiona-fififi · 3 months ago
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#being a little petty again probably i don't know#but here's the thing#yeah things in literature/art/film/tv can often be interpreted in multiple different ways#but also there are absolutely multiple factors that go into interpreting a text#and there ARE incorrect interpretations#and if your interpretation hinges on assigning disproportionate significance#to a side character who has been shown time and time again to serve no purpose other than driving forward the narrative of another characte#even though the text had ample opportunity to build that character into the narrative and make them a character in their own right#intead of just a vehicle for a main#then. well. your interpretation really IS less valid#because texual analysis requires a consideration of a multitude of literary elements#and ignoring character type and overall characterization for a side character who has no true significance of their own#really just. isn't it.#anyway#anti bucktommy#anti tommy kinard#911 discourse#for real if one of my students handed me a paper with the interpretation that this dude is somehow buck's great love#i'd have an 'aww bless their heart' moment and likely give it a c#because there just isn't sufficient textual evidence if we take character type and characterization into account#especially with all of the other context around eddie#but even taking eddie and buddie completely out of the equation#this would read like just another flat side character meant to move buck forward#anyway anyway#like enjoy what you like but also maybe recognize the limitations of textual analysis and interpretation#instead of pretending that every interpretation is of equal validity because they just aren't#now that could change eventually as this is an ongoing text. but the chances seem slim#when they've admitted to extending the arc and yet the character's significance has not actually changed
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hayatheauthor · 10 months ago
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The Anatomy of Punching a Character in the Face
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Punching scenes are a staple of action sequences in many genres. Whether it’s an intense brawl, a quick defense, or an emotional outburst, a punch can carry a lot of weight both physically and narratively. As a writer, it’s essential to understand what really happens when a fist meets a face—from the immediate impact to the longer-lasting effects on both the person getting punched and the one throwing the punch.
This guide will help you craft authentic, detailed, and believable punch scenes by exploring different areas of the face, types of punches, and the aftermath of such an impact.
1. Target Areas of the Face and Their Vulnerabilities
A punch isn’t a one-size-fits-all situation. Depending on where the fist lands, the consequences will vary significantly. Different parts of the face have varying levels of vulnerability, and targeting these areas produces different effects, from knockouts to broken bones.
A. Jawline: The Knockout Zone
The jawline is a classic target in many fight scenes, especially when knockout punches are involved. This area is highly vulnerable because a hit here causes the head to snap to the side, leading to a sharp rotational movement of the brain inside the skull. This movement disrupts the brain’s communication and often results in a temporary loss of consciousness—what we commonly refer to as a "knockout."
Common Effects: Dislocation or fracture of the jaw, loss of consciousness, slurred speech, and severe pain.
Visual Aftermath: Swelling around the jawline, bruising, and possible misalignment of the jaw if broken.
B. Nose: Breaking and Bleeding
The nose is another vulnerable target, known for being easily broken. It’s not just a fragile bone structure, but it’s also connected to many blood vessels, meaning a direct punch to the nose often results in immediate bleeding. The nasal bone can fracture, causing difficulty in breathing, and in some cases, the nose may need surgical intervention to reset.
Common Effects: Intense pain, bleeding, difficulty breathing, potential for a broken nose.
Visual Aftermath: Blood running from the nostrils, swelling, and significant bruising around the nose and eyes.
C. Cheekbones (Zygomatic Bones): Bruising and Fractures
The cheekbones are one of the more solid structures in the face but are still susceptible to breaks, particularly from a heavy blow. Damage here can lead to not just bruising, but potentially severe injuries that can affect the entire facial structure.
Common Effects: Fractures of the zygomatic bone, swelling, bruising, and pain extending to the eye socket.
Visual Aftermath: Black eyes, noticeable swelling on one side of the face, and a sunken appearance if the bone is fractured.
D. Forehead: A Hard Target
The forehead is much harder than most parts of the face and is less vulnerable to severe damage. However, punches to the forehead can still cause pain, disorientation, and dazing of the recipient. While it’s less likely to result in a knockout, it’s effective in dazing an opponent, especially if the puncher’s goal is to create an opening for another strike.
Common Effects: Swelling, redness, and potential concussions if hit with enough force.
Visual Aftermath: Redness, minimal bruising, and a dazed expression.
E. Eyes: Black Eyes and Swelling
A punch to the eyes is particularly brutal because the area around the eyes is delicate, and the skin is thin. It’s not just about swelling but also potential damage to the orbital bones. The impact can cause "black eyes," characterized by intense bruising and swelling that may close the eye shut for days.
Common Effects: Swelling, black eyes, potential orbital bone fractures, temporary blurred vision.
Visual Aftermath: Discoloration that starts purple and turns yellowish-green as it heals, swollen shut eyes.
2. Types of Punches
Not all punches are created equal. The type of punch thrown can drastically change the outcome of the scene, both in terms of damage and realism. Understanding these different types of punches will allow you to convey more varied and dynamic fight sequences.
A. Jab: Speed and Precision
A jab is a quick, straight punch, usually thrown with the non-dominant hand. It’s not meant to be a knockout punch but more of a setup punch to create an opening or keep the opponent at a distance. Jabs are fast and can be disorienting, especially if they repeatedly land in quick succession.
Common Effects: Light bruising, potential cuts, and swelling in the area hit.
B. Cross: Power and Impact
The cross is a powerful, straight punch delivered with the dominant hand. It’s often aimed at vulnerable spots like the jaw or nose. Unlike a jab, the cross is meant to deliver a significant amount of force, and when landed properly, it can cause serious damage.
Common Effects: Knockouts, broken bones, severe swelling, and bruising.
C. Hook: Lateral Devastation
A hook is a wide, circular punch that targets the side of the head, particularly the jaw or temple. It’s one of the most powerful punches and is often used with the intent of knocking the opponent out.
Common Effects: Knockouts, severe disorientation, potential for concussions, and jaw dislocations.
D. Uppercut: Lifting from Below
The uppercut is thrown upward, usually aimed at the chin. It’s a devastating punch that can lift the opponent’s head and jolt their brain, leading to knockouts. Uppercuts are especially dangerous when they land cleanly on the jaw or chin.
Common Effects: Knockouts, broken teeth, jaw fractures, and disorientation.
E. Haymaker: Risky but Powerful
A haymaker is a wild, swinging punch delivered with as much force as possible. It’s often thrown with reckless abandon and is easy to dodge, but if it connects, it can deal significant damage. Because of its wide arc, it leaves the puncher exposed to counterattacks.
Common Effects: Knockouts, severe bruising, and possible fractures if landed correctly.
3. Punch Wounds: What They Look Like and Healing
Punches to the face leave lasting marks, some immediately visible and others taking days to fully form. Understanding the aftermath of a punch will help you describe the physical toll on your characters more accurately.
A. Immediate Effects
Swelling and Redness: Swelling can begin almost instantly, particularly in areas with soft tissue like the eyes and lips.
Bruising: Bruises start off as red, then turn purple, blue, and eventually fade into yellow or green as they heal.
Bleeding: Punches to the nose, lips, and even cheeks can result in bleeding, either from the skin breaking or from internal damage like a broken nose.
B. Long-Term Injuries
Black Eyes: Punches near the eyes can lead to bruising that darkens the skin around the eyes, giving it a purplish hue.
Fractures: Broken bones, such as the nose or jaw, may require weeks to heal, and in severe cases, surgery may be necessary.
Scarring: If the skin is cut open, there’s the potential for scarring, especially if stitches are required.
C. Healing Process
Bruises: These typically take about a week to two weeks to heal, with the colors shifting as the body absorbs the blood trapped under the skin.
Fractures: Healing from fractures can take several weeks to months, depending on the severity.
Swelling: Swelling can last anywhere from a few hours to a few days, with cold compresses helping to reduce it.
4. How the Punch Affects the Puncher
While we often focus on the person receiving the punch, it’s important to remember that throwing a punch can also take a toll on the puncher.
A. Physical Strain
Knuckle Damage: Hitting a hard surface, like a jaw or forehead, can cause damage to the puncher’s knuckles. This is known as a “boxer’s fracture,” where the small bones in the hand break due to impact.
Wrist Injury: If the punch is not aligned correctly, the wrist can absorb too much force, leading to sprains or breaks.
Fatigue: After multiple punches, especially in a drawn-out fight, the puncher can become fatigued, leading to less powerful or accurate strikes.
B. Emotional and Psychological Effects
Adrenaline Rush: For inexperienced fighters, throwing a punch can lead to an adrenaline surge, which can cause tunnel vision or reckless behavior.
Moral Conflict: If the puncher is not used to violence, they may experience guilt or shock at the damage they’ve caused, especially if the recipient is significantly injured.
5. Psychological Impact of Receiving a Punch
A punch to the face doesn’t only cause physical damage. For the recipient, it can have a lasting psychological effect, especially if the punch was unexpected or in a vulnerable situation. Writing this aspect adds depth to your characters and shows that a punch is more than just physical pain.
A. Shock and Fear
Fight or Flight Response: Getting punched can immediately trigger a fight-or-flight reaction. Some characters might freeze or retreat, especially if they’ve never been in a physical altercation before.
Loss of Confidence: For characters not used to violence, being punched in the face may cause a significant loss of confidence. They may question their own strength, bravery, or ability to defend themselves.
Increased Aggression: Alternatively, the punch may trigger a rage-fueled response, pushing the character into aggressive, reckless action.
B. Embarrassment and Humiliation
Public Fights: If the punch occurs in front of others, there’s often an added layer of humiliation. Characters might feel embarrassed, even if they weren’t at fault.
Internalizing the Event: The recipient of the punch may carry the emotional impact for a long time, replaying the event in their mind, feeling shame, or seeking revenge.
C. Post-Traumatic Stress
Lingering Anxiety: In extreme cases, receiving a punch can cause anxiety or even post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Characters who’ve experienced significant trauma might relive the event through flashbacks or become hyper-vigilant, avoiding confrontations in the future.
Fear of Future Confrontations: A character who’s been severely beaten might actively avoid scenarios where they could be hit again, making them overly cautious or paranoid.
6. Writing Tips: Making It Believable
Writing a punch scene isn't just about describing the physical action. To make the moment believable and impactful, you’ll need to consider various elements—from pacing and sensory details to character psychology and aftermath. Here’s how to make your punch scenes authentic:
A. Build Tension Before the Punch
Foreshadowing Conflict: Build up the tension before the punch is thrown. Is the character agitated? Are there verbal warnings or body language that suggests things are escalating? By slowly ramping up the tension, the eventual punch feels earned and inevitable.
Use Dialogue: A heated exchange of words can make a punch more meaningful. If the punch follows a particularly cutting remark or threat, it adds weight to the action.
B. Focus on Sensory Details
Physical Sensations: Describe not just the punch itself, but how it feels. Does the skin split? Does the puncher’s knuckles scrape against teeth or bone? Is there an immediate sting or delayed throbbing pain?
Sound: The sound of a punch can enhance the realism of the scene. A dull thud as a fist connects with soft tissue, the crack of a bone breaking, or the splatter of blood hitting the floor are all effective auditory details.
C. Show Immediate and Delayed Reactions
Physical Reaction: After being punched, characters rarely shake it off immediately. Staggering, falling, or momentarily losing their vision are realistic reactions. You can also show how the puncher feels—did their hand hurt from the impact?
Emotional Fallout: Punches are often emotional events. Show how your characters feel right after—whether it’s satisfaction, regret, or shock. The emotional weight of a punch can be just as impactful as the physical consequences.
D. Consider the Aftermath
Healing Process: Don’t forget that punches have a lasting impact. A black eye will take days to heal, and a broken nose could require medical attention. Characters might have to deal with soreness, swelling, or difficulty talking and eating.
Ongoing Tension: A punch can dramatically shift relationships. A once-trusting friendship could be shattered, or a bitter rivalry could be born. Make sure to carry the emotional weight of the punch forward in your story.
7. Common Misconceptions About Punching
Many writers fall into the trap of perpetuating unrealistic portrayals of punches. These misconceptions can make your scenes feel less authentic or overly cinematic. Here’s how to avoid them.
A. The Myth of the "Clean Knockout"
Reality: A punch to the jaw might cause a knockout, but it’s not always instant. In real life, knockouts are often messy and unpredictable. The recipient might stagger or struggle before finally losing consciousness, and they could wake up with serious concussions, memory loss, or nausea.
B. Punches Always Cause Immediate Bleeding
Reality: While a punch to the nose often causes immediate bleeding, not all punches result in visible blood. Even when skin splits, it might take a moment for blood to pool and become visible. Bruising and swelling often take hours to fully appear.
C. Punching Doesn’t Always Lead to a Win
Reality: Throwing a punch doesn’t guarantee victory. The puncher could hurt themselves, miss entirely, or end up escalating a fight they weren’t prepared for. Additionally, punches to the forehead or temple might not have the knockout effect portrayed in movies—they could just make the puncher’s hand hurt more than the opponent.
Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 
Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Quillology with Haya Sameer; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors! While you’re at it, don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 
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xinganhao · 5 months ago
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🫶 svt reacts to you saying 'i love you' on accident.
★ prompt: Ot13 reaction to you saying I love you for the first time (possibly kind of by accident) 🥰 c/o anon
ⓘ friends to lovers vibes, flirting, pet names. headcanons under the cut.
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🫶 read more?
seungcheol tries to take it in stride. really, he does. he's convinced he can be very normal about this, even though it will probably have him preening the whole day. he's always thrived most on words of affirmation, and what's more affirming than the truth?
jeonghan's joking, of course. he knows deep down that your little slip doesn't immediately entail a relationship, but he's definitely intent on going out swinging. the light teasing is an attempt to get you to think about a time where you can freely say 'i love you' to him every day.
there's a fair amount of sincerity in joshua's reaction. his first thought is to make sure that you're okay with it, since he has some idea that you've probably tripped on the words. but give him that leeway and he'll take it in a heartbeat. you've started saying it; he'll never let you hear the end of it.
if junhui manages to feign nonchalance, it's because of his acting prowess. he's smug and giddy, though he's not about to let you know that. he's the type to pull the rug underneath you a couple of days later, right when you've probably forgotten it. "so…" he'll drawl. "how much do you love me, hm?"
to no one's surprise, soonyoung is decisively not chill about it. this is A Big Deal to him! an 'i love you'? something he's wanted to hear for ages? he needs to make sure he's not dreaming. there's the dopiest smile on his face, because you love him. it's the best thing he's heard.
wonwoo's hands are shaking. his throat is suddenly dry, and he's relatively sure his brain has short-circuited. it's— just an offhand thing. at least that's what he tries to convince himself. the reality: he's going to be replaying the words in his head for weeks on end.
it doesn't strike jihoon immediately. maybe it hits him once you're gone; maybe it occurs to him when the moment has already passed. one thing's for sure: he's not going to let it go unanswered. he's a little late, not on time, but that doesn't mean he doesn't mean it. you know that, right?
the words make something bloom and blossom in seokmin's chest. they take root like a promise, and even though he tries not to get ahead of itself, it's hard. he's so, so happy to hear it from you that he'll be walking on clouds for the days to come.
mingyu doesn't hate you. that much is certain. he just hates the power you have over him— how you can upend his entire day with a couple of choice words. he had thought he'd be stronger than this, but here he is. panicking because of 'ily'? god, he can't afford to be in shambles like this.
ever the rational type, minghao will be the type to press, "how do you love me?" he can't afford any missteps, needs to know you're on the same page. if you love him as a friend, then so be it. but if there's a prospect for anything more, even just a minute worth of it… well. he would like to know.
joking about it is a coping mechanism. that's something seungkwan subscribes to, at the very least. it gives him time to gather his wits, this whole keeping-up-a-facade thing. (ask anyone: he had been smiling a little too hard at his phone when your text came in. the eyes never lie.)
rarely is vernon thrown off his game like this. he's not supposed to be melting over a flippant 'ily', and yet here he is— trying (and failing) to be cool about your slip-up. can you blame him? he's wanted you for so long, and the words can be as good as a promise if he really wanted them to be.
you're not playing fair. chan has half a mind to make you suffer, to not give you the satisfaction of a reaction. alas, he's always had a soft spot for you. that extends to unquestioning forgiveness, and reciprocity where it matters. yes, even in accidental confessions.
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› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao
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bruhstories · 6 months ago
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Bet II
p.1 here & p3. here & p.4 here & p.5 here & p.6 here
summary: it's your first day as a cat sitter and things are going more than well. but will they stay that way? pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, mentions of domestic violence, veeeery slow burn, reader is an orphan w/c: 2.2k
a/n: hiii, this is pretty much reader's pov, but don't worry, we'll see things through in-ho's eyes in chapter 3! if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post.
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You woke up at five in the morning on the first day of your temporary job. It took you about fifteen minutes to walk to the bus stop, and another fifteen to get to Gangnam-gu by bus, but you needed to prepare breakfast for your uncle first. The last thing you wanted was to anger him. You washed a cup of rice and tossed it in the rice cooker before slicing some pickled radish and a fresh cucumber and carrot. While waiting for the rice to cook, you fried some tofu that you had marinated in gochujang the night before.
Around six you woke your uncle up with the bowl of bibimbap and a cup of freshly brewed coffee, but didn't stay long enough to hear him tell you off about how bad his coffee tasted, or how cold the rice was, all completely false statements. It was just the way your life was since your father passed away and your mother left the country. But you couldn't afford your own place, and you probably wouldn't any time soon, so you took odd jobs to stay away from him and pay his stupid debts.
You made it just in time for Eunjoo's breakfast, stepping through the door at 6:50. There was no cat in sight yet, but the moment you opened the food can, Eunjoo peeked from around the sofa, silently sneaking behind you, apprehensive about rubbing against your leg. She waited next to the water bowl as you scooped the food out and mashed it with the spoon, then bent down to place her plate on the silicone mat on the floor. 
It was only after you got back up that you noticed the mess in Mr. Hwang's penthouse. There were so many dishes in the sink, empty bottles of beer scattered on the dining table, an ashtray full of cigarette butts, takeaway boxes stacked on the countertop, a half-full coffee cup, tissues on the floor. You definitely remembered that his house was clean when you first visited him. Too clean, even, like he suffered from mysophobia. You had a lot to do in that house. And then there was Eunjoo, who, for some reason, refused to eat her breakfast despite sitting patiently next to her ceramic plate, tail curled around her paws.
Panic seeped into your veins as you urged the cat to eat, crouching next to her in hopes that she only needed a little encouragement, but Eunjoo stood her ground. You didn't know what to do, the mess was overwhelming and you frantically paced around the kitchen like a headless hen, not knowing what to do first — wash the dishes, take out the trash, force feed the cat. As though Mr. Hwang could see you, your phone vibrated with a text from him.
Good morning. Sorry about the mess, I had a little gathering last night before my trip. Is everything alright? In-ho 
A little gathering? He had a full-blown party! Maybe it was his birthday, or he had a bachelor party. But the mess wasn't important, Eunjoo was. You quickly saved his number in your contacts list and typed a reply.
Morning! Don't worry about the mess, I'll deal with it later. Eunjoo's not eating, though. Should I take her to the vet? She seems healthy, but I’m worrying.
You waited for his text while sitting on the floor, one hand extended for the cat to sniff it. She did, then went back to her plate, simply looking at you, staring directly into your soul with bright green eyes.
Ding!
Oh, I forgot to mention that she only eats breakfast and dinner when I do. You're going to have to eat something. There's plenty of food in the fridge. 
Well, that changed things. You typically had one meal a day since most of the food back home was eaten by your uncle, and you didn't want to pry into Mr. Hwang's fridge and pantry. Rummaging through your backpack, you found a half-eaten bag of shrimp crackers and shrugged. It was good enough for you if it meant she ate.
"My food." You told Eunjoo while holding the bag, giving it a small shake. "Your food." You pointed at her plate.
As if she could understand your words, Eunjoo turned to her breakfast while you munched on the crackers, nibbling on them slowly to save some for later. God only knew when you could have some more food. When her plate was empty, you twisted the bag of remaining snacks and put it back into your backpack before getting up from the tiled floor. 
"Okay." You told yourself. "First thing's first — scoop the poop."
There were two litter boxes in the penthouse, one in the guest bathroom and one in the en-suite. You checked both without paying much attention to your surroundings, and threw away all the clumps of pee and litter, then turned the TV on to play some music. You started off strong with some upbeat songs, a little rock, a bit of pop. Your father raised you on international music. Queen, in particular, was his favourite band, and so your playlist was full of their songs.
Don't Stop Me Now was perfect for doing the dishes. First, you put away all the dry plates and cutlery before emptying the sink. You didn't even bother trying to turn on the dishwasher, your hands worked better and faster, and with the speed of light, like Freddie Mercury sang, you finished washing all the dishes. Each time you rinsed a plate, you turned the tap off, careful not to waste any water. If there was one good thing about not being rich, it was that you learned to truly care about the environment, and tried your best to fight climate change. But you weren’t perfect. No one was. There were skeletons in your closet.
As the song came to an end, you tackled the takeaway boxes. You found the bin and threw away any leftover bits of food that were inedible, saving the cardboard boxes for recycling, along with the beer bottles. The penthouse was looking better by the minute, and after wiping the table and countertop, vacuuming and mopping the floor, you took your phone out and snapped a picture for Mr. Hwang. 
Kitchen and dining room done!
You pressed send and checked the time — 9:00. Shit, your other job was starting soon. Hastily, you turned the TV off, rinsed Eunjoo's water bowl and filled it with fresh water before checking the automatic feeder. It was still half-full, so you put your shoes on and left with the recyclables and trash bag.
"I'll be back tonight, kitty!"
The bin room was easy to find, and satisfied with the work you did, you went back to Guryong Village, where you taught Ali Abdul and his wife Korean. They couldn't afford to pay you, but when they could, they fed you, and that was all that mattered. It was the only meal you didn't need to share with your uncle, and it was more than enough to keep you going through the day. 
At 12:00 you took two buses to Lotte World, where you worked part-time as a mascot, from one to seven, boiling in the purple bear suit. You didn't mind it when you saw how happy the children were, though. Their smiles and happiness mattered more than how uncomfortable you felt, and on the bright side, it kept you very warm in winter. You had to look for positives, didn't you? Life wouldn't be enjoyable if all you did was focus on the negativity and unfairness of it. And life had been nothing but cruel to you. Yet, you persevered. 
You left the theme park at 7:15 and took the bus back to Gangnam-gu, drenched in sweat. The cold November air made you shiver under the coat as you stepped down the street, making your way to Mr. Hwang's penthouse for the second time that day. Kicking your shoes off, you kept the coat, because the apartment was chilly, and you tried to find the thermostat before feeding Eunjoo. 
Good evening! I hope your trip is going well! It's getting quite cold and I was wondering if I could turn the heating on, more for Eunjoo than for me. 
When there was no reply, you shrugged and opened a can of food, placing the plate on the mat, like you did in the morning, then took out a food container from your bag with leftover chicken karahi from Mrs. Abdul. She was kind enough to give you more, and you took out a plate from Mr. Hwang's kitchen to heat it in the microwave.
Eunjoo ate when you did, as she did in the morning, and you found it interesting that she didn't immediately dig in like your cousin's cat used to do. She had good manners, you thought with a smile. The food warmed you up a bit, and you washed the plate and chopsticks after you were done, but the warmth was soon replaced by a chill running down your spine. You had to start layering up for winter.
Ding!
Good evening, miss. My apologies for not replying quicker, work is hectic. Please turn the heating on and stay the night to make sure Eunjoo is warm.
Oh, that was straightforward. You chuckled at the text, but you couldn't stay the night. Instead, you walked back to the thermostat and searched the brand online to set a timer. You tested it first to make sure it worked, and when it did, you set the heating on every 3 hours. It should be enough for Eunjoo to stay warm. 
I appreciate it, sir, but I can't stay over. My uncle would be upset. I put the timer on and it works, I checked. I'll send you a picture after I scoop the poop and tidy up.
You sent the text and inspected the litter boxes. Eunjoo had the stinkiest poops you had ever sniffed, and as you scooped it out of the box, you couldn't help but talk to her. She was watching you from the corner of the guest bathroom, pupils blown at every movement you made, studying you.
"Girl, this is foul." You laughed, tying up the small bin bag. "Is it even normal for your shit to reek like this?" 
Eunjoo lost interest in you when you were done with her box and ran under the bed in Mr. Hwang's bedroom, while you walked back into the kitchen, dropping the bin bag next to your shoes. You filled a tall glass with water and searched for all the plants in the house, stopping at a small cactus in the living room.
When was the last time you watered the cactus?
Ding!
You got the reply quicker than you expected. It usually took In-ho a few minutes to get back to you, but you read it and laughed.
I don't remember. 
Typical for men to forget, you thought as you watered the plant. 
Ding!
Another text? You took your phone out and read it.
Why would your uncle be upset?
The question soured your mood, and you took a few steps back to sit on the edge of the sofa. It wasn't a subject you liked to talk about. In fact, it was a subject you refused to talk about, but Mr. Hwang had been nothing but kind to you, and you felt like you owed him an explanation. No, you felt compelled to give him an explanation, as though you couldn’t just tell him to mind his business.
He took me in after my dad died. He can be quite strict. It's not that I have to go back home, but if he doesn't have breakfast and a coffee when he wakes up, he'll tell me off.
Okay, so you didn't exactly explain your situation. Mr. Hwang didn't need to know all the details, all the beatings and all the insults, all the money he took from you to pay his debts. But hey, at least you had a roof over your head, right?
You washed Eunjoo's plate and water bowl and left them to dry while sorting out In-ho's laundry — whites with whites, blacks with blacks. There weren’t many colourful clothes, which you thought was normal for a man his age.  You were going to wash them in the morning, but you worked smart and hard, and so you wanted them to be ready for the next day. Loading the machine with the whites, you made sure Eunjoo didn't sneak in it and closed the door, then took a shower in the guest bathroom. 
Just as you promised, you brought your own soap and towel, and let the hot water wash away the dirt and dust accumulated throughout the day. It felt good not having to boil water to wash yourself, and you made a mental note to thank Mr. Hwang somehow when he returned from his trip. Perhaps you could cook him a meal and buy a new toy for Eunjoo, although she didn’t seem very playful, at least not when you were around. Stepping out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your body, you took a moment to enjoy being able to walk around half-naked with no one to disturb you. 
Thank you for letting me take a shower. Eunjoo is sleeping, the plants have been watered, and I’m ready to go home. Good night, Mr. Hwang!
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tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @nomugglesallowed @awekbachira @hobiesbrowngf @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair
i hope i didn't miss anyone or tagged the wrong people lmaooo
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 6 months ago
Note
omg can u do a small drabble where we’re arguing w toji and whenever we ask him a question he just reply’s with “no maam” or “yes maam” i need these so bad.
Yes Mam
Tags: Toji x fem!Reader, drabble, very slight angst, more fluff and crack than anything lol
An: Hiii! Thanks for your submission! I hope you don’t mind, but I added some period comfort throughout lol.
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It had been a bad day.
It was the first and most brutal day of your period, and everything had been going wrong so far.
“Toji Fushiguro!” You shouted as your bottom touched the bitter cold toilet water. With no toilet seat to catch you, you had fallen right inside the bowl.
Your husband had a bad habit of leaving it up in the mornings. He was groggy when waking up, and he would forget to put the seat back down for you. When he was awake, he’d make a conscious effort to put it down so you wouldn’t fall in.
You were usually cautious enough to check before sitting down, but today you were in a rush and in too much of a pained headspace to think about checking. Thus, you had fallen right inside the golden throne with your knees to your chest and your bottom all cold and wet.
“Mam?” Toji replied as he peaked his head into the bathroom. His face contorted into the tightest expression to fight back a laugh. He knew that if he laughed at you right now, your mood would he sour for the rest of the day.
“You left the goddamn toilet seat up!” You whined, trying your best to let out a frustrated growl. Toji found you to be more cute than intimidating.
“I’m sorry, babydoll. Come here. Let me help you.” He said as he walked into the bathroom, extending his arm out to you as a peace offering.
You shook your head, deciding to get yourself up. You didn’t want peace. You needed retribution for his cosmic sin!
Toji watched as you climbed out of the toilet bowl. His lips were still pressed in a thin line. He could not even crack a smile right now.
“Did you even take out the trash like I asked?” You asked with a pointed gaze. Now, it was time to see what other misdeeds Toji had committed.
“Yes mam.” He replied as his gaze softened. He knew you were having a rough time and needed to vent out some frustrations. Too bad for you, Toji had been working around the house since he got out of bed this morning.
“What about the dishes-?”
“Washed and put away, mam.”
“…Okay… what about that leaky faucet? Did you get it fixed?”
“Yes mam.”
“Oh… uh.. What about the light bill?”
“Paid it this morning, mam.”
“Stop calling me that.” You finally snapped with a small pout. You were interrogating him like his mother, and he was responding to you as if you were his mom. It was weird and unsettling. “I’m doll or baby or some weird mixture of both — not mam.” Your lips curled into a pout that had Toji finally giving you his lopsided grin.
“C’mere, dollface.” He grunted as you got back decent and walked over to him, leaning into his embrace. He pressed a firm kiss to your forehead. “I got it, okay? You go relax in bed for the day. I know ya ain’t feeling good.”
You melted under his touch and caring tone. Toji didn’t seem like the type to be so gentle and patient, but it came easy when it was with you. He adored you, and he felt this innate desire to just provide and take care of you.
“I’m sorry.” You murmured weakly into his chest, and Toji rubbed soothing circles into your back.
“I know. It’s okay.” He assured you quietly before taking your hand and leading you back to your shared bedroom. He already had you a little spot prepared with your favorite blanket, a heating pad, pain medicine, and a cup of water.
Once he got you settled in, he handed you your nintendo switch and dimmed the lights. “Text me if ya need me, doll. I’m going out to try to fix that tire pressure sensor in your car.” He informed.
“Okay..” You replied in a shaky tone. Your eyes were full of tears. No one had ever taken care of you like Toji does. He’s truly set an unattainable standard for anyone else to reach.
“Don’t cry.” Toji laughed as he brushed the tears away from your cheeks. Your hormones must be affecting you like crazy to make you go from seething to crying within a minute.
“I love you, Toji.” You said, nuzzling your face into his arm.
“I love you too, mam.” He replied with a small kiss to your cheek and a head pat. You shot him a small glare from that dreadful nickname he has developed.
Toji quickly fled the room before your hormones could shift again.
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onlymingyus · 8 months ago
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What's your favorite scary movie?
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pairing; vernon chwe x f reader
genre; horror, smut (minor dni), angst, toxic
summary; The summer after graduating high school is supposed to be one last hurrah before you and your friends head off to college---none of you expected it to become a horror movie.
content warnings; PLEASE READ ALL OF THE WARNINGS! 90s au, multiple murders, police, alluding to self harm, drugs/alcohol (mentioned and usage), overdose, knives, blood -- detailed scenes of harm/murder, funeral/memorials, fighting, bullying/harassment, degrading names, "slut" shaming, mild alluding to sexual assault (past/present), self confidence/esteem issues, depression, alludes to other behavioral/mental problems being present, crying, stalking/spying, obsession, yandere!vernon. all main characters are adults -- just graduated high school (vernon & other svt cameos have been aged down). the reader has a classic small town suburbs nuclear family (mentions parents obviously), vernon's "mother" briefly mentioned. this fic is full of really horrible people.
smut warnings; virgin!reader, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), quick handjob, crying (pleasure), corruption/innocence kink, petnames, praise, pulling out, cum on skin -- aftercare, brief post-sex dysphoria.
w/c; 30k and some change  (870 extra words for patreon bonus) 
a/n; thank you to @junkissed for proofreading for me and giving me strength to push through and finish this despite all the shit that kept trying to knock me down. this fic is a lot, so please if you have made it this far in my notes make sure you read all the warnings -- keep in mind this is my halloween fic, so i didn't hold back. dark au mars is back strong.
before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here
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Trailing behind your friends, you laugh when your best friend Caitlin pulls at your arm, urging you towards the front of the group. “Y/N!” You roll your eyes as she whines your name, extending the last of it dramatically before laying her head on your shoulder and putting her arm through yours. “Can I sit between you and Christen this time? This movie is supposed to be hella scary.” 
Hearing his name, the self-appointed leader of your group, slows his strides to match yours and, in turn, Caitlin’s. “What about me?” 
You liked your friends but they could be a bit much. You had known Caitlin the longest. The two of you had been friends since middle school and she was the person you could rely on the most, but that all changed when the two of you went to high school and your bodies and personalities started to change. Boys started to pay attention to you more and Caitlin’s personality soured. 
Christen wasn’t the type of person that you ever saw yourself being friends with before. He was the most popular guy at school and the captain of the football team, but none of those things mattered anymore. After graduation this year, you thought all of those trivial things would fall by the wayside, that your friends would start acting a bit less like they were still in high school and yet it was like they never left. 
“Caitlin wants to sit between us for the movie. It’s supposed to be really scary. I don’t min—” 
“You know I like the end seat.” 
Furrowing your brows, you start to speak up again when Christen sighs and puts his hand around your waist, pulling you from Caitlin and causing the girl to scowl at you. “I like the end seat and you always have to piss like five times during a movie. Let’s keep the seats like we always do. That okay with you, Cat?” 
Staring at Christen, Caitlin wants to be mad and tell him no, but the moment he calls her by the nickname he had given her, she swoons and just nods. “Uh huh… sure, Christen.” 
“See.” Turning his attention back to you, Christen winks. “It’s all good, baby. Now, put a smile on that face; don’t be a buzzkill. If you get scared, you can just hold on to me.” Tugging you closer, he grins before finally letting you walk on your own. 
From the time that you had met him your sophomore year, Christen had never been shy about how he felt about you. You wouldn’t call it a crush. A crush was something sweet and something that, if you didn’t reciprocate, the other person might move on. What Christen felt for you was possessive and like you owed him something. You were like a target or an end prize and he hadn’t won just yet, but to him there were still plenty of levels left in the game. 
Wrapping your arms around yourself, you glance back at Caitlin as she scoffs at her "boyfriend,” Jae. You felt bad for him. It was so obvious how much he liked Caitlin. He would follow behind her like a puppy, buy her anything she wanted, and be at her beck and call even when she was drooling over another guy. You had watched as Caitlin had belittled Jae in front of others and refused to call him her boyfriend but then gotten angry if he didn’t refer to her as his girlfriend. It was a complicated situation that you honestly didn’t understand. 
“Just… Stop touching me. Did you bring money for candy?” Caitlin’s voice is sharp, still irritated from the interaction with Christen and now Jae was walking too close to her. In her mind, she always got second best while you did nothing and got first pick. You didn’t even act like you wanted Christen; it was devastating. 
“Yeah, of course I did. You can get anything you want, babe.” Jae’s voice is a bit defeated, but at least he was going to be able to sit next to Caitlin. He had gotten nervous when she had asked to switch seats. It wasn’t like he could tell her where to sit... he wasn’t like that. She was a strong-willed girl; she always had been, but that was one of the things he loved about her. 
Making a face at Jae’s words, Caitlin steps forward and sighs dramatically, not hearing the way Alanna and Juwon copy her just a few steps behind her. They were the lucky two out of the friend group in their own personal opinions. They knew exactly where they fit in the hierarchy. 
There was the king, Christian, and his would-be queen if only you would accept his hand. The princess who wants to be queen, Caitlin, and her dog turned prince, Jae. Meanwhile, Alanna and Juwon belonged in the court together. They were happy to cheer each of you on and laugh when you failed. 
They had been dating since freshman year and a day hadn’t gone by that someone was complaining about seeing Juwon’s tongue down Alanna’s throat. Another strong opinion that the two shared was that if you didn’t want to see them making out, you could look in the other direction. 
“Babeeeee!” Alanna whines mocking Caitlin as she pulls on Juwon’s arm, causing the boy laugh as he looks at her fondly. “Buy me candy?” Batting her lashes, Alanna blows a kiss in his direction that Juwon pretends to catch before reaching into his pocket to take out his wallet, handing it to her. 
“My money is your money, princess.” Another wave of laughter erupts from the back of the group as Alanna pushes Juwon’s wallet back towards him. Now the two have caught the attention of everyone. 
“The hell are you two doing? Are you high?” Christen’s voice is stern, but the layer of his own amusement only serves to make Juwon laugh as he shakes his head and pulls Alanna forward towards the doors of the theater. 
“Nope, not yet. Give me a few hours and I’ll be so fuckin’ chill I might not remember your name.” 
Smiling, you lift your fingers to your lips to hide it as Alanna pokes at your side when she passes by you, giving you a wink. For all their heavy PDA and following the leader's behavior, you got along with them well. They had been nice to you, even when your best friend hadn’t. 
“Ugh, as if. You can’t think now, Juwon. This is why you two are going to a community college. You’ve fucking rotted your brains with weed. It’s gross.” Caitlin watches as Alanna throws up her middle finger before blowing her a kiss and disappearing behind the theater door. “It is gross. I’m right, aren’t I, Y/N?” 
You tilt your head and struggle with what to say as you all get closer to the doors that your friends had just gone through. “I—well. It’s their choice.” Feeling bad that you can’t just tell Caitlin to shut up and to leave Juwon and Alanna alone, you find yourself muttering as she scoffs, turning her attention to Jae for support who gives it willingly. 
Feeling the weight of having to agree with Caitlin off your shoulders, you unzip your bag, the air conditioner hits you like a breeze when Christen opens the doors and steps inside. You purse your lips and fish out a five-dollar bill, not paying attention to what’s in front of you until you hear Christen’s and another guy’s voice. 
“Wassup, man? Still manning this place like a fucking loser?” 
“Still making money, so yeah, if that’s what you wanna call it. Just one?” 
“Nah, two. Me and Y/N.” 
Furrowing your brows, you lift your money up to show it to Christen just as you see who’s behind the ticket counter. Vernon Chwe, another member of your graduating class. You didn’t know him well, but as often as you and your friends came to the movies, you saw him in passing. He was always nice to you, and he was easy on the eyes. 
“Already paid for. See…” Reaching over the counter, Christen rips two tickets for himself before winking at Vernon and passing one to you. 
You can see the irritation written on Vernon’s face, but he manages to keep his cool. He wasn’t like Christen or anyone else in your group. He didn’t hang out in the commons area or at the mall like you did. You knew that he worked here and that he had a cool car. You found him intriguing. 
Moving towards Christen quickly, you take the ticket and look at Vernon apologetically. “I’m sorry. That was so rude.” Looking up at your friend, you whine, “That wasn’t cool, Christen...” 
Instead of offering his own apology to Vernon, Christen just laughs and taps you on the tip of your nose. “Whatever, baby. Don’t get mad about it. I’m just playin’ with Vern. Come on. Let me buy you a snack.” 
Vernon watches as Christen tries to take your hand but you manage to keep it from him. Tilting his head, he finds it curious. He didn’t know if you were dating the guy or not, but he didn’t like him; he never had. 
“Um, excuse me... Dodgy, loser, man? I need two tickets.” 
Turning his attention back towards Caitlin, Vernon sighs and rips off two tickets before taking $10 from Jae. “Enjoy the movie.” The moment she is out of earshot, Vernon adds, “Bitch.” 
He could hear you and your friends at the concession stand. It wasn’t a busy night and the theater wasn’t running a full staff. If it had been any other group, Vernon might have put a bit more pep in his step, making his way over from the counter, but he could already hear the bitchy girl complaining, so he took his time. 
“Oh, my god. Does this place not have anyone else working?” 
Muttering for Caitlin to hush, you rub your neck as Vernon sighs and moves to the middle of the concession stand before lifting his hands. “What can I get for you guys?” He didn’t really care; well, maybe he cared what you wanted. You had been kind to him and it wasn’t the first time. Every time he had seen you here or run into you at school, you were nice. You were also gorgeous, so that didn’t hurt your case either. 
“Two large cokes, a medium popcorn, and some M&Ms. Also, could you like... not take all night? The movie is supposed to start in thirty minutes.” Leaning on the counter, Caitlin watches as Vernon shifts his head to the side slightly before grabbing two large cups and filling them with ice. She remembered him from school and the other times they had been here. He was weird. She had a few classes with him and he had always sat in the back and avoided talking to people except when he had to. 
“Oh my god, Y/N, do you remember Miss Lewis’ calculus class from that last semester?” 
Taken aback by Caitlin’s question, you look from her back towards the counter before tilting your head. “I—yeah? What about it?” This was the type of thing that you hated about your friends. They lived in the past; every day was still a day of the glory of high school, whereas you were ready to move on. 
“This dude was in that class. We had that stupid ass icebreaker, remember? Like a weird fact about us? He said he was allergic to peanuts.” Cailtin snorts into a laugh as she meets Vernon’s eyes, his brow lifting to her memory. 
“Well—I, I remember—” 
“Man, that must fuckin’ suck. Can you eat anything? What happens if you eat a peanut? Would you die? Swell up like a fatass.” 
Juwon had been doing so well until that moment, but he was good at following the leader and at that moment Caitlin was playing her best queen bully bee role. Beside you, Christen laughs under his breath before leaning on the counter as Vernon tries to ignore them, fixing the rest of the order before giving the total to Jae, who slides over the money. 
“Anyone else want anything? I’d hate for you to miss the previews because you’re being assholes.” 
Surprised by Vernon’s words, the laughter dies off. No smiles are left except a slight one on your face. 
Christen doesn’t say anything before he reaches over to take a box of milk duds from the display showing them to Vernon and tossing a dollar bill on to the counter. “Thanks for nothing, bitch.” 
You try to stay; you want to apologize to Vernon for your friends one more time, but Christen’s hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you forward hard. “Let’s go, Y/N. You can share a drink with Caitlin. She didn’t need a fucking large anyway.” 
The movie theater didn’t have many others besides your group. After a few stragglers made their way in finding a seat, you tried to settle into your own and focus on the screen. You weren’t the biggest fan of scary movies, but there wasn’t much to do on a Thursday and you had already spent too many days staring at the same stores at the mall. 
When the lights go off completely and the screen lights up, you find yourself trying to make yourself smaller in your seat to keep your leg away from Christen’s hand when he stretches his fingers and smirks over at you. “Chill, are you scared already? It’s just the previews, baby.” 
You wished that you had the guts to tell him to stop calling you baby and that you weren’t scared. You just wished that he’d keep his fingers away from the end of your shorts. Shaking your head, you offer him a strained smile as you lean towards Caitlin, taking a few M&Ms she offers you before eating one of them. “Not scared, just a little cold.” 
“You want my jacket?” 
God, you couldn’t win, but maybe that would keep his hands off your skin. Nodding, you watch Christen stand up despite the groans from those behind you. Taking the jacket, you lay it over your legs and smile a bit wider at him. “Thanks, Christen.” 
Now Caitlin was regretting sharing anything with you. Tilting the box of candy away from you as she watches you tuck the jacket around your legs, Caitlin scoffs and takes a long sip of her drink. 
By the end of the movie, you find that you don’t have that much to be worried about. It wasn’t as much of a scary movie as you thought it would have been. The acting wasn’t great and the story had been predictable. You seemed to be the only one who seemed to think that way as the rest of your friends loudly discussed how good it was as you all moved through the theater lobby. 
Taking up the rear, you hold Christen’s jacket in your arms, waiting for the right moment to give it back to him until you see Vernon sweeping some popcorn off the floor near the concession stand. Maybe you could get in that apology now. Watching your friends for a moment longer, you let them keep going as you hang back and head in Vernon’s direction. 
“Hey… Vernon?” 
Furrowing his brows, Vernon lifts his head, sighing when he sees you standing in front of him. He hadn’t expected that, especially seeing you alone. Glancing around for your entourage, he’s surprised to see them closer to the front doors instead of right on your heels. “Yeah, what’s up? How was the movie?” 
Opening your mouth, you close it quickly, not sure how to answer him at first, but you shift on your feet and smile at him. “It was—it was okay. I mean, I think everyone could guess what they did last summer by how guilty they were acting.” Shaking your head, you sigh and glance down at your hands, gripping the jacket tighter in your hands. You weren’t sure why Vernon made you so nervous, his gaze making your cheeks heat up with how his smirk pulled up at the corner of his lips. 
“Yeah, not my favorite either, honestly.” Lowering his eyes to the jacket in your hands, Vernon takes a breath and shakes his head. He wasn’t an idiot; he had seen that jacket on Prince Charming—Christen, before the movie. “Did you need something, Y/N?” 
You weren’t sure that Vernon even knew your name so hearing him say it startles you, but of course he did. You had graduated together and probably had several classes together. It was silly of you to think he didn’t know your name; even Christen had said it before the movie. Maybe it was more that Vernon was saying it. Why did it matter? 
“Oh, no. Sorry, I know you are busy. I just—my friends, I’m so sorry. They aren’t always shitty.” Even you knew that was a lie, but that was what you did. You made excuses for them. You could see that Vernon knew it was a lie too, as he smiles and nods along with your words. 
“Sure, it’s whatever. Didn’t bother me—” 
“Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” Christen’s voice startles you with how close it is. Vernon watches how your body jerks in surprise and he furrows his brows, feeling a pang of anger taking over him at how someone could scare you so easily. 
“I—I was coming. I just—” You weren’t sure what to say to Christen, especially when you meet his eyes and see him glare at Vernon. You had made it worse. Turning towards your friend, you sigh and laugh but even you can tell it’s fake. “Let’s go. We were going to get froyo, right?” 
“What the fuck were you saying to her, freak?” Christen was fuming that you were talking to Vernon, but what pissed him off even more was that Vernon had been smiling at you. You had gone over to him by yourself and it looked like some loser was flirting with you. That wouldn’t happen, not while he was breathing. 
Pushing at Christen’s chest, you whine his name before glancing over at Vernon apologetically as he shakes his head and leans on his broom. How wasn’t he afraid of Christen? You were friends with Christen and you were afraid of him at times. 
The damage was done; the rest of your friends had made their way back over the concession stand, where the tension was growing thicker. Caitlin looked equal parts disgusted and amused as she watched Christen yell at Vernon. Jae stood behind her, confused look on his face as if he didn’t know if he wanted to be there or if he had to be there, and Alanna and Juwon were already laughing. That’s what they always did. They wanted to see a fight; that would be better than the movie to them. Meanwhile, you were horrified at the idea. 
“Please, can we just go?” Your voice is strained as you push at Christen, unable to get him to budge. 
His hand moves to grip your forearm, causing you to hiss in pain as he pulls you from in front of him and towards Caitlin, who wraps her arm around your waist, holding you closer to her and Jae. “I’m not leaving until I wipe this stupid smile off this freak’s face. I don’t like how he looks at you, Y/N. He’s a perv.” 
Nodding along with his words, Caitlin hums against your hair as she keeps you close to her even as you groan in annoyance. “Totally, he was staring at her the entire time. Made me wanna hurl. Like, seriously, loser? You think you can look at my best friend and it’s okay?” 
Now you were her best friend and she was protective of you? Only when she could make someone else miserable or make you miserable while doing it. Pulling from Cailtin, you tug on Christen’s shirt and beg for him to leave with you. “Please, can we go? You promised to buy me a snack and to get me home early.” Avoiding Vernon’s eyes as he grips his broom a bit tighter, his jaw clenched, you tug harder on Christen’s shirt. 
Smirking at Vernon, Christen takes a step back, putting up his hands as if he’s being the bigger man. He moves towards you and Cailtin so he can wrap his arm around you and this time you let him. Vernon can see the discomfort in your eyes, his brows furrowing slightly, but what you are doing seems to work as Christen takes his jacket from you and sighs happily as if he’s won the girl, leading you out of the theater. 
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“You owe Vernon a night off.” 
Wen Junhui looked bored as he watched Lee Chan leaning far too close to the television in front of him as he gripped the Sega controller in his hands. Vernon just sighs and shakes his head, dismissing his friend’s comment. He knew what Jun was getting at, but he wasn’t worried about it. 
“I can work next week if you want me too.” Chan, or as he preferred to be called, Dino winces as his pixelated character is killed, taking him back to the beginning of the level. “What day were you thinking? I have an English paper due like Wednesday, so... if it could be after that—” 
“It’s fine, dude. You don’t have to worry about it.” 
“The fuck he doesn’t. Why didn’t you tell me those assholes were giving you so much shit, huh?” Jun knew that Vernon didn’t want to talk about what had happened at work, but he was getting tired of seeing his friend let people walk all over him because he was too nice. “Every single one of them is sketchy and I’m tempted to ask Seungcheol to get them banned.” 
Now Dino was paying attention, the controller was back on the table and the game paused, letting the menu music play on repeat as he listened to his friends. Jun was pissed and Vernon looked as calm as always until Jun implicated everyone. That caused him to sit up and shake his head as he reached for one of the cheap beers the three had been sharing over the past week. 
“Not all of them are assholes, alright? And I have it handled. I’m not fucking worried about Christen, his big ass ego or his little followers.” 
Vernon had said it himself, Christen’s little followers. To Jun, that was all of them, and Vernon wasn’t changing his mind any time soon. “Yeah, whatever. Next time they come in and pull something, come get me from the box. Don’t just let them push you around. I don’t care if you think that one chick is hot or not. She’s still his bitc—” 
“Hey!” There were very few times that Vernon raised his voice at either of his friends, so when he did it made the air in the room shift. “Just… Shut your damn mouth about her. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. Y/N… She was trying to apologize for the rest of them and then Christen—you know what? It doesn’t matter. Here.” 
Pushing the can towards Dino, Vernon stands when the youngest of their group takes the beer and puts it on the table, watching him pull on his leather jacket. Jun shakes his head and lets out a long sigh when Vernon picks up the keys to his car and searches for his beanie. 
“I didn’t mean to piss you off. I didn’t—look alright? Vernon, I didn’t know all of that. Ya, know, what Y/N did? I’m sorry I started to call her his bitch. I’m just… I’m done with them messing with you.” 
Pulling his black beanie over his hair, Vernon shrugs and shoves his keys into his jacket. “It’s fine. I’m not pissed; I’m just tired. I’m gonna get home; I’ll see y’all later.” 
Watching Vernon walk out of the room, Jun rubs the back of his neck, feeling a bit of regret wash over him. He knew he had pushed a bit too hard but Vernon had been acting off for months. He had known him since they were freshmen and neither of them had ever fit in, but they found their own way together. It was just lately Vernon was different; Jun felt like he didn’t know the person he called his best friend. 
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Gripping the wheel of his 1989 Chevy Beretta, Vernon sighs as he leans his head back against the headrest hard. It was starting to get late, but he couldn’t seem to get himself to go home. Instead he kept turning on to familiar roads, his eyes scanning the houses. 
Vernon knew where he was. This was your street. The house on the right was yours, and the window with the light on, second floor… that was your room. Slowing down to a crawl, Vernon swallows hard as he leans to look at the curtains covering your window. He wished they weren’t there, as bad as that was. Sometimes he wished he could just get one glimpse of you instead of a shadow of you crossing in front of them, but he would take what he could get. 
Sighing loudly, Vernon pushes his foot down on the gas and takes a right, leaving your house behind. Tapping his thumb on his steering wheel, a smirk pulls at his lips as he eases by Caitlin’s house. He supposed this was why the two of you became friends. It was more a friendship of convenience living a street over from your best friend. Christen, however, didn’t live on the street. 
In fact, Vernon knew that Christen lived at least a fifteen-minute drive away in a gated community. So why was his car parked outside of Caitlin’s house? Wasn’t this the same guy who was threatening Vernon for daring to look at you and acting like you were his property? 
Narrowing his eyes at the only window with a light still on, Vernon lifts his brow when he sees Christen pull Caitlin back against him. He was seeing a lot more of her than he ever wanted to. It wasn’t like Vernon was shocked to find out that Christen was sleeping with Caitlin. That made more sense than Caitlin dating Jae, but it didn’t seem like they were even trying to hide it. Not from Jae and not from you. Did either one of you know? Now he was curious. 
Ten minutes later, Vernon puts his car in park and purses his lips as he looks around the street. There weren’t many cars for this to be an uppity part of town. Turning his attention towards the house he had stopped in front of, he starts to think that no one is at home until he sees a light on the third floor. It seemed that the person he wanted to see might just be home after all. 
Shoving his keys into his pocket, Vernon sniffs hard, the colder night air biting at his nose as he makes his way to the front door of the nice house. Pressing the doorbell, he waits for a few moments until the door opens and Jae gives him a confused look, tilting his head. 
“Uh, hey?” Jae was surprised to see Vernon at his front door. That had been the very last person he expected to see, especially this late at night. He knew Vernon better than anyone else in his circle of friends, but he would never admit it to any of them. Before he had been brought into the inner circle, he had been in a similar situation to Vernon’s; the major difference had been that his family had money and he could—and did—use it to climb the ranks. “‘Sup?” 
Nodding his head in Jae’s direction, Vernon glances behind him, scanning for anyone in the house, but it all seems quiet. It appeared that Jae was the only one at home. That was good. It was better for what Vernon needed to tell him. “Hey, can I come in? I, uh…” Rubbing at the back of his neck, he tries to smile a bit, but it seems as forced as it is. “Just wanna talk to you about something.” 
Was this about what had happened at the theater? Jae’s stomach was in his throat. He didn’t really want to deal with this, but he did feel a little shitty about how that had all gone down. He could have reigned Caitlin in a bit more, but... even he knew he was lying to himself. “Uh, sure. Yeah, come in. My parents are out of town so I’m not really supposed to have people over but—” Sighing to himself at how stupid he sounds, Jae shakes his head and gestures at the stairs for Vernon to go up. “Whatever, we can talk in my room. I’m on the third floor; my doors open.” 
Lifting his brows, Vernon smirks a bit as he lowers his head and moves through the door towards the staircase. Jae sounded like a kid who was breaking his parent’s rules, not like a recent graduate who was going to some Ivy League school in the fall. Vernon knew he shouldn’t find that as amusing as he did, but it was fitting with how Jae treated everything else in his life—including his girlfriend. 
“Cool, nice fucking place, man.” Jogging up the stairs, Vernon barely gives the house a second glance as he makes his way to the third floor and turns towards the open door. The room was decorated just as he thought it might be and yet it was still shocking. 
The bed was made perfectly, books lined pristine shelves, and there were pictures of Caitlin everywhere. What was even more interesting was that there were only two pictures in the entire room that included Jae and Caitlin. This wasn’t a room; it was a shrine to Jae’s cheating, whore girlfriend. 
Watching Vernon look around his room, Jae finds himself feeling a bit embarrassed and overwhelmed at having another person in his space. He wasn’t even used to having Caitlin in his room often. She didn’t come over much and when she did, it was more of a rare treat for Jae. 
"I—uh, what did you need to talk to me about? Is this—look if this is about what was said at the theater—”
“Nah, man. It’s fine.” Shaking his head, Vernon keeps moving around the room, picking up a picture of Jae standing behind Caitlin as she smiles brightly. What he notices the most about the picture is how they aren’t touching, not even his hand on her arm. “She’s a handful, huh?” 
Tilting his head slightly before straightening it, Jae looks at the picture in Vernon’s hand before crossing his arms. Where was this going? He was feeling more and more uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by, and he was wondering if he should regret letting Vernon in his house. 
“I—she’s, sure. Sometimes. What’s this about? You said you wanted to talk about something.” 
Putting the picture down, Vernon makes sure it is in the same place as it was before he rests back against the desk, his hands next to him on either side. “Yeah. You know, it’s funny. I drove past Cailin's. I was just driving around... You know how it is.” Tilting his head, Vernon meets Jae’s eyes as he sighs. “Anyway, it was funny ‘cause Christen’s car was at her house. I thought that was weird until I happened to see them in her bedroom window.” 
Jae scoffs, starting to feel not only embarrassed but defensive of his girlfriend’s honor. What was Vernon doing looking in her bedroom window in the first place? Taking a step forward, he drops his hands, making them into fists at his sides. “Hey—” 
“Not like she has up curtains. I wasn’t tryin’ to see your girl like that, scouts honor, but needless to say…” Moving his hands from the desk, Vernon puts them at his chest, cupping them like he would a girl’s breasts to make sure Jae understands, seeing the boy’s face flush. “Christen is banging your chick, dude. Just thought you’d wanna know.” 
Taking a step forward, Jae stops and pushes his lips together, trying to think of what to say. It wasn’t like he didn’t know, but it was more the fact that Vernon was at his house and telling him about it. “Shut the hell up, you freak. First you spy on my girlfriend and then—then you come here to what? Try to—I don’t know what you want!” 
“I don’t want anything, Jae. I was trying to help your stupid ass out.” Vernon’s voice is angry, a layer of malice the moment that Jae has the audacity to call him a freak. Everyone else had, but not Jae. The more that Vernon looked at him, the less he felt bad for him. Maybe he never had, how could you? He was pathetic. His room was a fucking shrine to a girl who probably only let him fuck her with his fingers so she could sit on another guy's cock. God… It was sickening, and yet he was the freak. 
“I don’t need your fucking help! I want you out of my house.” As if realizing something—a metaphorical lightbulb coming on above his head—Jae moves towards Vernon, who shifts away from him, causing the two to move to opposite sides of the room. Jae stares at Vernon in front of the open bedroom door as he feels the breeze from the open window behind him as he glares at the other man with disdain. “How the hell do you know where I live anyway? You fuckin’ stalking all of us, freak?” 
Vernon was seeing red; his jaw clenched tightly, he rolled his neck as a smirk pulled at his lips. His eyes move from Jae to the window behind him and all he can imagine is watching Jae fall out of it. How easy it would be to push him through the window and then the motherfucker wouldn’t call him a freak again. Taking a step forward, Vernon scoffs before speaking, his words quiet. “About that...” 
His hands meet Jae’s chest hard, a surprised gasp slipping from the smaller boy’s lips as he tries to push back only to feel the desk beside him bite into his hip. The picture of him and Caitlin falls with a crash, glass shattering on to the floor, drawing Jae’s attention away from Vernon just enough long enough for Vernon to push him again, this time even harder. 
Vernon listens to the strangled scream that leaves Jae’s mouth as the screen tears from the weight of his body before he falls through the window and three stories down. The deafening dull thud of his body hitting the pavement sends a shiver through his body even before Vernon leans out of the broken window frame to look down and see the blood pooling around Jae’s lifeless body. 
In that moment, he knows he should feel bad. He should be scared. He should feel something other than a rush of adrenaline, but Vernon doesn’t. Looking around Jae’s room once more, Vernon moves back down the steps and out the front door, not giving the body another look. Getting behind the wheel of his car, he sighs to himself as he drives away, finally feeling like he can go home.
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You wake up to the sound of the phone ringing from your desk. It sounds like a nightmare because surely no one is calling you this early. Even through your curtains, you can tell the sun has barely started to rise. 
Groaning, you sit up with a groan as the phone rings again. Whoever was trying to reach you wasn’t giving up. Sliding out of bed, you sink down into your desk chair and pull the phone from the base, putting it to your ear with a sharp, “Hello?” If that didn’t make whoever was calling you regret it, you didn’t know what else would.
“Y/N!” 
Caitlin’s sobbing voice makes your heart drop into your stomach immediately and you feel horrible for picking up the phone angry. Shifting in the chair, you switch which shoulder you rest the phone on, your fingers twisting into the already ruined phone cord as you anxiously furrow your brows, almost afraid to speak. “Wha—” 
“He’s dead, Y/N! What the fuck? Like, seriously?” Sniffing hard, Caitlin rubs hard at her nose as she lays in her bed, her own phone tucked between her ear and shoulder. “The police said it could be an accident or he might have...” 
You could hear the way her lips were quivering as Caitlin tried to speak, but you still weren’t sure who she was talking about. “Who, Caitlin?” 
“Oh, my god! Jae! Jae’s dead!” Caitlin’s voice is shrill, causing you to pull the receiver away from your ear slightly as you swallow hard the reality of her words hitting you. “Why are you making me say it out loud? It’s already so hella depressing. I’m like a widow; it’s gross.” 
Glancing towards your bedroom door, you try not to feel anything negative about your best friend while she’s grieving, but she was going about it in a strange way. You knew that she didn’t care about Jae, not in any way that she could claim widow-like status. She treated him like shit most of the time, but you weren’t going to say that to her now. You weren’t that type of person. You were the person who coddled. “I’m so sorry, Caitlin. Do you want me to come over?” 
Whining, she nods before pouting into her words, hoping to make you feel even worse for her. “Yeah, could you? That would totally help me feel less shitty.” Before you can even reply, a single breath of a word starts to leave your mouth. Caitlin speaks over you. “Oh, and Y/N? Could you bring me Taco Bell?” 
You lean your head back; the urge to roll your eyes is so strong but you keep it at bay as you nod to yourself. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be there in like an hour.” 
Hanging the phone up, you close your eyes, your brows knitting together tightly once you can hear yourself think. Jae was dead? How? Caitlin had mentioned an accident, but you didn’t have any other details. You knew he didn’t like to drive, maybe something with one of his parents cars... Not wanting to picture anymore gruesome things, you force yourself to stand and move to your closet to get dressed. 
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Vernon tilts his head as he watches you cross your arms, your keys dangling from your fingers as you wait in line in front of him. You looked beautiful. It was rare that he saw you out like this on a normal day, but lucky for him, he had been craving some food, and tacos seemed like a good choice. 
Taking a step towards you, Vernon takes in a deep breath and just enjoys the overwhelming scent of your perfume and body wash. He wished he had more courage to speak to you, to let you know how much he was into you, but you were the sun and he was like a dark cloud. Least that’s how it felt... 
“Hey, uh…” 
Vernon sighs as he listens to you place your order, your voice like the sweetest song on the radio. He'd play your voice on repeat if he could. Getting lost in listening to you, Vernon doesn’t realize you are done with your order until the boy at the register lifts his brows and hands in question. “You wanna order something, dude?” 
“Uh… yeah.” 
You knew that voice. Turning towards the source of it as you reach to take the cups in front of you, you can’t help the small smile that lifts at your lips as you see Vernon. You hadn’t realized he was behind you. It kind of made you sad that he was and hadn’t said anything, but it made sense after what had happened at the theater. You couldn’t blame him for being upset with you. 
Meeting Vernon’s eyes, your smile brightens slightly before you look away and move out of his way so he can get a cup as you move to the drink machine to fill your drinks. You can feel Vernon’s eyes on you even as you move, your fingers pressing down the buttons. The heat of his eyes makes you feel shy and warm as you listen to him move closer to you until he finally stands next to you, filling his own cup with soda. 
“Weird seeing you alone.” 
Vernon watches your cheeks push up towards your eyes before you glance towards him when he does speak to you. You shrug and take a step backwards towards the lids and straws, taking two of each and letting Vernon move towards you to do the same. 
“I do things alone sometimes. It’s weird to see you somewhere besides the movie theater. I almost started to think you lived there.” Keeping your eyes on Vernon, you bite subtly at your bottom lip as you move towards the counter to pick up your bag of food just as they put Vernon’s next to yours. 
“Mm, that’s fair. I don’t do much besides that, but in my defense, you don’t really know me, so…” With his own food in his hand, Vernon grins at you and you feel your heart beat hard in your chest. You aren’t sure you have ever seen him smile like that and you aren’t sure anyone’s smile has ever effected you in that way before. 
Vernon watches you look away, one drink in the crook of your elbow as you hold the other so you can hold the bag of food in your other hand. Gesturing towards the door, he takes a breath, letting it out slowly as if he’s gaining courage before speaking to you again. “I can help; you seem like you have your hands full. You, uh… Lunch for your family or something?” 
He was sweet; this was the most you had probably ever really talked to Vernon and he was being a gentleman. It was nice not to have your friends hovering around you and being assholes to him. Letting him hold the door open for you while you maneuver through it, you glance back at him and shake your head, letting out a soft sigh. “No, I’m going over to Caitlin’s.” 
Vernon notices how your words seem to fade off at the end and how your smile dulls. Following you to your car wanting to help you, he furrows his brows as he offers to take the food from your hands as you unlock your car, seeming to struggle with your words. “She’s—it’s a hard day. You know Jae, right? One of my friends?” 
Of course he did, but Vernon keeps his cool and just shrugs his shoulders, letting you continue. “Uh, Caitlin’s boyfriend. The one who was following her around last time.” Getting a nod from Vernon, you lean in your car to put the drinks into the cup holders before taking your food from him. “I guess something happened last night—an accident. He passed away. She’s super upset. So I’m gonna go spend the day with her.” 
You were a good friend, better than Caitlin deserved in Vernon’s opinion. He knew for a fact that Caitlin didn’t give a shit about Jae and the fact that he was dead. She was using this for attention, but you were giving into it because you were sweet and that was all you knew how to do. If he had his way, he’d take you away from it and give you attention. Shaking his head, Vernon furrows his brows, leaning against your car door, giving you a solemn look. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help you?” 
It wasn’t lost on you that Vernon asked if he could help you and not Caitlin, but it still made your heart feel warm. He was such a good guy, so kind and soft. He didn’t deserve the treatment that the rest of your friends gave him. Shaking your head, you pout softly before letting it shift into a gentle smile. “No, I’m okay... I—this was really nice, Vernon. I like talking to you. Um…” 
Leaning into your car once again, you put the food down and reach into your purse as Vernon watches you carefully with a raised brow. He agreed, it was nice to talk to you. He was trying to be respectful, but you made it a bit difficult. Your shirt was riding up your back and you were so fucking pretty. He couldn’t help the way his eyes were moving along your skin as you searched for—
”Ah! I was looking for a pen. Can I give you my number? Maybe you could call me sometime.” 
You wanted him to call you? Vernon’s head was spinning. He must be in another dimension where he wasn’t a loser because you were looking at him expectantly as you held your cute purple pen. Nodding, Vernon smiles to one side, watching your smile grow in return as you reach for his hand, pulling it towards your stomach and turning his palm over. The pen tickles Vernon’s hand, but he can’t stop staring at your fingers and the way the pen glides over his skin as you put the numbers on his palm. 
“It’s my own line, so like, my family won’t pick it up. As long as I’m not using my computer, you can reach me there, okay?” Tilting your head, you trail your fingers from Vernon’s as his lips part with a soft breath. He was so handsome it was almost devastating to you. How had you never noticed him in school? You knew the answer to that, but you wished things had been different in that moment. 
“Yeah, I—sure. I’ll call you.” At least that’s what he was telling himself. Would he have the courage to actually do it? Vernon wasn’t sure in that moment, but he knew he wanted to. 
“Cool. Thanks for helping me get to my car, Vernon. I’ll talk to you later.” 
Standing there like an idiot for a moment longer, Vernon nods before taking a step back from your car as you slide behind the wheel, waving at him before backing out. Glancing down at his palm once more, he closes his fingers around your number and smiles to himself before turning on his heels towards his car with a bit more pep in his step. 
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“I’m literally fucking starving. What took so long?” Taking the bags from your hand, Catiltin pouts at you as she sits with her legs crisscrossed in the center of her full-size bed.
You could tell she had been crying. Her eyes were a bit swollen, with slight circles under her eyes, but there was still something about the situation that made you fully aware that Caitlin wasn’t mourning Jae as much as she was her reputation. 
“I’m sorry, I got here as soon as I could. You know things are busier on Saturday.” Sliding on to the bed next to her, you furrow your brows before leaning in to hug Caitlin, feeling her shoulder’s drop. You were a good friend. Despite feeling and knowing what you did, you were still concerned about her. You hated that this had happened, and the truth of the matter was that you were sad. Jae was your friend. 
“Has—well… Did anyone say what happened?” 
Your voice is quiet and the question causes a new wave of tears to spill from Caitlin’s eyes as she chokes on her words, only managing to get out a couple before she’s cut off. 
“Splattered on the sidewalk under his window.” 
Horrified, you look over your shoulder towards the doorway where Christen leans against the frame. You didn’t even know he was there. Had he gotten to Caitlin’s before you? Just now? It didn’t matter, you supposed; you assumed everyone would end up here eventually. 
Your eyes follow Christen as he moves to the bed, taking the bag of tacos to take one for himself. You hadn’t bought them for him, but that had never mattered in the past and it doesn’t matter now. 
“You’re always so sweet, baby. Thinking ahead and getting lunch like this.” The bed dips at your side as Christen joins you both and Catiltin sniffles hard, getting the attention back on her as she opens her own food. 
“Could we like... I don’t know, not say splattered? It’s so gross, Christen.” 
Shrugging, the boy swallows a bite of food before sighing into his words. “Sorry, that’s what happens when you launch yourself out of a fuckin’ third-story window, babe.” 
Babe? Furrowing your brows, you let your eyes move from Caitlin to Christen as your best friend blanches slightly and puts her taco on the wrapper to the side. 
“He—that’s not what he did. The cops said it was an accident. He just fell somehow. Some freak accident—” 
“I’m sure it was an accident. Jae would never… you know.” Your voice is softer than Caitlin’s and Christen’s combined, but it manages to draw both of their attention to you. You couldn’t say what Christen thought happened; you couldn’t get that word out. Not just because it was too hard to even think, but also because it just didn’t make sense. Jae wasn’t depressed. He had a charmed life. 
“Sure, baby… But listen, you know Jake, the tight end?” Sighing softly, you tilt your head at Christen’s question. While you knew who he was talking about, you didn’t think it was important to label him as his position from the high school football team, but what was the point in arguing—so instead you just nodded. “Well, he’s lives across the street from Jae. Said the cops were out there all morning and he overheard one of them talking about some things that just didn’t add up with an accident—” 
“Christen! Do you, like, hate me? I’m a fucking widow now and you want people to think that my boyfriend killed—” Lowering her voice, Caitilin whines when Christen furrows his brows at her, only for them to soften when he sees the hurt in her eyes. “Just—this is scary, okay? What—did Jake say why they said that?” 
As much as you hated to admit it even to yourself, you were also curious as to what Jake had overheard. Shifting on the bed, you turn a bit more towards Christen, who straightens his back and lets a bit of a smirk pull at his lips, having so much attention focused on him. 
“Yeah, so just what he heard, okay? But he said Jae’s nails were fucked up and that there were scratches on his desk. Like, maybe he regretted it just before he—” Seeing the look on your face, Christen presses his lips together and tilts his head, changing his words. “Like he tried to stop himself from falling out the window. Oh, and uh...” Furrowing your brows, you see a nervous look spread across Christen’s face as he meets Caitlin’s eyes. “There was a broken picture or frame. Could’a been thrown on the floor.” 
“What picture?” Moving to sit on her feet, Caitlin’s eyes widen slightly, causing you to sit back a bit confused as she waits for Christen to explain. 
“I—he wasn’t sure. All the really said it was of a couple, but seeing as it was Jae’s room…” 
Even you didn’t need anymore explanation. You had never been in Jae’s room, but who else would be in the picture? Why would a picture of Jae and Caitlin be smashed? Your eyes move between your two friends as Caitlin falls back against the bed with a new wave of grief, as if she’s realized something. Christen, on the other hand, just sighs and reaches for your drink, taking a sip before meeting your eyes. 
“You look freaked, Y/N.” 
That was an understatement. Shaking your head, you rub your hands over your arms before scooting closer to Caitlin to rest your hand on her thigh, letting her know you were still close to her as she cries. “I’m just—this is really sad. It doesn’t make sense, and he was so excited about starting university. I feel really bad for his parents.” 
Nodding along with your words, Christen leans to put your drink on the nightstand before leaning back on the bed, letting his hand rest near your leg. “It fuckin’ sucks. I mean… It’s fucked up. Like the weak ones, man. Why do they gotta die before they get the chance to make something of themselves?” 
You stare at Christen as he speaks; his words are almost said as if he’s quoting something poetic or profound, though to you it’s heartless and ridiculous. 
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Leaning against the end of his bed, Vernon runs his fingers over the fading numbers written on his palm. Hours had passed, the sun had gone down, and now the only thing left to remind him that he had actually seen you today was slowly dissolving into his skin. 
Jun and Dino were occupying the beanbag chairs in front of the TV as some movie played, something that Vernon had seen a hundred times. He knew he should be paying more attention to his friends, but instead he was trying to commit your phone number to memory. 
“During the matinee today.” 
“For real? Cops? What did they say?” 
Vernon’s brows lift, realizing he hadn’t been even listening to the conversation until cops were mentioned. Shifting on the floor, he sighs and lifts his eyes to watch Dino pass the bowl of popcorn over to Jun as he shrugs. 
“Were asking questions about that guy you all graduated with? I don’t remember his last name, uh—Jae, that’s his first name. He said he had a movie ticket in his pocket or something. Not sure why it mattered. They just—” 
“They what?” 
Vernon had been so quiet over the past hour that both of the boys had almost forgotten whose room they were in and that he was even there until he spoke up. Glancing back at him, Dino shakes his head and shifts in the chair, almost uncomfortable under Vernon’s gaze. Vernon could be intense sometimes; Jun might not notice it, but Dino always did. 
“Nothin’ really. Asked if he seemed like himself when he came by. I told them I didn’t know him that well and that I had been off that night. They said they would probably stop by and talk to you tomorrow. Is—why? That not okay?” 
Moving to his feet, Vernon shakes his head and shrugs. He didn’t like the idea of talking to the cops, but it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. “It’s whatever. I didn’t know him either.” 
“That’s not true.” Shooting a look back at Jun as he speaks, Vernon scoffs even as Jun lifts his hands and sighs into his words. “I mean—not like you were friends with him, but you knew him a bit.” 
“Whatever, I didn’t hang out with him. I had a class or two with him and he came into the theater. Didn’t make me his best friend, Jun. Why the fuck does it matter anyway?” 
Jun furrows his brows and shakes his head. He watches Vernon reach for a pen, looking at his hand as he transfers something from it to a piece of paper, then tossing it on the desk. “I–well… It doesn’t, but you might have noticed if he was acting out of his head maybe. People are saying he fell out of his window, or—you know. Maybe he wanted to fall out of it.” 
Scoffing, Vernon turns to lean against his desk, an uncaring look on his face. “I mean, wouldn’t you if your chick was a lying whore? Not sure he ever acted like he knew what he was doing from the moment he started dating that girl. It was like putting one foot on a banana peel and his neck in a noos—” 
“Jesus Christ, Vernon.” Shivering, Jun cuts Vernon’s words off before he’s able to finish. He had heard Vernon be callous before. He had seen him uncaring and perhaps act like a dick, but never like this. “It was an accident. It’s tragic…” 
Nodding slowly, Vernon sighs as he tries to remember what he’s supposed to feel in a moment like this. He can see the look on Jun’s face—something akin to sadness. Dino, on the other hand, looked a little sick, horrified as he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to be smaller. 
“Yeah, it’s sad; you’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s up with me. I’m just tired or something.” Shaking his head, Vernon moves back towards his friends, lowering himself back to the floor and offering them a smile that seems to soothe them both. “I saw Y/N earlier today; she seemed to be kinda tore up about it too. She was going over to—uh, Cailtin’s. She’s a good friend.” Gritting his teeth slightly, Vernon forces himself to say her name instead of anything else out of respect for you. In his head, Caitilin didn’t deserve anything but what she was going through. 
Tilting his head slightly, Jun watches Vernon talk about you. There was a stark difference in how he mentioned you compared to anyone else. While he knew that Vernon had a crush on you, if he was talking to you, maybe he was wanting more. More could be dangerous. 
“You saw her? Where? Was she alone?” 
Vernon knew why there was a barrage of questions, but it only served to annoy him. Leaning his head back, he sighs and nods along with each one. “Yes. Taco Bell. She was alone. Why the fuck does it matter?” 
“Because, Vernon. She's—look, I get it. She’s cute as fuck. She’s nice, but he’s got his claws in her. He’ll kill you if you try anything. Some ass isn’t worth it. I don’t care if the ass is prime—” 
Glaring at Jun, Vernon bites at his cheek until he snaps. “Why do you talk about her like that? Do you even know her? Have you spoken a single word to her?” Shaking his head, Vernon rubs hard at the numbers on his palm now. “Of course you haven’t because you are too fuckin’ judgmental and too chicken shit. Just think that because she’s standing next to Christen, she’s just like him. Well, newsfuckin’ flash, Junhui, you aren’t the genius you make yourself out to be.” 
Dino had been quiet—he always was, but he hated the tension and arguing between his friends. No one was worth putting a wedge between his best friends, especially some girl. “Hey! Stop it. Why are you two always doing this now? Every fucking week!” Staring up at Dino, Vernon swallows hard as the youngest stands up and points from Jun to him. “If he likes his girl, so what? Lay off! And you…” 
Swallowing hard, Dino falters for a moment as he meets Vernon’s eyes. It takes a deep breath to calm down before he can round his shoulders and speak up to Vernon. “Jun is your best friend and you’ve never been such an asshole before. If you need to get your dick wet, do it. If you need to get high or drunk, please... Just do it before you say something you can’t take back.” 
Vernon stared at his television for a long time after his friends had left, thinking about what Dino had said. To be a year younger than him, the boy was wise beyond his years and he had a point. He knew that he was wound up and he had been taking it out on Jun in particular for weeks. 
There had been some relief when Vernon had left Jae’s, but then he would be reminded about Christen and his bullshit and be right back where he had started. The anger was building until he felt like he might just snap. 
Glancing towards his desk, Vernon lifts his brow, seeing the piece of paper with your phone number written on it. It wasn’t incredibly late, but it was the weekend. There was a good chance you were still at Cailtin’s or worse... You could be out with the rest of them doing something, trying to take your minds off of Jae—but Vernon still wanted to try. 
Pulling the phone from the desk along with the piece of paper, Vernon sighs as he leans back against the side of his bed. He rests the receiver between his shoulder and ear before carefully dialing your number and waiting. You had said it was your own line, and somehow that didn’t stop Vernon from letting Jun’s words get the better of him for just a single moment. What if you gave him a fake number? What if Christen picked up? But neither of those things happened. 
“Hello?” 
Your voice is beautiful, a bit sad, and confused. Vernon has to take a deep breath to stop himself from hanging up the phone when you furrow your brows and listen to the sound of breathing on the other line. Clearly someone was there; it wouldn’t be the first time you had gotten a crank call, but today really wasn’t the day for it. 
“Hello? Look, seriously… I’m not in the mood—” 
“Y/N… Sorry, it’s me, Vernon.” Wincing to his own voice, Vernon pulls on the phone cord in his lap and weighs his regret as he listens to you take a deep breath in response. You had hoped that Vernon would call you, but you hadn’t expected it. He seemed so different from you and the rest of your friends that he was almost like a life preserver at the moment. 
“I—oh… Hey. I—I’m glad you called. I’m a little surprised.” Closing your eyes for a moment, you lean your head back, trying to think of how to salvage your conversation, thinking you might have ruined it before it started. “I promise I don’t always sound like a bitch when I answer the phone.” 
Vernon’s laugh brings a much-needed smile to your face and warmth to your chest. Shaking his head, he tries to picture you in a room he’s never seen besides a light behind a curtain. “You didn’t sound like a bitch. I—I didn’t exactly start speaking so I get why you said what you did. I’m not really like, you know, a great conversationalist.” 
And yet he had called you anyway. That wasn’t lost on you as you stood up from your desk and worked the cord for your phone around it so you could sit on your bed. Vernon listens to the sounds of you moving in your room and it brings a slight smile to his face. “How are you, by the way? You said you were going over to your friend’s house.” 
He remembered. Leaning your head back against your headboard, you bite your bottom lip and nod. “Yeah, I spent most of the day at Cailtin’s. It was honestly exhausting.” Sighing, you close your eyes, realizing how bad your words sound, causing you to shake your head. “But—I… You know, I’ll do it anytime. She’s going through a ton right now. I’m—” 
“Y/N… I didn’t ask about her. Sorry, that sounds really shitty, but I’d rather talk about you.” Vernon didn’t want to cut you off, but he couldn’t stand that you were spiraling because you felt bad for Caitlin. In his opinion, she didn’t deserve anything, much less you in her life. You were far too good for her, not that he could just say that out loud to you now. “Don’t get me wrong; it’s really nice of you to do what you did. Is it cool if we just talk about you?” 
That was almost a terrifying prospect—someone wanting to focus on just you. Christen did it in his own way, but it always led back to him. There was always an ulterior motive, and yet it didn’t seem like Vernon had one. Shifting on your bed, you rest the cradle to your phone next to you as you pull your knees towards your stomach. 
“Sorry, yeah… Yeah, we can do that, but only if we talk about you too. Is that okay?” 
You were apologizing again. That seemed to be something you did a lot and usually not for yourself. Shaking his head, Vernon smiles into a sigh before lifting his brows. “Yeah, that’s okay. I—I kinda wanna get to know you. God, that sounds so fuckin’ lame.” 
Warmth spreads along your cheeks at Vernon’s words and you are happy he’s just on the phone and not in front of you. Pressing your lips together, you swallow hard and bury a bit of a happy sound as you pull the phone from your ear briefly before calming yourself down and clearing your throat. “It’s not lame. Why would that be lame? I mean, I wanna get to know you too. I gave you my number for a reason... Like, obviously.” 
Listening to how your voice trails off with a bit of shyness to it, Vernon can’t help the grin that pulls at his lips. There was no way you were actually into him the way he was into you. You probably just wanted to be his friend, and if that was the case, he’d have to deal... But the tone of your voice—the cute little giggle to it—made his stomach tighten with intrigue. 
“Oh—oh, yeah?” Clearing his throat, Vernon lifts his hand to rub at his neck, feeling how hot it is under his touch. He knew if he were to look in the mirror, it would be red along with his ears. There would be no way he would have called you with Jun and Dino in the room; if he was this shy and embarrassed alone, he would have died in front of them. “Wha—what’s the reason?” 
Despite being new adults, fresh into the world, there was still a layer of that schoolgirl and boy whimsy layered in the conversation that made you kick your feet when Vernon stumbled over his questions. You had a feeling he knew the answers to his questions, but he was just wanting to hear them out loud. The real question was, would you be able to say it out loud? 
Whining Vernon’s name softly, you wrap your phone cord around your fingers and laugh under your breath, almost in disbelief. The sound of his smooth but shy laugh makes your stomach twist with that nervous new crush feeling and you feel almost like you could float off your bed. “I don’t know; it’s hard to say it out loud. You know what I mean... Don’t you?” 
Pulling his beanie from his hair, Vernon rakes his fingers through his hair and scoffs into a laugh as you dodge his question. You were being so cute and coy that it was driving him crazy. Sure, he had dated in high school. He had crushes, but none of them quite stood the test of time like this one. 
“Think I’d just rather hear it. This isn’t a conversation I’ve ever had before, Y/N.” Dropping the beanie on to the floor next to him, he bites at his lip and tilts his head, looking at the wall almost too intently as if it will give him the right words. “I—I mean, you know who I am. Let’s be honest, I’m not—I mean, fuck. I’m not Christen—” 
“Stop it. I don’t like Christen. I think—I mean, I thought that was obvious, at least to you. He—” Furrowing your brows as you speak over Vernon, cutting him off, you bite at your cheek, feeling the frustration rising in your chest. “He honestly makes me really...” 
Hearing how you seem unable to say the words, Vernon chews at his lips, feeling bad for bringing the other man up. It hadn’t been his intention to upset you, but he did feel inferior when it came to Christen in some ways, especially you. Now he wasn’t sure he should. Now Vernon could feel the same anger from before threatening to rise up as he taps his fingers against his leg and fills in the word for you. “Uncomfortable?” 
Nodding, you sniff back your emotions and sit up a bit on your bed, as if talking about Christen will make him manifest in front of you like a demon. “Yeah, so you not being him is a good thing.” Wanting to get the conversation off of Christen, you take a deep breath and shake your head as if clearing the fog from it before speaking again. “‘Sides, I do kinda know who you are; that’s why I—you know... It’s why I like you, Vernon.” 
Your words make Vernon feel like he’s stuck in a wind tunnel. He hears them, and yet they don’t seem real. “Me?” 
Laughing under your breath, you nod at his question as your brows knit together. There was no one else you were talking to and you had used his first name. “I—yeah. I mean, you know… If you don’t like me, that’s totally—” 
“Oh, my god... I do. I just—I’m a loser and I can’t even remember what else your friends called me.” 
“I don’t care what they think. I mean, I care what they say, and they are so fucking wrong.” You weren’t sure why it was so hard for Vernon to understand that you liked him, and while you were glad that he liked you back, it was difficult to hear him call himself a loser. That wasn’t how you saw him. You hated hearing your friends call anyone that, but especially Vernon. “I know I make a lot of excuses for them, but the things they said the other night... I really am so, so sorry. That was my fault.” 
Pushing his tongue against his cheek, Vernon lets out a breath as you once again apologize for your friends. It’s even worse when you take the blame for something that isn’t your responsibility. “Y/N, wh—no. I don’t blame you. Nothing that happened was your fault. Christen could have threw a punch at me and it still wouldn’t have been anything that you could have started or stopped.” 
The idea of Christen hurting Vernon makes your skin crawl. You knew that Christen was just waiting for the opportunity and what you were doing right now... Pursuing something with Vernon would only make it worse. Frowning a bit to yourself, you stretch the phone cord between your fingers and Vernon seems to notice how quiet you’ve become, your soft breath on the other side of the line being the only thing that lets him know you’re still there. 
“You thinkin’ hard about something? Wanna let me in on it?” Smiling a bit, Vernon shifts his legs, pulling his knees up a bit so he can rest his forearms on them as he leans his head back against his bed. “Or did you fall asleep?” 
“No—no, I’m here. I just—I know you said none of that was my fault, but it feels like it.” You can hear Vernon start to speak and you know he’s going to argue your point, but still having more to say, you keep going before he can. “It’s just—Christen, he’s like weirdly been obsessed with me for a while, right? He's just my friend, but it’s like I can’t get him to see that. It makes it hard to date, well, like anyone. I—” Laughing under your breath, it’s clear there is no humor to it as you roll your eyes. “Like I haven’t even had a boyfriend or been on a date since freshman year.” 
Letting your words sink in, Vernon tries to think about high school and when he first noticed you. It hadn’t been hard. You were beautiful from the first day, but he hadn’t been the only one who had noticed how much you changed over summer and that was when Christen had laid his claim. No wonder you hadn’t dated. Vernon could imagine that any guy that tried to get close to you was either scared away or knew you were off the table—even if you weren’t. 
“So… I’m just saying that because if this goes anywhere, and I’m not saying it has to... Christen might freak the fuck out. He already got mad that you were talking to me.” Your voice is sad and quiet. You sound repressed like you had at the theater, and it bites at Vernon, making him almost feel antsy in his room. He wants to get up and fix it for you; change your situation so that you don’t have to feel so small...
“I don’t give a fuck what he thinks, Y/N. I’m not afraid of him. All I care about is what you think and want.” Vernon presses his thumbnail into the tip of his pinky hard enough to leave a divot as he grits his teeth. He had to calm down; you weren’t his—not yet. Christen had already done enough damage by laying a freaky claim to you; Vernon was determined not to make you feel worse by doing the same. “I’ll only do what you want. Like I told you, I like you.” 
Unable to stop the smile from spreading on your lips, you bite at your lower lip and glance towards your window as the curtain moves with the wind. There was a huge difference in how Christen and Vernon made you feel. Christen terrified you and made you feel trapped in a box. Vernon, he made you feel almost free and desired. It was almost a bit dangerous the way you enjoyed that feeling, along with the smooth sound of his voice lulling you into a comfortable place. 
“Yeah?” Now your smile was even in your voice and Vernon could hear it over the phone. “I—yeah, I like you a lot. God, I sound like a teenager.” 
Smirking, Vernon looks down at his fingers and the red half moon on his pinky as he runs his tongue along his lips and tilts his head. “Well, I mean technically—” 
“Stop it, I’m not. We aren’t anymore. I let high school go, like forever.” Sliding down in your bed, you rest your head on the pillow, sighing into the phone, causing Vernon to have to close his eyes to the sound. “Another reason I like you so much. You don’t seem to dwell on it. High school is over, and we can start something new. Like this, right?” 
Fuck. Vernon has to pull the phone from his ear as his stomach tightens to the idea of you and the sigh you had made in his ear. You were so innocent to him and yet he wasn’t thinking completely with his brain at the moment. Nodding, he swallows hard and rubs his hand along his jeans to ground himself. “Hell, yeah.” 
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Partying wasn’t really Vernon’s scene. It wasn’t even the fact that he wasn’t in the “cool” crowd; it was more that his personality didn’t mesh with how loud a party could be. Not just the music or the talking, but the atmosphere. It was all so loud and made Vernon’s head feel like it was in a vice that someone was constantly tightening the longer he stayed—and yet a party is where he found himself tonight. 
Jun loved to party. He liked the release of not having to think. He enjoyed the free beer and access to almost anything he might want to get his hands on. Jun didn’t go crazy, but if someone passed a joint, he wasn’t going to be rude and refuse a gift. 
“Dude, try to enjoy this.” 
Vernon rolls his eyes at Jun as he lifts his cup to his lips, nursing a stale beer he had picked up at the beginning of the night. Sometimes he wished he could be more like his friend. He did find watching people at parties interesting, even Jun. You could really see who someone was when they were wasted. Inhibitions were low and people’s true nature came out to play. 
“I have about fifty other things I could be doing.” Vernon wasn’t lying. It was rare that he and Jun both had a night off from the theater and he didn’t particularly want to be spending it in the house of someone who probably treated him like shit in high school. You were on Vernon’s mind, and he had been letting his eyes wander around the crowd just hoping you might show up—though this didn’t seem much like your scene. 
“Such a fuckin’ buzzkill, man. You gotta relax. That’s why I wanted you to come out with me. You gotta get out of your head. You’re spinnin’ your wheels.” Jun tried to focus on Vernon, but unlike him—who had taken the night slow, Jun had not. He was feeling just how he wanted to be feeling: light, cares were a thing of the past or a problem for tomorrow, and there was still plenty of shit to play with floating around this party. 
Shaking his head, Vernon can’t help the scoff that slips from his lips, though between Jun’s current mental state and the boom of the bass echoing off the walls, it went unheard. “I’m gonna top off.” 
Nodding, Jun turns his attention away from Vernon and towards the pretty girl with a joint resting between her fingers. Vernon, on the other hand, kept his head on a swivel as he moved into the kitchen and straight towards the keg to refill his beer. There was a mishmash of people he had gone to school with; a couple of kids he knew were still in school, but the two that caught his eye were leaned up against the farest wall. 
Vernon wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed Juwon and Alanna until now, but then again they had probably found a room in this godforsaken house and defiled it. Bringing the cup to his lips, Vernon furrows his brows as he follows the direction of the couple's eyes as they laugh between themselves. Jun—they were watching Jun. 
Everyone at this party was wasted—well, almost everyone, and it made no sense to Vernon why old habits had to die hard. Something you had said to him the night before was replaying in his mind as Vernon took a step back into the living room, carefully maneuvering through people as Juwon and Alanna made their way closer to Jun. 
“They just all are mentally stuck in high school. The glory days, you know?”
Well, this wasn’t fucking high school anymore. There weren’t glory days for anyone. Vernon had never gotten any, and Jun sure as hell hadn’t, so why should a group of assholes get them? 
“Thanks, fuckface.” Taking the joint from Jun’s fingers, Juwon passes it to Alanna as the girl who had given it to Jun in the first place shifts uncomfortably. “You living off scraps like a dog? Who invited you anyway?” 
Juwon had always had an issue with Jun for seemingly no problem on the surface. He had gone out of his way to make his life a living hell in high school, and it seemed that wasn’t stopping just because they had donned a cap and gown a couple of months ago. The real issue was that Jun had almost dated Alanna first. Juwon had almost lost the “great love of his life” to someone else, and now that he had her, he had to remind Jun at every given chance. 
Alanna eyes the girl sitting next to Jun harshly. She had no reason to, but she honestly didn’t like her so close to Jun. As much as she loved being at Juwon’s side and making sure that Jun remembered her as she egged the bullying on—she also enjoyed seeing him available. You just never knew if the wind would change. 
“Cut the shit out, Juwo—” 
“Who the fuck do you think you are, Wen? Walking up in this place like you belong.” 
Vernon was seething as he watched just a few feet away along with a small crowd of others. He wanted to give Jun a chance to defend himself, but he had seen this song and dance. Jun wasn’t a violent person; he wasn’t a confrontational person—and tonight he had been drinking and smoking. Juwon had an unfair advantage. 
The moment that Juwon starts to lay his hands on Jun is when Vernon can no longer just watch. Taking a couple of steps forward, he pulls Juwon back, and the anger he is feeling is evident in his eyes. Stepping in front of Jun, Vernon’s nose almost touching Juwon's, he tilts his head as he speaks just loud enough for the man to head. “Touch him again and see what happens. Take your little bitch, and get out of my face.” 
Juwon looks shocked at first, his eyes widening almost comically until a laugh bubbles in his throat. “Yo–you kiddin’? The fuck?” Alanna quickly joins in, her higher-pitched laugh grating at Vernon’s ears as the couple hangs off one another. “You’re a fuckin’ psychopath, Vernon. Almost had me scared for a minute. Shit… Seriously, you could almost pull off being a badass if everyone didn’t know you were a pussy.”
Juwon laughs again as he takes the joint from Alanna, the end of it burning orange as he smirks before inhaling deeply and blowing smoke into Vernon’s face as he pushes him out of his way. Vernon forces himself to keep his eyes open even as they burn from the smoke. He wasn’t going to let Juwon get the better of him, not tonight. Not while his nails were digging into his palms hard enough to break the skin. 
“Goodnight, ladies…” With his arm wrapped around Alanna, the last of the joint resting back between her lips, Juwon grins at Jun as he shifts uncomfortably on the arm of the couch. He had succeeded in doing what he had set out to do. Jun and Vernon had always been the outcasts in high school and at any party they went to, but now they were being looked at like they were diseased. The pretty girl who had been sitting next to Jun was long gone, and anyone else who had been seen talking to Jun before had found better company. 
“Fuck this party.” Vernon sighs, hearing how defeated Jun sounds. His eyes follow his friend as he quickly stands and moves past him, only to get a few feet before Vernon watches him fall flat on his face with a loud groan. 
Searching for the source, Vernon’s anger boils over when Juwon laughs loudly once again, throwing his hands up as he meets Vernon’s eyes. “Not my fuckin’ fault your girlfriend can’t walk. Maybe he’s too fucked up, Vern. Get him home safe; tuck him in. Kiss him goodnight for me?” 
Vernon tilts his head, refusing to respond to Juwon’s words as others around him laugh at the pathetic excuse for jokes. Instead he moves to Jun, trying to help him up, only to feel his hands get slapped away as Jun glares at him, his eyes quickly softening before he gets to his feet on his own. “I got it. I’m fine. I just want to get the fuck out of here.” 
Following Jun, doing his best to keep up, Vernon sighs as Jun tugs open the door to his car, sliding behind the wheel and wiping under his nose hard. Glancing down to the wet, sticky feeling of blood running from his nose, Jun rolls his eyes and leans his head back before meeting Vernon’s eyes and shaking his head. “I don’t wanna hear it.” 
“I wasn’t gonna say a damn thing.” That was the truth. Vernon didn’t have to say what Jun already knew. It had been a bad idea to come to this party. From the moment they had walked in, Vernon had felt it, and now Jun was bleeding because of it. “You want me to drive you home?” 
Grimacing, Jun shakes his head again and wipes under his nose, checking the heel of his hand for more blood. “No, I just—I appreciate the offer, but I wanna be alone. I’ll call you tomorrow.” 
Taking a step back, Vernon watches Jun shut his door,his eyes following the Toyota down the street until it turns the corner, leaving him alone as the sun starts to set. He knew that he should leave too. Logically, Vernon knew that it would be smart to get in his Beretta and drive off—leave all this bullshit behind, but then he hears the laughter from inside the house and logic is off the table. 
“Did you see his stupid fuckin’ face?” Juwon mimics Jun falling forward as Alanna tips back her beer, her eyes bright watching him getting attention from the small crowd around them. They weren’t Christen and you, but when it came to this scene—this is when they were King and Queen. 
Grinning as he slides his fingers along Alanna’s side, Juwon nods, agreeing to another drink as Jake slides off the couch, moving towards the kitchen to gather them for the group. “You having a good time, babe?” He knew she was; he could see that hazed, lazy look in her eyes. She was just high enough, just drunk enough, that the world didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was right in front of her, and that was how Alanna loved to exist. 
“Mmm—so fucking good. Only be better if—” Leaning in to whisper in to Juwon’s ear, Alanna drapes her leg over his thigh, causing him to groan not only to her dirty words but also to the weight of her knee over his crotch. “Know what I mean? Can’t do that here.” 
Juwon’s finger slid down further to grip at Alanna’s hip, her skirt sliding up slightly on her thigh, causing Jake to cough as he averted his eyes. “I—shit. Got more beers... I’ll leave ‘em here. Y’all wanna use my room or somethin’? Don’t fuck on my couch, alright?” 
Pushing his tongue against his teeth, Vernon leans against the wall in the dark hall next to the bathroom as he watches the scene in front of him carefully. It was interesting how much people would let themselves go when they thought they were amongst friends or those who worshipped them. Vernon also thought it was interesting what people left just lying around—or at least what they kept in their medicine cabinets. 
Jake’s mother had been in a car accident about a year ago. Vernon remembered when that had happened. It had been dramatic for the town. She was some important bigwig businesswoman that people thought others should give a fuck about, but Vernon didn’t even know her name until today. He had learned it when he had read her name on the medicine bottle before he had pocketed the pills inside of it. 
Vernon had never been a good chemistry student, but he did know that certain things shouldn’t be taken in large dosages. The human body wasn’t made to accept opioids at an accelerated rate in large quantities. While Vernon hadn’t been great in school, he had enjoyed watching people and realizing how little they watched him. Like how Jake hadn’t paid attention as Vernon added the crushed-up pills to Alanna and Juwon’s drinks before he handed them off to the couple.
It didn’t take long for the drinks to disappear and for the expressions on their faces to change. There was a difference between being high and what they were feeling now. Moving to his feet, Juwon holds his hand to his head as Alanna shakes out her hands, trying to get a grip on herself. “Com—come on, baby. Let’s get out o—outta here.” 
Nodding along with Juwon, Alanna moves to her feet, stumbling along side of him, finding herself holding him upright as the two make their way towards his car. Had they drunk that much? Trying to think back, Alanna blinks a few times as she counts the beers to herself before her attention is brought back to the present and to Juwon when he groans weakly, his legs giving out and pulling her down with him. 
“Juwon… Shit. Wha—baby!” The euphoric feeling of fun that had been running through Alanna’s body just an hour before was long gone as she lazily swiped Juwon’s hair back, feeling warm tears running down her cheeks. All she could feel now was fear mixed with horror as she watched his eyes roll back, his breaths becoming more like choked gasps. “Baby, wake up!” 
Tilting his head, Vernon took in a deep pull from his cigarette before letting it settle in his chest for a second and blowing it out into the wind. He knew that Alanna was trying to be loud enough that others from the party would hear and come to their aid, but she was exhausted and fading. 
Shaking Juwon as hard as she can manage, Alanna sobs, unable to tell if he is breathing—the choking sounds no longer reaching her ears. Leaning back against the side of the car, she tries to focus and to find anyone to help them, but the only person she sees makes her blood run cold. Vernon smirks, flicking the last of his cigarette from his fingers before blowing out another deep breath of smoke, his eyes never leaving Alanna’s. It’s only when the girl’s head falls forward, her body slumping over Juwon's, does Vernon slide behind the wheel of his car and drive down the street. 
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At this point, you were becoming numb from going to funerals. It was two days after the morbid joint memorial that Juwon and Alanna’s family had held, and though you had cried—now you just felt numb. 
You had watched Christen pass a flask back and forth between himself, Caitlin, and a few other friends in the church—that had only served to put you in an even worse headspace. To you, this entire experience should be a reason for your friends to clean up their act. Two of your friends had overdosed, and yet the others felt the need to celebrate that by trying to follow in their footsteps. 
There had been a full day of you avoiding your phone and pager. You knew that Caitlin wanted you to spend time with her and that Christen would be right on your heels, but the numbness made it easy to say no, or at least nothing at all. It wasn’t until that second day when your parents had apologized for having to leave you alone for a few days that you felt like you could finally breathe. 
You knew you should want their company. You should want the hovering of your mother and the protective shield of your father, but all you wanted was space from the usual. So, when someone knocks at your door just a couple of hours after you had gotten that space, you find yourself almost willing to let them get tired of knocking as you lay on the couch. 
“Y/N?” 
Furrowing your brows at the sound of your name, you glance towards the front door before sitting up and wrapping your arms around yourself. You had expected either Christen or Caitlin to come demanding your attention, or even someone from the local church to visit with a casserole, but you hadn’t expected to hear Vernon’s voice. 
Opening the door slowly, you meet his eyes and Vernon’s soft smile almost makes you collapse at how easily he starts to seep through that numbness that had taken over your being. “Hi… Why—I mean… Do you wanna come in?”
Vernon isn’t surprised when you start to ask him why he’s there. He had tried to call you, but you weren’t picking up your phone. He could see the look on your face. You looked like you hadn’t slept well in a few days. He didn’t want to pity you, but there was something about that pout on your pretty lips that almost broke his heart. 
“Yeah—yes, I mean sure. If you want me to, I mean, you know if your parents won’t freak the fuck out.” Vernon watches you shake your head as you take a step back and open the door more for him. Moving past you, Vernon takes in a deep breath, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the idea of being inside your house. He had wanted this for so long; he knew that if he went up those stairs and to the right, the last door had to be your room. God, he wanted to see your room. 
“My parents aren’t here.” Sighing softly, you close the door, locking it behind you before watching Vernon as he looks around a bit. “They left this morning to go out of town. Should be back next week sometime.” 
Raising his brows, Vernon looks at a picture of your family—your mother sitting in a chair as you stand beside her and your father behind you both, his hands on either of your shoulders. It was such a classic family photo, and yet to him it looked so fucking fake. Vernon could see you that weren’t as happy as you pretended to be in the picture; there was a fakeness to the smile. He had seen a real smile from you, and he wanted to see it again. 
“Oh—that’s… They left you with all this shit going on? That’s kinda fucked—” Hissing under his breath, Vernon meets your eyes and lets out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business and I’m sure they have their reasons. I just worry about you in this big ass house alone with everything—this house seems lonely, Y/N.” 
You wrap your arms back around yourself, suddenly feeling cold at all that Vernon is pointing out. The house was too big for just you, and it was a bit lonely... Yet you were still enjoying that solitude—minus him. You liked him there. “It’s not so bad; I mean, you’re here. It’s not lonely now. I—and honestly, they were smothering me. I needed a break from them. I needed one from every—that sounds bad.” 
It didn’t sound bad to Vernon. That was something that he understood better than anyone. Sometimes you just needed a break from everyone and everything. If it wasn’t necessary, you had to rid yourself of it. He was finding out he was good at that—very good, in fact. 
Taking one step closer, Vernon smiles slightly, his lips pulling up at one side as he tries his luck a bit to be in your space. He wants to be less of a coward and reach out, take your hand or pull you into his arms, but the fear of pushing you away keeps him just far enough away that you tilt your head and give him that sweet smile that makes Vernon’s stomach twist up in knots. “It’s completely fucking fair, Y/N. I—look, I was hoping that I wasn’t bothering you. I wanted to check on you and… Fuck I don’t know what I was thinking. I missed you. I just wanted to see your pretty face, honestly.” 
Looking down, you press your lips together, trying to keep your reaction hidden. You feel the heat spread across your cheeks, and it only gets hotter as Vernon chuckles and takes one step closer to you. “Y/N?” Watching his hand tremble slightly, your lips pull up in a small smile as he works up the courage to lift his hand to your face, his fingers carefully tilting your head up so you will meet his eyes once again. 
“I’m listening.” You knew you probably shouldn’t let yourself enjoy the feeling of Vernon’s calloused fingers on your cheek, but you were. You should be sad right now, hidden in your room mourning the loss of your friends. But as you meet Vernon’s eyes, all you feel are the butterflies in your stomach. “I—would…” Taking a deep breath, you close the distance between yourself and Vernon, causing him to take a deep breath in return. “Could you hangout for a while? I don’t think I wanna be alone.” 
Vernon’s skin erupts with goosebumps as your fingers trace his forearm up to his rest, where you wrap your delicate hand around his wrist. He expects you to move his hand from your face, but instead you lean into his touch, your head tilted as you wait for him to answer you. Swallowing hard, he nods while tracing your cheekbone, feeling the soft skin under his thumb. “���Course I will.” 
Listening to the sound of popcorn popping a room away, Vernon runs his fingers over the couch underneath him. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t nervous. You terrified him just as much as you enthralled him. Finally reaching for the small assortment of VHS tapes on the coffee table in front of them, Vernon reads over the titles, trying to make a decision. 
You had left the movie choice in Vernon’s hands, declaring that he would have the most expertise in that field while you would take care of snacks. Leaning against the kitchen counter, you tap your foot against the cold ceramic tiles as you gnaw at your thumb nail watching the popcorn bag spin in the microwave on the countertop in front of you. Your stomach was in knots. You wanted Vernon there, and yet there was that sense of breaking the rules hanging over your head. There was a looming air of risk weighing on you that made you feel like you were in another dimension as you thought about where the night could go—Vernon’s hand on your cheek, his lips on yours—BEEP BEEP BEEP! 
Gasping, you put your hand to your chest, your eyes closed as the microwave comes to a stop, pulling you out of your daydream and back to reality. Emptying the popcorn into a bowl, you balance it on your arm as you carry two cans of soda against your stomach with your other hand making your way back to the living room and Vernon. 
“If we want something to eat in a bit, I can order pizza. Jerry’s is open until 9 o'clock.” Putting the bowl onto the table, you smile at Vernon as he makes a sound, realizing you were so close. Letting him take the sodas from you, you sit on the couch near him, keeping a space between the two of you as you let out a sigh, your eyes moving over the tapes to see what he had picked. 
“Whatever you want... I can always eat, but this is great.” Popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth, Vernon glances at you first and then down to the marginal space between himself and you. It made sense; it wasn’t like the two of you were dating really. Things had been discussed, but being interested and wanting to see where things went didn’t mean it was official. Still, the space made Vernon furrow his brows and caused his stomach to tighten with anxiety. “Yo—you good, Y/N? Is Seven okay?” 
Smiling softly, you shift a bit on the couch, your fingers under your thighs, letting the end of your denim shorts catch between your fingers as you bite at your lips anxiously. “Mmm, yeah. I’m fine. I’ve never seen it; my dad buys most of the movies.” Moving back to your feet, you swipe the VHS from the table and kneel in front of the entertainment center as Vernon watches you carefully. “Is it really scary? I mean—it’s totally okay if it is. Brad Pitt is hot, so that makes up for my trauma.” 
Vernon grins watching you put the tape into the VCR, your head tilting as you sigh and press the rewind button, realizing that your dad hadn’t done it after his last watch of the movie. “It’s not too bad. More thriller and a bit gory. If you don’t like it, we can cut it off and try something else.” 
Getting back to your feet, you shake your head and move back towards Vernon, offering him the remote before taking your seat. “I’m not that much of a wuss. Besides, you won’t let the movie hurt me, right?” You knew it was a pathetic attempt at flirting, but the slight smile on Vernon’s lips and the flush running along his ears to his neck made you feel a bit better about how nervous you were. 
“Nah… never. Wouldn’t let anything hurt you, honestly.” Leaning back against the cushions, Vernon doesn’t see your expression change as he presses play and pops a few more kernels of popcorn into his mouth. He doesn’t seem to understand how much his words effect you and how your heart beats quicker in your chest. It doesn’t seem to dawn on him until you slide closer to him, your legs tucked up under you so that you can rest your shoulder against his arm. 
Struggling to watch the movie, Vernon stays in the same awkward position for the first forty-five minutes of the movie. His eyes move from the television to your face, the pout on your lips becoming more evident as time ticks by, until finally you sigh and reach forward to grab a handful of popcorn, letting Vernon take a much-needed breath. 
He leans his head back, cursing under his breath as you stay forward on your knees for what seems like an impossible amount of time, when in truth it’s only a few seconds—long enough to take a sip of your drink to wash down your popcorn. When you lean back, you gasp quietly under your breath before lifting your eyes towards Vernon, finding yourself tucked into his side. Now your cheeks were burning, and you could feel Vernon’s fingers brushing together against your shoulder as he took a deep breath, seeming to need it for courage as he kept his eyes forward with his arm behind you on the couch. 
You felt perfect against his side, and it was almost devastating to Vernon. You smelled sweet and just as warm as you felt; it was causing him to almost feel lightheaded. Lifting his free hand to his lips, Vernon rubs at them as he glances down at you, being careful not to move his head. God, you were so beautiful. He had looked at you so many times, and he had been close enough to look at you, but never this close. If he really wanted to, Vernon was almost convinced he could take the time to count your eyelashes or freckles while he admired your face. 
Grimacing at the movie, you whine, finding yourself tucking your body and head against Vernon, wanting to get away from the sight of blood and filth in front of you. “So gross…” Fingers brush over your hair and Vernon smiles behind his fingers, finally moving them as he meets your eyes, knowing he has your attention. 
“Is it too much?” 
Rubbing your lips together, you can’t help the way you take in a deep breath of Vernon’s cologne, letting it invade your senses. Looking from his eyes to his lips and back, you shyly smile before you shake your head. “It’s okay.” 
You were saying one thing, and your body language was telling Vernon something completely different—and yet the movie was beginning to not matter. Vernon could almost feel the path of your eyes as they move to his lips before his eyes take the same walk down your face and he feels your fingers gently trace the sleeve of his t-shirt where it sits on his bicep. Did you want him to kiss you? All signs were pointing to yes…
The feeling of Vernon’s fingers on your chin this time is almost electric as he gently keeps your head in place, leaning down to test the waters by brushing his lips against yours. Resting his nose along yours, he smiles when your fingers close against his arm, dragging your nails along his skin gently. “Y/N... is that what you want? I gotta know. I don’t wanna do anything you don’t want.” 
God, your head was spinning. For your entire high school existence and the short time you have had outside of it trying to navigate being a woman, you had never been asked what you wanted. Christen never asked. He told and took, or at least he tried. There had been so many times when he had almost taken things from you that you would have never been able to get back, and now as you clung to Vernon, his lips hovering over yours and that question on his lips—you yearned. 
“Please? Kiss me? I want it.” 
Vernon’s brows furrow tightly, almost painfully so at how needy you sound. His lips meet yours gently, but not without meaning. He doesn’t want to scare you, but he also doesn’t want to risk you slipping through his fingers as he tastes your lip balm on his tongue. 
To Vernon, you seem delicate, almost as if he were to hold you too tightly, he might break you. It’s almost frustrating to you when you whine into the most breathtaking kiss you had ever received and Vernon’s hand tightens on your hip only for him to shakily loosen his grip and move his hand as if he’s afraid of something. 
Shifting on the couch, you open your eyes, moving your leg slowly along Vernon’s thigh to see how he will react. You furrow your brows, feeling a rush of arousal, your panties beginning to stick to your folds when Vernon groans your name from deep in his throat to the feeling of the warmth between your legs against his jeans. 
“Shit—I… Y/N, I gotta—” Vernon leans his head back, his eyes searching the ceiling as you stay still, almost afraid to move based on his reaction and the feeling bubbling inside of you. Glancing over his face and down along his neck, you finally make up your mind, leaning forward to press your lips to the junction between Vernon’s jaw and his neck and listening to his breath quicken. 
Hands slide along your legs to the end of your shorts, where Vernon forces himself to stop and let his hands rest even as his fingers knead at your soft thighs. He could feel how hard he was getting from the feeling of your warmth against his leg and your soft, plush lips on his throat.  “Y/N…” 
Your name was starting to sound like a prayer on Vernon’s lips, as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded and sitting on the couch. “I like you, Vernon. Like a lot, if that isn’t clear.” Groaning in a mixture of frustration and pleasure, Vernon lifts one hand from your leg to run his fingers through his hair, tugging gently to bring himself back to reality. You were making it hard for him to keep his head clear as you traced the collar of his shirt and adjusted your leg over his. 
“I think it’s painfully obvious that I like you too.” Sighing, Vernon meets your eyes as you smile at him. Your face is so sweet, not a bit of malice or ill intent behind your eyes. There is something so innocent and pure about you that makes him equally excited and horrified. “I’m enjoying this. I’m ju—I’m enjoying it a little too much.” 
You weren’t stupid or completely naive. You could feel how hard Vernon was as you dared to slide your leg further up his, resting your knee dangerously close to his crotch. It wasn’t like you hadn’t made out with guys or that you had been around Christen when he had gotten too excited, but this was different. You wanted to be here. You wanted more with Vernon, and you knew what it meant and how it would change things. 
“That’s okay, right? It’s just—you know, just us here. Um, if we wanted to, you know.” 
Tilting his head, Vernon can’t stop the way his lips pull up in a soft, amused smile at your phrasing. Were you embarrassed to ask him for more, or were you afraid to say the words? Or was it something else? Were you even more pure than he thought? 
“Wanted to what, Y/N? Make out? We already were…” 
Whining at Vernon’s words, you shift even closer to him as you shake your head no firmly. “I—no, I mean yes. I want to kiss you so much. Keep kissing me, but more. I mean, if—if you want me like that.” 
The moment that your confidence seems to wane, Vernon’s brows furrow and his hand moves to your neck, pulling you closer for a deep kiss that once again takes your breath. Gasping into the kiss, you feel a rush of excitement run through your body as his other hand slips around to your ass, fingers slipping into your back pocket. 
“You got literally no fucking idea how much I want you like that or how long I’ve—God, baby.” The pet name slips off Vernon’s lips as a soft whine before he can stop himself. A rush of fear moves through him quickly, but when you smile on his lips and shift over his lap to sit on his thighs, Vernon’s anxiety melts away. “Are you sure?”
Nodding, you let your knees slide to either side of Vernon’s legs, a soft gasp escaping your lips when you finally feel the bulge of his cock press against the center of your legs. “Uh huh, I’m sure, but—god, it’s so embarrassing.” Lowering your head to press your face against Vernon’s neck, you only feel shame for a moment before his hand slides over your back to join the other on your ass, helping you gently grind down over his jeans. “Oh…” 
This had to be a dream—some perfect wet dream that Vernon would wake up from with his boxers sticky from cum. There was no way you were actually rolling your hips down over his cock, and those pretty little whines were real, but it all felt real. You were warm on his lap, your pussy almost hot even through your shorts. Your ass felt soft in his hands as Vernon tightened his fingers over the denim, trying to keep himself from throwing you down on the floor and fucking you right there in front of the family portrait over the fireplace. “Fuck—don’t be embarrassed in front of me, please? What’s wrong? Talk to me, baby.” 
Kissing gently at Vernon’s neck, you furrow your brows, feeling his fingers run over your head as he asks you to talk to him. Taking his hand when he moves it to your neck, you link your fingers with Vernon’s before nodding. “I’ve never done this before, Vernon. I wanna do it. I wanna—I want it with you, but I just don’t wanna fuck it up.” 
If there was a way for Vernon to die, go to heaven, and end up back on your couch in the span of seconds, it had happened. Staring up at you, he licks his lips, trying to come up with the right words before finally shaking his head and letting out a sigh. “You’re perfect. You couldn’t fuck up a single thing even if you tried.” 
Patting your thighs, Vernon helps you to your feet and offers you his hand as you give him a confused look. “I’m not doing this on your couch in your living room, Y/N. You deserve so much better than that.” Gently tugging at your hand, he leads you towards the staircase, and you find yourself enamored by Vernon as he leads you to your bedroom. 
While Vernon had thought being in your house was overwhelming, being in your bedroom was like being inside of his dreams. It was like being inside your head and learning how to understand you from the inside out. Dropping your hand for a moment, he moves to turn on your bedside lamp before turning back to you and offering you his hand as you tilt your head and laugh softly. “How did you know which room was mine?” 
You watch Vernon’s eyes shift to your window quickly before he laughs and shrugs into a sigh, his arms wrapping around you while he walks backwards towards your bed. “Lucky guess and I followed my nose. It smells like your perfume.” Vernon wasn’t going to tell you that he had counted your windows hundreds of times and that he had guessed the layout of your house, perhaps knowing it better than his own. No, he wasn’t going to fuck up the best thing that had ever happened to him as you looked up at him like he had hung the stars in the sky. 
“Oh… I bet I could find your room like that too. Your cologne smells so good; it’s my favorite thing.” Leaning forward, you rest your nose in the crook of Vernon’s neck, taking in a breath and Vernon thinks he could die right then and there. Yes, he liked you, but that wasn’t strong enough for the emotions that you made him feel—he loved you. 
“Jesus, Y/N… You don’t even fucking understand what you’re doing to me. I—here, lay down. Let me—I gotta take care of you, right? Make this matter.” Carefully turning with you in his arms, Vernon walks you backwards until your knees hit your bed. “I got you.” Resting his knee beside you, Vernon keeps his eyes locked on yours as he helps you lay back on your bed, a pillow under your head—another picture from a dream he’s had a hundred times. 
Trailing his fingers slowly along your side, Vernon shakes his head as you shift under him, squirming slightly in anticipation. “You’re telling me that no one else has touched you like this?” When you whine his name, Vernon smiles, the warm, soft feeling of your skin under his fingertips as he pushes your shirt up your torso towards your breasts, exposing your body to him... inch by inch. 
“It’s just a question. I just can’t believe I’m this fucking lucky. Crazy to me actually…” Vernon’s words make your cheeks heat up, but any complaints you have die on your tongue when his lips gently brush over your stomach. “But I’ll take care of you... Make you feel good, I promise.” 
You find yourself wondering how many people Vernon had been with before you, but before you can ask, a moan slips from your lips at the feeling of his warm breath and kisses moving along your skin. You knew this would feel good—having someone touch you, kissing you—but you had no idea it would be this good when he had just started. 
“Please… please? Can I see you? ‘M so nervous, Vernon... Don’t tease me.” 
Vernon could tell you were nervous. You were trembling under him. Every kiss brought out a new shiver and more goosebumps. He knew it wasn’t fear, because if he even for a moment thought you were afraid of him, Vernon would stop. That was his worst nightmare—a world where you weren’t safe and happy. 
“Not teasing, baby. I’m exploring… I’m—mm…” Chuckling against your skin, Vernon hisses, almost afraid to say what he wants to, but a glance up to meet your eyes gives him the confidence he needs. “I’m loving you. Lift your hips for me, angel.” 
Wiggling your hips from side to side, you grip at the bedding under you as Vernon works your jean shorts down your thighs and finally off your legs. In that moment, feeling Vernon’s hand running along your leg back towards your thigh, you find yourself happy that you had taken the time to shave your legs. The thought seems trivial and silly, but the feeling of his rougher hands on your soft skin is better than anything you’ve ever felt before. 
“You’re so beautiful. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life, you know that?” Vernon grins as you let out a soft, happy sound to his words and also to the feeling of his lips against your knee. It was killing him to go so slowly, but it was what you deserved. He could just imagine Christen throwing you on the bed and shoving his cock in you. Some bastard who didn’t give a shit about anything other than getting his dick wet, watching you cry, not even from pleasure as he got his rocks off... No, Vernon wasn’t about to treat you like that. He would never treat you like that. 
“Can I?” Sucking in a breath as you feel the back of Vernon’s finger trace the lace around your thigh near the center of your legs, you glance down between your legs and whine. You could see how wet you were and there was no way that Vernon hadn’t noticed too. He was being so respectful, and you loved that he was asking. “Hm? Can I take these off too?” 
“Yeah…” Your voice is quieter than you mean for it to be so you nod, making sure that Vernon meets your eyes. Lifting your hips one more time, you quickly close your eyes when you feel air hit your wet folds and Vernon helps you lift your legs one at a time until your panties are discarded on the floor with your shorts. 
All Vernon wanted was for you to look at him, but the embarrassment was written on your face like a book. This was the first time anyone had seen you like this and he wasn’t going to push you. He was going to help you and ease you into feeling more comfortable. “Pretty girl, it’s just us. I want you to know that you are perfect. Everything about you, from your head to your toes.” 
Your quiet laugh causes Vernon’s lips to pull up in a smile. He loved that sound and he meant what he said. Slowly moving his hands along your legs, Vernon lets you decide when to spread your legs and he does his best to muffle his groan when he is able to take you in completely. “Shh—okay. Perfect, baby. You still okay?” 
Whimpering his name under your breath, you open your eyes to meet Vernon’s and wonder if that was a mistake when you find him watching you closely. Lifting your arm to put it over your eyes for a second before raising it over your arm, you nod and wiggle down in the bed towards Vernon as his breath quickens. “Yeah… Still wanna see you.” 
A scoff slips from between Vernon’s lips and he nods, forcing himself to pull his eyes away from you. It was difficult. You were every bit his wet dream a thousand times over as you lay on the bed naked from the waist down, your shirt bunched up under your perfect tits. “You can see me. Whatever you want.” 
Sitting up on your elbows, you bite your lips as you watch Vernon stand at the end of your bed. Your instinct is your move—to help him as he pulls his shirt over his head or as he undoes his belt, but instead you find yourself frozen in a trance. It isn’t until Vernon pushes his thumbs into the top of his boxers, his eyes meeting yours, that you glance away only to hear him laugh under his breath and whisper your name. 
“Don’t be so shy about it. Even if we just end up making out, I’m not gonna be disappointed, alright? You wanted to see me... Is that still true?” Nodding, you slowly move your eyes over Vernon’s body, letting out a deep breath. You felt childish, like you were still stuck in high school until the exact moment that Vernon’s boxers hit the ground and your eyes met his with want. 
Running his hand over his mouth, Vernon stiffles a groan at the look on your face and to the relief of pressure being off of his cock. He wanted more; he needed more... but this was a start. You were looking at him like he was a full-course meal and he wasn’t planning on making you wait much longer. 
“God, you can’t keep looking at me like that. Come ‘ere…” Helping you sit up more, Vernon meets your eyes with a smile before quickly pressing his lips to yours, his hands working your shirt over your chest. Humming against his lips, you lift your arms, letting him break the kiss to help you out of the shirt completely before his lips are right back on yours. 
Skin meets skin and you find your thighs brushing together at the feeling of Vernon’s cock resting on your lower stomach as his fingers work the clasp of your bra open at the middle of your back. “Oh my god... Please go faster, Vernon.” 
There was that want and need in your voice again. Vernon has already been leaking onto your skin, but with those words, he felt his cock jerk, a rush of pre-cum oozing along your stomach as he tugs your bra from your arms and tosses it over his head, not caring where it lands. 
“Fuck.” There wasn’t much more that Vernon could think to say as he looked at you now. Your lips bitten and swollen from his kisses, your breasts rising and falling quickly with each deep breath, and your knee running along his hip. The moment he feels your warm, wet folds on his thigh, Vernon thinks he’s died one more time. It wasn’t like he had fucked many other girls in his life. A couple of hookups at shitty parties, but none of them had mattered and none of them had made him feel like he was going to lose his fucking mind. He had always heard that your first time, the one who took your virginity was supposed to be the one that you remembered forever… Right now he couldn’t even remember her name, much less her face, as you looked up at him and ran your fingers along his jaw. 
“Are you gonna—” Swallowing hard, you struggle for the right word, but your cheeks bloom with heat and Vernon smiles. “Don’t make fun of me. It’s hard… I don’t know how to say it without sounding gross. I want you... Put it in.” 
God, Vernon felt like he could cum on the spot hearing you say something like that. He wanted to be inside of you, but that wasn’t how this should work. He watches how you pout, a full frown forming on your pretty lips when he shakes his head. Pressing a kiss to your lips, Vernon groans before working the kisses to your cheek and down your jaw to your neck as he speaks quietly. “I will, I promise... Just not yet. I’m not an asshole, baby. It’s not gonna feel good at first, no matter what I do, but I gotta make sure you're ready either way. You understand?” 
You weren’t a child; you had touched yourself plenty of times and Christen had tried to show you porn to see how embarrassed you would get. You knew what Vernon was talking about, but seeing and feeling was different. With a breath getting caught in your throat, you run your fingers through Vernon’s hair as he kisses the top of each of your breasts, glancing up at you to make sure you are okay before running his tongue around one of your nipples. Arching from the mattress, you moan behind tight lips, your brows furrowed as Vernon smiles against your skin, sucking the bud into his mouth gently. 
“Holy shit… That feels so good. Your mouth…” It all felt so dirty, like you shouldn’t be able to experience it, and yet as Vernon’s fingers caressed your stomach moving lower, your head just got clouded with arousal. The first pass of his thumb between your folds is like being shocked by a live wire. Any attempt you had at being quiet fails, your lips falling open in a breathy moan that has Vernon groaning against your soft breast as he repeats the motion. “Please, please, please...” 
Your pleads sound like a prayer—a song of worship sang by a true believer as you lift your hips and roll them towards Vernon’s fingers as he uses his knuckles and thumb to massage your clit. “You’re so wet, Y/N.” Vernon had said your name and he was talking about you, but you weren’t sure he was actually speaking to you. It was more that he was saying the words on his mind out loud in wonder as he finally eased his index finger into your tight hole, feeling you clench down around him like a vice. 
“Baby… Fuck—” Vernon’s voice gets caught in his throat as he rests his forehead against your chest, working his finger into you, feeling your arousal seeping around it. “Relax for me. Let me help you feel good, huh?” 
You were trying to relax, but Vernon’s finger was deep inside of you and you could feel every time he would bend his knuckle, raking the pad of his finger back towards your stomach. It was overwhelming how good it felt and how much you wanted more. To you, it made no sense how you could already feel so full and yet so empty. “Uh huh…” 
“That’s my girl.”
Vernon’s voice had dropped an octave and as if that wasn’t hot enough, he had called you his girl. God, you wanted to be his girl. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted that until he said it. You wanted to be his, only his for the rest of your life. You knew it was silly, that this was probably that first time euphoria taking over you, but looking into Vernon’s brown eyes as he smiled up at you sliding down further into the bed... You were falling in love with his boy. 
Using his other hand to separate your folds, Vernon groans under his breath as he glances from you back to what he is doing before leaning in to run his tongue from his finger to your clit. He hadn’t warned you, but being between your legs, his mouth level with your pussy should have told you everything you needed to know, in his opinion. Yet, when you practically scream his name, your mouth falling open in shock, Vernon just grins and latches on to your clit rendering you speechless. 
This was like nothing you had ever felt before. You had fingered yourself before, played with your clit... but having Vernon’s mouth on you? That was pushing you over the edge so fast that you couldn’t think straight. There were no intelligent thoughts in your brain; the only thing that was there was Vernon, Vernon, Vernon... 
Trying to lift your hips, you let out a choked moan when a second finger eases in to you next to the first. The feeling of being full and wet skyrockets you to the moon and back; your thighs shake on either side of Vernon’s head and before you can warn him, the coil that had been so quickly winding inside of you snaps. 
Closing his eyes, Vernon groans loudly, feeling your thighs close around his head as you cum. He knew it was coming. He could feel your walls squeezing his fingers—the way you were pushing your hips down over his hand trying to fuck yourself. When you finally let your legs fall to either side, apologies slipping from your lips, Vernon silences them by slowly slipping his fingers from you so he can replace them with his tongue. 
Fingers tightly grip at brown locks as you struggle to not trap Vernon’s head between your thighs once again. You sob out his name on a moan, tears running down your cheeks as your thighs begin to shake once again. “I can’t—oh, my god. It almost hurts, Vernon.” 
Furrowing his brows, Vernon groans at how good you taste, but your words make him find his restraint. Licking his lips, he takes a deep breath and meets your eyes with blown-out pupils, his hips pressed firmly into your comforter to keep himself from rutting against it. “‘M sorry, baby. You taste so good. I don’t want it to hurt; I just want you to feel good.” 
Vernon’s lips pull into a soft smile when you reach for him. Sliding up in the bed between your legs, he kisses your jaw and then your lips before gliding his tongue along yours, letting you taste yourself. Making a face, your brows knitting together, you pull back from Vernon to pout up at him and shake your head as his fingers lightly stroke your side. “Tastes awful… But I do feel good—so, so good. I—I want this. I want it all. Can I—you?” 
A laugh starts to leave Vernon’s mouth, along with a comeback about how you taste like candy to him when your hand wraps around his cock and nothing he was going to say is left in his head. Groaning, he rests his forehead against yours, letting out a shaky breath before wrapping his hand loosely over yours and guiding it over his shaft in a slow stroke from base to tip and back. 
“Tru—trust me… I want you to. I want so much with you, but fuck. If I let you do this or anything else…” A long groan of your name falls from Vernon’s lips as he meets your eyes, looking for mercy, when you break free from his hand and trace the slit in his head with your thumb, feeling pre-cum ooze around your finger. “Babe, I’ll cum before I can fuck you. I can’t bounce back as quickly as you and I really—don’t do this to me. Please, beautiful.” 
You could see yourself getting addicted to the power of having Vernon’s cock in your hand. You loved how you were reducing him to breathy moans and begging, but you wanted to feel him inside of you. You wanted him to be your first and you wanted it today. You didn’t want to wait anymore. Lightly scratching your nails along the underside of his shaft, you pull your fingers from Vernon, watching him choke on his breath, his arms shaking as he struggles to keep himself above you. “Okay, Vernon, but I wanna do this next time.” 
Next time. Those two words made Vernon feel like he was levitating. You didn’t want this to be a one-time thing. You wanted him in your life. Groaning deeply, Vernon nods, leaning down to capture your lips as he uses his left hand to pin your right wrist to the bed, keeping it away from his cock. “You can do whatever you want to me next time. I swear to god.” 
Silence takes over the room; only your shaky breaths are left as Vernon’s thumb strums at your pulse point over your wrist. You had asked for this, and now that it was going to happen, you found yourself once again so nervous that you felt like you could faint. Vernon could see it in your eyes, all those nerves racing through your mind. There was enough stress on you; this should take it away, not add more… He’d do what he had to in order to let you know this wasn’t scary. 
“Okay, baby? Rest your knee against my hip, keep your leg up... Should make it easier. I’ll go slow, and if you don’t like anything, you tell me right away. I’ll stop. I won’t be mad or sad.” Seeing the pout on your lips even as you move your leg like you were asked to do, Vernon copies it and shakes his head. “I like you so fucking much, Y/N. I liked you before we got in this bed and I’ll like you once we are out of it. This is a goddamn dream come true, angel.” 
It was almost like you could hear him telling you that he loved you, and while it scared you, it also made you relax under Vernon. The brush of his thumb over your warm cheek, his lips lazily moving over yours as he lined himself up with you and began to ease himself into you—it was all overwhelmingly perfect. 
Furrowing your brows to the stretch and then a stinging pain, you hiss on Vernon’s lips, causing him to look down at you as he finally bottoms out in you, feeling you clench around him. “Wait—” Nodding, Vernon bites at his lips, watching you closely as you seem to try to work out some internal problem, but as the pain starts to fade and your face relaxes so does his anxiety. “Okay, I’m okay. You can move.” 
He wanted to. Vernon’s brain was telling him to fuck you hard and fast, but his heart reminded him who you were and where he was so he kept it slow. Each thrust smooth and steady so he could keep his eyes on your pretty face, watching for any signs of discomfort, but the deeper and longer he went, he only saw bliss. “Is it good? You like it?” 
There weren’t words to describe how much you enjoyed the feeling of Vernon inside of you. It was as if you were made to be one and for you to feel this full, but as he kept his pace slow and his thrusts almost too shallow, you couldn’t explain the frustration building inside of you until it snapped. “Mmmhm, more? Can I have more?” 
Closing his eyes to hide how they were rolling back in his head from pleasure to your words, Vernon nods and buries his face in the crook of your neck. He was dying for more. He would have kept this pace for the entire time if it was what you wanted, but it would have been torture for him, but those words... and asking for more? 
“I’ll give you the fucking world. So, yeah, baby, I’ll give you more.” 
Vernon’s choice of words makes you smile, a bit giddy at how love struck he sounds but your moment is short lived because he stays true to his words. A loud gasping moan falls from your lips as Vernon’s hips meet yours hard, his cock buried in you so deep you wonder how you are possibly able to fit all of him. The drag of his tip as he pulls almost all the way out of you almost makes you cry in fear you are losing him but then he is back inside of you as if he never left, his hips rutting against yours harder and faster. 
“This what you wanted? More? Tell me it’s what you wanted.” 
Tears once again form in your eyes as you nod, feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach. You couldn’t believe how quickly Vernon could get you to your orgasm. There had been nights when you would lay on your back, your fingers working hard only to find no satisfaction. Yet Vernon was making you cry with how good he could make you feel. “Please, yes! So good… It’s what I want, Vernon. Don’t stop, please. I’m gonna—” 
You couldn’t even say that you were going to cum? God, you were perfect. Vernon’s perfect, pure little untainted rose that he was going to keep unsoiled by anyone else for the rest of his life if he had his way about it. Nipping at your jaw, Vernon groans loudly, feeling himself getting close to his own climax as your walls tighten and quiver around him. “Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby? Say it… Do it for me? I wanna hear you say it.” 
Pushing your head back against the pillow, you sob Vernon’s name as his fingers slip between your legs to rub at your clit as his cock fills you full, keeping you right on the edge. You find yourself wanting to give him exactly what he wants, even if it makes your entire body feel like it’s on fire and like you are going against every single moral thing you know. Biting your lips, you whimper, your words a whisper—yet Vernon smiles hearing each one. “I’m gonna cum for you.” 
A deep thrust, one that sends you towards the headboard as his fingers circle your clit without mercy, makes you do exactly that. Choking on your moans, you feel Vernon’s thumb wipe under your eyes pushing away your tears as he whispers your name and how good you are before he groans deep and pulls from you suddenly. 
Warm, sticky cum paints your stomach as Vernon’s hand strokes his cock quickly. Panting groans spill from between his lips as he sits back on his knees and lets his eyes move over your body to your face as you look up at him trying to catch your breath. 
“Fuck, babe…” Running his hand over his mouth, Vernon sighs, glancing down at the pool of cum on your stomach, running towards the top of your mound and he swears his cock could get hard again. “I—shit. Whi—which room is the bathroom? I’m gonna get a washcloth and clean this off you.”
Gesturing to the hall, you mutter across the hall, watching Vernon roll from your bed and towards your door. The more time that passes, even as you listen to the sound of water from a room over, you feel your chest get heavy—a deep sense of dread washing over you as tears once again threaten your eyes. This time when the tears spill over your cheeks, they aren’t from pleasure and you find yourself confused as to why you feel so upset after something that felt so good. 
Washcloth in hand, Vernon sighs only to stop in his tracks seeing you crying. “Wh—shit. No, what’s wrong?” Sitting on the bed beside of you, he runs his fingers through your hair while using his other hand to carefully clean your stomach. The moment he is back on your bed, his hands on you, the dread you had felt starts to fade, your chest feeling lighter. 
“I–” Swallowing hard, you shake your head and lean into Vernon’s touch as he slides down in the bed and pulls you into his arms, letting you curl up against him tightly. “I don’t know. I felt so alone all of a sudden and scared.” 
Shushing you, Vernon kisses your forehead, running his hand along your back as your fingers scratch lightly at his stomach, causing him to suck in a breath. “I’m—fuck… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you right after like that. I didn’t even think. That was so stupid. I just didn’t want all that shit to dry on your skin. I’m not gonna leave you, baby. I promise.” 
Promise. That word makes your heart jump and you wrap your arm around Vernon’s waist, pulling yourself even closer to him. You knew that there was a risk of falling in love with the person who took your virginity, but that wasn’t what this was. This was something more. This was more about who Vernon was and the type of person he was. 
Pressing a kiss to Vernon’s chest, you look up after to find him smiling down at you. It was taking everything in you not to say those three little words that he wanted to hear more than anything. 
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Tapping his fingers against his steering wheel, Christen sighs loudly as he turns on to your street. He was annoyed. You hadn’t been answering your phone, and you had avoided him for two days. 
It wasn’t like he didn’t know what was going on. He was feeling some sort of way after going to the funeral too, but that didn’t mean he was going to be a bitch and cut people off from his life like you were. Clearly you were just dealing with shit and needed to be checked on. 
Pushing his tongue against his cheek, Christen stares at the car in your driveway as if it will disappear. There was no fucking way that car was in your driveway. Your parents cars weren’t there, but Vernon Chwe’s was? Something was fucked up and he was fuming. 
Slamming his car into park and leaning forward to look at your house, Christen narrows his eyes at what lights are on. Where could you and this freak be? What were you two doing? He wasn’t sure what pissed him off more. The fact that Vernon was at your house. The fact that he was at your house alone with you. Or the fact that your bedroom light was on while the rest of the house was dark. 
“Motherfucker—I should…” The words trail off Christen’s lips as his eyes fall back on the Beretta, his blood boiling. If Vernon could taint something precious that belonged to him, he would ruin something precious of his. 
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Taking a deep breath, Vernon smiles when he realizes that you are in his arms. The smell of your shampoo and perfume almost overwhelms his senses even before he opens his eyes and pulls you a bit closer. He probably shouldn’t have stayed over, but after everything that happened, he couldn’t see himself leaving you—he didn’t want to leave you. 
You had been beautiful the night before, but in the morning light that could make it through your curtains, you were stunning. Vernon usually didn’t like the mornings. He preferred to sleep in until later in the day and spend his time out later at night, but for you—to see this, he’d get up at the crack of dawn. 
“Mmm…” Stretching against Vernon, you turn in his arms, nuzzling your nose against his chest. You were beginning to wake up, but everything around you still felt like the best dream ever. You were warm and safe in Vernon’s arms. Nothing bad could possibly happen to you ever again. There was nothing else besides what was in this room right now that mattered. 
Leaning to brush your hair from your forehead, Vernon smirks a bit to himself as your nose wrinkles a bit and you seem to try to hide from his touch and the light by burying your face even closer to his body. “Baby…” The word slips from Vernon’s tongue like candy and you smile against his skin, remembering how many times he had called you that the night before. “I gotta go home... least for a bit. Come on, don’t hide from me; let me see your pretty face for a bit.” 
Your smile fades at the idea of Vernon leaving you alone. You knew it wasn’t forever, but your mind was spiraling with the idea that he might not come back, so it took a lot of strength to meet his eyes and attempt not to look as sad as you felt. Though you tried to smile, Vernon could see the way your bottom lip was sticking out; he could see the concern in your eyes, and it almost broke his heart. 
“No… hey.” Sitting up, Vernon pulls you into his arms and cups your cheek, pressing his lips to yours and taking your breath away. You were melting against him. Vernon could feel how pliant you were in his hands and it was almost too much for him to handle. He knew without even having to ask that if he wanted to, he could lay you down and make love to you all over again… but he had to wait. “I’ll be back. You think I’m leavin’ you? I’m not an idiot. Got me for as long as you want me, Y/N.” 
It shouldn’t make you as happy as it does to hear Vernon pledge himself to you like he does after one night, but you can’t stop the smile that pulls at your lips even as you kiss him. “Promise? What if…” Laughing sweetly, you bite at your lip and give him a teasing look as he sighs, meeting your eyes. “What if I said forever?” 
Groaning, Vernon furrows his brows, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You might be joking, but god, he wished you weren’t. “Then you can have forever. ‘M yours, long as you want me, like I said. Just gotta make sure my mom doesn’t file a missing persons report.” 
Vernon laughs when you wince at his words, the cute look on your face making him fall even harder for you. He knew his mom wouldn’t actually do that, not after just one night. He had been gone for longer periods of time, but there were some things he needed to do before he came back to you. 
“I’m sorry, Vernon... I’m clingy, I guess.” Trailing your fingers along his chest, you sigh into your pout, feeling his fingers trace your jaw. Shaking his head, Vernon lets his index finger move over your cupid’s bow, feeling your lips press against the pad of his finger. He wants to give in and stay right where he is. 
“I’ll be back this afternoon, promise.” 
Even after trying to feed Vernon or at least send him home with some form of food, you are left in your foyer with your lips tingling as he refuses, saying this is more than enough. You can only watch as he winks at you and closes the door behind him, leaving you alone in your house, making you realize just how quiet it is when you are by yourself while you count down the hours until he comes back. 
Sliding the pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, Vernon puts one between his lips and starts to light it when his mouth falls open, the cigarette falling to the pavement at his feet. A moment before he could hear the birds chirping, cars driving in the distance, and even kids playing down the street. Now he could only hear the blood rushing in his ears as his eyes moved over the side of his Beretta and the red paint that had dripped down the entire side of the door in big capital letters: ‘PERV’. 
Shoving the cigarettes back into his pocket, Vernon curses through gritted teeth as he moves around the other side of his car, only to laugh in anger when he sees ‘LOSER’ on the other side in the same red paint. He didn’t need to figure out who had done this or even guess—he knew. There was only one person, Christen. 
The sound of the car door slamming outside makes you jump, your brows furrowing at how angry it sounds. You start to move to your front door when you hear tires squeal out of your driveway and down the street, leaving you confused and feeling a bit sick to your stomach. You knew that Vernon was a bit different from what you knew, but he wasn’t the type of person in your mind to drive recklessly. 
Deciding to settle back into the cushions of your couch and pass the time with television, you manage to zone out for a while. Your mind occasionally drifts to Vernon, causing your eyes to wander to the clock before you pull them back to your show. It had only been a couple of hours so when you hear a knock at your door, you are surprised but excited about the idea of him being back so soon. 
Practically skipping to the door, you pull it open and your smile drops as you meet Christen’s eyes as he leans against his hand against the door frame, causing him to loom over you. “Wow, for a second there, I thought you were happy to see me, baby.” 
The name baby on Christen’s lips makes you feel queasy as you take a step back and he takes it as an invitation to take a step into your house, kicking the door closed behind him. “I—I’m not up to hanging out.” 
Scoffing, Christen tilts his head at you and glances around your house as if looking for someone else before his eyes land on you once again. “Why the fuck not? Cause I’m not Chwe?” Christen watches your reaction—how you almost recoil at Vernon’s last name. That was all he needed to know, as if he didn’t know that the fucker had been at your house last night. “What the hell are you doing, Y/N? Did—” Disgust creeps along Christen’s face as he gives you a once-over, searching for something unseen. “Did he—did that pervert touch you?” 
You open your mouth to defend yourself and Vernon, but nothing comes out. You aren’t sure what to say. It’s none of Christen’s business and yet when he asks you something like that, you are overwhelmed with shame, as if you have done something wrong. The look evident on your face, Christen groans, lifting his hand to run it over his face, taking a step towards you to grab your wrist, pulling you towards him hard.  
“He did. Baby… You gotta tell me.” Pulling your arm in his grasp, you whine, finding his grip too tight—painful. “Did he fuck you? Tell me he didn’t. Tell me you didn’t let that freak inside of you.” 
Tears gather on your eyes as you pull once more at your arm, blinking a few times they slip on to your cheeks. “Let me go. Stop talking about him like that. It’s none—” 
“What the fuck, Y/N!” Christen’s anger makes you stop moving and talking. His grip tightens on your wrist and all you can do is whine his name, more tears rolling down your cheeks. “I didn’t think you were a slut, but I guess that’s what you fuckin’ are. Jesus Christ! Giving it out to anyone who’ll take it, huh?” 
Christen’s words cut deep at your heart and your confidence even as you shake your head trying to defend yourself, knowing he is wrong. You hadn’t done anything wrong. You had slept with one person your entire life and you cared deeply for him. Christen’s problem was that it wasn’t him. He was lashing out—he was trying to make you hate yourself, it was working. 
“Who’s gonna touch you now, Y/N? After you let him fuck you?” Pushing your arm hard back towards you, Christen’s expression doesn’t change when the force of his action causes you to stumble backwards, falling on your ass. “It’s pathetic… You’re pathetic. Just a slut.” 
Sobbing, you wrap your arms around yourself, begging Christen to leave you alone. Sucking his teeth, the man you had once called your friend tilts his head and stares at you for a moment longer before turning back towards your front door, leaving you alone once again by slamming your door. The sound of the windows rattling from the force of the door shutting makes you jump, a small shrill scream escaping your lips before you lay on your side, pulling your legs up towards your stomach and letting the tears fall freely.
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Gritting his teeth, Vernon uses the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead as he kneels next to his car with a bucket and rag. He had been trying to clean the red spray paint from his black car for over an hour and he had barely made a dent. It was a hot day and the morning sun had only served to bake the paint into the clear coat of his Beretta. 
Vernon didn’t cry, but as he leaned into his driver-side door panel with all the strength he could muster, he could feel the pressure behind his eyes. This was bullshit. He hadn’t done anything wrong to Christen. You hadn’t done a fucking thing wrong to anyone, and yet this small dick son of a bitch was lashing out like a child, going after the only other thing that Vernon loved. 
The part of town that Vernon lived in wasn’t like yours or honestly, even his closest friends. Most people avoided it because of the lack of amenities and not many people wanted to be seen in the low-income section of such a well-respected little town. Vernon was used to the sound of engines revving; there were always beater cars that sounded like they were on their last legs going up and down his street so when someone seemed like they were late to an appointment, Vernon didn’t give it a second thought. He kept his eyes forward, his brows tightly furrowed as he grumbled. 
Rolling his neck from side to side, Christen leaves his car door open and keeps his eye on the prize—Vernon Chwe with his head close to his stupid ass car as he scraped the truth written from it. He was surprised that he hadn’t heard him pull up; he hadn’t been subtle. Christen had left your house and hauled ass to get to this trailer park trash part of town and to take care of this. 
Pain runs through Vernon’s face and head when he meets the side of his car with a loud thud. He can hear a muffled voice through the pain and ringing in his ears; it only becomes clearer when a boot meets his ribs, knocking the air from his lungs. “Stupid fucking freak. Couldn’t keep your hands off what doesn’t belong to you? I’ll fucking kill you.” 
Blinking up at Christen, Vernon groans in pain, his hands grabbing for the foot that kept meeting his bruised torso in an attempt to stop the blows. Christen was furious, but so was Vernon. Anger had already been rushing through his veins and now his adrenaline was in overdrive. “Get the fuck off’a me!” 
Vernon twists Christen’s foot hard, bringing the other man down to the ground with a loud, painful groan. Both try to make the next move, but Vernon is a second fast, letting him get in the first punch across Christen’s face. “You piece of shit! I was willin’ to let this go.” Vernon wasn’t lying; he had you. He had woken up and felt the best he had in a year. For the briefest of moments, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought about him, but as he felt Christen struggle under him, he knew he’d never know that peace with you again—not while he was breathing. 
Laughing, blood on his lips from Vernon’s fist making contact, Christen uses his fingers to dig into Vernon’s forearm muscle as he pushes against him. “I ain’t letting anything go, you perv. Thinkin’ you are high and mighty now that you got some pussy. ‘Specially some that don’t belong to you!” 
He was still laying claim to you. Not even Vernon would claim that you belonged to him after being with you. There was something about how Christen was talking about you, like you were an object, that made him bite through the pain of his grip long enough for him to get his footing. “She doesn’t belong to you! She hates you; don’t you fuckin’ get that, Christen?” 
That was more than Christen could stand to hear. He could manage a few weeks of letting you sit in your mistake, washing the freak off of you before he would touch you—but the idea that you hated him? That was insane; no one hated him. Except maybe Vernon, but that feeling was mutual. 
“She worships me, Vernon. Always fucking has.” Eyes like daggers follow Vernon as he stumbles backwards into his garage as Christen moves to his feet with a low groan. They were both exhausted, bruised, and bleeding—but this wasn’t over. Following Vernon, Christen points towards him as he wipes blood from his lips with his other hand. “Just cause you got her to put it out like a slut one time doesn’t mean a damn thing. You’re gonna pay for that and then you’re gonna get your ass out of her life.” 
A slut. That was enough to make Vernon scoff into a laugh, his hand steadying him on an open drawer of his tool chest. You weren’t a slut; you were the furthest thing a person could be from something like that. The fact that Christen of all people was calling you told Vernon everything he needed to know—he didn’t care about you at all. Christen had never cared about you, and if he didn’t care about you, then he didn’t matter. 
“Did you fucking hear me, freak?” 
Vernon takes a sharp breath, his fingers wrapping around the handle of the knife as his eyes follow Christen’s broad steps towards him. Without a second thought, Vernon sinks the knife into Christen’s stomach, watching the smug look on his face slowly fade away into confusion and then horror. 
Blood seeps around his hand as Vernon digs his free hand into Christen’s shoulder, preventing him from taking a step back until he allows it. Looking down at the knife, Venon feels his lips pull up in a slight smirk when Christen gasps in pain. 
“Vernon…” 
Vernon wasn’t sure he had ever heard Christen sound so pathetic and weak before as he pulled the knife from him, meeting his eyes. “I heard you. Can you hear this?” Christen gasps, a choking sound bubbling in his throat as blood seeps around his mouth when Vernon stabs the knife back into his stomach, deeper. The others Vernon had kept at a distance. He hadn't gotten his hands too dirty, but he would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit he was enjoying watching the life drain out of Christen’s face. 
Wiping his hands, Vernon takes a deep breath, nodding at how much progress he had made on his car. Unless you knew what you were looking for, you couldn’t see where the words had been painted anymore, and if you looked in the garage, the only thing that would have told you that anything bad had happened was the smell of bleach. 
Vernon tosses the rag on to the table before putting a cigarette between his lips and looking at the back of Christen’s car. He wanted to get back to you. He had been gone for too long after promising he just had a couple things to do—of course that had been before some unexpected hiccups—but Vernon meant to keep his promise. 
Closing the truck, not giving a second look to the body rolled up in a tarp inside of it, Vernon lets out a deep breath of smoke before sliding behind the wheel of Christen’s car, feeling a wave of anxiety lifting off of him as he pushes his foot down on the gas. It was a nice car. He could tell that a lot of money had gone into keeping it up. For a second, Vernon pictures a time when he and Christen could have had a normal ass conversation about cars, but that’s short lived as he turns onto the secluded road leading to the lake. 
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“Sweetie, are you sure you don’t want to go to the cemetery?” 
Sitting in the backseat of your father’s car, you shake your head, refusing to look up at either of them. You didn’t want to look your parents in the eye and tell them that you didn’t care enough to go to the cemetery and watch people cry over Christen for another hour. You had done plenty of that in the church while people had looked at you like you were going to shatter. You weren’t; Christen wasn’t what everyone thought he was to you, but it didn’t matter what you said or thought. 
You father sighs, starting to say something when your mother coos in sympathy. When you do glance up, you wish you hadn’t when you meet Christen’s mother’s eyes. She looked broken, and yet you could tell she was loving the attention that this was bringing her. It was sick. “We are so sorry for your loss—” 
“Y/N, darling… Ride with us in the limousine to the cemetery. It’s what Christen would want. He would want his girlfriend to be with his family, sweetheart. I know you are being modest, but you don’t have to be.” 
Being cut off, your mother shifts her eyes from you and back to the woman in front of you as you look off to the side. She had never seen you this way. You were like a sunflower in the middle of a field of daisies and today it was as if the sun wasn’t rising for you. Thinking back, it had been that way for a while for you; they just hadn’t wanted to see it. 
Shaking your head, you scratch at a bug bite on your arm, your lips rubbing together as you try to think of something nicer to say, but there was nothing you wanted to say that was kind or proper. “If you think that he’d want his girlfriend with his family, perhaps you should ask Caitlin to ride with you.” Avoiding the woman’s eyes, you look at your mother with a pleading look on your face as you reach for her hand and whine. “Mom, please… I just want to go home now.” 
With a grimace on her face, your mother nods at you before meeting Christen’s mother’s eyes and seeing the fire behind them. “She’s exhausted; she hasn’t been herself for days since this happened. Please forgive and excuse us.” 
You knew that not going to Christen’s funeral would be a big deal to some. There would be plenty of talk. There were plenty who—just like his mother—thought you were his girlfriend. They all thought this despite you giving no one—including Christen—any reason to think so. Perhaps there had been a time when you would have done the uncomfortable thing for appearance’s sake, but that girl was just as dead as Christen was. 
Looking out the back passenger’s side window, you had been doing a good job of blocking out most of the conversation until your father’s voice lowered. It only did that when there was something to hide—something important—and now you were listening carefully. “He was brutalized... They’ve put the entire town on curfew. I just—what do we even do? We can’t leave her like this.” 
Your parents were good at talking about you like you weren’t in the same room or car with them. They were good, decent people, but that didn’t make them excellent parents. None of that meant that when your mother had been nineteen years old and knocked up that she had actually wanted to marry your father and have you, and yet here you were—in the car, invisible but looming. 
"Well, we don’t actually have a choice. That school is going to cost more than our damn mortgage.” Glancing into her visor mirror, your mother makes sure you are still watching the side of the road as she tries to keep her voice calm and low. “If she even still wants to go—” 
“She’s going. I’ve put too much goddamn money up for it.” Gripping the steering wheel tightly, your father rolls his neck, feeling annoyance ripple through it. They enjoyed being the parents who went to barbeques and got to say their daughter was going to a notable university in the fall, but deep down your father resented it. You hadn’t played sports or been exceptional at your classes, so there were no scholarships; there was just mommy and daddy’s hard-earned money. 
“Then that means we have to go to Chicago. She’ll understand…” 
They were leaving again. You were used to it. You knew your parents worked hard but you had gotten good at raising yourself once you hit high school. At that age, you were old enough that your parents could take business trips and schmooze their bosses. It was harder to impress the higher-ups from a little desk behind a phone. It paid well to drink and rub elbows with the ones who mattered personally. 
“Y/N… baby?” Furrowing your brows at the sweet shift in the tone of your mother’s voice when she speaks at a volume meant for you to hear. You meet her eyes in the mirror and tilt your head as she gives you a small pout. “I know things have been hard, honey. You’re strong, you know that? My strong girl...” 
You knew what she was trying to do, and while you could appreciate the peptalk, you weren’t in the mood. Looking back towards the side of the road, you sigh, and your mother purses her lips. “There’s a curfew now. Everyone has to be in their houses at dark.” 
“I know, Mom. The sheriff told us at the memorial—” 
“I know he did. You also know that there is someone dangerous still on the loose, but Y/N…” Grimacing at the idea of what she needs to tell you after what she just said, your mother looks towards your father, feeling his hand slide over hers to give her a bit of courage. “You’re an adult now, and we have to trust you because we have a business trip. One that we can’t pass up.” 
You didn’t want or need their excuses so you just nodded along with her words. “Okay, mom. I’ll be alright.” 
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Laying back on his bed, Vernon groans as he looks at the sun starting to set just over the horizon. He hated this curfew bullshit. As if the curfew would keep anything from happening to anyone... As if it would keep him from doing anything if it needed to be done. 
“Vernon, did—are you listening to me?” 
Your voice brings Vernon back to the present; he shifts the receiver on his shoulder and nods. “‘Course I am, baby. I’m just—I’m thinkin’.” 
Walking around your kitchen with the cordless phone against your ear, you sigh softly to Vernon’s words before opening the fridge to see what you could make yourself for dinner. “Yeah? And—so? What do you think? I don’t wanna be here all weekend by myself. Don’t you wanna, maybe... spend some time with me?” 
That’s all Vernon wanted to do. He could hear you moving around in your house, and he could picture himself there with you already. “You know I do. I just—don’t think I’d make it there by curfew. People didn’t wanna leave the matinee and—” Vernon could hear the disappointment in your sigh as you let out a deep breath. “I don’t want you mad at me.” 
Dragging a pan from under the stove, you shake your head and lie to him and yourself as tears collect on the rims of your eyes. “Not mad. I’ll be fine. I’m gonna cook something and watch TV. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” 
Vernon runs his hand over his face, a soft groan escaping his lips when you want to get off the phone with him. He knew you were lying. You might not be mad at him, but you weren’t thrilled either. After everything had happened with Christen, Vernon had taken a step back while still trying to be close. It was a strange feeling, trying to keep you safe without being so close that he was the issue. He wasn’t sure if someone would link him to something or not; he was smart and he had covered his bases, but he wanted to be sure before he got too close to you again. Yet now, hearing your soft breaths and knowing you were about to cry, Vernon knew he couldn’t keep it up. 
“No… I’ll be over soon. Let me pack a couple things and I’ll figure it out. I’ll—” Scoffing into a laugh, Vernon slides off his bed and towards his desk as he rubs the back of his neck. “Try not to get arrested on my way over.” 
You knew you should feel bad for pressuring Vernon into coming over, especially with how close it was to the curfew. There was probably less than ten minutes before it would go into effect, and his house was at least twenty minutes away on a good day. “Please don’t get arrested, and be safe. I—” Unspoken words had become part of yours and Vernon’s routine. You knew what you wanted to say—what you felt, but it all still seemed too early. 
Swallowing hard, Vernon closes his eyes and imagines the two other words leaving your mouth before he sighs. “I’ll be alright. See you soon.” 
Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel out of nerves, Vernon watches every corner and dark area as he drives to your house. There were a few others out, but he watched them quickly pull into driveways and usher children or spouses inside their houses. He wasn’t so worried about them as he was about the possibility of a cop lingering around the next street. 
When your house comes into view, he finally breathes out a sigh of relief, pulling his car into your driveway and glancing at the houses closest to you. Everything was so quiet on your street. If there was anyone at your neighbor’s house, Vernon couldn’t tell. The house was completely dark and there were no cars in the driveway—the same went for the house across the street. Your house was like a lighthouse at a port. 
Pulling his bookbag over his shoulder, Vernon groans a bit at the soreness in his muscles. He was still bruised heavily; that had been another reason he had been avoiding you. He didn’t want you to see that he was hurt, and he didn’t want you to worry about something you couldn’t fix. He had already fixed it. 
Nerves roll through Vernon as he moves towards your front door and lifts his hand to knock. He just wanted to get inside and away from the street. He knew that if he got caught even outside of the house after curfew, the cops would have questions and he didn’t have all the right answers. Waiting a full minute, Vernon shifts uncomfortably and knocks again when he hears a loud crash from inside your house and raised voices. Something was wrong, and he wasn’t going to wait any more. 
“You don’t even fucking care! You didn’t go to the funeral, Y/N. You’re such a selfish bitch.” 
Staring at the broken glass of your mother’s vase on the hardwood floor, you shake your head as Caitlin’s voice breaks. You had been surprised when someone had knocked on your door earlier than expected. You thought that maybe Vernon had driven a bit too fast to make better time, but then you had been sorely mistaken when Caitlin had pushed her way past you and into your house wanting answers. 
“This is crazy. You need to calm down—” 
“Don’t you tell me to calm down! I’m so tired of being told to calm down.” Pacing in your kitchen, Caitlin laughs, the laugh causing a chill to run down your spine. It isn’t a sound you had ever heard your best friend make before because the laugh isn’t one of humor. It’s dark. “You never cared about him. That’s the fucked-up part. I loved him—like really loved him, and he wanted you!” 
Picking up a bowl from the kitchen island, Caitlin doesn’t even think before she throws it towards you, narrowly missing your head as you duck, letting it hit the wall instead. Ceramic shatters behind you as you scream her name, begging her to stop. “It’s not my fault! I didn’t—please? Stop this…” 
Vernon narrows his eyes as he moves down the dark hall towards the kitchen, just as Caitlin screams at you again. He had heard you scream and beg her to stop; he had heard more things breaking—all he wanted to do was get her away from you. 
“It is your fault! He was murdered, you bitch!” Moving towards you quickly, Caitlin lunges at you, barely missing you as you push past her and back towards the pot boiling on the stove with tears streaming down your face. With tears streaking her own face, Caitling straightens her back and wipes hard at her cheeks as she stares at you with disdain. “I think you did it or you know who did. Shit like this doesn’t happen here, Y/N! Christen wouldn’t let someone close enough to him—to do that to him. So… I think you did it and I’m—” 
Gritting his teeth hard, Vernon watches Caitlin’s eyes move to the knife on the counter before her hand does the same. Panic rushes through him as he tries to think of what to do next, knowing whatever she is going to do can’t happen. 
Your back pushed up against the stove; you feel the hot steam against your back as you sidestep towards the fridge looking for a way out. You search for a way to get away from Caitlin as you watch her weigh the weight of the knife in her hand before she looks back at you and then her face contorts with even more hatred. “Please... Put it down, Caitlin. You’re my best friend. Don’t do this.” 
Caitlin was barely looking at you now as Vernon stepped out of the hall and into the kitchen behind you, his eyes fixed on her. Now it all made sense. All the pieces were clicking in her mind and she was right. She didn’t need some dumbass cop to solve a murder when she was looking at the murderers right now. “You did it, didn’t you freak?” 
Shaking your head, you take a step back, jumping when you feel a warm hand on your shoulder. Glancing up at Vernon quickly, you look back at Caitlin to keep your eyes on her and the knife. “Caitlin—” 
“Shut the fuck up, Y/N! Are you blind? You know how much he hates us.” 
Vernon just sighs, his hand sliding along your arm as he tries to move you behind him and out of the way of danger, even if it means putting himself in the line of it. Caitlin laughs as she watches, the knife pointed in your direction, the tip falling slightly forward in her amusement at the sight and the look in your eyes. She wasn’t an idiot; she was the smartest person in the fucking room and she knew you were in love with the fucking loser standing in front of you. All the pieces fit together like one big fucked-up puzzle. 
“Oh, I’m sorry... How much he hates me. How much he hated Christen... He clearly doesn’t hate you and you are in love with the person who killed your friend.” Making a face, Caitlin looks like she’s going to be sick, her fingers tightening on the handle of the knife. “God, I can’t even look at you. You let him do it?” 
Shaking your head, you try to push past Vernon, feeling defensive of him when Caitlin tries to blame him for murder. It wasn’t that you hadn’t even considered it yourself in times of weakness—you wouldn’t even have blamed him���you just didn’t want her doing it. “Shut up! You don’t know anything, Caitlin! He hasn’t done anything wrong; it’s always been you!” 
Trying to keep a grip on your arm, Vernon says your name and winces when you accidentally push back against his ribs. Everything happens so quickly in front of him that even though he tries to be the first one to act, he watches it like a movie in front of him. 
Caitlin screams in anger, finally letting go of all of it that had been boiling in her blood as she sees red and storms forward with the knife. Her intention and eyes set on Vernon; she finds herself surprised and annoyed when your hand grabs her wrist, keeping it back from the man. Of course you would stop her; she had been so close—but at this point, in her mind, it was two birds, one stone. 
“Stupid bitch!” Caitling’s shrill voice cuts into your ears just as much as the knife as she slashes at your arms, the two of you falling on to the kitchen floor. The only thing you want to do is get the knife away from her—keep her from making anymore mistakes, but when you feel pain followed by warmth spreading along your stomach, your blood run’s cold. 
“Fuck… Fuck!” Pulling on Cailtin’s arm, Vernon panics when he hears the sound of a choking gurgling—the sound of someone swallowing their own blood. From where he is standing, all he can see at first is blood on the white tiles, and the last person with the knife in their hand had been Caitlin. With his heart in his throat, Vernon whispers your name like a prayer as he separates you from Caitlin, and his eyes fall to the knife, and your chest rises and falls in panic. 
Meeting Vernon’s eyes, you quickly look down at your hand and the blood running along your fingers before seeing the knife buried deep in Caitlin’s stomach near her ribs. “No… no, no, no!” Sobs fall from your lips as Vernon pulls you back against him, his arm wrapping around your waist as tears fall along your cheeks. 
He knew you were upset; you were panicking, but Vernon kept his head. Turning your arms over in his hands, he shakes his head and whines your name, seeing the cuts and deep gash near your wrist. “Baby… shh. Listen—stop! Listen to me.” Vernon didn’t want to yell at you, but you had started to struggle against him, your eyes moving over Caitlin’s lifeless body as blood seeped from her mouth and you wanted to do something to change it. “We— It’s time to go. We are going to wrap your arm and then…” 
Shaking your head, you sob his name, feeling him turn you in his arms as he reaches for a dishcloth, wrapping it around your wrist tightly. “Yes, Y/N. You did nothing wrong. It was self-defense, baby... But they won’t give a fuck, so—baby girl, we gotta go.” Holding your cheeks between his hands, Vernon meets your eyes, and tears run over his fingers as you try to understand what he’s telling you. “We are leaving.” 
It takes half an hour for you to pack a bag and to be settled in Vernon’s passenger’s seat. You try to make heads or tails about what is happening, what’s real, and what has to be a dream as you both sit in the darkness of the garage across the street, waiting for the right time. 
You had insisted on calling the cops. Vernon had wanted to leave right away, but you didn’t want to leave Cailtin alone in your kitchen like that. So now you were stuck watching as three police cars slammed on their breaks in front of your house, and each cop held their gun at the ready as they entered. 
When the call had been made, you had been crying, saying you and your boyfriend were hurt and that your friend had been hurt too. They asked if the person who had hurt you was still in the house and without needing to lie, you had looked at Caitlin and said yes. Vernon had watched you carefully, waiting for the right moment before he grabbed the phone out of your hands and threw it against the wall hard enough for it to break. He was smart, you realized then. You also realized you didn’t know him as well as you thought—there was a lot you needed to learn about the person you were now on the run with. 
“They found her.” Sighing, Vernon leans his head back as one of the cops comes out of the house with his hand over his mouth. Small town cops weren’t used to this much death; Vernon almost felt bad for him. “We can wait until they get the ambulance out here and day breaks—then we go.” 
Closing your eyes, you nod, feeling fresh tears rolling down your cheeks. This was the only place you knew, the only life you knew and it had just been taken from you so quickly. Fingers wrap around yours, and Vernon’s lips brush over your knuckles as he furrows his brows, watching you closely. You were falling apart, but he wasn’t going to lose any of the pieces. He’d put you back together, no matter how long it took and no matter how far he had to take you away from here to do it. 
“Me and you, Y/N, okay?” Meeting Vernon’s eyes, you nod again, seeing his lips pull up slightly as he kisses your knuckles. Silence is almost deafening in the car, as you watch red and blue lights move across Vernon’s face, his eyes searching yours before he finally speaks again. “I love you.” 
READ THE BONUS ON PATREON
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literaryvein-reblogs · 2 months ago
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Writing Notes: Anatomy of Letterforms
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Aperture—the opening of a not entirely closed, somewhat rounded space within a character (such as in ‘c’).
Apex—the topmost intersection where two strokes terminate.
Arc—a curved portion of a stroke.
Arm—a horizontal or upward stroke that does not connect with a stem on at least one end.
Ascender—portion of the lowercase that rises above the x-height.
Axis—the imaginary line bisecting the upper- and lowermost points where a stroke becomes thinnest.
Baseline—the line on which the letters of a font seem to rest.
Beak—a serif-like terminal in some serif type designs.
Bowl—the curved part of a letter surrounding a counter.
Bracket—a curved or wedge-like connection between a serif and the main stroke.
Cap height—the distance from the baseline to the top of the uppercase letters.
Character—a symbol with a unique linguistic meaning, such as a letter, number, punctuation mark, etc.
Counter—the typically rounded negative space partially or fully enclosed by part of a letter.
Crossbar—a horizontal stroke bridging two other strokes.
Cross stroke—a typically horizontal stroke crossing the stem of the lowercase ‘t’ or ‘f’.
Crotch—the inner angle where two strokes connect.
Descender—portion of the lowercase which extends below the baseline.
Finial—the tapered terminal of a curved stroke.
Foot—the end of a stem or stroke resting on the baseline.
Gadzook—a decorative detail connecting the letters in a ligature but is not a stroke essential to either letter.
Glyph—a unique drawing of a character or characters as a single unit. (For instance, a single character may have more than one glyph, like the y’s below. Or there may be multiple characters in a single glyph, as in a ligature.)
Ink trap—additional space added where two strokes form an acute angle, done to avoid ink build-up in that spot when the character is printed. It’s a space designed to literally trap excess ink.
Joint—the place where a stroke joins a stem.
Leg—the short, often diagonal, downstroke of letters like ‘R’, ‘K’ and ‘k’, typically resting on the baseline.
Lobe—a curved or rounded projection from the stem or main portion of the letter.
Loop—the bowl below the baseline on a double story lowercase ‘g’.
Neck—also known as a collar or link, the stroke that connects the top and bottom portions of a lowercase ‘g’.
Overshoot—portion of a letter pushing just beyond a line of measurement to achieve the appearance of being the same height as comparable letters.
Sans serif—without serifs.
Serif—a small stroke added to the end of a main stroke.
Shoulder—the curve at the beginning of a downward stroke, such as in ‘m’, ‘n’, or ‘h’.
Spine—the primary curved stroke of the letter ‘S’ or ‘s’.
Spur—a small protrusion off a main stroke.
Stem—the main, typically vertical, stroke of a glyph.
Stroke—a line forming part of a written or printed character.
Swash—an addition at the end of a stroke intended to beautify or add other visual interest to a glyph beyond what is necessary to define a character.
Tail—the descending, often decorative, stroke of the ‘Q’, and sometimes ‘R’ or ‘K’.
Tittle—the dot on the ‘i’ or ‘j’.
Vertex—the bottommost intersection where two strokes terminate.
X-height—the height of the lowercase without ascenders or descenders, usually typified by the height of the letter ‘x’.
Terminal—the end of a stroke:
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Abrupt—the stroke ends without taper or embellishment.
Ball—the stroke finishes with a circular shape.
Calligraphic—the stroke finish gives a strong indication of the shape of the writing instrument used to form the letter.
Foxtail—the end of the stoke widens before curving around and ending in a point, similar to the shape of a fox’s tail.
Lachrymal or Teardrop—the stroke finishes in a teardrop shape.
Wedge—the stroke has a serif-like wedge added to it.
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Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs
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prettyboykatsuki-moved · 9 months ago
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brocon | a. oliver
✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader, unrequited love (from reader but not to oliver), presence of honorfics (nii-san mostly), incest (incestual roleplay and one sided incestual affection lol), oliver is not the older brother but he wishes he was, Too Casual About Incest in this one, oral (m!recieving), mentions of cervix fucking + deepthroating, cream pies, casual sex, 18+
✮ wc ; 2.5k
✮ a/n ; im reading too many doujinshis. everyday i become a little more insane. i miss you all. i also hate this guy.
c. consider this like a prelude by the way. im definitely going to expand on this universe rip.
also im dead fucking tired so tenses are all over the place. im gonna skip class tomorrow i think lol
✮ synopsis ; oliver is not put off by your brother complex. he probably should be.
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Oliver isn’t very meddlesome.  
He’s a captain, but that’s as far as he’s ever willing to extend himself when it comes to getting deeply involved with other people. He loves soccer, loves strikers, etc. Annoying shit is tolerable if it’s for the love of the game.  
So in terms of his willingness to interfere, it starts and stops at soccer.  
The same is not true for relationships. Never has been really. He isn’t sure if he’s always been like that. He got his heart broken in high school, before his career took off and get much time to think about what he wanted after.  
He’ll never claim to be paragon of morality. Whether or not he’s pre-disposed for it, he’s been around the block and doesn’t take anything too seriously. A lot of what he’s down for just depends on where he’s at and he stands to gain. 
But, he’s always been straightforward about it so whatever.  
 From experience, he prefers dating women with a lot to lose - career driven types. Long term, they’re the easiest to break up with because they rarely chase after him and have little desire for the spotlight. He likes cute, innocent types too, for different reasons - but it can get messy easily so he has to be off season  to fuck them or date. His type in men depends on what he’s feeling. He likes getting topped by quiet, stoic men and likes topping slutty pretty boys. 
Case and point, Olivers type is whoever wants to fuck him and he wants to fuck too. It’s not complicated and isn’t defined by any particular thing. When it comes to appearance and personality - well he’s fine with whatever. He’s not really interested in being exclusive. He likes to have fun and like freely, or something like that.  
His only real criteria for sex and partnership are: discreet, sane, want to fuck him.  
You fit one of those parameters for sure.  You’re very discreet.  
But while you and Oliver are sleeping together, it’s not him you actually want.  
Oliver  met you a few months back. You were by yourself in the bar of a nice motel and dressed to the nines, crying alone over a drink. The game plan was simple. He would chat you up, console you, and bring you to bed. You both get to feel good, and you get to forget for a while.  
An attempted act of kindness and sincerity.  
He did just that too. Slid up next to you easy, bought you a drink. You were mostly sober - told him you had to drive early the next day. Alcohol was just to soothe your broken heart. You broke down after that. Red-rimmed watery eyes, barely keeping it together - it didn’t take much effort for Oliver to get you to open up. Apparently someone you loved had just got married. You even gave a speech for the wedding. Sobbed a little about how you’re happy he’s happy but you’re devastated.  
Oliver offered you a shoulder to cry on. Whispered in your ear real sweet about licking each others wounds for the night. How he’d be happy to help you forget. You went back to your hotel with little fuss. And he’s a half decent bastard after all, so he didn’t go too hard on you during the sex. Gave you boyfriend treatment as a consolation prize for your efforts. Foreheads pressed together, arms around his shoulders, lots of kissing and making eye contact.  
That kind of sex is fun sometimes, at least when it’s not very serious.  
You had great compatibility in bed. Some post coital pillow talk also revealed that your mutual interests meshed pretty well  - so you decided to see each other again for the purposes of fucking. Oliver needs a reliable partner who won’t try to ruin his career and you need a shoulder to lean on and forget about your true love.  
It was working out well for him really. And like he said, he’s not really the type to pry into other peoples affairs.  
For better or for worse though, having frequent sex with someone usually gets you acquainted with random aspects of their life. The friends parts of friends with benefits usually means you’re seeing some part of them you didn’t sign up for.  
It took three months of sleeping with you, around the 8th time you met up for sex, for him to realize who your unrequited love actually was.  
He thought it might’ve been someone off limits from the way you spoke about it. Though you tended to avoid the subject altogether.  
Had he known he was going to get involved with a girl that has the worst brother complex he’s ever seen, he would’ve reconsidered seeing you again.  
Maybe. Or maybe not.  
Truthfully, Oliver is less bothered by brocon thing than he thought he’d be. He hadn’t realized because of anything you told him. Just that once, you were laying on his chest when you got a call in the middle of the night from your older brother. 
You’re not the sweet type, to put it bluntly. Oliver would categorize you as the working professional sort with a lot to lose - high spec and calculating. Aside from the night he met you, he’d never seen you act in a way he would consider needy or childish - even after sex. Or ever, really - even when something happens that might garner that response.  
Seeing the way your eyes lit up, the way your whole demeanor changed as you spoke with him on the phone. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. He didn’t have plans to confront you about it at the time. It wasn’t really his business, or at least that’s what he told himself. 
At a certain point though, he felt like he couldn’t dance around it.  
He brought it up on a whim one night. Regretted it because he liked your current relationship and didn’t want it to end, but he felt it had to be done.  
He doesn’t know what exactly he was expecting, if anything at all. He thought you’d cuss him out or something. Tell him to fuck off and mind his business. Tell him to not be gross, maybe.  
But he didn’t expect tears, nor did he expect the childish sadness that came along with the mere mention of you beloved nii-san.  
That had made him wanna pry.  
It wasn’t hard to get you to open up about it. Frankly, he didn’t actually give a shit about the incest part, so you felt safe enough to tell him when he asked. Your older brother was basically your whole life. You’re half siblings, abandoned by the same parent. You had a rough upbringing but your older brother took care of you and sacrificed a lot. You realized you were in love with him in middle school and kept it in since. He’s about four years older than you and his wife is a very gentle person.  
Oliver isn’t concerned about the details. He’s nosy - so he asks but he wouldn’t’ve forced you if you didn’t want to talk about it. But it seems like you really did, since you were happy to tell him anything on your mind.  
You were…different after that. After he knew, you relaxed considerably. He didn’t think of you as guarded until you stopped being that way and started acting more… docile.  
Oliver doesn’t mind that change either, which is shocking for him. Usually you’re far off but after you cum, you soften up and act kind of… cute.  
 You’re a little clingier, and generally speaking - sweeter to him when you’re guard is down. It’s not like you’re doing it on purpose. You never ask Oliver to treat you any softer or get demanding with him. And there’s never an instance where he has to worry about if that’ll change because as nice as you are to him, it’s clear as day that no one in the world will ever surpass your affection for your older brother.  
(Once, after sex,  Oliver asks you what you like about about your older brother. The question comes as a shock to you both, but mostly to him because he isn’t sure why he thinks to ask. You’re happy enough to answer it though. According to you, he’s perfect.  
He’s kind and thoughtful, gentle and doting, tall, strong and handsome. You’ve got little hearts in your eyes when you say all this. You add towards the end that part of the reason you sleep with Oliver is because they’re so different you can forget all about it.  
He laughs at that, but he isn’t sure how sincere it is.) 
As time goes by, Oliver never gets  totally used to the change. As soon as you get a call or text from your beloved nii-san, you perk up like all the life has been breathed back into you. He hears you talk sometimes and it’s clear that your brother also probably has a bit of a sister complex.  
 You’re more open around Oliver sure - but it pales in comparison to when you get a call from him. How could a person be so different? He assumes the answer is love, but he can’t wrap his head around it having that much impact on your character.  
Oliver tries not to think about it.  
You’ve continued sleeping together out of habit and as time went  by  - you started to hang out for no real reason. It’s remained casual. You never want anything from him except dick and sometimes attention, but its clear that it isn’t from the one sided hope of becoming his girlfriend. And he knows almost too well that you don’t care for him in a special way because he knows what that looks like on you - and every kindness you’ve shown him is just who you are.  
It’s not like Oliver isn’t keenly aware of all of that.  
But it doesn’t stick until he offers up roleplaying with you on a whim.  
He suggests it to fuck with you really. And maybe because he’s a little irritated by it. He wants to upset you a little, petty as it is. See how you react. He was expecting you to get pissed off, maybe even cuss him out a little over being a jerk.  
That is not the reaction he receives. Instead you flush all over. Your hands fist on your knees and you get shy over just the prospect. He’s had you bent in every position known to man but he’s never seen you more embarrassed then the very idea of uttering the name nii-san in relation to sex.  
You do have a moment of sobriety after the fact, hit him with your pillow and tell him not to be a dick.  
But then, he can’t let it go. So he grabs you by the wrist and says it’s fine. It’s what he’s here for isn’t he? Always has been.  
Only seeing it does it start to really click.  
It’s the most intense sex you’ve ever had , and it doesn’t feel  profoundly fucked up until you take his dick  into your mouth. Hearts in your eyes while he strokes your hair, swallowing his cock - nuzzling it, kissing, it and being so devoted he doesn’t know if he’s the most unlucky man alive or the least.  
You’re always a sight for sore eyes when you’re hoping to please him somehow. You’re a little haughty in bed in a way he’s into— 
But fuck, it’s different when you’re doing it for your big brother. He’s never seen you so horny in his life. Touching yourself so desperately while you’re deepthroating his length, eyes rolling back into your skull as you swallow him all the down to the base. Moaning into it even as you gag and hiccup and spit.. Drool clinging to your lips, stretched all the way to the corners  - wetness sliding down the curve of your neck and chest. Your face flush, damp tears clinging to your lashes while he strokes his thumb against your cheek and tells you the same few words over and over.  
Nii-san’s so proud of you. You’re being so good for your me. Over and over, reinforcing it again and again. Hearing the words and just thinking of it seem to be enough for you.  
It’s about the same when he does finally fucks you. Oliver gets into it at the end. Puts you in a full nelson and fucks you stupid, the head of his cock battering into you and demanding to be let in. You feel good split apart on his dick - pussy stretched so tight it barely fits him.  
You always do your best to take him, but he sees what the affection does to you. You get so horny that you spread your legs without being fucked open on his fingers first. Your body is responsive to it. He almost feels bad for your brother, not getting to know what it feels like. Oliver is only playing pretending but your cunt squeezes his dick so tight, holds onto him like  it doesn’t want to let go. It’s not even the real thing yet your body is keen on milking him. Built and bred like it was made for your older brother to fuck.  
He’ll never get the chance too. Oliver relishes in it more than he can be honest about.  
Once he’s inside, you tell Oliver in a lust drunk haze that nii-san can have whatever he wants. That’s when he knows you’re running on nothing but lust. And by then, he is too. You whimper when he moves - say yes when he hisses that he’s gonna fuck you deep enough to flood your cervix. Nod desperately when he offers to fuck your cervix open too.  
It’s nothing but filthy bullshit but the words come out easier as his cock keeps slipping out of you from how wet you are over the thought alone.  
It finally settles in when when you’ve nearly fucked yourself unconscious. Riding his cock with your tshirt pulled up over your tits, eyes closed and legs wobbling - saying it over and over. Begging for your brother who you love so dearly while you  fuck on him with all the strength in your hips.  
Seeing that makes him realize that he’s not a stand-in.  
Only because it’s an impossible outcome in the first place.  
It’s the first time he cums inside of you, and the first time you cry after sex. Oliver holds you afterwards. You whisper a thank you so sincere to him afterwards he loses his fucking mind, all soft and watery and needy. Don’t protest when he pulls you into a bath or holds you.  
You stay with him through the night and he realizes right about then that he’s completely and utterly fucked. 
It’s his karma, he assumes. Wanting a girl who has a severe brother complex is Oliver’s own special hell - hand crafted to make him feel as fucked up as possible.  
But damn does he want you bad anyway.  
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princessmisery666 · 19 days ago
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Love You A Little Bit
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Summary: Jake Seresin doesn’t say ‘I love you’ easily, but he lives it.
Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff.
W/C: 808
Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
Notes: inspired by Love You A Little Bit by Tanner Adell.
Beta(s): @deanwinchesterswitch - and as always she saved me from myself. Any mistakes belong to me.
Graphics: divider made by @writercole // title card made by me.
Master Lists: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin // Main
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Jake Seresin has a way of making you crazy.
Not the painful kind of crazy, not the stormy uncertainty of guessing where you stand or doubting if his heart is in it. No, Jake drives you the other kind of crazy, the dizzy, giddy, off-balance kind. The kind where one wink from across the tarmac can short-circuit your brain. The kind where he steals your oversized hoodie, wears it around base like a trophy, and somehow makes you smile even as you threaten to punch him because when you ask for it back, he just smirks and claims he lost it.
It’s silly. It’s maddening. It’s warm and loud and bright. It feels like being seventeen again, like falling in love for the first time with someone who makes every day feel fresh and brand new.
“You left this in my truck,” Jake says, sliding up beside you at the Hard Deck, holding up the hoodie like he’s presenting a lost puppy.
“Sure you didn’t steal it again?”
He grins but sounds serious. “I’d never.”
With a scoff, you take it from him and toss it over your shoulder. “You lie with a straight face way too easily.”
“That’s Navy training, sweetheart,” he says. “Also, don’t act like you didn’t leave it on purpose. Felt like you were hugging me all day, and my truck smells like you now.”
Your cheeks warm, but you give him your best deadpan look. “You’re lucky I like you.”
Making your way over to the group, Jake falls in step beside you, smugly proclaiming, “Oh, I’m very lucky,” but the way his fingers brush your hand as you walk is anything but smug.
The truth is, Jake Seresin doesn’t say ‘I love you’ easily, but he lives it. He loves hard and shows it in his own ridiculous, obnoxiously endearing, unexpected way. He leaves notes in your locker with dumb pickup lines - “Are you a no-fly zone? Because I’d risk it anyway.” He buys you coffee after your early flights. On warm Friday nights, parked up at your spot overlooking the water, he taps the beat of whatever country song is playing on the steering wheel, then turns and sings like every lyric is written about you and he means every word.
And yeah, he drives you a little bit insane.
Just like earlier that day, he flew too close during a training exercise just to make you laugh. You were ready to chew him out when he landed, but then he pulled off his helmet, hair all tousled, sporting that damn cocky smile.
“Admit it,” he’d said, voice low and teasing. “That was hot.”
While you didn't deny it, you most definitely did not admit to it.
Setting the hoodie over the back of a chair, Jake bumps his shoulder gently against yours. “Wanna dance?”
You give him a side-eye glance. “Trying to distract me from the fact you challenged me to a game of pool?”
“I’ll let you win for a weekif you dance with me,” He promises, extending his hand.
Brow arched, you challenge him. “Let me win. Since when do...”
Jake prevents you from finishing the retort with a firm and sudden kiss that melts into soft and passionate. His fingertips run down your arm, a soft caress that leaves goosebumps in its wake. He laces your fingers with his and pulls back. “Dance with me.”
The song on the jukebox changes as he leads you onto the middle of the floor, something slow, threaded with a guitar, that matches the sway of the waves outside.
Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls you close while your arms loop around his neck. The two of you fit together like jigsaw pieces.
His soft lips close to your ear, his warm breath tickles when he murmurs your name.
“Hmm,” you reply, lost in the movement of your bodies pressed together.
“I think I kinda, might, sorta... love you a little bit,” he whispers.
It isn’t picture perfect. A regular Tuesday, dim lights and jukebox static, nothing special. Still, you never know when the moment will become the moment until you’re right in the middle of it.
You smile, making sure he can feel it against his cheek. “Just a little?”
“Well...” Jake leans back to look at you, deep green eyes, warm and steady, filled with a tenderness that makes your breath catch. “...a little more than that.”
Heart fluttering, you take a deep breath to keep it from skipping a beat or two and whisper, “I love you,” and press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Kinda, sorta, like just a little bit more than that, too.”
Jake Seresin is a lot of things, reckless, relentless, ridiculously charming, and cocky, but when he loves, he loves with whole damn heart and he's given it to you.
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Master Lists: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin // Main
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nataliasquote · 2 months ago
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Honesty | n romanoff
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beep beep bitch
summary: College. A horrendous prospect for any graduating high school student. But it's not so bad when you're going with your best friend... who's going to be your roommate. Plus, Kaia and Yelena have been inseparable since 5th grade. This seems like the perfect scenario. But Natasha Romanoff doesn't agree. As a junior in college, the thought of having her little sister and best friend coming to terrorise her life and ruin the reputation that she had built up so well... it made her feel sick. It's fine. She could just avoid them... right?
pairings: enemies-to-…, (nat, O!C)…
wc: 4.4k
note: if you’ve read this before, you’re a real one. i’m bringing it onto tumblr to motivate me to update, and with all the yelena hype rn, I thought we could all do with some bestfriend!yelena content… :) nat appears more in the next few chapters, don’t worry :))
-⧗-
The classic ringing of an incoming facetime call sounded through the speakers of a MacBook, which made a rather exhausted 18 year old leap up from her sprawled out place on her bed. She threw herself onto her spinning desk chair, which spun a bit too far, meaning she had to grab the edge of her desk and haul herself back around before she fell off.
She lifted the lid and quickly typed in her password as an excited face filled the screen, their voice far too loud as the volume had been left turned all the way up from last night's dance session. Dark curly hair swung against her back as the girl winced at her friend's squeal.
"Have you looked?" The blonde girl screeched, far too close to the camera to create a flattering angle.
"Lena, it's 8am. It's a miracle I'm awake at this point." Kaiiarina groaned before she was cut off by a yawn, which only emphasised her point. She'd been awake since 7, knowing that today was one of the most important days of her life. Every possibility and outcome of her future was shuffled through her head as she tried to grasp any ounce of sleep that made itself available to her. But instead of blissful dreams, she was faced with pits of anxiety that made her dream feel like her worst nightmare.
"We promised we'd open them together, so hurry up!" Yelena was horrendously impatient, which was a huge contrast to Kaia's more laid back approach in life. But they'd planned this day since they were 11 years old, having been inseparable since they were 6.
Their first day of ballet class. Yelena was only there because Melina wanted her to follow in Natasha's footsteps; the golden child. But, naturally, the blonde wanted to be anywhere else, so she was stubborn in not moving from her spot on the bench. Her hair was pulled up into what could have been a neat bun, but she had wriggled so much that her baby hairs were everywhere.
Kaia, on the other hand, couldn't have been more different. Her uniform was pristine, tiny feet slipped into perfectly tied ballet shoes. Her almost black hair was pulled into a braided bun, secured perfectly on the top of her head, not a single hair out of place. She sat on the bench with her back straight, her hands folded in her lap. She looked alert, attentive; her blue eyes wide as she took in every person who walked past. She looked in wonder at the older girls who walked past, admiring their pointe shoes with lust. She was going to be like them one day.
Their teacher called everyone into the studio as a group, knowing a lot of the children would be nervous. Kaia walked in with her head held high; this was where she was meant to be. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw Yelena putting up a fight with her mother, who was trying to coax her defiant 6 year old from the bench.
What spurred her to do this was a complete mystery, but Kaia found herself wandering over to Yelena and extending out her hand.
"I'm Kaia." Was simply all she said. Yelena stopped squirming, peering up at the girl with her big green eyes. She looked at her mother briefly, who just smiled.
"Yelena."
"You know that class is about to start, right?" Kaia stated, confused as to why the girl wasn't in the studio like everyone else.
"Yes. But I'm not going." The young Russian was stubborn and folded her arms over her chest, pouting slightly.
"Ballet isn't sissy, you know. It's strong. You don't see the 'tough' boys doing it, do you?" Yelena shook her head, slightly confused at her point. Kaia leaned towards Lena and whispered in her ear. "It's because they can't handle it. They're not strong like we are."
Yelena smiled at the thought of being stronger than the boys in her class. She was fiercely competitive and she revelled in the idea of being better at something than someone else. Kaia's hand was still outstretched and so the blonde Russian took it gladly, their tiny hands clasping tightly together.
Melina watched the girls disappear into the glossy studio, a proud smile on her face. Those girls were going to be best friends, she just knew it.
And she was exactly right. Kaia transferred to Yelena's school in 2nd grade, and they became inseparable. Even the teachers knew they wouldn't be able to find one without the other 2 steps behind. And when one of them were sick and off school... it was like the one left behind was missing a limb.
When they transferred to middle school together, they made a pact. The girls would go to the same high school and the same college.
And that day had finally come. Acceptance letters were being sent out and the girls had applied to the same university. Which was what prompted Yelena's early morning facetime call.
Kaia scrolled through her emails, her heart pounding out of her chest. This was what they'd worked towards for 4 years. Their extra-curricular activities, sports, dance, languages... everything leading up to this moment.
"Oh fuck." Kaia muttered, seeing the email appear in her inbox. "I've got it."
On the other side of the screen, Yelena had her email open too, the link tempting her mouse, but also making her hesitate. What if their plan didn't work out?
"Wait." Yelena rushed, making Kaia freeze. "Whatever happens, we stay best friends, right?"
"I can't believe you just asked me that question Belova." Kaia scoffed, slightly offended as she adjusted the neck of her hoodie.
"I just had to be sure. Okay," Yelena let out a big breath. "It's now or never."
There was silence on both ends of the call as they waited for the link to load up. Time seemed to slow down, seconds turning into minutes as the loading circle span round and round. Yelena had picked up a hair tie and was spinning it around her finger as Kaia chewed on the edge of her thumb.
But the circle stopped spinning. The girls stopped fidgeting. They both held their breath as a message appeared on their screens.
Pale Oak University is delighted to offer you a place on your chosen course. We hope that you accept our offer and will join us in August on campus. Please click 'confirm choice' at the bottom of the page to secure your place.
But neither of them said anything. They tried to read each other's expressions as they looked back at the camera, but they were so scared of not going to the same college that neither wanted to burst the bubble.
But Kaia couldn't help let a small smile slip, which prompted Yelena to do the same.
"Did you-"
"Are you-"
Both girls started to speak at the same time but paused for the other continue. Kaia just nodded at Yelena's question, not trusting her voice to be strong enough to speak.
"Oh my god, me too." Lena's voice came out as nothing more than a hushed whisper, her hands flying to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes.
"Lena." Kaia croaked out, a tear slipping down her cheek. "We did it." She laughed lightly, which blended into a choked sob.
"We really did it."
"We fucking did it!" Kaia leaped out of her chair, spinning around like an excited puppy. "Mama! Dad! We did it! I got in!" Although she was still on facetime, Kaia sprinted downstairs to find her parents, screaming her results to them.
On the other side of the screen, Yelena did the same thing, racing into the kitchen where her parents and sister were sat.
"I GOT IN!" She announced as she skidded to a halt in her fluffy socks, grabbing onto the back of a chair so she didn't slip. "I'm going to Pale Oak!"
Melina and Alexei scooped their youngest into a huge group hug as they cheered, leaving Natasha sitting alone at the table. She would have joined in, if it wasn't for the news that her little sister was going to be at the same university that she was currently at.
"Natasha, come and congratulate your sister. You know out of everyone just how hard the entry process is." Melina said, giving her 20 year old daughter a stern look as she rolled her eyes.
"Nice job Yelly." Nat said, ruffling her sister's hair, purposely messing it up even further. "Just don't bother me okay? I don't want you hanging onto me all the time. It's annoying."
"Natasha be nice." Alexei said disapprovingly. "Your sister is blessing to us all. We are so so proud." He pulled Yelena into his side, which she did not appreciate as she pushed him away with a disgusted look.
"Don't worry Nat. I've got Kaia. We're gonna be just fine."
Nat's head whipped round and she stared at her sister with a raised brow. "Wait... Kaia's going?"
"Duh. She's my best friend." Yelena rolled her eyes, not believing her sister's comment.
Nat shrugged, turning back to her phone. "Wow. Didn't know she had what it took." She mumbled under her breath for only Yelena to hear.
Rage flooded the blonde's cheeks and she clenched her fists at her side. "You're a bitch." she spat through gritted teeth, before marching up the stairs and slamming her door shut, slumping onto her chair in front of her laptop where Kaia was waiting.
"I'm guessing Nat didn't take it too well then." Kaia quipped, throwing an m&m up in the air before catching it in her mouth.
"You know me too well."
"No, well yes, but I also know just how much your sister hates me." Natasha always had a distaste for Lena's best friend, but no one quite knew why. Maybe it was due to them being in the same ballet class, despite Kaia being 2 years younger, or maybe how much time Kaia spent at the Romanoff's. But the brunette didn't really care. Having Nat like her wasn't exactly on the top of her to do list.
"Well, forget about her. She's not going to ruin it for me, or for you. We've had everything planned out since we were 10 years old Ky, and it's actually going to happen."
"Still gonna be roommates right?" Kaia asked, reading over the email one more time to cement it into her brain. It still felt surreal that they were actually going to college. No more high school. No more living at home. No more living 25 minutes away from each other. It was perfect.
"If you really think I'm gonna sleep in the same room as some random ass girl who snores and talks in her sleep, then think again. I'm sleeping with you or not sleeping at all."
"Well then I think we need to contact someone about it, because I don't even know if you can pick your roommates."
"I'll just say I have major attachment issues and breakdown into floods of tears whenever I'm not around you." Yelena said, spinning around on her chair before getting distracted by her massive shark plushie. She reached for it and pulled it onto her lap, stuffing her face into its fur.
Kaia just rolled her eyes. Yelena was always one for the dramatics. "Well that's going to work so well seeing as we are taking different majors, but sure." Yelena was majoring in sports science, seeing as she was on the women's football team and she loved it with all of her heart. Ballet was never really her thing, so as soon as she could quit, she did.
Kaiiarina was majoring in dance and they both were taking a Russian language class, as it was easy credits seeing as they both wanted to be fluent in their 'motherland' language.
"Well if that doesn't work, we can just get your brother to intimidate them all into putting us together." JB Lenkov (or James Buchanan) was in the army and had been away for 8 months. He was 5 years older than Yel and Kaia, so they joked about him a lot. Plus, he did try to ask Natasha out on a date, only to be turned down by her harsh words. "If you have a dick, I'm not into you."
"Let's just email them. See what they say." Kaia clicked on the email link, excitement surging through her body. It felt real now. But with the excitement came a lot of nerves. The kind that sent butterflies swarming in all different directions, extending from her fingertips to the depths of her stomach. A nauseating feeling descended in her throat, but she swallowed it down.
New experiences weren't really her thing. She grown a lot more self conscious from the bold and daring 6 year old she once was, but within the duo she was still the sensible and down to earth one. A stickler for the rules, which Yelena often felt were mere suggestions.
"I know its 8:30, but something in my body is screaming for a Starbucks right now, and unfortunately my asshat of a sister won't drive me." Yelena peaked over the top of her shark, which she had nicknamed Brucie, and batted her eyelashes rather dramatically at her best friend, who payed absolutely no notice to her.
"Kaia..." Still nothing.
"Ky!" Crickets.
"Kaiiarina!" Oh now she'd done it. The brunette's blue eyes seemed to darken as she peered up at the camera, narrowing her eyes into what became a bone chilling glare.
"Yelena Fyodorovna Belova. Did you just use my government name?" Although she was joking, Kaia made no effort to smile or even lighten her expression, loving how scared her friend looked. Similarly to a deer in headlights.
Lena flashed a sheepish smile. "Coffee?" Was all she offered, trying to hit Ky's sweet spot. "Caramel iced coffee?" Kaia was still glaring. "I'll buy you a blueberry muffin."
Now that was a deal breaker. "Even when I hate your guts, you still manage to win me over." Kaia groaned, pushing away from her desk and wheeling over to her closet whilst still sat on her chair. She grabbed a jacket and stood up, walking over to her table to grab her keys. "I'll be there in 20. Be ready or I'm taking Nat instead." She leaned over her laptop and hovered her mouse over the red 'end call' button.
"Oh wow. Threat of the century." Yelena feigned offense and Kaia blew a raspberry. Childish, yes, but
"Bye bitch."
-⧗-
Kaia's family was rich, very rich, but it hadn't gone to her head like many privileged girls she could mention. Her father was the CEO of a major jewellery company back in Russia, that had gone global in the last 10 years.
She had all the physical signs of a rich girl; expensive clothes, dainty jewellery, designer sunglasses that were nearly always placed in her wavy hair, pristinely manicured nails and of course, her most prized possession... her tesla. It was an extravagant 18th birthday gift from her father, and as normal as it seemed in a life like hers, Kaia burst into tears when she saw the sparkling white car parked on their driveway.
Yelena seemed more eager to show off Kaia's new car than she was, hopping into the front seat and immediately connected her phone to the aux, Mitski blasting at full volume.
And even though it had been 6 months since Ky's birthday, Yelena still clambered into the sleek white car with a gleeful expression, her phone ready in her hand to Bluetooth. Kaia's once peaceful music was soon replaced with songs more to Yelena's taste, reflecting her wild and chaotic personality.
"This is just like a free taxi service for you isn't it?" Kaia commented as Yelena clearly made herself comfortable, her hands adjusting the direction of the aircon as Kaia pulled away from the drive.
"Yeah, but you're rich so it's fine." It was true. Kaia didn't care about giving Yelena lifts. And besides, it's not like she payed for the electricity that powered her car.
10 minutes later she swerved into the Starbucks parking lot, a smile gracing her face as she saw the all-too-familiar store. The girls pushed the doors open and went inside to order their drinks. Yelena offered to collect their drinks so Kaia took a seat in a booth next to the window and peered outside, watching the hustle and bustle of the world outside.
Her hand was propped up under chin and she soon drifted into her thoughts, trying to process the events of this morning even though it was only 9:20am.
Yelena observed her best friend from afar, watching how she retreated into her head. She knew Kaia's concerns about college, especially with Natasha who was also doing the same course. The tension between the 2 could be cut clearly with a knife, which made thanksgiving and birthdays slightly awkward. But Yelena's outlandish personality always helped muffle the discomfort with a joke or a random song, which Kaia was thankful for.
She carried their coffees and blueberry muffins over to the table and slid in opposite Kaia, who was still staring into space out of the window. Her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth and Lena could feel Ky's knee bouncing up and down as their legs touched under the table.
"Hey. Kaia." Yelena said gently, placing her hand on her friend's knee. "I got that muffin you wanted." She slid the muffin across the table and watched as Kaia's eyes flickered into focus and she took a deep breath.
"I was beginning to think you'd forget." She joked, taking a sip of her coffee and smiling at the taste. Her grin was slightly forced and Yelena could tell it didn't quite reach her eyes.
Yelena laughed, her adorable giggle making Kaia smile harder. "Me? Forget? Never." She watched as her best friend slowly picked apart her muffin, breaking it into pieces on the wrapper. "What's going on?"
Kaiiarina sighed. Her anxiety wasn't anything new, and the duo had learned to cope with it really well. Yelena was goofy but always understanding, switching her naturally comedic tone to a more serious one when she needed to. And she was an excellent observer, which definitely came in handy as Kaia usually withdrew into herself whenever anxiety took over.
"Oh nothing." She said casually, more so to convince herself than Yelena. "It's just- well, college is a lot."
Yelena knew where this was coming from. They'd spoken about it a few times, but Ky still struggled to wrap her head around it. "Yeah... but it's not different for us."
"Why?" Kaia questioned as she bit into a chunk of muffin. A blueberry exploded on her tongue and sent a fuzzy feeling in her stomach. That's why those muffins were her favourites.
"Because we're still together. And we always will be."
Kaia thought for a moment as she chewed. Yes, they would be together, but they'd also be around Natasha and a bunch of new people they'd never seen before. Plus, they were doing different courses which meant different people, different professors, different buildings, different schedules... it was a lot.
Yelena took her silence as a hint to keep talking. "You're worried about Nat aren't you?"
"No." Kaia snorted. "Well... I'm hoping your sister is too busy to worry about making my life a living hell... but you know..." she trailed off and Yelena smiled, having figured out the root of her worries.
"You'll be fine. Besides, you won't even see her. You have me instead!"
"Hmmm... I wonder which Romanoff-Belova sibling I like best..." Kaia pretended to think long and hard, knowing it would mess with Yelena all too well.
Yelena narrowed her eyes and lined up a blueberry to flick, her lips curling into a pout. "For the sake of your white sweatshirt, you better say me. Or I'm gonna find another roommate."
"Okay Miss 'I breakdown in tears when I'm not around you'. Can't fool me Belova.". A smug expression crossed Kaia's face and Yelena huffed, sinking into the soft leather seat as she tossed the blueberry into her mouth and chomped on it with force.
"I hate you." She mumbled, glaring around the half empty coffee shop as her arms folded across her chest and one foot came to rest on the maroon seat.
Kaia chuckled at her childish behaviour, expecting nothing less. "No you don't."
With her infamous pout and inability to look her friend in the eye, Yelena answered "Yes I do" whilst eyeing up the baristas working quickly behind the counter, taking drive-thru orders as they drizzled caramel onto several frappuccinos.
"Okay then. See you around." Kaia grabbed her keys and iced latte and made a move to stand up from the booth, before Yelena put her leg on her seat so she couldn't get out. "No wait! I need a lift!"
Kaia sat down with a scoff. "Wow... so you are using me!"
"Yeah I am." Yelena said with no shame with a mouth full of muffin. "What about it?"
"Remind me why I'm friends with you again?"
"Because you need someone with good music taste to test your car speakers. And someone to bring banners to your dance recitals." A cheeky glint shone in Yelena's eyes as Kaia groaned, her head falling into her hands at the memory.
"No! Never again." She peeked through her fingers to see her best friend sniggering, to which she kicked her rather hard in the shin, earning a pained yelp from the blonde. "You may find it hilarious, but I will never live that down. I almost got kicked off the team for that!"
Yelena rolled her eyes. "Oh shut up. Natty was only jealous because I didn't make her a sign. She would never kick you off. You're too good. They need you to win." She was right. Kaia was unbelievably talented, although she would never admit it.
One of the many things the girls had in common was their dedication. When they wanted something, they were some of the most driven teenagers around. Both sets of parents were proud, although Yelena's showed it a lot more than Kaia's did. Her's seemed to think that the money they gave her was enough to make up to the detached and cold behaviour they showed towards her and her brother. But it just brought the siblings closer than they ever would be.
"We have 3 months until college. What the fuck are we gonna do?" Yelena asked, slurping the last of her coffee. It seemed like a hell of a long time to sit around stressing, which is what Kaia would do.
"We need to buy stuff for our dorm. And I want to go to the beach."
"Okay Ky that's boring stuff. I'm talking sleeping under the stars, going to haunted houses, days at the lake, getting drunk whenever we want! We have all this time and no pressure to do anything. We can't waste it!"
Kaia chewed on her lip before smiling. The sun as shining and it was warm. Perfect May summer weather. "Okay fuck it. Lake day?" She asked, grabbing her keys and adjusting her sunglasses on her head.
"I love you!"
They dumped their trash and ran out to the car, jumping in before racing home to collect their stuff. Kaia's parents weren't home (surprise surprise) so she didn't need to ask permission from anyone. And Yelena never asked permission She was 18 and frankly Melina and Alexei trusted her enough for her to do what she wanted.
"First day of stress free summer is about to commence!" Yelena announced when they were both back in the car. The electric guitar intro of 'Sweet Child O'Mine' blared through the tesla speakers as they pulled out of the driveway and it suddenly felt real.
It was summer.
They were going to college.
Together.
10 year old Kaiiarina and Yelena would be proud.
part 2
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sadhours · 1 year ago
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dirty laundry
billy hargrove x fem!reader
masterlist • requests open
cw: 18+ minors dni, established relationship, smut, public sex, swallowing c*m hehehe I missed billy
🧡🧡🧡🧡
it’s kind of fitting. after a weekend of partying, you had to do some laundry. so monday morning, 9 AM, you’re sitting in the laundromat beside your boyfriend. you’re hungover. billy smokes a Marlboro and the smell is making you nauseous. you’re nursing a sprite he’d bought you from the vending machine. he has a coke. you’re somewhat regretting not indulging in the breakfast beer billy offered you but the thought of the booze had made your stomach twist something wicked. the shitty speakers spill a tinny “dirty laundry” by don henley.
“this songs actually pretty badass,” billy mumbles around the butt of his smoke, tapping his scuffed motorcycle boots.
you frown, “i like don henley.”
your boyfriend laughs, it’s a loud bellow and you really wish you had that beer to dull the headache splitting your head. but you love his laugh.
“like him like you’d suck his dick or…?” he teases and you roll your eyes despite the way it pains you.
“no, not my type,” you grumble. “i like his music.”
there’s a liquor store two stores up. you keep rubbernecking out the window at it and your boyfriend picks up on it. he reaches over and squeezes your knee, “regretting not having a beer with me this morning?”
“a little,” you gripe, “the lights are too bright, your cigarette stinks and i’m so tired.”
billy leans close to you with a pout, eyebrows furrowed. he looks adorable, even though he’s condescending you. “want me to go get baby a shot and a beer?”
“would you?” you ask, all wide eyed in a silent beg you know gets him.
he smirks, leans forward and bites your nose. it pulls a giggle from you which is exactly what you need. “i’ll be back,” he grabs your face and squeezes it before pulling away and heading out the door, it chimes with his steps. you lean back and watch his ass saunter down the sidewalk in his too-tight Levi’s.
once he disappears into the liquor store, you bring your attention back to the washing machine. watching as your clothes spin in circles, which doesn’t do anything positive for the spinning happening in your gut so you look away quickly. billy’s hard to keep up with but you’ve never had so much fun in your life. and he’s so sweet, really, when he wants to be. you’d kind of saved him when you brought up him moving him after only a month of hooking up. you were shocked when he jumped at the opportunity but that was before you met neil. it makes sense now. your boyfriend is free to be himself, and you love every bit of him.
he’s quick in the liquor store, returning and hopping up on the row of unused washing machines opposite the chair you’re sitting in. he opens up the black plastic back and displays a little bottle of Jack Daniels.
“come get your hair of the dog, baby,” he says in a seductive voice, all low as he wiggles his eyebrows. you extend your hand and then his brows furrow, “I got you trained better than that. C’mere, girl.”
you exhale with a frustrated sigh but obey your sexy beyond belief boyfriend. standing up and taking the few short steps to situate yourself between his thighs.
“atta girl,” he purrs, opening the shooter and pressing it to your lips, “head back, foxy.”
you lean your head back, downing the shot in a quick three gulps. he hums, all satisfied as he watches. the whiskey isn’t sitting in your tummy the best but the way billy chases forward and licks a drip off your chin quells any sickness. he follows it with a filthy kiss, tongue dragging against yours as his right hand grabs the back of your head, knitting his fingers into the roots of your hair and tugs lightly. a helpless little whine escapes from your throat but billy swallows it, smiling into the dirty kiss. once he pulls away, he smirks, eyes darker than before.
“better?”
you nod, biting your lip as you look to him. billy retrieves the shooter he bought for himself and downs it easily, like it doesn’t make his stomach curl. then he hands you a tall can of beer, opens it for you before he does. you take an eager sip to get the bitterness of the whiskey off your tongue. billy chuckles, it’s deep and rattles his chest. he nudges his nose against yours, “i know that look.”
“s’your fault,” you mumble, cheeks hot as you admit, “‘cause you kissed me like that.”
billy hums, hooks his knuckle under your chin and tilts your head up a bit. “like this?” he whispers back before pressing his lips to yours hungrily. licks into your mouth like you’re not in public and has your spine tingling, thighs warm and cunt aching. you respond by kissing him back just as desperately, putting your beer down beside him before both your hands move to grip his white t-shirt. his mouth tastes like whiskey, cigarettes and Billy. You get lost in it, moaning pathetically as you make out like a couple of high school kids.
Then the dryer buzzes, loud and jarring. You pull away, groaning softly before strutting over to the machine. You open it, grabbing a cart and wheeling it over. You tug all the clothes into basket, reaching in deep and wiggling your ass because you can feel your boyfriends eyes on it. You don’t even realize he’s jumped off the washers and made his way behind you until he’s kicking the cart away and grabbing onto your hips.
“you missed something,” he tells you, all nonchalant.
“huh?” you peer inside the massive dryer but you don’t see anything. billy’s hips meet the fat of your ass, pushing your upper half deeper into the machine.
“it’s really in there,” he says, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your leggings. his other hand presses on the middle of your back, bending you over completely into the dryer. “almost there, you’re so close.”
you giggle, knowing exactly what you’re asshole of a boyfriend is doing. he pulls your leggings down to your thighs, moving his hand to rub your pussy through your underwear. you moan softly, still playing his game as you pretend to reach for the clothing he says in deep in there. billy’s impatient though, tugs your underwear down with your leggings. feels the slick collecting at your hole and hums, rubbing his fingers in circles at your entrance. his fingers are so thick, you can feel him stretching your hole just from the teasing. hangover suddenly forgotten, you’re spreading your legs and silently begging for him to slide inside you.
billy teases, “aw… keep reaching, baby… you’re almost there.”
his middle and ring finger slip inside your dripping cunt, the stretch delicious and intoxicating in their own right. he drags the pads of his fingers against your walls, pushing in and pulling out. your brains already fuzzy, eyes rolling back before your lids flutter shut. he laughs, soft and sultry as he fucks you with his fingers. out in the open. anyone can walk in here or hell, walk by and see your boyfriend bending you into the industrial dryer and fingering you senseless. the rush of it only make your cunt slicker.
he scissors his fingers, stretching your hole open wider as he smoothes his other hand over the expanse of your back.
“god, you’re so fucking wet,” billy exhales, his voice echoing slightly into the drum of the dryer. hits your ears something fierce. has you pushing your ass back at him. you moan out, nails dragging against the metal of the dryer as he finger fucks you open.
you don’t even hear the sound of his zipper or the shuffle of him pushing his jeans back. suddenly he’s pulling his fingers out and you feel the round, thick tip of his cock pushing at your pussy.
“fuck, billy,” you gasp, arching your back just slightly.
“atta girl,” he purrs, “so wet and desperate for my cock, yeah?”
“yeah— ah!” your response is hijacked by a moan, result of billy snapping his hips forward and completely sheathing his girthy cock in your fluttering hole.
he groans, a vibrating and sexy sound. let’s you know you feel so so so good for him. he doesn’t go slow, a hand on the small of your back and the other on your hip as he bullies his cock deep in your walls. billy always makes you feel like such a desperate slut. knows he can use and abuse your hole whenever and however. and how the fuck could you say no? the stretch is fucking unworldly. his cock is a goddamn masterpiece. crafted by the gods themselves to help please. if there ain’t nothing else to live for, billy’s cock is all you need.
once he’s inside you, you’re fucking gone. cockdrunk in a second. his hands move to knead at your ass as he pummels into you. rough and reckless. so billy. reality slips, you’re not even thinking about how the two of you are in a public place. fucking so filthy, so rough where there’s nowhere to hide. if you get caught, you get caught and you don’t fucking care. both so zoned in on getting off.
your hips slightly ache from where they bounce against the edge of the dryer but the sensation of Billy deep in your cunt dulls any pain. his cock pulsing as it drags in and out of your fluttering walls. you squeeze him, want him buried so deep and dirty.
“that’s it, slut,” he groans, voice deep as it bounces around the drum of the deeper, “taking my cock like a good girl.”
you whine back, not able to do much else. there’s no way you could form sensible thoughts. you ache to tell him how fucking good it feels but it’s useless, would fumble out of your mouth like word soup because billy fucks you stupid.
it’s a fucking joke when he moves his hand around your hip to rub at your clit. his goal is to get you to cum as quick as he can, because once those skilled fingers start strumming against your clit, your legs are shaking and your voice is uncontrollable in the moans bellowing from you.
“you gonna cum for me?” he chuckles, circles firm and quick against your clit, “so easy. such an easy slut for me, ain’t ya?”
“billy…” you cry in a plea, a whiny and pathetic sound. you’re on the edge, you can see it. each little stroke of his fingers and each drag of his cock against your tight walls threatens to toss you over it.
“ya wanna cum?” he spits, fingers working faster, “cream all over my cock, be a good slut for daddy.”
that sends you. a deep breath and sinking over the edge you go, crying out in absolute ecstasy as his cock works you overtime. drags your orgasm out with his fingers not letting up. you’re dead weight after, billy’s hands moving to your hips to hold you up as he barrels his cock faster and faster into your sensitive cunt. he pulls back rather quickly, grabbing your hair and pulling you out of the dryer.
“on your knees,” he instructs and you obey, hands on his thighs to steady you as you stick your tongue out flat. eyes wide and needy as you gaze up at your boyfriend. a curl has fallen into the center of his forehead, blue eyes dark with lust as he fingers move to grip his cock, jerking it in quick and firm strokes. “that’s it, good girl, yeah…”
he busts, spilling cum into your eager tongue. you love the taste of billy’s cum. abnormally sweet for a guy whose diet consists of booze and red meat. and when billy cums, he doesn’t close his eyes. he stares down at you, his lips part and you can see the swell of his tongue against his lower lip as he moans. you swallow, licking your lips so you don’t miss any.
he reaches for the back of your hand, scratching at the back of your scalp as he smiles warmly down at you. after a beat of lovingly looking at each other, you both get dressed. you plant a sloppy kiss on his lips before moving to transfer the load from the washer into the dryer. billy sits on the chairs and lights up another cigarette.
“you’re something else, foxy,” he grins, cheeks flushed all pretty.
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iniquitousyearning · 1 year ago
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hey can you please do tom x hufflepuff reader hcs??
Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader headcanons.
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(A/N: idk how this ended up being so long. i got carried away. i love tom. i love his complexity. i could write about him forever. anyways, enjoy:))
tom riddle and a hufflepuff reader would be damn near polar opposites, and there are a few reasons why i say this->
tom is a very reserved man, yet undoubtedly driven by an ambitious and power-hungry nature, always seeking dominance and control in every aspect of his life.
hufflepuffs, on the other hand, are known for their kindness, their loyalty, prioritizing the well-being of others over personal ambition.
tom riddle is the type of man who is not afraid to deceive others for personal gain, while hufflepuffs value fairness and honesty in each of their interactions.
not to mention how tom is emotionally restrained, rarely displaying vulnerability or empathy, while hufflepuffs are known for being emotionally open and expressing genuine care/understanding for others.
i believe tom would be rather annoyed by hufflepuffs, perhaps even put off by their loud, outgoing nature, but i also feel as though he would respect them more than other houses because they are known for being more by-the-book.
i believe this pairing would be WONDERFUL for him, and i’d imagine it’d go a little like this->
perhaps you and tom would be involuntarily paired up for an assignment, an unlikely collaboration that tom figured would be an easy mark for him.
originally, he’d find himself irritated by your constant cheerful and optimistic nature; finding it rather absurd that you weren’t at all fazed by his cold, cunning attitude.
there’d definitely be initial clashes between the two of you, disagreements of methods, but tom would find himself stunned as you met every one of his suggestions with a positive, passionate attitude, not daring to get discouraged or frustrated with him.
your unwavering optimism would be shocking to him. especially in the face of his calculated cynicism. it’d be then, that tom would be astonished by your dedication and genuine passion for learning, a rare quality to obtain.
his initial cold, guarded demeanour would slowly begin to fade.
tom would find himself beginning to pay more attention to you, his curiosity extending to outside the confines of the classroom.
he’d begin to wonder if your genuine kindness is truly authentic or merely a manipulation tactic, leading him to question the sincerity of your character.
which he’d only question because that’s the way his mind works.
he’d never known someone so open and genuine like you. he’d convince himself you had ulterior motives.
however, tom would quickly observe that your authenticity extended universally, and was not just directed at him.
your small acts of kindness and interactions with strangers became evident, and he’d witness your unwavering positivity even in the most challenging situations.
he’d notice how thoughtful you are, how you’d spend your free time maintaining the Owlery, ensuring it’s well-kept and sanitary.
he’d watch you from a distance as you continually brought the owls food and water, giving them attention and love which was something you did upon your own accord, without expecting any compensation.
it became clear to him that you did these things because you genuinely loved to do them, not because you wanted praise for it. and at this, tom was completely taken aback.
your radiant smile, capable of lighting up any room, would become a revelation to him, leaving him puzzled about how he initially overlooked this aspect of your character for all those years.
it’d be here that inner turmoil would begin to brew within tom as he’d have no choice but to acknowledge your ability to see the good within everything and everyone, and especially within him. something not many people are capable of.
as time passed, you couldn't help but notice a gradual softening in him.
during your collaborative sessions on the assignment, he became more receptive to your ideas, actively seeking your thoughts.
surprisingly, he started engaging in conversations beyond the project, asking about your day and exhibiting small changes in his demeanour that were entirely new to you.
tom was breaking, his walls slowly being chipped away by your infectious smile and enthusiasm.
the unexplainable shift in his perspective both intrigued and unsettled him, as you became the catalyst for awakening emotions he never believed he could feel.
he’d try to fight back, he’d try to get himself together, but it was useless. you were in his head, and there was no getting you out.
however, given the fact that tom struggles with showing even the smallest amounts of vulnerability, he’d try to be as subtle as possible with his interest in you. hoping that you’d eventually catch on.
perhaps he’d begin with small gestures, like gifting you a book on rare and beautiful magical creatures, saying that he noticed it in the library and thought of you, believing you might like it.
it would not go unnoticed by you just how considerate this was, and just how much he’d begun to take awareness of your interests.
you found yourself engrossed in the book, a sight that never failed to bring a subtle smile to tom’s face whenever he spotted you across the hall.
observing you immersed in the pages made him quietly content, often requiring a conscious effort on his part to break himself free from the captivation.
his brain would be screaming, “what the hell am i doing?” but he wouldn’t be able to deny just how much he loved seeing you enthralled by the gift.
the feeling was intoxicating, and wholly unfamiliar; he needed more. he needed to do more.
perhaps the next move he’d make would be to gift you a rare enchanted plant, after having noted your love for herbology.
he’d present the plant to you in a subtle way, saying that he’d found it while taking a stroll through the forest and thought you’d like it.
he’d go into details about its properties, its rarity and how to effectively take care of it, even though he knew you already knew all of this.
he knew you absolutely loved the fact that he cared for these plants just as much as you did. this was all part of his plan.
and of course, at this point, you’d have the hunch that he was into you; but being as perceptive and intuitive as you are, you’d know that pestering tom or trying to force him to admit feelings would be useless.
the man moves at his own pace.
so instead, you’d invite him to join you as you cleaned the Owlery, wanting to spend more time with him. the two of you would gradually become closer and closer, tom’s harsh demeanour fading away with the wind with each passing day.
and even still, tom hardly made any advances. tom hardly wanted to put himself in a vulnerable position. he wanted to be sure you wanted him before he ever revealed his intentions.
if he was touchy with you, he’d never insinuate it was because he’s into you. he’d kiss you on the cheek after walking you back to your dorm for the night, and then act like nothing ever happened in the morning.
and this might have annoyed some, but not you.
you understood that this is how tom was, and you admired him for it. you were entirely understanding. you wanted him to open up on his own terms, and you were willing to wait for him.
eventually, tom knew he couldn’t hold back his feelings anymore. he knew he needed to make you his. he knew he’d do fucking anything.
and this feeling would only multiply as he spotted you across the courtyard, speaking to a boy from your house.
your smile was glowing, your laugh was radiating, and the feeling this sight inspired inside tom’s heart could have been enough to ignite the entire castle into pure fucking flame.
whatever he was doing at this moment didn’t matter anymore, he only had one objective in mind.
making you his.
without waiting for you to finish your conversation, he’d interrupt, stating he needed to speak to you.
you’d smile, sensing his urgency, and follow him over to the far side of the courtyard, looking out at the breathtaking view of the faraway valleys and mountains.
as soon as tom was content with your seclusion, he’d cup the back of your head and crash his lips to yours, kissing you with enough fervour to make up for all the days and weeks and months he’d wished he’d have made a proper move.
pulling back, he’d meet your eyes. “i need you to be mine,” he’d whisper, as though the words scared him. “you’ve made me feel things i’ve never known possible, you’ve broken me down without effort. you are the most beautiful, genuine woman i’ve ever met, and i have been falling in love with you for months…i can’t hide it anymore, i need you…”
the words would be music to your ears, the joy unfathomable.
of course, you’d be his.
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delusionaldaydreamz · 10 months ago
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”round two?” | c.s.
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W/C- 1039 | x reader/ y/n
in which y/n teases Chris, and ends up being left turned on over such a simple action (smut warning, not super detailed though I’m bad at writing smut sorry lol// includes name calling and slapping)
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
       I sat across from my boyfriend and his brothers, propped up on their kitchen counter as they sat on the couch. Watching the back of their heads, I decided to have a bit of fun. I quickly typed out a horny message, sending it to my boyfriend and immediately looking up to get his reaction. His head shot up from his phone, quickly looking back at me with wide eyes. I’d heard the sound of his phone locking almost as quickly as he had opened it. He gave me a quick warning look before turning his attention back to Nick and Matt. They had been talking about this months videos and what they were going to film and when. 
        I wasn’t actually horny, I just liked teasing him when he was doing serious things, because hes the easiest person on the planet to make horny. He’s like a teenager going through puberty 24/7. After a few moments I made my way down to his room, making my shuffling extra loud so he’d look back and see where I was going, again just to tease him. I didn’t expect him to get up from their little discussion and follow me, so I was very surprised when he appeared just minutes later. “What the hell?” I chucked looking up at him from the bed. I locked my phone and set it down, sitting up. “What are you doing down here?” “Why are you teasing me right now, y/n?” His voice was lowered as he made his way over to the bed. I hadn’t been horny, but the sight definitely aroused me. “I- what are you talking about?” I asked looking up at him. He rolled his eyes, sexual frustration so apparent in his expressions and tone right now. “I’m trying to work,” he said, unbuckling his belt slowly as he stood at the foot of the bed. “Now they’re gonna know you were down here getting fucked like a little slut when I was supposed to be helping them with videos.” Chris let his pants slip down to his ankles, stepping out of them as he quickly pulled his dick out. “Off,” he tugged at my shorts, to which I happily obliged. He leaned down, harshly kissing me for a few moments before lining himself up. 
        Chris slipped into me, with ease after how wet he had just made me, making a small gasp escape my mouth. “Fuck-“ I groaned out immediately. His pace quickened almost instantly, pounding into me quickly as he clearly tried to rush himself to finish. “Chris!” I moaned out, causing him to extend a hand down to gently slap me. “Shut the fuck up!” He said in a hushed tone, “my brothers are gonna hear you.” Chris’s hand made its way up to my mouth, roughly covering it as he began to thrust even harder and deeper into me. He knew this always made me lose it, and typically he’d only fuck me rough like this when we were home alone because he knows it gets me loud, but it also makes him cum the quickest. “Fuck,” Chris let out his own low groan. “Take that shit off and turn around.” He motioned to my shirt as he slowly pulled out of me. I happily obliged, pulling my shirt over my head before turning around, bending over for him. I’d arch my back a bit extra every time I’d bend over for him, trying to give him a prettier view. He let out a soft hiss as he stared down at me, his hand traveling my side, slapping my ass firmly before he placed his hand on the center of my lower back, slipping himself back into me once again. I tried to muffle my moans as his pace quickened again, hitting me right in my most pleasurable spot each time he’d thrust inward. The sensation was already veering on the edge of too much, so when Chris leaned forward, his chest pressing against my back as his hand snaked around to rub my clit, I’d almost lost it right then and there. “Fuck!” I couldn’t help the moan that escaped my mouth, causing Chris’s free hand to reach up and cover it. “Be quiet baby,” his voice was getting breathless now as he started placing soft kisses along my neck and shoulder causing me to moan more. “Baby,” he said in a warning tone. His pace had slowed down a bit, the moment turning a lot more romantic than desperate, but it didn’t last too long. After a few more slow strokes he picked up the pace again, indicating he was about to cum soon. 
      He quickly pulled out, and I almost instantly felt my back being littered with warm liquid as I collapsed onto the bed. Quickies weren’t usually my favorite, but they could definitely be fun in situations like this. As I turned to carefully look at him without making too much of a mess, my breathing still hard, I saw him pull the shirt off his body, exposing his torso I’d loved so much, as he reached down, using the shirt straight off his back to clean his liquids off of me. I was instantly wet again at the sight, never had he done that before, and never had such a simple action turned me on so much. “Here,” he handed me the shirt, leaning down to place a kiss on my cheek. He was completely oblivious to what he’d just done to me, not even thinking about it as he handed me his shirt to clean any spots he missed. 
      “Round two?” I looked up at him before he had the chance to find a new shirt. “What!?” He exclaimed, an amused smile on his face. “That was so hot, Chris.” I said as he shook his head, putting his pants back on. The amused grin never left his lips. “When we’re done coming up with videos okay?” He leaned down to kiss me again, before finding a new shirt and disappearing back up the stairs, leaving me to fantasize about what I had just witnessed as I laid back in his bed. That man will be the death of me.  •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
a/n- this seems so short to me sorry lol and also I’m soooo bad at writing smut, soooo once again I’m sorry for the lack of detail and that it’s so short lmao enjoy the concept tho at least 😂
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rafesteddy · 10 months ago
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𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟚 – 𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕟 ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕔
+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘
𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚞𝚣𝚣𝙲𝚞𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
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Warning: Language, drug usage, drinking, name calling, choking, pet names, sharing kink, ownership kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, choking, cuckolding, rough sex, anal sex, oral male receiving, oral female receiving, threesome, degradation, hair pulling, pussy slapping, female oral stim from the back, the twins talk about the reader in an explicit manner without her.
📖 After meeting Rafe's (CurtainBangs!) twin brother Cam (BuzzCut!) for the first time, Rafe gives you a proposal you can't help but accept: sharing you.
❕❕𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚡 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚣𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙸𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗❕❕
Rafe’s POV:
“Too bad you’re not coming in two weeks,” I drone as I relax on the couch, kicking my feet up on the coffee table. I run my fingers through my hair, turning my hat backward as I shift my attention to the bathroom, watching Y/n’s shadow moves underneath it. Baby girl…
“What’s goin’ on then?” Cam asks, mindlessly flipping through the TV; pulling up Netflix.
“MacLaren’s comin’ to town for a soccer game.”
“No shit,” Cam grins. “Aunt Connie and Uncle Matt comin’ too?”
“I don’t know. Probably,” I shrug.
“He bringin’ Zoey?”
“Hope not,” I sough. “Girl’s a dud.”
Cam snickers as he lifts his White Claw to his lips, draining the can. “She’s no, Y/n. That’s for sure. You sure this is okay, buddy?” Cam asks as he reaches behind his ear, fishing out a joint.
“Dude…” I scoff, narrowing my eyes on his as he blazes up. “Season ain’t over for me.”
“That’s a shame, brother,” Cam chuckles cruelly before popping it between his lips. “This is good shit. Remember, you ended my season, dickhead. I deserve this shit,” he gripes, his voice already gravelly from the weed. He relaxes his head on the back of the couch, blowing a thick cloud of smoke to the ceiling. “Your girl is stunning. Fuck. She’s somethin’ special,” Cam rolls his head to the side, matching my eyes.
“What did I tell ya?” I gloat as I extend my fingers, reaching for the joint. “Just one hit.”
“Rafey… I dunno,” he mocks, eyeing it as he rolls it between his fingers. “The season ain’t over.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I clip before snatching it from his hands, ripping the joint between my lips. The sticky smoke swirls in my lungs, quenching a fraction of my thirst. “Fuck,” I groan through my exhale, passing it back to his reluctantly. “Take this shit before I smoke it all.”
“Ya didn’t answer my question, dumbfuck,” Cam mumbles, joint dangling from his lips. “You sure you’re okay with this?” I look toward the closed bathroom door, listening for y/n. Her little heels click across the tile, causing my excitement to build even more.
Goddamn. I love watchin’ my girls get fucked. She’s it. She’s that forever type of love. This high is gonna hit different. ‘Course I share. It’s like watchin’ porn, but I’m the star. I’m cuckolding myself… I don’t look at Cam. I’m not a perv like that. But, watching the woman I love get railed by a man who looks like me is a fuckin’ trip. And two of me versus one of them, holy shit, that’s ecstasy.
I’m not jealous of Cam. It also helps that I’m bigger than him. Longer… I got that curve that she loves. The one that makes my neighbors leave nasty little notes on my door after a great night. She never came from a cock before she had me. Always fakin’ it.
Sure, my brother’s thicker, but my stroke game’s better. It always has been. I like to see him try to outdo me. Hasn’t happened yet.
“Please say ‘yes,’ Rafe. Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” Cam snaps me out of my daze, blowing a stream of weed smoke in my face. “Also, can you pull your head out of your ass? This is important shit.”
“Of course, it’s okay, bitch. This isn’t our first rodeo. Twenty bucks says I can make her cum faster,” I taunt as I cock my eyebrow, making him do the same.
“We countin’ the club… What was that, couple minutes tops? The shit was quick.”
“Nah. I helped. That ain’t fair,” I mock. “I’ll even let you go first. You might stand a chance.”
“You’re a cocky little fuck,” Cam sighs weakly, rubbing his hands over his tight buzz cut. “Rules? She’s your girl. What am I workin’ with?”
“Anythin’ you want. I get her ass. I get her last.”
“Fair. Rather rude that you won’t let me take her in the ass, man… I am a guest in your home.”
“That makes no fuckin’ sense,” I chuckle, crossing my arms across my chest; giving him a side-eye.
“Yeah? That’s ‘cause you have no manners, Country Club,” Cam taunts.
“Yeah, Yacht Club? ‘N you do? Oh, by the way, I like your buzz cut, Cami. You finally look like a real man.”
“I like your curtain bangs, Rafey. You look like a fuckin’, princess.”
Bitch. I move fast, punching him roughly in the arm, making him wince. “Good choice,” I bully as I wiggle my eyebrows.
“Yeah. Yeah. ‘You’re the only one standin’ in between me and your girl’s pussy. Yadda. Yadda’.” He mocks my voice, knowing what I was aiming to say. And he’s right. I could end this shit any time I wanted. Y/n is mine.
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I sit in my chair, eyes trail up Y/n’s body. Ugh… Those legs, those thighs—my eyes double, mouth falling open as she drops her little robe for Cam. A bright pink garter belt hugs her skin. Fuck me. I follow the strap higher, my eyes following the curve of her ass. Ugh… I feel helpless. I wanna peel that ruffly little thong right off her body—unfasten the hooks of her pink bra one by one. Her skin is just begging to be touched, her lips kissed, body fucked senseless.
Cam’s moving slower than expected. Taking his time where he’d typically rush. His hands trail her body, skimming her curves, taking it all into memory.
Shit. I’d take her right there. Push her to her knees… Shove my cock down her throat. She gives the best fuckin’ blowjobs, not afraid to get messy for me. Daddy’s perfect little slut. But damn, does she look good bent over my dresser. Her knee thrown up on the top. My hands holding her hips as I watch her take all of me from the back, catching her beautiful face in the reflection of the mirror. But there’s always the bed. I’d spread her out and dick her down, devour her, anything and everything she ever wanted. ‘Rafe’. I can hear her moans and picture her climax perfectly. That face is forever etched into my mind.
“Fuck baby,” Cam chuckles lustfully. Pulling me out of my daze. He takes a haul off his joint, pressing his lips against her mouth, sharing his smoke. Her hands rest on his chest, just like she does to mine. My ring shines on her finger, just a casual reminder that she’s mine. Cam ashes out the joint on my bedframe before returning his attention to Y/n. He cups her lace-clad tits in his large hands. I lift my whiskey to my lips, taking a sip. Cam’s hands work down Y/n’s back, landing on her ass. He works his hands slowly over her soft skin, giving her a little spank making Y/n moan in response.
“Fuck me,” I huff, adjusting myself in my seat. Cam pushes her to sit. Y/n looks up at him hungrily. She spreads her legs wide as Cam moves to his knees. Reaching up, Cam takes hold of the straps of Y/n’s bra, pulling each side down making her breasts bounce out.
He releases a hungry moan at the sight of her, making her blush and smile. Cam’s mouth meets Y/n skin, sucking on her nipple while his hand works on the other side, pinching and rolling her blushed skin between his fingers. Y/n throws her head back, moaning loudly, pleasure coursing straight to my cock. “Holy fuck, baby,” I groan as I hold back the temptation to join… Just gotta give ‘em a minute. Cam slides her panties to the side, lowering his mouth to her pussy. I flick my wrist, fixing my watch, catching the time.
“Fuck, Cam,” y/n whines as his tongue meets her heat. There it is… Shit. I down the rest of my drink. God, it’s like snortin’ a line. That high of hearing a woman moan like that’s too fuckin good. Cam licks a line up to her clit, his hand working higher on her legs, disappearing between my girl’s thighs.
I can hear Cam’s fingers darting quickly, driving in and out rapidly. Y/n grips the back of his buzzed head, forcing him closer. He slows his pace, making her lift her head off the pillow. She looks down at him desperately, still too unfamiliar to plead with him to speed up. I know what my girl likes. She would have already been grippin’ the sheets. Callin’ out for me. Rookie mistake.
I rise from my chair, walking toward her slowly as Cam continues to play. Y/n looks at me; lashes fluttering as he changes his approach, curling his thick fingers in her pussy. I mount the bed, moving toward her slowly. Y/n reaches for me before I can even get at her, pulling me to her lips. Her sweet tongue rolls with mine, plush lips brushing as I catch her soft moans. “Tell him what you want, princess. C’mon,” I mumble against her lips.
“Faster,” she whimpers against my lips.
“Louder—”
“Faster,” Y/n moans loudly, the sounds of her pleasure making me feel like I could bust right then and there.
“Atta girl.” Cam works her pussy quicker, the wet squelching of her cunt fills the room as her back starts to arch off the bed. “Mmm… Like that?”
“Just like that,” she cries.
“You gonna cum, baby?” I ask.
“Mmpf… Y-Yeah. I’m gonna cum.” Her voice cracks, already hoarse from her cries. “Fuck, Cam.” She bucks her hips, but my brother doesn’t let up, holding her in place, working her through her orgasm as Y/n moans and cries.
Cam licks another line up her pussy, swirling his tongue, kissing her clit. He looks up at me, chin glistening with my girl’s slick, a smug smile tugs on his lips. I give him a smirk, tapping on my watch face, completely unimpressed, making him suck his teeth and roll his eyes. His demeanor changes as he crawls toward Y/n, softening completely as he looks into her half-lidded eyes.
She’s so fucking beautiful…
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Reader’s POV:
“Come’ere,” Rafe groans, reaching out for you. His eyes roam your curves as you walk his way. “How ya doin’, princess?” He smiles as he wraps his strong arm around your waist. “This okay? You’re not just doin’ it for me. Are ya?” You shake your head. ‘No,’ Rafe responds with a sinful smile. “Take off my shirt, baby.” You pinch the bottom of his white v-neck, drawing it off his muscular body before tossing it to the floor. You wrap yourself up in his arms, taking in the familiar scent of your boyfriend.
Rafe’s lips meet your neck, kissing you roughly, marking you with his lips. He kisses his way to your ear, swirling and tugging on your lobe, breathing soft and slow, making you throb below. ”How are you so sexy?“ Rafe hums, making you moan needily for more. Rafe’s fingers drift into your hair, pulling you even closer. You reach down, stroking your hand over his clothed cock. ”You ready, baby?“ You bite your lip and nod, meeting his beautiful blue eyes. “My girl,” he chuckles lustfully; his praise making your heart pound. “You gonna be a good girl for us?” He hums as he latches onto your skin again, sucking down on your pulse point, feeling your racing heart.
“Yes, daddy,” you moan.
“Good answer… Take care of my brother. Yeah?”
“Yeah—” Before you can even say anymore, you’re whisked away by Cam, his lips colliding with yours in a passionate kiss. You slip the tips of your fingers under the elastic of his boxers, excitement building as you think back to the bar, remembering how it felt as you danced together.
Drawing back slightly, your eyes follow the indentations of his chiseled v-lines to his thick cock. Cam gives you a gentle smile, sensing your nerves. “We’ll go slow. Alright?” His fingers hook under your chin, his thumb rubbing along your jaw. You give him a little nod, returning your focus as you drag the material the rest of the way to the floor. He’s big. Almost as long as Rafe, no curve, thick and veiny: his pink swollen head, leaking at the tip. You grip him in your hand, swirling your tongue around his cock, collecting his prerelease.
“Shit,” you hear Rafe groan, looking back in his direction. He’s relaxed on the chair again, thighs spread wide; nothing left on his body but a smirk. It’s almost impossible to tear your focus away from Rafe as you take him in. He lifts his hand to his rosy lips, spitting on his palm, guiding your attention even lower. Your guide falls from his muscular chest to his tight stomach, his long, heavy cock now resting in his fist. Rafe uses his spit as lube, stroking slowly. His eyes roll back as you echo his movements on Cam. Rafe’s brother moans, tossing his head back to the ceiling. You stand up, continuing to palm his cock.
“I’ll do whatever you want, daddy,” you breathe, watching as a smile spreads on Cam’s lips. He steals the words off your tongue, taking your breath away. Cam reaches for you, drawing you even closer.
”Fuck. Call me daddy again,“ he mumbles between kisses as he peels your thong off your hips.
”Daddy,“ you whisper, scratching your fingers through his hair. Cam moans for you, taking a tighter grip on the plush of your hips.
“Mmm… And you’ll do whatever daddy wants?”
“Anything daddy wants, daddy get…”
”Suck my cock, baby girl.“ Cam wraps his hands around the back of your neck, forehead resting against yours. “Just for a bit… Then, I’m gonna fuck that pretty pussy. Shit. I bet you’re so tight, so fucking wet…” Cam guides two fingers between your thighs, gathering your essence on his fingers; cock twitching as he gets his answer. He brings his lips to his fingers, sucking them clean. ”Fuck. You’re sweet.“
Cam presses you toward the bed, knees buckling when you hit the side of the mattress, falling to your back. You crawl to the headboard as Cam continues to kiss you hungrily, tongue rolling with yours. He wraps his arms tightly around your body, moving you onto his chest.
You lean down, kissing his flushed cheeks. Moving a little lower on the bed, your lips meet his neck, hands gripping his muscular chest. You shift between his thighs, dragging your nails down his body, tracing your fingers around his cock as Rafe watches on with a smirk. Cam runs his tongue along his bottom lip as yours glides along the underside of his length, swirling around the tip, making him release a deep moan, throwing his head onto the pillow.
Cam’s large hands quickly find the back of your head, gathering your hair in a makeshift pony so he can get a better look. You wrap your lips around his thick tip, sucking gently, making his brows furrow, eyes shutting softly. Sinking low, you take as much of him as you can, spit seeping out of the corners of your lips already at his sheer girth.
”Fuckkk…“ He draws out the word, thigh muscles tightening under your hands as you deep throat his cock, choking on his shaft again and again. ”Mmm… Fuck. Rafe’s got you trained, baby. Shit,” he mutters. “Keep doin’ that.” You feel another touch. Rafe… His fingers glide through your hair at the nape as he leans in, lips brushing your ear as you continue to suck.
“We made a little bet, baby girl. Who could get you off the quickest,” Rafe groans. His other hand cracks against your ass, making you release a whiny gasp. “You think I’m gonna win? How well do you think I know this pussy, princess?” His large palms circle the fullness of your ass. “Shit…” He groans, drawing out the word as his hand meets your pussy. His arm reaches further around your hip, fingers skimming your ass, reaching as far as he can, the tips of his fingers swirling your arousal dipping into your entrance outlined.
Rafe reaches down, pushing you where he wants you. He thrusts his hips, rolling his body against yours, his rock-hard cock nestled between your thighs. You can feel the chill of the slick between your legs, making you release an eager whimper. “Need you, Rafe,” you whine, gasping as you come up for air. Cam grabs a mess of your hair, pushing you back down on his cock as Rafe tortures you with a few more hindered thrusts.
“Gonna get you good ‘n ready for my cock, baby girl,” Rafe groans as he takes hold of your curves, spreading your ass cheeks slightly. Rafe draws his hand back, slapping your bum; a satisfying clap cracks through the room. He snares your hips, towing you closer. You relax your body a little more, the sway of your spine deepening. Rafe’s rough fingers meet your clit, making you release a throaty moan onto Cam’s cock. “Such a pretty pussy,” Rafe groans as he works a little further back, toying with your entrance, running his fingers through your sticky folds before slapping your cunt. “Always so wet for me.”
“All from suckin’ my cock,” Cam grunts. You can hear the wavering in Cam’s voice as his thighs start to tremble.
Rafe starts to play with your pussy as Cam watches you put in work on his cock. “You’re gonna swallow my cum,” Cam moans the words, relishing each one. “You gonna let me stretch out your pussy? Fill you up? Hmm?” You answer with a gag, humming and hallowing your cheeks, creating a suction that makes Cam grip your hair tighter. “Gonna cum… Shit. So good at sucking cock. I’m gonna—Fuck-” His cum spurts down your throat as he moans your name, hips jostling, shuddering in overstimulation as you continue to suck. ”Goddamn, Y/n,“ Cam laughs through his panting breaths as you suck off his throbbing dick, cleaning on your lips with your finger before sucking it clean. “Fuck… I’m obsessed with you. You’re so perfect, baby,” he mumbles as he lowers himself on the mattress, one with your lips. ”I always wanted a girl like you, Y/n,“ he whispers. ”So fucking beautiful. Every part of you. Too bad my brother gotcha first.”
“That’s right,” Rafe rasps. His rough palm glides down your body, pressing down on your hip, causing you to widen your thighs. “You’re gonna be okay. A’ight, princess? I’ll go nice and slow.”
“Our girls gonna love it,” Cam mumbles against your lips. His tongue slips through your parted lips as Rafe rubs his thumb over your taut hole using your slick as lube, adding a little more, running a line of spit down, making you release a little gasp. Rafe circles a little quicker before pressing it inside, making you clutch Cam’s biceps.
“Good?” Rafe hums.
“So fucking good,” you moan. Rafe draws his finger out, pulling out a moan from your trembling lips. He presses against you again, his pointer finger replacing his thumb.
“Want me to keep goin’?”
“Yes. Fuck, Rafe… Don’t stop,” you whimper. You watch as Rafe wraps his fist around his dick as well. Your entire body starts to throb, your heart banging in your chest as he pumps his long cock at the same tempo as his finger, working in and out of you. A bead of precum drips from his swollen tip onto the comforter below. You feel heat spread across your already hot skin as he answers your question. His fat cockhead presses against your entrance, making your fingers claw into Cam’s flesh, eyes squeezed as Rafe glides his dick in your pussy. “O-Oh, Rafe. I—Mmm...” Cam grabs your cheeks, drawing you to his lips as Rafe sinks balls deep, the skin of his body pressed against yours, making you cry out. Rafe lets you adjust to his size and the new sensation before rocking into you at a familiar tempo, working his fingers in tandem with his thrusts. “Oh my god,” you gasp in ecstasy as he adds another finger, filling you fuller than before.
“Jesus Christ,” he huffs. Rafe curls his digits inside your ass, pumping both a little quicker, making you tighten around him more. “Feels so good, Y/n… Shit,” he pants between ruts.
“So good,” you cry. Rafe palms the arch of your ass with his other hand, spanking your cheek before gliding it forward, forcing your body a little lower. He feeds off your whines and moans, searching for that perfect angle to send you over the edge.
“Right there,” you cry between kisses.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Faster,” you snivel.
“Fuck, Y/n.”
”Harder,“ you plead through quivering lips. His hand takes a grip on your ass; rough thrusts with his fingers and cock making your body weak. ”Gonna cum.“
”Mmm… Squeezin’ me so tight. S-Shit,“ he stammers. You scream out his name, pussy fluttering around his length as you cum harder than you ever have before. Your toes curl tight, head falling onto the crook of Cam’s neck as you flood Rafe’s cock with your release. Your lashes beat to a close, muscles settling around him as his fingers pull out of your ass. ”Mmm…“ Rafe growls from behind you as his hand rounds your hips. He grinds his cock slowly, just rough enough to make the plush of your ass recoil.
”Felt so good, Rafey,“ you mewl in exhaustion, feeling his hand sail up the bend of your spine, raking into your hair. You gasp as Rafe yanks you off Cam’s chest, pulling you to his.
“Looks like I’m a winner, bitch,” Rafe claps back to Cam.
“No fuckin’ way,” Cam sneers.
“Hey, don’t be a sore loser. I know this pussy like the back of my hand. A’int that right, princess?”
“Yes, daddy,” you pant breathlessly.
“Think you can handle my cock, champ? You’re lookin’ pretty tired… Bet two’s outta the question. Huh?” He teases.
“Fuck that,” Cam chuckles. You release another gasp as Cam’s thumb finds your clit rubbing slow circles on top. “I’m gettin’ this pussy one way or the other.”
“Please, daddy… I want you both so bad,” you plead. Rafe smiles, using his grip on your hair to turn your head, planting a rough kiss on your lips.
“Anything for you, Y/n. Now sit on his cock, baby.”
Cam clasps your hips, hovering you over his dick. You reach between your thighs, taking him in your grasp, swirling him through your sopping folds. The tip of his cock presses against your pussy, making your whole body tremble. Your fingers clunch into your thighs as you sink on the first few inches, pausing to adjust to his size.
“You’re so f-fucking—mmm… You’re squeezing me so tight, baby. Shit,” Cam babbles. Cam pitches his hips, filling you to the brim, causing you to squeal and fall back onto Rafe. “Mmm… Couldn’t help myself, baby. Sorry,” he groans as his large hands hold your waist, not letting you move away.
“S-So big,” you whimper.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Rafe whispers against your hot skin. “You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you too, or is it too much?”
“Fuck me.”
Your body shakes in anticipation as he presses his tip against your second hole. “You ready, Y/n?” He hums.
“Yes,” you moan as you drop down slightly on Cam’s cock, inhaling sharply as his head enters you. Cam’s eyes plead with you to keep going, the desperation on his face encouraging you to take him deeper. “Shit. Holy shit!” You whine as you feel Rafe coax himself in as well. There’s a sting of pain, a slight discomfort as you work yourself even lower on Cam. You feel yourself becoming more and more full. Pressure building in your stomach; cries of pleasure free falling from your lips.
“Princess?” Rafe’s voice brings your gaze back to him. “You okay? Does it hurt?” He asks gently, moving closer than before.
“Yeah… But, fuck. J-Just. Fuck. Don’t stop.”
Rafe laughs and shakes his head. “You like that, Y/n? Shit… Our girl’s a little slut for pain, buddy?” He mumbles, lips brushing your shoulder. Your mouth drops open, eyes fluttering shut immediately as you feel both of them bottom you out.
“Gonna move now...” Cam hums. His teeth bite down on his kiss-bitten lip as he begins to thrust up into you. His fingertips dig into your skin as Rafe starts thrusting as well.
“Just a little whore for Cameron cock,” Rafe hisses, making Cam let out a breathless laugh.
”Fucking hell...“ You moan as they both begin to move in tandem, your whines and cries causing them to speed up. Cam fucks you from below as Rafe drives into you from above, both dying to bring you to your climax. Tears fill your eyes as they slam into you again and again.
”You’re taking us so well, baby. So fuckin’ well,“ Rafe praises. You try to speak, but you can’t focus on anything; every part of you numb with pleasure.
”Mmm. She loves us filling her up. She is so dumb on cock she can’t speak. Our poor little baby,” Cam rasps.
“Harder…” You pant breathlessly.
“Oh yeah, baby?” Rafe grunts, pistoning his hips, skin cracking against your ass as Cam drives his heels into the mattress fucking you from below.
“H-Harder!” You wail, nails clawing into the fronts of Rafe’s thighs, making him moan.
“Fuck, Y/n,” Rafe grunts. The two of them moan and groan and pleasure. Your vision blurs as Rafe’s hand clamps down around your throat, making your eyes cross. You hit your crescendo, reaching your highest high as you cry out for the both of them, back to back, one after the other, over and over. You feel Rafe’s body tremble, the warmth of his release filling you as Cam’s fingers brush along your clit.
“Keep doing that,” you whimper.
“Mmm… This?” Cam groans, working his digits a little faster, eyes locked on your pussy, watching as you make a wet mess on his lap. You fall into Cam’s arms, grinding slowly. The two of you move together, thighs sticky with your release. You start to lose your tempo in exhaustion. Rafe catches your hips guiding you as you roll on Cam’s cock, slamming you deep. “Shit… I’m almost there, baby,” Cam breathes. His fingers drift through your hair, tugging hard. “You’re my girl. Yeah? Gonna let me cum inside you?” He pleads, lips brushing against yours.
“Mmm… I’m your girl. Need it. Please.” Cam’s eyes slam shut, mouth falling open as he pins you in place, flooding you with his cum.
“Fuck, Y/n… Oh shit,” he cries. Rafe comes down on top of you, covering your body with his, lips connecting, kissing your neck and your shoulders anywhere and everywhere he can reach.
“I love you,“ he whispers. “Fuck, baby. I love you so much.”
”I love you, Rafey.”
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Late that night…
You bite down on your bottom lip, eyes rolling back, toes curling tight as you try to contain the pleasure building inside. A muffled moan slips your lips, causing you to cut off the noise with the palm of your hand as you use the other to grip Rafe’s dirty blonde hair. The bed shifts beside you as Cam sleeps soundly.
Rafe’s finger swirls around your entrance, the buzz of a hum grazing against your clit. You lift the covers as Rafe’s eyes flick to yours, his beautiful face buried between your thighs. His fingers curl, finding your sweet spot, making your mouth fall slack as you let out a choked cry.
A part of you wants to moan a little louder. The greedy girl in you wanting to wake up Cam as well, but you can tell that’s not what Rafe wants. Rafe wants you all to himself. He slows his pace, adding a third finger instead, making your thighs widen, back arching off the bed. You feel a familiar heat building in your core, warmth spreading across your body.
“Fuck, baby. Lemme see your ass,” Rafe groans, nipping at the plush of your inner thigh. He grabs your hips, flipping you on the mattress before lifting your hips in the air. You arch your back a little further, giving him access to your pussy as kisses your ass and thighs.
Rafe starts to eat you out from the back, drowning himself in your wet cunt as you claw the sheets. His tongue plunges into your entrance, causing you to bury your face in your pillow, quieting yourself.
The coil in your stomach starts to tighten along with your pussy around Rafe. His trained fingers rub figure eights on your clit, tongue sweeping your G-spot again and again.
“S-Shit,” you hiss the word out as he pinches your clit, tongue fucking you ruthlessly. You move away in overstimulation, but Rafe pulls you back, keeping you in place. His tongue swirls around your entrance, collecting your arousal, moaning into your cunt; fingers delighting your clit. Your bottom lip quivers as Rafe licks a fat stripe up your pussy. You cry into the pillow, fingers twisting in the fabric, using the textile to dampen your sounds.
“Rafe,” you pant breathily as your orgasm casts through your body. Your muscles clench tight; teeth gritted as you ride the waves of your bliss, pussy, fluttering around his fingers. Your ears ring; everything in the room falls out of earshot. He rolls you to your back, claiming your lips.
“I get you last… I always get you last,” Rafe whispers breathlessly against your kiss.
“Always.”
Rafe clears his throat, his face a mess of emotion as his eyes stare into yours. His rough finger brushes along your cheeks as he struggles to find the words, but they’re hard. “Princess…”
“Baby…”
“I’ve never felt like this before,” he presses out the words.
“Like what, Rafe?” You ask gently as you lean in, kissing his lips, feeling him melt at your touch. He nuzzled in a little closer, pushing his naked body against yours.
“I’m a little jealous,” he whispers weakly.
“Rafe—”
“Wait,” he stops you before you can scold him, shaking his head ‘no.’ “I’m the one that wanted this to happen. And I loved it… Watchin’ you like that, baby… It was a fuckin’ fantasy. A’ight? But, Cam, that fucker was enjoyin’ it a little too much for my liking,” he sneers as he glances over your shoulder at his brother. “I’ve just never felt like this about anyone; loved anyone like I love you, princess.”
“I love you, Rafe,” you answer earnestly, pleading with him to believe you even after tonight. It’s hard to deny the chemistry. You couldn’t lie to Rafe and say that he was wrong about Cam.
“I know, baby. I know you love me,” he mumbles as he rests his forehead against yours.
“We don’t have to do that ever again,” you soothe even though it pained you to say. “I won’t talk to Cam. I—”
“Baby girl,” he whispers. “Not necessary. A’ight? And it is happening again. I just want to make sure you really know who you belong to.” Your heart patters as he confirms what you were hoping he would. He wants this to happen again. The three of you together wasn’t just a one-time thing. You do your best to fix your face, not wanting to act too excited… I mean, he could call it off ultimately.
“I belong to you, Rafe Cameron,” you assure as you lift your leg, wrapping it over his body. Rafe takes hold of your ass, palming your curves as he looks down at you lovingly. “I already talked to Cam. Told him that I didn’t want him talkin’ to you without me.”
“Oh… What did he say?” You whisper.
“He said, ‘We’re cool. He understands. He knows you’re mine and that he never questioned it. Just told me I don’t have anything to worry about. I know that. Got nothin’ to worry about when it comes to you, honey—”
“You don’t, Rafey. M’all yours.”
“And I’m yours, princess.”
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One week later…
“Fuck. I’m gonna miss you,” Rafe hums against your lips, arms wrapped lazily around your hips. He paws at your ass, lifting the bottom of his old t-shirt, hands resting on your bare skin.
“You’re gonna do so good, baby.” You rise on your tippy toes, meeting Rafe’s lips. “Can’t wait to watch you play.”
“Mmm… I’ll call you right after. And, if we make it to Nationals, you’re coming with me. A’ight? M’Nothing without my lucky charm.”
“I’m your lucky charm?” You smile, your cheeks burning from your smile as Rafe lifts you to his level, standing straight.
“‘Course you are. I’m gonna be missing my pregame ritual, my post-game ritual… What am I gonna do without you,” he mumbles, face buried in your neck.
“Rafey,” you chuckle lightly, drawing his beautiful blues to yours before brushing his dirty blonde bangs back. “Call me when you get back to the hotel, and we can FaceTime…”
“Yeah?” He chuckles giddily as he smushes his lips against yours.
“Mhmm… Then, we can pick a movie and not watch it like we usually do.
“Shittt, baby,” he groans as he tosses his head back slightly. “I love the sound of that.” Rafe turns over his shoulder, looking toward the door as one of his teammates blares his car horn. He lets out a little annoyed grumble, returning his attention to you. “Wish me luck?”
“Mmm…” You kiss him against, lips lingering with his. “Good luck, baby.”
“My girl… This bus ride is long as shit. Phone on. A’ight? I’m gonna be bored as fuck,” he bitches as he tugs on his team jacket before looping his duffle bag over his shoulder.
“Promise,” you smile, holding the door as he passes through. Rafe steals three more kisses before bounding toward the Wrangler. You stand at the doorframe, watching as he hops in the passenger’s seat. Your phone buzzes in your pocket already, making you smile.
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Your cheeks blush as you look at the little thumbnail on your screen, Rafe’s ring-adorned hand wrapped tightly around your neck. You look up toward the car, watching as it pulls out of the driveway. Rafe gives you a smile and a wink before peeling out onto the main road.
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The notification at the top of your phone catches your attention, making your heart stop.
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Fuck.
838 notes · View notes
kikyoupdates · 11 months ago
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NSFW Alphabet | Bakugou Katsuki
NSFW Bakugou Katsuki x F!Reader
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Katsuki may not seem like the type, but he’s actually pretty attentive with his aftercare. He wants sex to be an enjoyable experience for you, as much as it is for him, and that extends to after the deed is done, too. He wants to make sure you’re not feeling any pain or discomfort. He’ll also wipe down the parts of you that he got dirty (which there’s always a lot of, because he loves to cum on you). If there’s anything you need, like a glass of water, or maybe for him to grab you some clean clothes to change into, he’ll do it. 
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Katsuki’s favorite part of himself would have to be his arms, and that also extends over to his hands. His hands are the source of his Quirk, his power, and he puts in a lot of effort into training and maintaining his physique. It proves how dedicated he is, and he can’t help but be proud of it.
His favorite part of you is your face. He just loves looking at you, to be honest. He firmly believes you’re the prettiest girl in the world. He also really loves your ass. Your face is still his favorite, but he’ll grab and slap your ass just about any chance he gets. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He tries to keep a good diet because it affects his health, and therefore, his performance as a hero. If his cum ever has a pretty distinct taste, it might be because he really likes spicy food. It’s normally nothing noticeable, though.
He loves to finish on you, and adores the sight of his cum dripping down your breasts, ass, face, etc. If you let him finish inside of you, and grace him with the sight of his seed spilling out of your pussy, he will be very, very happy.  
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He’d like to start a family one day, so he often fantasizes about impregnating you. However, he would never willingly bring this up. At least, not until the two of you have had a proper discussion about whether or not you want kids. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He isn’t experienced. It depends on when you got together, but if you met him while you were at U.A, then that means you’re his first partner. Of course, he likes to act like he’s experienced, all confident and cocky, and since he’s such a quick learner, you probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. He picks up on what you like very fast. He’s Bakugou Katsuki, after all. Everyone knows that he won’t settle for anything other than being the best. Sex is no exception. 
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
His favorites are missionary, doggy style, and mating press. He’ll usually go for doggy style if it’s a quickie, or if he’s just in the mood for rougher, more fast-paced sex. He loves being able to grass your ass and watch as his cock disappears inside of you. He does also really enjoy seeing the expressions you make during sex, which is why he likes both mating press and missionary. He can face you in either of those. Although he’ll pick missionary if he wants the moment to be more intimate. 
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Not usually goofy, but there are definitely moments where you might get him to crack up. He can actually be pretty playful in bed at times, so it’s not impossible that you might hear him let out a chuckle or two. If you’re acting super cute, or bratty, he’ll find it difficult to suppress his smile. 
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Not completely shaven, but definitely well-groomed. He doesn’t have a ton of hair growing down there to begin with, and it’s a fairly light shade of blond, similar to the hair on his head. 
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Sex is one of the times when Katsuki allows himself to be more vulnerable, and while he definitely loves for it to be fast-paced and aggressive, there are also times where he’ll take it slow and be more gentle with you. Even if he’s fucking into you without abandon, he’ll still make sure to tell you how much he loves you, and he’ll praise you near endlessly. There’s never any doubt that you mean the world to him. 
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He’ll jack off semi-regularly, but it’s mostly for stress relief, or in the moments that he isn’t able to be with you. He has a collection of nudes (and possibly videos, if you let him record you) of you on his phone, which he’ll jerk off to repeatedly. But he’d definitely much rather just have sex with you instead. 
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Dirty talk, hair pulling, overstimulation, spanking, and he also has a praise kink. 
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere at home, where he knows the two of you are in private. This can be the bedroom, up against a wall, on the couch, with you flattened onto the kitchen table, it doesn’t matter. Just as long as he knows that no one else will see you. He hates the thought of anyone else seeing you naked, exposed, or making those gorgeous expressions that are supposed to be reserved only for him. Just the thought of it pisses him off. 
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Anytime you compliment him and make him feel good about himself. Even though he tries to hide it with his ego, there are moments where he feels really insecure. He’ll often initiate sex because he’s crazy about you, but there’s just something about you coming onto him and telling him how handsome he is, how he’s an amazing hero, and so on and so forth… it just really gets him going. 
Also, he loves it when you wear skimpy clothing. Not in public, because he’ll get jealous that other people are staring at you, but if you’re just walking around the house with half your ass out, it’s guaranteed to get his dick hard. 
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
He’s okay with biting, scratching, hair pulling, and even tying you up if you ask, but he’ll never do anything extreme that involves serious pain. He’s also extremely possessive and hates the idea of anyone other than him seeing you naked, or being able to hear you moan. So, he will outright refuse any form of public sex. 
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Katsuki prefers receiving oral over giving. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy going down on you. He’ll gladly eat you out as if he’s starved for a meal, and he can never get enough of your sweet moans and the way you start shaking when you’re about to have an orgasm, but even so, watching you suck him off is probably one of the hottest things he’s ever seen. He doesn’t dare look away as you desperately try to stuff his cock in that cute little mouth of yours, and every time you strain to look up at him, with tears in your eyes, he has to resist the urge to finish right then and there. 
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Sex with Katsuki will usually be pretty fast-paced, and more than likely on the rougher side, too. He’s a very passionate guy, and sex is one of the ways that he conveys that. However, he’ll try to adjust his pace according to your preferences, and there are moments where he purposely slows down, because he wants it to be more intimate and sensual. 
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Katsuki doesn’t mind quickies, although he’d prefer to take his time with you. Still, being a pro hero is a busy job, and there’s bound to be moments where he’s in a rush, but you just look too damn good for him to keep his hands off you. 
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He doesn’t mind experimenting. As long as you don’t suggest anything that goes against what he strictly refuses (inflicting serious pain or having sex in public where others might see you), he’ll definitely keep an open mind. His goal is to make you feel good, after all. He can’t enjoy sex unless he knows you’re enjoying it too. 
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
This guy has virtually unlimited stamina. He’s one the most powerful heroes ever, and his diligence and determination is second to none. Not to mention that sex is different from fighting. He’s enjoying himself too much to worry about getting tired. Sometimes it’s actually a bit of a problem, and you end up having to beg him to stop. Even if he has to get up early for work the next day, he’ll gladly stay up all night fucking you. 
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Katsuki doesn’t own toys, and he doesn’t particularly like them either. He will refuse to ever let you use toys on him. There’s virtually no chance. Still, if there’s something you really want to do, he’ll try them out on you. Again, he wants to make you happy. If you’re super into toys in the bedroom, then he’ll make an effort to accommodate you. He just doesn’t want you to prefer toys over him. His ego wouldn’t be able to handle that. 
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He can definitely tease quite a lot. He likes dirty talk. Nothing too foul, but definitely some filthy words here and there. He won’t ever degrade you to the point that he feels disgusted by the words coming out of his own mouth, though. He’s often mistaken for a shitty person, and he doesn’t want you to think that of him. If you reassure him ahead of time that you’re okay with him saying some more extreme things, then he’ll probably do it. He just doesn’t want to take things too far and upset you. 
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He isn’t extremely loud, but he’s not that quiet either. You’ll hear him biting back moans and gasping between grunts. He’s also very vocal when it comes to dirty talk, praising you for how beautiful you are and how good you make him feel, etc. 
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
There are times when he goes out of his way to make the moment more romantic (like using scented candles, booking a fancy hotel room, preparing a nice meal for you afterwards, etc.) and he always gets a little embarrassed, worried that you’ll think it’s dumb. Which, of course, you never do. 
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He’s above 6.5 inches long, close to 7, and impressively thick, too. When he gets excited, he’ll drip a lot of pre-cum, and his cock is just slightly curved upwards, which helps to hit that sweet spot inside of you. 
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Very high sex drive. He’s the type of person who isn’t particularly sexually driven until he gets into a relationship and has someone he cares about. But since he loves you, he’ll want to fuck you every day. Multiple times, if possible. He won’t ever pressure you into having sex with him and he knows to back off when you’re not in the mood, though. 
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He tries to stay awake for as long as he can, but realistically, he’s pretty quick to fall asleep. Especially at nighttime. He has an absurdly early bedtime, after all. He loves cuddling with you afterwards, though, so even if he falls asleep before you, you’ll always have a place in his arms. 
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