#my shoulders give me less dysphoria

[aoifereal]

Man. It's crazy how much I've changed in the last year and a half. My tits are so much bigger now. I think my haircut is better. I'm bigger overall but I don't feel big in my body (a thing I used to cry about). My hairs no longer bright red. I used to have some slay feminine looks which was cool at the time even if I wouldn't want to dress that way now. I didn't know how to dress myself properly I was buttoning women's shirts all the way up lol. I was pretty in a way I don't really feel these days and I think if I looked the way I looked then now I'd be more confident going in like. Women's toilets for example.

[onlymingyus]

What's your favorite scary movie?

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

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. 

“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. 

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.

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. 

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. 

“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. 

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.” 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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.

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. 

“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.” 

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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[emma-needs-attention]

I don’t shave every day. It’s not that I don’t “need” to; I have very dark, dense facial hair that grows quickly and remains pretty visible after shaving. When I do shave, I don’t try to cover it with makeup (beyond some powder to reduce redness). In most other ways I present very feminine, but I always have fairly obvious facial hair.

And it makes me feel terrible.

I started electrolysis a couple months ago. It’s excruciatingly painful, expensive, and it takes forever. In an hour-long session, my electrologist is able to remove hair in only a small region (about 1 square inch). A few weeks later, much of that hair comes back. I am told that it will take two to three years of regular treatments to remove it entirely. On top of that, I apparently have a condition called Post Inflammatory Hyperpigmentation, which causes the skin in affected areas to darken after treatment. For nearly two months after completing a single pass over my upper lip, my mustache was more visible than it had ever been, despite having significantly less hair.

And it made me feel terrible.

I know this is the best way for me to permanently remove my facial hair, but I just canceled all of my upcoming sessions and at the moment I have no plans to begin again.

If I could pay to have my facial hair instantly and completely removed I would empty my savings account. I am intensely aware of it any time I go out in public. If it makes me so uncomfortable, why do I not do more to hide it?

I feel incredibly privileged for a trans woman. I have a loving, supportive family. I have a well-paying job. I live in a very accepting area. I have never had a single person say anything negative to me about my gender identity, which was certainly not what I was expecting when I came out. It is important to me that I be visibly queer, and in my privileged position I am able to do that without fear. A year ago I didn’t think I would ever transition; now I want people to know that I’m trans.

I am disappointed with myself for wanting to remove my facial hair, for changing my voice. I am determined not to have to do more work than a cis person does. Cis women don’t have to shave their face every day. Cis men don’t have to shave their face every day. Why should I? This is who I am, what my body does. Shouldn’t I be proud of that? Am I not supposed to love myself the way I am?

But by that logic, why am I even transitioning in the first place?

I am doing more work than a cis person does. Cis people don’t transition, and transitioning takes effort. I know that there are cis people, both men and women, who do shave every day. Am I lying to myself? I’m a trans woman; aren’t I supposed to want to get rid of my facial hair? Shouldn’t I be trying harder? Doesn’t this give me dysphoria? Am I pretending not to have dysphoria so I don’t have to put in the effort? Does the fact that I’m not trying harder make me… I don’t know, less trans? Non-binary? Is it ok for me to call myself a trans woman? Am I lying to myself?

As a woman who was a man until thirty, there are things about my body that I must accept, that I won’t be able to change no matter how much money I dump into my transition. I’m tall, I have broad shoulders, I have large hands. No amount of surgery or hormones will change these things.

But there are many things that I can change, and while none of them are requirements for being a woman, they may still be changes that I want to make. Where do I stop? Am I finished transitioning when I’ve done everything that is physically possible? My goal isn’t to “pass,�� at least not in the way that word is generally used. In a time when cis women are being assaulted because people think they’re trans—because they don’t “pass” as women—the idea of what it means to pass becomes blurry. Often when we say that we want to pass, what we really mean is that we want to be conventionally beautiful.

I am a woman. Therefore, I look like a woman. My transition goal is to pass as myself. I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out who I am so I can look like her. I don’t care whether people see me and think “that’s a woman.” I want to be able to look in the mirror and think “that’s me.” But it can be extremely difficult to separate your own image of yourself from society’s idea of what you should look like. Am I self-conscious about the size of my body because it doesn’t feel like me, or because I’ve been told that women should be smaller? There are tall cis women, there are broad-shouldered cis women, there are cis women with large hands. Those traits don’t make them less womanly.

For the aspects of my body that I do have control over, I am stuck wondering whether I am changing things to become myself, or changing them because I have internalized that the way I am is wrong. At the moment, facial feminization surgery is something that I think I might like to do. But how do I know that I want to do it for the right reasons? I don’t hate my face, but when I catch a glimpse of myself from certain angles I can’t help but think that it isn’t feminine enough. What I should be asking is if it’s Emma enough, but how can I know that? How do I know who I’m supposed to be?

I feel like I was supposed to be a cis woman, but… why? Who am I to say that I wasn’t supposed to be trans? That I wasn’t supposed to transition at thirty, to have both a male puberty and a female one? Being trans has made me more self-aware, more open-minded, more empathetic. The totality of my experience is what makes me who I am. Maybe there’s a world in which I was assigned female, maybe there’s a world in which I was put on puberty blockers as a kid. But the girl in those worlds isn’t me.

Loving yourself and wanting to change are two feelings that can coexist. I tend to think of body positivity as simply accepting yourself as you are, but it is more nuanced than that. As a trans person, who I am inside is not the same as who I am outside. Which one am I supposed to love? I do love myself, but I also love who I could be. I’m transitioning so that someday they’ll be the same person.

Over the past year I have become both my biggest supporter and my biggest critic. I constantly tell myself how pretty I am, how brave I am, how fucking cool I am (hey, nobody else is saying it and it’s true). This forced positivity has been fantastic for me. I can confidently say that I truly love myself for the first time in my life. But I sometimes feel guilty that I don’t love myself more.

I can’t help but stare at myself in the mirror all the time now. I actually bought a new mirror so I didn’t have to walk as far to do so. I’ve taken more selfies than I did in my entire pre-transition life. After many months on HRT, I finally see myself in my reflection. But my eyes refuse to focus on my stubble. Sometimes I catch myself thinking “I’m going be so beautiful once I get rid of this facial hair,” and it feels like a betrayal. Fuck you Emma, I’m already gorgeous.

[vityaposting]

jayvik x transman bf reader :3? maybe like dysphoria comfort ((maybe with a little smut if you feel like it..,,.)) anyways BLUSHES i love viktor hes the loml ^_^ (i couldnt tell if you write male reader,, sweat drop)

hi i am SO sorry this took so long!! its been a hell of a week lol but i didnt forget about i promise!! and yes ofc i write male reader, esp transmasc reader, we’re so underrepresented in the jayvik fandom frfr. i wasn’t really feeling like nsfw for this one im sorry but i have some softness and happiness instead :3

jayvik x transmasc!reader — dysphoria days (sfw) (1400)

It’s nearly midnight when you hear the apartment door creak open, and you perk up just a bit, the day’s sorrows temporarily forgotten. The sound of Jayce’s laughter hits you first. “V, you’re a menace, I’m telling you. One of these days you’ll burn the whole Academy to the ground.”

He seems surprisingly energetic considering how late it is—his gaze lights up when he sees you waiting on the couch. Viktor follows him, shoulders drooping with exhaustion, but he gives you the smallest of smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

Viktor’s chuckle is scathing, but it makes your heart flutter anyway. “And you enable my behavior, so if they throw me into Stillwater you’re coming right along with me.”

Jayce clearly sees it pointless to argue, so he turns his attention to you. “Hey there, sweetheart.” You nearly fly into the air as he flops onto the cushion next to you, but a strong arm around your shoulders keeps you still. When he places an eager kiss against your temple, you feel your face burn. “How was work?”

“We missed you,” Viktor says quietly, settling down much more gently on your other side, leaning his crutch against the coffee table. “We made wonderful progress. Do you remember that equation I was telling you about—the one Jayce couldn’t solve for the life of him?”

Jayce shoots a halfhearted glare across the couch. “You fell asleep at the workbench during three separate experiments today. You’re one to talk about my work habits.”

“And I told you I’ll rest. There are two of you and only one of me, and I know how you both get when you think I’ve been up for too long, hmm?” His head lands on your shoulder, and his hand finds yours, long, thin fingers trailing across the back. You know what he’s about to say before he says it, but you find yourself burning anyway: “Solnyshko, you are so quiet. Something’s bothering you.” It’s a statement, not a question: he’s always been perceptive. And he certainly doesn’t like being lied to.

You can’t find yourself in it to try. “It’s been a rough day, I guess,” you provide by way of an excuse.

That’s all it takes for both of your boyfriends to zero their attention on you. Viktor’s quiet determination sharpens, and his grip on your hand becomes infinitesimally stronger. Jayce seems surprised to learn there’s anything wrong at all, but he’s threading his hand through your hair before you can blink, his golden eyes wide with concern.

“Sweetheart,” Jayce breathes. “What happened?”

“Nothing, I just—nothing out of the ordinary.” You feel a bit silly now, bringing up something that has always been a thorn in your side (or a hundred or so gigantic thorns in your heart, if you want to be accurate) but it’s a bit too late to back down. “I’d… been out to get the groceries. I was so excited at first, since I knew you’d both be home tonight and we could finally spend a night in and just be together, but when I went to check out, I made the grave mistake of speaking.” You laugh humorlessly. Viktor’s brows knit with sympathy; Jayce places a reassuring kiss against the shell of your ear. “And you know what happens when I speak.”

The cashier’s cheery tone rings in your ears again: have a wonderful rest of your day, ma’am! It’s the saccharine sweetness with which the word is always said it really gets to you, because it’s never malicious. It would hurt less if it was… but all it is is a reminder that in their eyes, you are something else entirely. The world sees a lie.

One word is usually all it takes for a steady wave of agony to follow. Your voice gave you away—but was that it? It was hard to avoid self consciously tugging at your shirt, changing your gait, squaring your shoulders. All these little things you did wrong. All these little things that made the rest of the world see something that didn’t even exist. Sometimes, you feel more like an illusion than a person, floating from person to person and watching them take in your fractured reflection.

Until you get home.

You don’t realize your breath has quickened until Jayce’s strong hand cups your jaw and forces you to look right at him. “Hey,” he says. “I get it, sweet boy. I really do. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that.”

“And you are more of a man than anyone who cannot see you for who you truly are,” Viktor butts in bluntly. “You are the handsomest and most beautiful person I’ve ever had the privilege to love—don’t start, Jayce, you know what I mean.” Jayce grins, biting off his joking retort. “And loving you is such a privilege,” Viktor continues. “My wonderful boyfriends… you are my greatest joys. I don’t know who else would drag me out of that godforsaken lab in the middle of the night.”

Jayce peppers kisses from the line of your jaw up to the corner of your eye, drawing giggles out of you all the while. “I could go on and on about what makes you so wonderful. Those people don’t see you the way we do. Would they ever stop to notice how your eyes change when the light hits them? Or how your whole face goes soft when you get complimented?”

“Pretty boy,” Viktor adds, just to test this hypothesis.

“You fluster so easily,” whispers Jayce. He runs his hand through your hair, twirling a few strands around his fingers, while Viktor trails a feather-light touch up your arm. Viktor stops at your shoulder before leaning forward to press a kiss against the hollow of your throat. You can’t help but draw in a shuddering breath as your skin lights up with electricity. You’re sure you must be glowing as brightly as the hextech contraptions in their lab.

“See?” he whispers. “Beautiful. Look at you.”

You want to protest, but with all the attention being leveled at you, you find you don’t have the strength. You can only relax further as Viktor takes your hand and presses five chaste kisses against your knuckles, and as Jayce leans closer to whisper in your ear. “You know, we could spend hours showing you everything we love about you, but I think we have dinner to make, don’t we?”

You manage a short laugh. “I’m not feeling well and you two just take the opportunity to tease me?”

“Teasing you is just a bonus,” Viktor huffs. “We actually just want to make sure you eat. I know you’d get on me about not having dinner.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Vitenka. You did have lunch, right?”

He makes a little ehh noise that forces a snort out of you. Predictable as ever.

“Yeah, I even brought something up from the cafeteria,” Jayce says. “It didn’t work. How about this. I’ll do the cooking tonight, and my poor malnourished darlings can stay here and relax, hm?”

“I’d like to argue, but I don’t think tonight’s the night,” Viktor says. Tucking his head into the crook of your neck, he draws patterns against the back of your hand, humming to himself. “I am terribly in love with you,” he mutters. “It’s honestly a little surprising. The both of you hit me like an airship hits a bird in the sky.”

“That sounds gruesome,” Jayce says. He kisses your forehead once, then Viktor’s and heaves himself off the couch. “Alright. Dinnertime. V, I’ll add extra spices just for you, and…” His gaze softens as it lands on you. “I love you so much, okay? No matter what.”

His perfect golden-boy smile makes your heart melt. “I love you too.”

He gives your shoulder one last squeeze before disappearing into the kitchen. For a moment, the living room is silent, but soon Viktor clears his throat. “The world is wrong about you. I know who you are. You are so precious to us, no matter what anyone else sees when they look at you. Everything you are,” he murmurs, “and everything you will ever be, I love you, crasafchek.”

You press your cheek to his hair, grinning like a lovestruck fool, a little grateful he can’t see. The sound of clattering pots and pans echoes from the kitchen—the domesticity of it all wraps you in a quiet peace, and you may or may not drift off with Viktor in your arms before dinner is even done.

[intricate-ritualz]

trans percy looking into circe’s magic cloth mirror and seeing himself taller, with broader shoulders and a sharper jawline. he’s 13 and insecure, he’s going through the wrong puberty, and he’s looking at a version of himself that he never thought he’d get to see. he already feels out of place on the island, “where are all the dudes?” and circe is telling him that she can make this cis version of percy reality. and all he has to do is drink some potion.

“the first step is admitting that you're not happy the way you are."

he knows deep down it’s a trap, but circe’s magically aided manipulation is convincing, and maybe a part of percy wants to believe it’ll work. he knows he still has a way to go in his transition, but why should he have to wait? he’s surrounded by magical beings (including his own father) that could instantaneously put him in the right body… but choose not to. why won’t they just help him out?

“why question it? i mean, don't you want the perfect you right away?”

and here is circe, practically giving his dysphoria a name and a voice. telling him she agrees that he doesn’t have enough muscle or body hair and he isn’t tall enough and his voice isn’t deep enough. telling him these feelings are valid and it’s understandable why percy would hate himself so much, find his body so foreign. telling him there’s no need to find himself through transition, because she can make him cis. make him palatable.

“the hardest part of the makeover process is giving up control. you have to decide: do you want to trust your judgment about what you should be, or my judgment?"

and then he’s turned into a guinea pig. his body is made more wrong than it was before. how could he have been so stupid? he feels completely helpless and out of place but. doesn’t he always?

“men are pigs, percy jackson.”

but he’s still told that he isn’t the same as the other guinea pigs. he’s less feral. more docile. the perfect class pet, something to be ogled at from behind a glass wall. he doesn’t belong on circe’s island of perfect girls and women of course, but he also doesn’t belong here with the other real guinea pigs. maybe he’s actually a hamster.

“i thought about what circe had said: ‘see, percy? you've unlocked your true self!’ i still felt changed. not just because i had a sudden desire to eat lettuce. i felt jumpy, like the instinct to be a scared little animal was now a part of me. or maybe it had always been there. that's what really worried me.”

[foxgirlintestines]

The one piece of advice I can really give to younger trans girls is that you really need to embrace the parts about you that you actually liked pre-transition. There is often that crushing weight of gloom and self loathing that comes with severe dysphoria that tells you that everything about you is wrong, but that can just your mind being clouded with negative emotions, and it becomes harder to see the positives. In the end, though, you probably aren't going to become a perfect barbie doll, and that's ok, but striving to become something like that can drive you crazy.

When I first transitioned, I just wanted to be a girl, no ambiguity, just look like a stereotype. It was never really possible, I'm almost 6 and a half feet tall, and the women in my family are not thin, when I got on estrogen I gained weight fast, and it did not go to all the right places. I wallowed in bed a lot, and I just kind of kept getting worse. Oddly enough, it was getting into fetish content where less standard body types were lusted after more than regular anime proportion waifus where I started to see some of the more positive aspects of being amab. I was tall, strong, could be threatening and having a big squishy gut was actually quite attractive. I started to remember things about me when I was younger that I kind of pushed out of my mind. I was the "guy" who would run the mile in PE then casually walk along-side my friends and keep them company so that they didn't get teased, and one time I picked up my overweight friend and just carried her the last bit of the way because she was exhausted and the teacher couldn't really do anything about it because even as a young teenager I towered over him. In theater when there were heavy props to move I just lifted them up and tossed them around when we didn't have grip present. When we were out drinking in college, I was the "safety" who intimidated people so they would not try and take advantage of the drunk girls. I am big, and even if is not very feminine, I like that about me.

I changed my transition goals, I started working out again, not just cardio exercises to lose weight, but weightlifting, squats while holing a barbell, throwing around a medicine ball, and doing laps around my backyard while holding a ~150lb dead tree I ripped out of the ground while doing yardwork on my shoulder. I got healthier, I got happier, and much to my new endocrinologist's chagrin I've been gaining more weight, though now it's muscle. There are still plenty of things that I changed to be feminine, I wear my hair long, I wear girly clothes, often cute shirts with open tops that show off my large arms shoulders and cleavage, and mini-skirts. I put on make-up, lots of bold goth get-ups with heavy eyeliner black lipstick and glittery deep grey eyeshadow. Long painted nails, jewelry, hell sometimes a sparkly rhinestone tiara when I really want to ham it up, cute open toe heels when not wearing my big stompy boots, and of course the biggest one (pun intended) my massive boobs that I got the largest implants legal to be used in the US to make me busty as hell. I don't look like a barbie, and I no longer want to. I'm to the point that people often don't know whether to call me sir or ma'am, but the fact that people say sir or ma'am meekly like they are afraid of getting it wrong is way better gender confirmation than being called "lady."

I am happy now, well, at least happy with my body, there is plenty of shit in the world that still makes me depressed as hell. At least I no longer feel that dysphoria, and it makes those other things a bit more manageable. I think even if I did achieve my original transition goals, I would not be as happy with my body as I am now. You got to find that about yourself too, sometimes you will actually miss things about who you used to be, even if those times were overall worse.

As a silly little comparison, these two pictures of my fursona (which reflect my ideal body type) were made before and after I accepted the things about my body that I didn't want to change.

[new-tella-us]

Aaaaaah, I just remembered the many mental issues that these incubi are definitely facing thanks to their upbringing.

Yknow what that means. Seduce Me Situations! (Cause I'm bored) What are the many mental issues of the incubi and how to both they and Mika deal with them.

Let's get the universal thing out of the way. Daddy Issues. Every single one of these guys has a different flavor of daddy issue.

James- I have already pointed out his perfectionist but it was mostly related to how he sees others. But do not get it twisted, any form of harsh judgement he has about his brothers, he is ten times harsher on himself! He will not allow himself to enjoy a nice afternoon if everything he has to do for the day isn't done and/or everyone he's living with isn't taken care of. He is not good at coping with his, it's how he lived for so long, it's second nature to him. Mika isn't taking that though and has a lot of days set just to take the load off James's shoulders. By god, this man will relax if it's the last thing Mika does.

Erik- What is being honest about your feelings? That's a bit overrated, right? At least, Erik thinks so. It's all about how to get what he needs. He speaks with a clear end goal to the interaction and will say almost anything to get to that end goal. Over time, he will learn to be more honest but he's been this way for so long that he has to rediscover himself. And that's scary. But he's making decent progress. Mika tries to help by simply giving Erik variety. Different activities, different talking points, different locations to be in. It helps Erik know what he likes and dislikes.

Sam- Well obvious thing here is anger issues especially if we're talking about canon Sam. If we include the lore I made specifically, we get an extra issues, identity issues and cynicism! He feels like he's less of his own person and more of just a combination of his mother and father. Plus, he's seen too much violence and has convinced himself that is "the real world" and not just the darkest parts of the world. Naturally, as he's been taken out of that harsh reality, he'll come to soften up but he also has to actively not feed into his confirmation bias. Mika helps by just being a good example of how good people can thrive in the real world. Though, of all the brothers, Sam is like...the second most mentally stable.

Matthew- He has a need to prove himself to others. Also mommy issues. Probably the most mentally stable of the brothers, his issues don't cloud his life as much as it clouds theirs. Though his insecurities do get to him. Being the smallest and physically weakest of the incubi means he over compensated with his magic and reliability. And even with that, Matthew wasn't given as many chances to be reliable. A final insecurity of his would be his jealousy. Mainly of James. In Matthew's eyes, he's just as powerful as James but their father outright dismissed him. He knows that he shouldn't care what his father thinks but even if he hates the guy, parental recognition is what almost every child wants. Mika helps by reminding him of his strengths and that he doesn't need to prove himself to anyone.

Damien- What issues does that boy NOT have?? Mommy issues, daddy issues, jealousy issues, self worth issues, PTSD, body dysphoria. Okay... let me explain that last one. Damien HATES the fact that he's a demon. He feels like demons hurt people while humans are more helpful and get to learn anything they want. He also feels like he, specially, hurts people but he wouldn't be able to if he was human. Does that not sound like dysphoria? The fact that he's no where near as critical of his brothers also helps my theory. Idk, when I've felt dysphoria over some part of me, I never notice it on other people. It's less "this is bad" and more "This is bad on me" and I feel like that's what Damien is. Tbh, I don't think Damien is coping well, he's possessive and keeps most of his issues bottled up. But hey, killing his dad at least brought closure. Mika is gunna help by listening to his issues, providing a safe environment for when he wants to talk and dragging his ass to therapy. She will be there for him but she not prepared to deal with the massive amounts of physical and psychological damage that happened to that boy.

Bonus! MIKA

Cause GOD Mika deserves a break.

Once again Daddy issues. Everyone suffers from it. Mika's is just a different brand of daddy issues. Going by my specific lore, David is a lot nicer to Mika but he still is shit at making it clear that he loves her. Plus he is still trying to get her to become the next CEO. So, like James, Mika's got some perfectionism. Plus her grandfather died and she is not given enough time to grieve before she has to move into his house and go back to school. Plus the boys and all the murderers coming after them. Mika is highly stressed. And, again, going by my lore, she also has mild depression! Yaaaaaay, Mika isn't having a good time. I think all the boys provide her a very similar benefit, a person she feels like she can lean on and trust. Her friends are nice but they'll move away at some point, but the boys are here to stay.

In conclusion- Daddy Issues. All of them have it.

[kazumiwrites-fanfiction]

Everybody Wanna Take Her Heart Away

REQUEST: Hi hiii~ First off, a happy birthday to you! 🥳🎂 Wishing lots of happiness in life 💖 I've read some of your works and I really like your writing style! I saw your Mostro Lounge event and it took me a while to decide (because there's so many options that are sooo good; I'm indecisive haha) but I finally chose one! So I'm wondering if I could request F!Reader x Azul with the song "Steal My Girl" from the Azul to You playlist you made? I was thinking about a scenario where someone keeps pestering F!Reader to go out on a date with them (even if she already said no) and then Azul saves the day! Swooping in, holding you close by the waist, declaring "find another 'cause she belongs to me" (you get the reference 👀 haha) But I understand you already have a general idea for each so no worries~ Also, I'm sorry if this was long hahaha Again, happy birthday! Sending you cakes!! 🎂🎂🎂 Thank youuuu! ✨❤️ - @escha-evenstar

SUMMARY: Azul doesn't like how other people flirt with you. WORD COUNT: ~600

WARNINGS: Ace flirting(??) with you and making you uncomfortable, Ace does not get any hints, Azul is protective and a bit too jealous maybe?? Azul also maybe be a bit ooc. A/N: Okay so I'm not really comfortable with writing an explicitly female reader (it gives me gender dysphoria) so I did make this more neutral - however, I did try to make it as fem as I could, but I'm sorry if it's not specifically what you wanted! I love how I started writing this a month after your request, life's been hectic and I keep making rp blogs (to procrastinate on my homework). Someone needs to stop me. (I also started playing JP Twisted Wonderland too... I have a problem). I'm so sorry this is so late!! Thanks for the happy birthday wishes, I can't even believe I'm a year older now... Wow. For this event.

© kazumiwrites - All rights reserved; please do not steal, edit, copy, repost (etc) my work without my express permission.

Azul didn't like this.

There you were, sitting all pretty and gorgeous. And he didn't mind that - he loved seeing you.

The problem in question was with Ace.

The first year had been coming up to you what seemed like every day, asking you to go on a date.

And sure, Azul knew that you wouldn't agree - you weren't the type of person to do something like that - but that didn't mean that he wasn't jealous.

He knew that he didn't make your relationship that public. Sometimes holding hands, walking you to class… That was mostly it. Most of the Octavinelle students, as well as some of the second years, knew, but other than that? Hardly anyone.

And anyways, he didn't want you to get more attention than was necessary.

Maybe Ace didn't know, and that was why he was doing this… But surely Grim had told him. Unless Grim had a problem with him too…

He gritted his teeth as Ace sidled up to you again, a casual arm slipping around your shoulders. Though, a small smile crossed his lips as he saw you shake his arm off.

"C'mon, kantokusei. One date?" Ace nudged you gently, a grin on his face. "C'mon, I know you like me~"

Azul sighed softly, feeling a small pang in his chest. Perhaps Ace wasn't entirely wrong, and that was why you hadn't given him a hard no? Yes, he saw you push Ace away multiple times, tell him to stop… But obviously it hadn't been harsh enough to drive off Ace.

Still, a nagging feeling in him told him that perhaps you weren't able to be assertive enough to get Ace to listen. Maybe he should jump in…

Over the past couple of weeks, you had gradually grown uncomfortable around Ace. You viewed him as a friend - just that, nothing more and nothing less.

But he seemed to view you as something more. And that definitely made you feel less than friendly toward the first year.

Even as he tried to touch your arm again, you whacked his hand away. "Stop it, Ace."

"But-"

The orange-haired male was cut off as Azul walked up to the two of you, a casual arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer to him.

"What seems to be the matter?" Azul's voice, though polite, had a bit of an edge to it. His eyes were slightly narrowed, annoyance flashing in his gaze.

"Hey, I was just being friendly toward kantokusei, and teasing them a little bit-"

"That is definitely not the case, and both of us know it. Find another person because kantokusei-san belongs to me."

Azul's voice was cold - it was pretty clear that he was at his limit.

Ace seemed to back off after that, turning and walking away. You breathed a sigh of relief before you looked at Azul.

"Thank you for that," you said softly, moving to hug him tightly.

"Of course. It's my duty as your boyfriend." Azul was glad that you were happy - it seemed he had made the right call. He would have to make sure Jade and Floyd kept a closer eye on Ace… There was no telling how he could start harassing you again.

Still, as he held you close to him, he felt himself relax. Everything was fine - you were content, you were safe, and most of all? You were his.

As always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! ♡ Send your thoughts grr

This post has details for requesting. Please check it out!

[liliumsabyss]

Do u have any time for a Viktor x Ftm fluff drabble? Just smth small about Ftm reader wearing something that hugs his body and he’s not sure about it but Viktors like: god/goddess.

Calls him a pretty boy n stuff <3

Pretty Boy…

FEM DNI I SWEAR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

Viktor(Arcane) x FTM! Reader

Drabble

Word Count: 516

Tw: Mentions of Dysphoria, Tight Clothing, Unedited, and maybe OOC Viktor

A/n: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I hope you like this! Thank you so much for requesting have a good day/night!

You had been getting ready for work in the small apartment you and your partner shared. The cold wood floorboards cracked underneath your feet as you moved to the small bathroom with your clothes in hand. Walking into the bathroom the cold tile hit you feet not caring to close the door as you changed quickly into the outfit consisting of a black turtleneck and trousers that were on the tighter side. But as you finished buttoning your trousers you looked up into the rectangular mirror hung above the faucet, your face pulled into a slight grimace as you inspected the outfit, it being very form fitting. The more you stared at it the more it made you feel what you could only describe as icky the same feeling of when someone tells you something terribly wrong thats how you felt. You were caught so much into the debate of how the outfit fitted you you barely noticed your partner who’s can softly thudded as he came into the bedroom standing at the doorway observing you as you turned your body in every direction pulling at the fabric of your clothes.

“ Love?” A voice came from behind you as you turned to see Viktor standing at the doorway directly behind you.

“ Oh Hello Vik… Did you have breakfast yet?” You say trying to sound less stressed and more cheerful however still you sounded hesitant yet still worried for Viktor considering the man was so obsessed with his work he would forget what day it was.

“ You have been pulling at that outfit for five mins.” The male comments nodding his head slightly as he speaks, taking a step forward to get closer to you, being his own way of asking you what was wrong

“ It’s just, its so form fitting and it makes me feel ughh,” You say, sliding your hand down your face frustrated with yourself as Viktor only takes another step closer putting an arm around your waist pulling you against him gently.

“ I think it suits you quite well my love,” Viktor started as you stared at him putting your arms around him in a hug as he reciprocated, giving out a slight cough as he was so touchstarved he still was not quite used to contact without initiating it first. He buried his head into your shoulder trying to mask his bashfulness.

“ How did I get such a pretty boy…” Viktor mumbles under his breath genuinely asking himself, you let out a little chuckle. The male makes you forget the outfit situation in the first place.

“ Well how did I get such a handsome man?” You quip jokingly yet still serious about the quip, The two of you stood there for a little while until you both realized you were running late. The two of you hustled towards the door and down the hallway of the apartment building all the way to the front entrance quickly saying your goodbyes but as you were walking towards your job you heard Viktor mumble something only able to make part of it out.

“ Pretty boy..”

[lazywerebat]

Comforting The Uncomfortable !

Polyam! Lost Boys x TransMan! Reader

warnings; pre-t trans man reader, reader having period, reader having gender dysphoria, metions of blood, metions of period, mentions of reader having meltdown & breakdown, reader having meltdown, coming out as trans man to boys! ( if i missed anything pls let me know! )

word count; 9.6k

a/n; this is kind of self projected fic, also im on my period so i decided to write this. feeling v dysphoric too lol

would rlly appreciate if you like + reblog :)

You were getting ready for going out with your boyfriends. Boys would come pick you up since you don't own a motorcycle like they do nor you knew how to ride one.

You wore your binder, so now you could start with your outfit. After you got ready, you felt sharp pain in your stomach, you thought to yourself that you were just hungry. You felt it once again but more painful. You quickly went to bathroom hoping it isn't what you were thinking, when you went to check you saw red liquid on your boxers or what others would call it, period. Fucking hell, you forgot about that, you quickly changed your boxers and placed pad there.

You knew your boyfriends are vampires and that could smell blood but you didn't knew if they could smell period blood. You usually knew when you would got your period and told boys you couldn't make it then. You didn't plan on telling them that youre trans, you didn't knew if they will be alright with it or they would be disgusted about it, for fuck sakes you didn't even know how to tell them. You couldn't think about that without having meltdown nor breakdown. Your thoughts were distracted by sound of roars of motorcycles outside your house, it was them, you decided to act normal and just pretend you didn't have that shit.

You came outside to see them, all of you said your hi's and kisses, you went to ride with Dwayne,

“You feeling okay sweetheart?”

he asked with worry in his voice,

“I'm fine, don't worry love”

you replied to him, making sure everything is okay with you. He nodded and all of you went to boardwalk. Honestly boardwalk would be much more fun and comfortable if you didn't have this shit right now, your stomach hurt so bad, boys thinking its your hunger and trying to ask which food you would like to eat and you just kept declining,

“I'm fine, not feeling really hungry David”

you explained to him and boys with hope they stopped asking you that. You tried to enjoy night with them but you felt like you were going to collapse and have a meltdown, you just wanted to enjoy without feeling like this but with current problems you have right now, you just couldn't, probably never too. There were times when your stomach hurt so bad you wanted to hold it, you just didn't wanted boys to know that your not like them, when you would get that feeling, you would either cross your arms, put your hands in pockets or just anything besides holding your stomach. More time you spent with boys, more worried they grew with you, you never did this around them and smell of your blood would grew stronger. You were now in Pauls arms, your head on his shoulder, your arms around his waist, his arms around, he would give you forehead kisses and rub your back with his thumbs. Pain in your legs grew stronger and stronger, you just wanted to fucking cry, this shit reminded you that you were less of a man every goddamn month and you closed your legs which easied your pain little bit.

“What's wrong handsome? —”

Paul asked giving you kisses on your neck,

“— You don't seem sick.”

he stated while continuing giving you kisses, your body got closer to his, your fingers went fidgeting with bracelets that you are wearing,

“Just feeling tired Paulie, nothing serious.”

you gave him answer. Since you told him you were tired, others heard it too, they asked you if you would rather wanted to go to your place to just cuddle till your sleep, you didn't wanted to ruin their night like this, so you declined. At this point boys were worried about you, they told you all of you were going to your place and you didn't agrue with them cause it was pointless to agrue with four of them.

Once you arrived at your house, Marko went to kitchen to make you something to eat and Dwayne went to make you some tea. Paul went to your room to get your favourite blanket, David sat on couch so you would cuddle with him instead of cuddling with you went to bathroom immediately when you all came back. He thought you have to piss so he tried not to make big deal out of it, it still bothered him how you bleed and he didn't know why. You were in bathroom changing your pad cause old one had too much of you-know-what. You though to yourself that vampires infact cannot smell blood of you-know-what because they weren't asking you anything about it so that made you little euphoric. When you came back from bathroom, you went to get your cuddles from David and you just melted into his arms while one of his hands went to play with your hair. Marko and Dwayne came to rest of you, they brought you pasta Marko made and tea, you gave them a smile and started enjoying stuff they gave you. Eventually their patience with knowing why they smell blood and your stomach pains where getting uncomfortable and painful.

“Handsome, what's really wrong?”

Marko asked out of nowhere while looking at you, at that moment you stopped eating your food to look at him,

“Uh, I'm fine Marko, don't worry.”

you gave him an answer with a smile,

“Bullshit.”

denied Paul, he looked at you and you were getting confused,

“It's not.”

you said,

"Oh really? Everything's fine? Then why we can smell your blood? You gonna come up with come excuse for that one too?”

he harshly stated, your conclusion in bathroom you made, fell in water, vampires do infact can smell that kind of blood. You were silent, you didn't know what to say and they were waiting for your answer. You didn't know if you should tell them its some medical condition, that doctors don't know why it was like that or come out to them. Probably saying its some medical condition would worry them even more, so that shit won't work. Then coming out must be right answer for this, but what if they won't be fine with it? What if they won't love you anymore? What if they would thought you were weird? What if they're gonna be disgusted and wouldn't want to be around you anymore? Many thoughts of 'What if' were just coming and coming, at the end you didn't know what to say to do, so you just ran to your room, leaving plate and cup on table. You could heard them saying something but you couldn't manage to hear what it is. You closed your room door, ran in some small space, you were trying not to cry so hard but tears fell down your face, you couldn't really breath and binder is making it worse for you. You didn't want any of this to be happening! If you were born in right goddamn body, you wouldn't give a fuck about things that are happening right now, you could actually be happy with yourself and not worrying if you look like some woman or not. You just want this to end, that everybody forget that this is happening, that this is just a stupid fucked up dream. You felt arms around you grabbing you closer to that person, you couldn't manage to see which boy is from your blurry vision. They tried to calm you down, they were being gentle with you and this isn't first time they would comfort you like this. You felt that sharp pain in your stomach again and your hands immediately went to hold it. They didn't move you anywhere to not upset you even further, you felt another hand on your stomach. That hand started massaging your stomach, you also felt kisses on your face and damn all of that was calming you down. Once you calmed down, your body was placed on your bed with one of your boys. You were holding down onto that boy, others were around you making sure you felt calm and that you weren't going to have that again. After everything calmed down, your vision came back, your stomach hurt less than before. You saw you were in Marko's arms, David was on your right, Paul on your left and Dwayne wasn't in room. You were confused were he went,

“Where's Dwayne?”

you spoke with shaky voice,

“I'm here baby bat, don't worry”

Dwayne responded, you saw him coming in with glass of water and what you suppose it was, a painkiller. He handed them to you, you drank water and swallowed pill, you felt Paul giving you back rubs.

“Feeling better?”

asked David, you nodded and rested your head on Markos chest, you felt a hand playing with your hair.

“You wanna talk about it now or tomorrow night?”

Marko gently requested,

“I think now.”

you answered softly him, they didn't asked more questions or spoke anything, they waited for you to tell them all what's going on. You took a deep breath, you were going to do it once and for all,

“I know all of you already know that I'm a man but I'm not exactly a man like all of you are —”

you felt your heart racing,

“— I am a transgender man. I haven't started testosterone and I don't know when I'm going to start it. I use binder to hide my chest. I still get periods and thats why you all smelled my blood.”

you finished, you closed your eyes not wanting to see any of their reactions and you buried your head more in Marko's chest.

“Oh love.”

you heard Dwayne said that and rubbed your back.

“Transgender or not, we still want you.”

stated Paul,

“Yeah, youre still our boyfriend!”

agreed Marko,

“We wouldn't leave you no matter what.”

said David, you turned around to look at them,

“Really?”

you questioned, you saw them all nod in agreement and smile which made you smile too.

Rest of the night they were comforting you, bringing you everything so you could feel comfortable as possible. You were happy to have such accepting and supportive boyfriends. You were cuddled up in warm blankets cuddling with Dwayne, while David was massaging your stomach so it doesn't hurt that bad. Marko and Paul were trying to comfort you with coming up with comfortable names you could call your body and blood too. They all left before sun came up and you slept comfortably knowing you don't have to hide your identity from your boys anymore.

[onlymingyus]

What's your favorite scary movie? (teaser)

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) [3.4k this teaser]

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.

this fic will be released 10/28 to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here

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. 

READ THE FULL FIC NOW ON PATREON

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

[raunchyr0nnie]

Guilty Gal bedroom headcanons

Compiled my sex headcanons for the Guilty Gear ladies for fun, obviously this isn't all of them, it's the ones for Strive as well as the other ones I like the most

And like these aren't super in-depth or set in stone, they're just how I imagine em and what I think they like!

Ramlethal

-Service top

-Typically focuses on making sure her partner is taken care of

-Sex and intimacy are still something new to her so she enjoys receiving directions

-Not very picky when it comes to positions

-Really likes praise, but on the occasions where she bottoms she likes the sensory experience of temperature play

Elphelt

-Bottom

-Pillow Princess!!! Her darling should be so head over heels for her that they're willing to spoil her!

-That said, it's not like she won't put in the work when she needs to. A relationship is a partnership of equals, after all!

-Any position where she gets to look into her lover's eyes is a winner in her book

-LOOOOVES a good roleplay, she's got so many scenarios ready to go!

Dizzy

-Service Top

-Very unselfish lover, she will make sure her partner enjoys themself as much as she does

-Constant words of affirmation, telling her partner how pretty they are and how good they are

-Similar to Elphelt, loves any position where she gets to look her partner in the eyes

-Obviously good at praise and body worship, can also use her tail to great effect

May

-Top

-A lot of energy, can go for a while before she suddenly crashes

-Likes making her partner feel good!

-Handy with a strap but she can ride like the wind

-Enjoys sex in unconventional places, although not necessarily public

Giovanna

-Switch

-Very casual approach to sex, won't make a big deal or show out of asking her partner about it

-Likes being dominated but is willing to show a less experienced partner how it's done

-Lover her partner being on top of her but also likes oral a lot

-Semi-public sex is fun for her, she likes the risk

Millia

-Bottom

-Yeah I know she seems like a top at first glance but to me I think she's the type where at the end of the day she wants to be able to surrender control to someone who will make her feel good and take care of her

-That said she'll take charge and direct her partner if she needs to (her powers come in real handy here)! She can be a bit picky

-Loves being tied up, knowing that she can easily break out of it if she needs to

I-No

-Switch (girl's done it all)

-Sex, on top of being fun, is a distraction from The Horrors so her partner had better be ready to go at a moment's notice

-Definitely a selfish lover, she's more focused on her own pleasure, but with her prowess her partner typically ends up satisfied

-Anything's good by her but she'll typically go for positions where she has some control, like cowgirl

-She'll do pretty much anything but definitely has a sadistic/masochistic streak

Baiken

-Typically tops but a little more willing to bottom than you might think

-For her sex is more a physical need to fulfill so don't expect a lot in the way of romance or foreplay

-That said she's not selfish, she'll make sure her partner gets off too

-Likes it rough, so she'll gladly be on either end of doggy style

-She can dish out insults and take em too, so someone's gonna be bratty in this equation

Jack-O

-Switch

-Now that she's her own person, she's figuring out her likes and dislikes

-Her more energetic and silly personality has her more like a pillow princess, while her more reserved and insightful persona has her more willing to put in work

-Very flexible so she's a fan of having her legs over her partner's shoulders, being put in a press, etc.

-Likes experimenting but definitely very partial to using food in the bedroom (sweets of course!)

Bridget

-Bottom

-Struggles with dysphoria so if she's comfortable enough with her partner to be naked around them, that really means something

-You have to call her "good girl." You Have To

-She likes giving and receiving oral the most, but hey, she's got a nice butt too! Won't say no to getting fucked from behind

-She enjoys some light bondage, in a more established relationship she could maybe get into petplay

[blahaj-blastin]

Hi! This ask is asking for tips relating to trans stuff so you can ignore if you don’t have any! thanks

Basically, I’m a genderqueer person who might be a trans man. I cut my hair recently but unfortunately it wasn’t short enough. I was wondering if you had any tips to make hair look more stereotypically masculine?

Secondly, do you have any tips for weeding out who are Allie’s and who aren’t? I’m not exactly sure who I can be open with and studd

thanks! Have a good day

This question make me smile so much, I’m more than happy to help!

Keep in mind, this is all from my own experience, but I’ll try to include some things in here that I have heard from other people too.

To me, the most important tip is to experiment a little bit. There are always gonna be lots of different people telling you lots of different things, don’t be afraid to try a few of them. I can tell you what ended up working for me, but don’t limit yourself to just that, everyone finds their gender euphoria in different ways.

For me, it was when I started wearing dark clothes and neutral colors that really helped. Baggy clothes have helped a lot too with my body dysphoria, especially with the added help of layering. I have a couple long sleeve tees I like throwing under short sleeved ones, and button ups and jackets that can go on top, anything to help hide my form and give a darker, more masculine appearance.

I’ve talked about it a little bit before on here, but tall shoes are a good way to add a little height, and I like ones that do so subtly, like heelys (you can take out the wheel and they just look like normal sneakers, but add about two inches). I like wearing eye liner and dark eye makeup especially on the under eye, as men tend to have more defined eyebags. There’s a lot of other masc makeup tutorials out there, but as someone who is not good at makeup, that was the option I went with. More subtle things that no one really noticed, but helped me, were switching to men’s deodorant and soaps.

As for hair, it definitely depends on the texture. I kept my hair short for a long time though in fear that longer hair would make me less of a trans man. My hair isn’t too long, but it’s around shoulder length, which I was very worried about dysphoria wise, and it was hard for a moment, until I figured out how to style it. Obviously, this comes down to texture. I have very fine straighter hair, and so for me, adding a little volume, layering, and curl helped it become less of a bob, and more masculine. I don’t know the science behind that, but it helped. Layering really helped so it wasn’t just flat longer hair, it looked messier, and it also helped me to get just some medium hold pomade and slick it back slightly.

As for allies, that is honestly one of the hardest parts. I got pretty lucky in having family that I knew was open, like my siblings and cousins, and I didn’t really have many friends as a whole at the time, so I was mostly starting on a blank slate, but I did have one pretty religious friend that I was terrified about. It starts with trying to observe small things about them. Have they ever said anything about the trans community? What would their other beliefs do they that that may sway their opinion in one way or another? Have they ever talked about pronouns or gender expression? Then try bringing up transgender topics in popular news and media and see their response. With a lot of people, there may not be a definitive way to say, and a really scary jump has to be made. Just remember, that if anyone does respond poorly, it reflects on them, not you. It’s not worth keeping a secret from someone in a friendship and not living happily as yourself. The friendships you are meant to keep, will stay through this change, or they’ll come around. And yeah, losing people hurts like hell, but knowing who you can then trust to be yourself makes those good relationships all the better.

I hope this helps. If you have any more questions, don’t be afraid to ask or reach out, cause I am more than happy to help on this amazing journey of yours. Being trans and being able to find yourself in that way is a beautiful experience, even through the heartbreak and pain. More than anything, do not give up on this journey. You are so strong for taking all this on, and if you ever feel isolated, know that you are never alone, and there are always those of us out there that will support you.

Edit: Elaborating on the hair thing below the line

These are both pictures of me, a few years apart, but both pre medical transition. My hair is about the same length, only the second is a lot “messier” with more layers and using volumizing mouse and gel. Some people will also use hair irons in a certain way, it just takes a little more time.

[hyper-jam]

do you have any sleepy headcanons for securitywaiter? like what their sleeping arrangements are, do they cuddle or annoy each other, who wakes up first, etc. :0

Thank you for asking anon I will absolutely pull some sleepy headcanons out of my ass because 💥💥💥

SecurityWaiter/DreamTheory sleepy headcanons 😋😋😋

-Ness, when not on an AuDHD hyperfixation spree or working late hours, actually has a pretty good sleep schedule and can fall asleep fairly easily

-Mike on the other hand is a huge insomniac nightmare haver who can only sleep if he has help of some kind, like the nature sounds and medication in the movie (though I think in the movie the nature sounds were specifically to help trigger dreams abt that memory so idk why this fandom acts like it’s just a thing he likes but also like whatever idk- /lh)

-it takes Mike a longgg time to be comfortable enough to be willing to sleep in even the same house or room as Ness, let alone the same bed, but he eventually comes around to it. At first he is veryyy “do not touch me it’s a miracle I’m even letting you stay here like I love you but please just don’t” and Ness respects that, but as they get more comfortable with each other they become HUGE cuddlers

-Ness just likes giving affection in general so they’ve never had a problem with cuddling or anything, but Mike had to warm up to it (dysphoria + not used to this kind of affection or relationship = touch is weird) but when he does, he learns he absolutely LOVES IT

-Mike learns via hugging and cuddling Ness that he loves the deep pressure stimming that comes with it so cuddling with Ness actually helps him relax a lot. After a long day or a stressful event, he’ll come home to/invite Ness over and just cuddle with them and he’ll actually be able to fall asleep in less than an hour which for Mike is CRAZY

-Ness love love LOVES watching Mike sleep and just playing with his hair or tracing his face or rubbing his back as he’s zonked out. In part just cause he thinks Mike looks cute and in part because he likes to stay up at least a little longer to help with Mike’s nightmares. If they notice him having one, they’ll gently wake him up by whispering to him, nudging his shoulder, and kissing his face, and then they’ll comfort him until he falls asleep again

-even if Ness helps him sleep, Mike still has nightmares pretty often, and any time he has them after Ness has already fallen asleep, he usually feels too embarrassed and nervous to wake them up or anything, so he’ll usually just sit in bed for a minute, trying to relax, getting up and getting some water or going to the bathroom or something and then coming back. Ness isn’t a very heavy sleeper though so all that usually wakes them up anyways and they’ve learned what it all means so they just go straight to comforting him, making sure to tell him repeatedly that they are more than ok with Mike waking them up if he needs them (it takes a long time but he eventually gets comfortable enough to do so)

-on a normal occasion, Mike likes to be the big spoon because lowkey gender euphoria + wearing his binder means he doesn’t have to worry abt his chest being in the way and all, and Ness is fine with that, he loves his little backpack 🫶🫶🫶 /hj but when SLEEPING, Mike is the little spoon because dude needs to be held and protected for once in his life and Ness is the big spoon who is very careful not to touch his chest until given permission to do so (which takes a veryyyyyy long time lol)

-most of the time they’ll fall asleep cuddling, Mike laying his head on Ness’ chest while Ness plays with his hair, or spooning, or Ness laying on top of Mike for some extra pressure stims, but they absolutely end up a sprawled mess of tangled limbs and soft snoring after they fall asleep

-yes they both snore, Mike snores louder though, Abby HAS complained in the past (he’s not THAT loud but I can’t imagine it’d be that hard to hear given their small house. The walls are probably paper thin anyways)

-Mike almost only has nightmares or doesn’t dream at all, Ness on the other hand dreams all the time and they are the wackiest shit ever and he has a dream journal and stuff and he rambles to Mike about trying to analyze them

-Ness wakes up first, they’re an early bird and like taking care of morning stuff and helping Mike wake up and yada yada

-I still can’t decide which one is freezing cold and which one is like a human heater. Personality wise I’d say Mike is cold and Ness is warm, but like vibe that I specifically am getting is that Ness would be cold and Mike would be warm and they’d both be shocked abt it. Either way one of them is warm and one of them is cold and they cuddle to balance out but also will argue about sleeping conditions (“stop hogging the blanket” “can you turn the heat a little higher then?” “Absolutely not” “babe I’m freezing” “yeah well this is the only way I can sleep idk what to tell you”)

-Mike sleeps in a lose t shirt and shorts/boxers, Ness will too but at least Ness actually HAS pajamas and will wear them

-now that I’m thinking about it, logically idk when they’d EVER get the chance to actually sleep together, at least not without Mike changing jobs, because their work schedules are literal opposites…but let’s just…ignore that…for now…ig since Ness can kinda work whatever hours he wants, they could get their sleep like before Mike goes to work or after they take Abby to school or smth, irdk lmao

-to be fair, realistically Mike ABSOLUTELY changed jobs after the events of the movie and he canonically worked there less than a week, but it seems this fandom collectively agrees that “nah he still works at Freddy’s cause it’s funny and also like the animatronics clearly need to be watched and stuff soooo…yeah 🤗🤗🤗” which fair enough me too fuck canon /hj

-erm anyways idk what else to say for now, might make more later, you know the drill 🫶🫶🫶

[lavenderedhoney]

Any tips on helping partners deal with gender dysphoria?

This is a tricky question because dysphoria is highly personal and can be extremely different from person to person. The number one rule is talk to the other person about their boundaries and don't make assumptions about what they want - what works well for one person could be absolutely devastating for another person.

Some basic things that I think can help anybody:

Ask what language they want used for their parts. Using the wrong language can cut deep, even if it's entirely unintentional. But using the right language isn't just about avoiding dysphoria, it can also be a huge source of euphoria. My baby exclusively calls her taint her pussy, to the point where typing the word "taint" feels objectively incorrect. I almost exclusively call my clit a dick and basically only use "clit" for clarifying purposes when I think it improves readability. It's something that can be a very small change but can be extremely effective - both of these have been absolutely huge for us. Not only does it feel better to give those parts different names, but it really helps us to think of and engage with those parts in a different/less standard and gender-affirming way when we interact with each other's bodies! Language is really fucking powerful, so use it. It might feel silly at first using the "wrong" word for a body part if you've been calling it something different your whole life, but if your partner asks for it, do it.

Compliment the parts they feel good about. This might be hard if your partner has body image problems (maybe they struggle to find any parts of their body they do like), but see if there are parts that don't feel at odds with their gender and hype those up! My girlfriend loves to talk about how broad and strong my shoulders are and how handsome she thinks my face is, and I don't necessarily believe her but it still feels incredible to hear every single time. I am literally obsessed with her tits and hips and ass and I let her know as often as I can because it sends her over the moon! Compliments like this can be a really good way to not only combat dysphoria, by taking away emphasis on parts or traits that don't feel so good, but also to give a sense of euphoria.

Directly related to the last one, use adjectives and titles that affirm their gender. Some that turn me into absolute jelly, as a vaguely transmasc-ish nonbinary lesbian: handsome, prettyboy, loverboy, good boy. Some that make my girlfriend's brain turn into soup as a trans woman: beautiful, gorgeous, honey, pretty girl, pretty thing, princess, kitten, angel. Your partner/s might not know what gendered terms will sit right with them, so ask first before you call them something new!

If your partner/s want to dress a certain way or modify their body to affirm their gender (letting their hair grow/cutting it short, getting piercings, going on HRT, getting surgery), support them. It doesn't matter if it's not a change you personally find attractive. What should be most attractive to you is your partner being happy.

Lastly, I wanna talk about what personally has probably been the most effective way my girlfriend and I have helped combat each other's dysphoria. It absolutely will not be helpful for everyone, but it's done wonders for us, so I want to talk about it while being clear that this isn't gonna be an approach that works for everybody. And that's been showing extra love to the parts of each others' appearances that we know the other person is dysphoric about. I struggle with on-and-off chest dysphoria, and she has or has in the past felt dysphoric about, among others, her facial and body hair, her height, the width of her shoulders, her voice, and her dick. But instead of avoiding these parts of each other's bodies, it feels good for us when they're given extra attention. The basic acceptance in going "yeah, your body looks like this, and you're still [x gender], and you're really fucking hot" has done wonders for us both. I know she sees me as nonbinary, so it doesn't bother me and in fact is very flattering and wonderful when she can't keep her hands or her mouth off my tits. I love that she can love them without seeing me as a girl. She loves when I pet and admire her stubble and chest hair and belly hair, when I cup her pretty cock and pepper it with kisses, etc. She says the way I treat her body makes her feel beautiful and feminine, which is everything I could ever ask for.

Again, that super won't work for everyone and I do not recommend it as a one-size-fits-all solution if your partner's feeling dysphoric. I've met plenty of trans people who would hate it, who hate having the things they're dysphoric about emphasized literally at all, who would be intensely uncomfortable or angry or sick to their stomach if someone approached them like this, and that's okay. Dysphoria isn't something you can just love away and I'm not advocating for that at all (and if you think it can be, fuck you). The only reason why this works for the two of us, I think, is because we both know that while the other person loves our body, they're also completely supportive of any and all gender choices we might make. My baby is really ecstatic that I just bought my first chest binder and that I'm looking into HRT options to increase the size of my dick, and I'm super excited that her tits have gotten bigger lately and that her figure is still changing. It's all-accepting acceptance, or it wouldn't be worth anything.

If you have any tips to add, please share them!

[elvenbeard]

Call

Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfic Summary: V finally opens up about his newest post-Mikoshi symptoms weighing him down. Kerry suggests a "bring-your-merc-to-work"-day to distract them both from the doom and gloom and the anxiety about an outstanding phone call. (Post-Sun-Ending, mostly canon-compliant, Chapter 6/?, 6790 words, Kerry Eurodyne/V, mentions of drug use, smoking, body dysphoria) - notes at the end!

>> Previous Chapter >> Read from the Beginning

Kerry nearly dropped his guitar at the faint sound of V’s ringtone upstairs. At first, he hadn’t even fully registered it as the phone, himself on the sofa downstairs as he strummed away, trying to figure out a good bridge for a song that had been giving him trouble. He’d had this guitar, an old-fashioned acoustic one, since the early 2000s, and he only just caught himself from tossing it as he jumped to his feet. Nibbles perked up, ears folding back and eyes wide as he stormed past her towards the stairs, taking two steps at once. By the time he reached the upper floor, the phone had gone silent already. V sat at the edge of their bed, their eyes met. V was startled for a moment, pupils glowing golden from accepting the holocall. Kerry froze. He took a few deep breaths in a futile attempt to calm his racing heart somehow, hand clinging to the stair-rail still. But V’s posture was surprisingly relaxed, and Kerry’s tension as well dissolved when he began to speak.

“Hey, River,” V said, smiling.

“Fuck…” Kerry exhaled, shoulders dropping. Then he slowly trotted over to sit on the bed beside V.

“Yeah, no, I’d been meanin’ to call you back,” V continued, “No, I’m alright just… Been a couple of crazy busy days. I’ll tell you the details next time we meet in person.”

Kerry put his hand on V’s thigh and listened to the conversation quietly in thought. The sandstorm had almost passed by now, but it was getting dark outside – well, dark for Night City standards at least. They’d both dozed off earlier after their shower quickie, but Kerry was woken up again soon after by a nightmare he thankfully didn’t remember. Glad to not have stirred V as well he had then decided to let him sleep and snuck downstairs. Still, V looked awfully tired, dark circles under his eyes just not fading at all anymore. He soon wouldn’t even need his beloved smudged eyeliner…

“Sure yes, I’ll do,” V said to River on the holo, then turned to look at Kerry with a gentle smile, “River says hi.”

“Hi back at him. And at Joss and the kids,” Kerry nodded, and V delivered the greetings promptly.

“Okay,” he then said, “Yes, take care, too. See ya!”

The call ended and V sighed, tossing his phone back on the nightstand, and in the same movement grabbed his pill bottles. One with the painkillers prescribed by the hospital, one from Vik to help alleviate his post-relic symptoms.

“Forgot to put the fuckin’ thing on mute,” V muttered struggling to open the bottles with one hand. Kerry gently took the pill bottles without a word, opened them, and handed V one pill each. He swallowed them both at once before taking the bottles again from Kerry to set them back down.

“Sleep well at least?” Kerry made sure.

“Sorta,” V groaned hoarsely, stretching very slowly and carefully, “My head is killing me. Can barely move either. But I’m a little less tired than before at least.”

“Small mercies,” Kerry just said, gently rubbing V’s back, “Do you… wanna rest some more? Or are you hungry? I could go for a bite actually, order somethin’ real quick. Or… I think maybe there’s still pizza in the freezer, too…”

V looked away, gaze drifting out of the window and across the dust-covered cityscape.

“I’m not really hungry, no,” he said after a couple of moments.

“Doubt that sorry excuse for a breakfast was so filling…” Kerry frowned.

“No, I’m just… ah, I dunno.”

He sat slightly slumped forward, kind of cute with his fresh-out-of-bed hair, naked apart from their towel and blanket loosely wrapped around his hips still… but it was pretty obvious that something was bothering him.

“Talk to me, V,” Kerry said calmly, his hand still on V’s back, expecting to be urged to launch their next investigation of the penthouse for Mr. B’s tech.

V slowly turned his head back to look at him.

“Even if it’s Mikoshi again?”

Kerry was surprised, not only about the topic, but at how carefully V asked… almost as if he feared to be rejected.

“Especially then,” Kerry said firmly.

True… it was always Mikoshi. Or at least V’s worries and troubles often boiled down to what had happened there. No wonder. Kerry knew the rough rundown of the night, and that it hurt V to talk about certain details, about what Alt had had to do him and Johnny in particular. Kerry never dared to ask for clarification on some specifics despite not quite understanding them, because he didn’t want to poke around in an open wound.

Ironically, Johnny and V had never even gotten along that well. It had been a constant back and forth, a love-hate relationship if Kerry had ever seen one. It hadn’t been much different between Johnny and Kerry himself, Johnny and everyone else, really... It’s just how he had been like, self-absorbed, confrontational sometimes purely out of spite and in ignorance of his own feelings (and fuck, if that wasn’t something Kerry could only understand too well by now). V and Kerry had talked about what Alt’s plan had entailed before he’d even decided to follow through with it, before there was even any mention of “we’ll storm Arasaka Tower in an improvised suicide mission”. At the time, due to their difficult relationship, V had been fully on board with getting Johnny out of his head, whatever it would take, still waiting for an offer from the Arasakas themselves.

Despite Silverhand’s asshole behavior though, all his faults… he’d left a lasting impact on both their lives. It had taken Kerry half a century to mourn and get over his loss for a reason, but despite their decades-long friendship, he and Johnny had never been as close as what V and Johnny had developed over the course of just a few months. V wouldn’t admit it, but he missed the annoying voice of unreason in his head a lot. His words when Kerry found him on Corpo Plaza that night still echoed through Kerry’s head, full of fear and despair and regret…

“He’s gone… and it was all for nothing.”

In a way, even now still, Kerry somewhat envied Johnny for the connection he’d had with V, wished sometimes he could just read V’s mind and see what was going on in his head when V struggled to find the words, like so often lately... Thankfully, it wasn’t necessary this time around with V breaking the silence.

“Ever since I walked out of Mikoshi, I’ve felt this… disconnect. It’s hard to describe,” V began slowly.

Kerry hesitated.

“You said you… didn’t recognize yourself in the mirror sometimes? As in, literally?”

Anxiety began to slowly drive its claws into his chest.

“Yes and no…” V looked at his hands resting in his lap, “It’s like… logically I know this is my body. Has always been, and hell, haven’t I battled with it before... I guess what comes closest is some sort of body dysphoria… but also not?”

He paused, looked up at Kerry briefly, then out the window again.

“Like, before I figured out I was trans, it was similar, but not quite the same... Fuck, it’s like, somethin’ small is off, I just can’t put my finger on it. Like an itch on the inside of your skull you can impossibly scratch.”

Kerry didn’t know what to say that he hadn’t already said before; that doctors hadn’t told them yet either. All he felt he could do was sit here and listen. V continued.

“I’m wondering if this is what Alt meant when she said Soulkiller would… kill my soul. Leave me nothing but a cluster of memories and thoughts… A blurry copy of myself, trapped in a body so adjusted to Johnny already that it would’ve been smarter to just – …”

He choked on his words, and Kerry’s own throat grew tight at the sight of V slumping forward again and covering his face with his hands. He didn’t cry. In fact, it was dead silent between them, but that was almost worse. Kerry still had his hand on V’s back, gently caressing in circles.

“What can I do, V?” he asked hoarsely after a while, cause hell, if there was anything... V sighed and shrugged, but kept his face covered.

“I don’t know,” he then mumbled, “I’m no longer fighting the Relic, but my own body is fighting me now. I wonder if this is what it was like for Johnny. For him it got better over time but for me… it’s slowly gonna get worse.”

“What… is getting worse, exactly?” Kerry almost didn’t dare to ask. This was the most they’d spoken about V’s health in such detail in… forever, probably. Not surrounded by doctors flinging around medical terms, both of them relatively calm and not too overwhelmed by stress and emotion, in the safety of their home... if they truly weren’t secretly spied on by Blue-Eyes.

V slowly lowered his hands and sat up straight again.

“It’s like… I’m growing number to my own feelings, little by little,” he then said, staring out the window, the orange glow outside reflected in his hazel eyes like embers.

“Johnny described it once as this sort of delay... I’d, dunno, bump my toe somewhere, but he’d only feel the pain five seconds later. But what I’m feeling now is not quite that, even though it sometimes comes close. I’m not really hungry anymore, not how I used to be, unless I’m actually starving. I’m not as scared of physical dangers anymore, not how I used to be… It’s like someone dulled down my sense of self-preservation. I’m like an addict that needs a larger dose, a bigger kick, to be able to feel the effects of the drugs still… but make the drugs all the little things that make you human.”

Kerry pondered this for a couple of moments, let it sink in.

“And it’s like that… with everything?” he carefully asked. V shook his head briefly, flinching sightly, his healthy hand shooting up to the back of his hurting neck.

“Not with everything, no. Physical pain, for some reason,” he said with a smirk, “Cause I’m lucky like that. It’s also not affecting my feelings for you, they haven’t changed or dulled…”

He hesitated.

“But I’m scared shitless that if this… progresses, I will grow numb for you, too. For everyone and everything I care about… I’m scared that maybe it’s already begun, with what you said earlier that I… just went through with Mr. B’s plan without many second thoughts, without telling you. Not because he manipulated me, but because I’m becoming numb to the possible consequences of my actions...”

“V, no, that… yeah, I was mad at you earlier but, that’s not what I meant,” Kerry tried to relativize.

“No, no, it’s okay,” V said with a sad smile, “I’m glad you said it, because if you hadn’t... Maybe I’m just doing all this shit because it still makes me feel alive when I’m already dead inside. Resting and positive thinking alone don’t really do the trick when it comes to trying to feel something still.”

There was a long heavy pause.

“Ah, fuck…” V then just sighed, “I hate all of this so much.”

He rubbed his eyes and then leaned against Kerry’s shoulder, and Kerry held him close.

“I know… me too.”

They ended up ordering food after all that evening, something nice and spicy from their favorite Mexican restaurant, real high-quality, ‘ganic comfort food… But it was still a rather gloomy, quiet night beyond that.

By the time the sun began to rise the next morning, Kerry had already been lying awake for an hour or so and watched V in his sleep. At least when he slept, he seemed at peace still – it was enough that he had been living one nightmare after the other for the better part of six months now, since that first fateful heist.

When they sat in the kitchen together for breakfast over their first cups of coffee later, Kerry kept catching himself anxiously staring at V’s phone, ready for it to go off any moment again. He wasn’t even sure whether he wanted Blue-Eyes to call or not. He worried that whatever he’d promised V to save his life would turn out to be yet another dead end, be attached to countless strings – or maybe turn out to be a lie altogether. But if he didn’t call… he was scared that that would finally break V, having risked so much, wasted so much time for empty promises… Had himself be used again without any payoff whatsoever, led on by the dangling carrot on a stick called “miracle cure”, “more time with your loved ones”, “a chance at life as such” and all the other things he and Kerry both were so desperately hoping for.

Not only to distract himself from his depressing thought-spiral, but also in hopes of cheering V up at least a little bit, he made a suggestion.

“Since you’re basically on sick leave now, would ya wanna come to the studio with me later?” he asked.

Finally, V’s smile returned.

“Think Lee is gonna survive me showing up there unannounced?”

Kerry chuckled.

“He better gets used to it, ‘cause I’m not planning on bringing anyone else anytime soon,” he said.

“What’re you working on today?” V asked, drinking from his mug and setting it back down between them.

“Mostly fine-tuning some stuff with ‘Shivers’… the transition from the chorus to the second verse kinda sucks still. We gotta work something out.”

“So, they still wanna go with that as the first single?” V asked frowning, and Kerry sighed.

“Yeah… I mean, it’s a fuckin’ good song. It’s gonna be a hit for sure,” he said, trying to sound enthusiastic, “Still would’ve liked ‘Vision of your Memories’ better as the first release. But they say the title’s too long, it’s too calm, too different from what the fans are used from me. As if that’s not the point of the whole damn album…”

He made a throwaway gesture and then also downed the rest of his coffee.

“No point arguing, they’re gonna do what they’re gonna do anyway.”

“And Lee can’t put in a word for you?” V asked and Kerry couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, seriously,” V insisted, “He’s your fuckin’ manager, apparently, and yet…”

“… and yet, he only works for the label, still,” Kerry finished the thought, “Managers that actually fight on the side of the artists they sign are wishful thinkin’... But he’s still better than Kovachek.”

“Anyone would’ve been better than Kovachek,” V laughed dryly as they then got up from the counter to get dressed for the day.

V had been to the studio that belonged to MSM Records a handful of times before, usually just briefly stopping by with “real” coffee, between gigs that led him into the area anyway. The building sat right at the district border between Charter Hill and Japantown, only just part of the former, and not far away from Dark Matter. All in all, it was as well ridiculously close to the corporate apartments at Grant Avenue that V had grown up in. Both him and Kerry still waited for some old photo or video to surface in which they’d both been caught in at the same time, completely unaware of the other’s existence.

Kerry took the lead as they entered the building from the underground parking garage, through the security scanner, past the reception desk and towards the elevators. It wasn’t particularly busy this morning, the only person really that noted their existence was the perpetually smiling receptionist greeting them. Both the entrance hall as well as the floor they were headed to screamed generic corpo-chic. Clean, sleek, not quite as dark as Arasaka had been, but just as imposing. The floor on the level with the recording booths featured light carpet with a golden, geometric pattern, interrupted by the MSM logo every couple of yards. The tall, dark-grey walls were indirectly lit with embedded, golden neon stripes creating triangular shapes and showcased the label’s most successful album and single releases of recent years. In passing V spotted “Second Conflict” and both Kerry’s and Us Cracks’ versions of “User Friendly”. The hallway split after about 30 feet and Kerry turned left, headed towards the recording booth booked for him today. V followed closely.

“Urgh, could be that halfway through some marketing gonks show up with merch mockups,” Kerry grumbled and pulled out his phone, “Lee just updated my schedule.”

“Oh, so I can get an exclusive sneak peek of all the stuff I can buy with your name on it in a couple of weeks?”

“My name and my face even, if they get their will,” Kerry sighed, “Never been much a fan of slappin’ my mug on t-shirts.”

“’s a pretty mug though. Wouldn’t mind seeing it all around me all the time,” V tried to console him, fearing he would remain correct about the label people doing whatever they wanted anyway. Marketing liked to give you the illusion of being an active participant in the decision-making process while in the background the higher ups had long made all their choices.

Kerry threw him a brief smile as they entered the recording booth.

It was one of the smaller booths V had been to so far, used predominantly for recording vocals. There were bigger ones that fit entire bands, and a level below them were several for recording whole orchestras even, according to Kerry. The room was separated into two areas. There was the actual booth, behind soundproof glass, with sound-insulated walls, and all the technical equipment to actually record music. In the front area, which was almost three times the size of the booth, there was the mixer console, computers, and all the other tech needed to modify the raw sound, as well as a little lounge area with sofas, a coffee maker, and some shelves storing additional equipment and showcasing some more famous albums the label had produced.

On a big white office chair by the console sat Vicki, one of the producers V had met before, and he could feel some of Kerry’s tension drop. Vicki was around 60 years old and had worked with Kerry pretty much since the first day of her internship at MSM and all the way through her ascension in ranks to producer. So, there was at least someone here today that knew what she was doing, in Kerry’s words. Engaged in a conversation with her and seated on one of the two large beige leather sofas in the corner were two sound engineers that worked as Vicki’s assistants. V had met them before, but only in passing, so he didn’t know their names. They probably were somewhere between himself and Vicki in age.

Vicki’s pale green eyes lit up when Kerry entered the room, and she got up from her chair to give him a brief hug.

“Hi, Kerry, so glad you could make it, I know it’s early today, but I thought better get this done sooner rather than later, right?” she said, words like rapid-fire.

“If I had my way, we’d just fuckin’ leave ‘Shivers’ on the backburner for a bit until I figure out what I wanna do with it,” Kerry grumbled, “But you know how it is.”

Vicki stepped back and patted Kerry on the shoulder.

“I know, I know… Let’s make the best out of it, right?”

 Then she turned to V, flinging a long strand of her hair, dyed pitch-black, over her shoulder.

“V, right?” she asked, smiling brightly as she extended a hand with similarly long black nails.

“Vicki, nice to see you again,” V said and reciprocated her handshake.

“Dang it, Kerry, you gotta tell me sometime how you two met, such a gentleman! Do you have an older brother, or a sister maybe, V?” Vicki laughed, voice raspy and loud. She was quite the character, in her all-black leather gear with beige faux-fur collar and sparkly studs all over, but most people in Kerry’s world seemed to be. Unlike most of them though, Vicki also really knew what she was doing. As soon as she sat down behind the mixing console all the extravagant loudness faded and was replaced by cool professionalism and long-honed skill.

“Make yourself comfortable, I gotta feeling we’ll be here for a while today,” Vicki said gesturing towards the sofas before turning back to Kerry, “And you siddown and jack in so we can go through the parts that have been bothering you, alright?”

Both V and Kerry did what they were told, as Vicki truly would be the one holding the reigns here today. The two sound engineers got up and joined Vicki and Kerry by the mixing console and followed her instructions closely as she listened to the demo of the song with Kerry, pausing now and then when they got to a part that bothered him. V watched this all closely and with great interest. He’d learned to play the piano as a kid, mostly because his father wanted him to, but he was far from calling himself a musician. Still, he was fascinated by Kerry’s knowledge and passion for his craft, only understanding little of what he referred to (probably also given the fact that only he and Vicki and the engineers were able to hear the music while V wasn’t). Still, he was deeply impressed and… yeah, very proud, however weird that may have sounded spoken out loud. He was proud of Kerry being so damn good at making awesome music with a message and deeper meaning. V wouldn’t even know where to start, even if he wanted to.

“Okay, okay, okay, I think the problem here is not the melody as such,” Vicki said after about 10 minutes of intense revision, “I think we’re missing a beat or two… you kinda expect there to be something here that then never happens, listen again… Throws you off. Make sense?”

“Yeah… yeah it does,” Kerry nodded after a few seconds of pondering, “So, change the lyrics?”

“We could just drop the ‘gives you’, it’s an easy fix, no need to re-record, just edit it out.”

“Ah, I dunno,” Kerry was unimpressed by the suggestion, crossed his arms.

The discussion continued a little while longer, the two old musicians beginning to get lost in the details, each change they suggested leading to adjustments that then led to further disagreements from the other or new problems as a whole. V could only imagine how this would have gone down during Samurai times, with not two but five people with wildly different opinions clashing like this – Kerry and Johnny alone would have probably caused enough disagreements on their own. And yet, their success at the time spoke for itself – maybe a little bit of fighting over melody and rhythm was necessary to make a great song. Watching these two now go back and forth was a welcome distraction to V as well, seated on the sofa still, elbows resting on his thighs… but his phone clutched expectantly in his right hand.

“Okay, y’know what… Let’s just re-record this bit. We’re runnin’ round in circles,” Kerry then said with annoyance, jacked out of the mixing console and got up from his chair.

“The whole chorus?” Vicki asked frowning.

“Can also do the whole fuckin’ song if you wanna,” Kerry shrugged.

“Let’s start with the chorus, show me what you mean,” she said calmly, and Kerry was halfway through the door into the recording booth already, “Don’t you wanna do some warm-up first?”

“What, I’ve been warming up the past hour with you already,” Kerry teased and closed the door behind himself. Vicki made a disapproving noise and turned to look at V, pointing at Kerry with her thumb.

“Is he like that at home, too?”

V smiled and motioned that his lips were sealed when it came to their private life, and Vicki just nodded understandingly.

“Thought so,” she said and turned back around to switch on a few more screens of the truly massive mixing console in front of her. V got up from the sofa now to be able to watch Kerry still, as he was barely visible anymore in the booth from his seated position. Kerry had put on headphones, even though he wouldn’t even need to with his implants. He’d told V once he preferred them still for old times’ sake. He was pacing around the booth now in a small circle, stretching and, by the looks of it, doing some vocal exercises after all. V couldn’t hear him, but the sight alone made his heart beat faster, Kerry so in his element, so full of passion for something that was not in a way self-destructive. V was still lowkey mad that he didn’t have any clear memories of the Samurai reunion gig, but then again… maybe it was for the best.

After a couple of minutes of warmup Kerry positioned himself by his microphone. His bright eyes met with V’s across the pop filter and Kerry grinned. It was infectious. Then he turned to Vicki, saying something only she could hear via the intercom.

“Oh! Yeah, can do,” she said and turned around to V, “Wanna listen in, too?”

“Would I be allowed to?” V asked, still vividly remembering the hissy fit about signing NDAs Lee threw the first time he had stopped by here. But at the same time, he jumped at every opportunity to hear Kerry sing.

“Hey, I’m in charge here today,” Vicki grinned, “Francine, go and fetch him some headphones… Or do you have an audio implant?”

“’fraid not,” V shook his head, then one of the audio engineers jumped from her seat to look through the equipment shelf, handing V a pair of high-end studio headphones.

“I’ll sync you up in a moment,” she said.

“Thanks,” V replied and put them on. Kerry had begun pacing around the booth again while Vicki finalized some settings on her console.

“Yeah, yeah, they’ll surely approve of that,” she muttered in an amused tone. In the next second there was a slight crackling on V’s ears and finally he heard Kerry quietly singing, so up-close and clear that it gave him goosebumps... Then he realized he was improvising all sorts of profanities directed at the label bosses to the melody of “Archangel”. V couldn’t help but laugh, and Kerry spun around to look at V.

“Whaddaya think, this would make a good bonus track, right?”

“I love it,” V snickered.

“See! It’s a preem idea,” Kerry shrugged.

“C’mon now, let’s get started,” Vicki chuckled and gave the okay to start recording.

V kept himself in the background, but listening to Kerry sing like this was certainly a treat he hadn’t expected to ever get. He was very particular about who would be allowed to hear songs that were still in progress – not out of some artistic superiority complex, V was certain. Kerry wouldn’t admit it, but he was sure it was plain old self-consciousness about his works in progress. V respected his decision to keep everything a secret until it was polished enough, even though he would love to hear what he’d been working on so hard these past few months. But maybe him being here for this today was a first step in the right direction at least.

They recorded three or four new versions of the chorus, all with minor differences between them. Kerry and Vicki were in the middle of deciding which one to choose to move forward with. Then an incoming holocall tore V out of the so far slow and peaceful morning.

“Oh fuck, now?” he muttered at the sight of “Unknown Caller ID” in the corner of his interface. He took off is headphones and handed them back to Francine, only just overhearing Kerry ask, “What’s wrong?”

V pulled out his phone.

“I’ll be right back, important call!” he said and slipped into the hallway.

Reception was bad within the building, so V quickly walked to the nearby stairs that would lead him to the rooftop lounge. He’d been up there with Kerry a handful of times for a coffee or smoke break. His phone kept ringing, but V’s hurting legs weren’t really cooperating with him as he tried to climb up all the way to the roof in a timely manner. His chest burned just from breathing and his head was pounding despite the painkillers, the cascading echo of his steps in the mostly metal stairwell not helping. Halfway up he decided to just accept the call, hoping that no one would be waiting for him at the top or hear him on the levels below.

“Yes, hello?” he said, out of breath and full of anticipation and anxiety.

“Yes, hello, stranger,” was the reply that V had not expected at all. Neither the voice. He froze and couldn’t speak until all that still reverberated around him was his own heartbeat.

“Judy?” he then asked, in disbelief.

“Oh, so you do still know who I am, good!” she said, tone not entirely serious, “Hope I’m interrupting an important Fixer meeting? Client talks? A secret gig?”

Yup, definitely not Mr. Blue-Eyes.

“Why’s your caller ID blocked?” V decided to ask once he’d accepted that this would become an entirely different conversation than he had expected.

“’Cause I was worried you wouldn’t pick up otherwise. You didn’t the last couple of times.”

“Ugh… sorry, I… I’d been meaning to call you back, but…”

“It’s been a horribly busy couple o’ days, I know,” she then said slightly mockingly, and V couldn’t help but laugh at his own predictability.

The sun greeted him as he finally opened the door to the lounge, as did the wind and a breathtaking view across Charter Hill. Not quite as impressive as from the Dark Matter, but still a sight to behold. A couple of lounge chairs were arranged around a whirlpool and bar area currently closed off, and fake bamboo framed the whole space, giving it some privacy. The label occasionally threw wild parties here, or so Kerry had told him. V grabbed one of the smaller lounge chairs and moved it closer to the railing overlooking the city.

“Everything good? You sound a bit… winded,” Judy asked.

“Yeah, I…” V tried to come up with an excuse… but what was the point, really?

“I had a car accident, two days ago,” he decided to tell her.

“Fuck, V, shit… Really? Fuck… You okay?”

“All things considered, yeah. Was lucky for once,” he said and carefully sat down, “I’m a bit bruised up all over, but I’ve been a lot worse. Nothin’ I won’t recover from.”

Then he turned on his holo display to finally be able to see Judy. It appeared she was sitting on the roof of her van, tall red rock formations behind her. It was quite windy there, too, her hair blowing across her face as she kept trying to tuck it behind her ear without success.

“Hello again, properly now,” he said, and she grinned. She did seem so much happier, at ease, far away from Night City, a little more every time they spoke… regardless, he really missed their late-night in-person chats on the rooftop of her apartment building. Having her around and close by to knock some sense into him now and then would really make a difference right about now.

“Damn, buddy, you look like shit,” she said, still smiling, but not without the faintest frown appearing on her forehead.

“Thanks. Likewise.”

“Aww,” Judy chuckled, “Didn’t your parents teach you not to lie?”

“No,” V said nonchalantly, “They encouraged it, actually.”

She laughed.

“But for real, V, you look tired as hell. That can’t be just from the accident. What’s goin’ on?”

V wouldn’t even know where to begin. He’d been keeping Judy somewhat up to date, whenever she asked and actually wanted to know… but obviously also not on anything concerning Blue-Eyes and the Crystal Palace gig.

“Same old story, Judy,” he eventually settled on, “I’m dying and trying to figure out a way not to. Yet, at least.”

Judy’s expression grew slightly darker again, and she pulled her legs closer, shifting in her seat slightly.

“So, even Kerry’s doctors couldn’t do anything? What about Panam, I thought she was trying to think of something, too? Find someone that could help down in Arizona?”

“Last I heard from Panam was they’d have to go radio silent for a little while,” V said, “Trouble with the Raffen, again. Last time we spoke though there was nothing new on her end either.”

“Fuuuck…” Judy cursed under her breath.

Even though they were hundreds of miles apart, for a moment it felt like they were back together on that rooftop, the same wind tugging on their clothes and hair, the same sun shining down on them.

“Don’t get mad if I suggest something,” Judy then said quietly.

“I’m too tired to get mad,” V said without thinking, but really, it was true.

Judy hesitated a few more moments, looking over her shoulder, and V believed to see glistening water behind her, the Pacific probably. Then she turned back to look at him.

“What if… you’d just let it happen,” she said, voice quiet and slightly shaky, “And shit, I’m not saying this lightly but… You’re destroying yourself over this. I hate watching you run into dead ends over and over again, with no progress.”

“You mean, my time was borrowed anyway, and I should just accept it’s time to give it back?” V asked, trying his best not to sound too judgmental.

Judy said no word, just nodded. V looked to his feet, then back up at the sky. He took a deep breath.

“Not like it hasn’t crossed my mind yet,” he admitted then, “I have… one more option available right now, but if that also leads to nothing… I’m running out of time as is.”

“That’s what I mean,” Judy said, “You’re running and running… but maybe you just can’t outrun this. You’re just exhausting yourself. Chasing something that might not exist. You and me both know Night City’s great promises….”

“I know…” V said quietly.

“Why not spend the time you have left actually living,” she added after a moment, “Instead of running yourself into the ground even faster…”

They sat in silence for a few moments, just listening to the wind, and V was sure now to hear the crashing ocean waves on Judy’s end. She’d invited him to tag along a handful of times already, even if only for a while… but even though he sometimes wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to leave Night City. Not yet at least… and not without Kerry.

“Easier said than done,” he said eventually, “You know me.”

“Yeah, I do,” Judy laughed weakly, “Hell-bent on getting your way, whatever it takes.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say whatever it takes…” V tried to reason but Judy shook her head vehemently.

“Nope, we’re not having this discussion again,” she laughed, then paused briefly once more, “But anyway, let’s drop the doom and gloom… I called not only to check in on you. Wanted to ask if you have time around the… 15th?”

“Around the 15th, or on the 15th?”

“Oh, shut up!” Judy grumbled, but was smiling again, “Block off the whole week if you gotta, Mr. Important. But… yeah, I’ll pass through NC. And I thought, if you have time, we could hang. Rooftop pizza and all included.”

“Really?” V smiled, “Yeah, of course, would be awesome!”

“Nova,” Judy said, “Then hang in there until I’m back at least to punch you in the shoulder one more time for being a gonk.”

“Wouldn’t wanna pass that up,” V said.

Judy nodded.

“Alright… V, I gotta go now if I wanna make it to my destination before sunset. But it was really good to see you again.”

“Likewise, Judy,” V said, “Next time in person. Lemme know when you actually get here.”

“I will keep you posted,” she said, “Take care, and – damn who am I tellin’ this – but still: be careful who you put your trust in.”

With a little wave and wink she ended the call.

V sighed, lowered his phone and his head and closed his eyes. Just letting it happen, let madness and death come take him… In the end it would boil down to exactly this most likely, no matter what he did to postpone it. But that was it… All he wanted was a little more time. Not even necessarily for his own sake at this point, but for Kerry… give him a little more time to adjust, gain some more stability back in his life so he would be able to better cope with inevitably losing him to this mess. And give himself the time to cope with the fact that he’d leave the love of his life behind at 28, all the unlikely friends he’d made, that he’d achieved so much and yet so little that truly mattered in the grand scheme of things…

As if he’d summoned him by thinking this the door to the stairwell swung open and Kerry appeared from the shadows.

“Heeeey… was it… him?” he asked slowly as he stepped closer, carefully almost.

“Judy,” V grinned, waving his phone briefly before sliding it into his back pocket.

“Ah, fuck,” Kerry sighed, but again seemed somewhat relieved. He stopped right next to V, leaned against the railing overlooking the city as well, and then pulled out his cigarettes.

“You gotta start calling people back, I can’t take these jump scares anymore.”

“I really gotta,” V smiled quietly and got up from his chair to hug Kerry from behind, resting his chin on his left shoulder to follow his gaze.

“What’d she want?” Kerry asked with a cigarette in his mouth, needing a couple of attempts to light it in the strong winds up here. V reached around to help shield the lighter’s tiny flame with his hands.

“Check in on me,” V said, “Aaand… she’s gonna come to Night City sometime next week.”

Kerry made a surprised humming noise, then wriggled to turn around, trying not to blow the smoke of his first drag into V’s face in his excitement, which proved to be rather difficult. V suppressed a cough and leaned back a little until Kerry had figured out how he wanted to position himself now.

“Sorry, babe,” he said sheepishly, lowering the cigarette, “But… you’re meanin’ I’ll finally get to meet the famous Judy? My man’s best friend that skipped town before I even knew he existed?”

“I’d hope so, yeah,” V smiled, but at the same time his heart was heavy still from the topic of their conversation.

“Preem,” Kerry said and took another drag, this time a bit more mindful of how closely they stood, leaning back against the rail now, “Somethin’ to look forward to, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” V nodded.

Kerry breathed out another plume of smoke, looking up to the sky, exposing his neck and shimmering implants to V… and V couldn’t resist and placed a quick kiss right where Kerry’s Adams apple would have been, eliciting a raspy chuckle from somewhere beneath the warm, smooth, black metal.

“Sneaky. Stealin’ kisses, too, now, huh?” Kerry asked and leaned in to capture V’s lips, his tongue tasting of bitter smoke and coffee, soft and raw at the same time. V clung to Kerry’s jacket for a moment, then let his hands slide underneath it and along his slim waist, annoyed by the barrier his t-shirt created between his skin and V’s fingertips.

“Been told I’m the best when it comes to stealin’ all manners of things,” he whispered against Kerry’s mouth.

“Can confirm,” Kerry chuckled, “Stole my heart, too. Didn’t even notice ‘til it was too late.”

He leaned in again, deepened their kiss, and V closed his eyes and tried to just enjoy the moment – live his life for once, instead of worrying about the future. The taste of Kerry’s lips, his hot breath, his hand on his waist trailing down to the small of his back pulling V snugly against him, warm and soft and strong, holding him as they were both embraced by the sun and wind… and of course, right then and there, V’s phone started ringing again.

Unknown Caller ID.

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>> Next Chapter

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Notes:

Thanks so much for reading! I know this was a long one (and I was half tempted to split it into two chapters where the POV changed, but ended up keeping it all in one because it's all about the uncertainty and aaahhh! So yeah XD)

Also, this really was an excuse to write some Kerry in the studio fluff, which I'd wanted to do for a long time :3 Also, there's so many drawing ideas in this chapter hhhhhh... The day needs more hours for all the stuff I wanna draw with them xD

Next time there's gonna be some more action again!

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