#really is a shame that angst and horror are my favorite genres | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

onlymingyus · 1 month ago

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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

#vernon smut #seventeen smut #svthub #svt smut #vernon angst #seventeen angst #svt angst #vernon toxic #seventeen toxic #svt toxic #vernon horror #seventeen horror #svt horror #vernon x reader #hansol x reader #hansol smut #seventeen #svt x reader #seventeen xreader

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sunflowerseob · 1 month ago

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Nightmare on Ex Street | Choi Taeyang

Exes can really be a terror. Especially at a Halloween party with all your friends where you can't seem to stay away from each other...

Piwontober Day 17

Prompt: face fucking/shame/guilt with choi taeyang

🎃 Pairing: ex!choitaeyang x reader

🎃 Word Count: 4.1k

🎃 Genre: Smut, pwp, some angst and drama, fluff

🎃 Rating: 18+

🎃 Warnings: Concerned besties Jiung and Seob, explicit language, consumption of alcohol (pls drink responsibly ‼️), Taeyang in his A concept fit deserves its own warning, tension, dom!taeyang, teasing, dirty talk, we love secretly hooking up with our ex behind all our friends' backs 🤭, making out, scratching, hair pulling, marking, biting, groping, grinding, praise, explicit sexual content, fingering, crying, cum eating, brief handjob, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, face fucking, it's a little fluffy and also chaotic at the end 🤩

A/N: Happy Kinktober everyone 👻 Hope you enjoy my fic for day 17 as part of @kisseobie and @sxfterhearts Piwontober event 🎃 This is my smut writing debut for Piwon so thank you so much for reading if you do 🥰

Thanks so much to the other half of my Potheoto @hakuheartsoul for being the best beta and my #1 supporter and encourager 🥹 I feel so lucky to get to write with my favorite person ilysm 💜💜💜

Lastly I am a slut for Greek Mythology and there's some basic references with the costumes in this fic so here's a quick little guide:

- Reader: Aphrodite (Goddess of love, beauty, and sexuality and also Ares's lover)

- Taeyang: Ares (God of War and also Aphrodite's lover)

- Jongseob: Thanatos (Personification of death)

- Shota: Hades (God of the dead)

- Jiung: Artemis (Goddess of the hunt and sister of Apollo)

- Intak: Apollo (God of the sun and brother of Artemis)

- Keeho: Athena (Goddess of wisdom)

Masterlist

“You sure you’re gonna be okay going tonight?” Jiung asked you, and it was impossible to miss the worry in your friend’s voice.

You turned away from Jongseob, whose eyeliner you were currently doing, to frown at the other man, “Why wouldn’t I be, Ji?”

Jiung’s cheeks flushed and he started fidgeting nervously.

“You know, just because, uh, he’s gonna be there.”

Your frown deepened as you looked down at your other friend to gauge his reaction. Jongseob didn’t seem quite as determined to voice his concern, but you could still see the uncertainty that flashed across his face. They were sweet to worry, really, but you were going to be just fine tonight.

“Guys,” you started, crossing your arms over your chest, “Taeyang and I have been broken up for two months now. I’m fine. I promise.”

Leaving no more room for argument, you focused your attention back on your friend’s make up. You heard the intake of breath behind you as Jiung opened his mouth to say something else, but you were quickly cutting him off.

“Jiung, if you make me fuck up Seob’s make up, then I’ll make sure you’re going to this party as a dead man.”

He offered no more comments, and Jongseob was definitely way too intimidated now to try to add anything. There was nothing to worry about though, truly.

As far as you were concerned, you were going to stay as far away from Taeyang tonight as possible. It might’ve been Halloween, but you sure as hell weren’t planning on letting tonight turn into some kind of horror shit show. No. Tonight, for all intents and purposes, Taeyang was as good as dead to you.

“Happy Halloween bitches!” Keeho greeted the three of you, smoking drink already in hand as he opened the door wider to let you slip inside the house.

“Holy shit Kee.” you remarked softly as you took in your surroundings.

He had gone all out with fake spiderwebs, fog machines, projections, and a variety of Halloween decor. The ash haired man smirked proudly, “You like?”

“Dude, it’s even better than last year!” Jiung exclaimed excitedly, his eyes lit up like a kid’s in a candy store.

Keeho beamed at the compliment, and you were happy to see him so happy.

“The costumes are sick by the way! Thanks for staying on theme this year. Wait until you see the others. Shota really committed this year.” he informed you, and your other friend strolled into the room almost as if he had been summoned.

The theme for the annual Halloween party this year had been gods and goddesses. You had come as Aphrodite, Jiung was Artemis, and Jongseob was Thanatos. Judging by the owl circlet on your host’s head, he was dressed as Athena. Shota gave the appearance of gliding across the floor as he came over to join everyone.

You, Jiung, and Jongseob all let out audible gasps as you took in his Hades costume. He looked like a reaper incarnate in his pitch black toga, complete with a long, billowing cloak to match. His newly dyed silver hair and dark and smokey makeup elevated the look even more. You also noticed the hoop in his nose that hadn’t been there the last time you’d seen him.

“Sho, you look amazing oh my god!!” you gushed, and his cheeks tinted at the compliment.

“Dude,” Jongseob piped up, gesturing between himself and Shota, “we did the accidental twin thing, again.”

Seob’s costume was much more gray toned, and he had a prop scythe, but their overall looks were extremely similar.

“You guys say accidental every year, but you do realize none of us believe that you don’t purposely coordinate costumes, right?” Jiung teased, and you and Keeho nodded in agreement.

The “twins” just stood there pouting at the three of you. You nearly jumped out of your skin when someone suddenly came up behind you and threw an arm around you and Jiung, “They’re not the only ones with the matching costume agenda this year.”

You resisted the urge to punch Intak for his unannounced arrival as you took in his white toga adorned with a giant golden sun pin. The bronze laurels in his fluffy, honey blonde hair further confirmed his costume choice as Apollo.

“Awww, you and Ji match this year. How cute.” you voiced, reaching up to ruffle the hair on both of their heads.

They quickly ducked away from you, Jiung readjusting his crown of silver moons. Intak was chuckling softly, and you raised your eyebrows at him in confusion.

“I wasn’t talking about me and Jiung. I meant you because Taeyang came as-”

“Ares.”

All of you whirled around at the sound of the new, but familiar voice. Any coherent thought flew right out of your head at the sight of the man leaning in the corner against the wall. He had come as Ares all right.

Your eyes trailed over the chunky black combat boots tucked into a pair of dark splatter patterned jeans, and your breathing hitched as your gaze traveled further up. Was the man fucking insane??

The black tank. The leather jacket completely embellished with metal rings that hung on his broad frame in a way that was practically criminal. The fake dagger clutched in his hand. The layers of chains littering his stupid neck. And the icing on the fucking cake. The blazing crimson hair that had a slightly wet look to it that was so infuriatingly sexy that it made you want to stab the man with his own weapon.

Everyone nervously looked between you and the man in the corner, who now had a very subtle smirk on his face. The tension became even more noticeable as he started making his way over to you. So much for the avoiding him at all costs strategy. Not that you would’ve been able to help it anyway when he looked like that. Oh you were so going to kill him.

You did your best to remain indifferent, externally at least, as he came to stand in front of you. He had always been taller than you, but his boots were making him tower over you even more than usual. You could feel everyone’s eyes on the two of you. It was like your friends were all waiting to see if a bomb would go off, and honestly, you couldn’t really blame them.

With him up close now you took notice of the striking silver makeup under one of his eyes. It made it look like he was crying liquid metal. He looked so breathtaking tonight, and it made you want to scream.

“Aphrodite.” he greeted you, and you didn’t miss the way his dark eyes swept over your figure.

God. You were going to rip off his costume and fuck him right there in front of everyone.

“Taeyang.” you said back simply as you continued to pretend like you could care less.

“Nice costume.” he remarked, somehow making the two words sound like some kind of foreplay.

Before you could offer any kind of reply, Keeho was pushing his way between the two of you with a giant bowl of candy, “Okaaaaaay, I think it’s time to go hand out candy! Everyone follow me outside!”

Intak and Shota were already grabbing Taeyang to drag him away, and you felt Jiung and Jongseob’s hands on your back as they did the same.

“We have nothing to worry about huh?” Jiung queried, giving you a knowing look.

“That really didn’t seem like nothing Y/N…” Seob added from your other side.

“Guys. I said I would be fine, and I am. I’m. Fine. Just drop it, please.” you hissed as the three of you stepped back out into the night.

Trick or treaters were already beginning to swarm Keeho’s yard, and soon there was a line all the way down the driveway. Keeho and Intak were manning the candy, which was beginning to rapidly disappear. You saw Shota and Taeyang standing off to the side and commenting on all the kids' costumes. Your ex’s loud and familiar laughter reached your ears, and your chest tightened at the sound.

“I’m gonna go back in and grab a drink really quick, do you guys want anything?” you asked your two friends who still hadn’t left your side.

They both shook their heads, and you turned to head back inside. You risked a glance at Taeyang as you passed by, only to find his eyes already on you, practically burning right through you. You shivered before quickly looking away and slipping through the front door. As soon as it closed behind you, you braced yourself against it and took several deep breaths.

“This cannot be fucking happening.” you groaned quietly as you did your best to clear your head.

You spotted the smoking cauldron that Keeho always used for his special signature Halloween cocktail and took hurried steps over to it. Keeho was never willing to give up the recipe, but his drinks were always the perfect mix of delicious and guaranteed to fuck you up fast. You poured yourself a glass and took a small sip. As always you could barely taste the alcohol, and you resisted the urge to down the rest of your drink. With all the variables tonight, that would probably be a terrible idea…

You decided to indulge in some of the food that was laid out on the long table instead, swiping a cupcake with bright orange frosting. You had just taken a huge bite, when you heard the front door swinging open. And of fucking course it was Taeyang. He blinked at you in surprise, and you quickly swallowed the cake in your mouth.

“What are, what are you doing here?”

“Keeho sent me to grab some more bags of candy. The kids out there are ruthless, we’re already almost out.”

You just nodded as your eyes darted down to the table. You could still feel Taeyang watching you, and you waited to see if he was going to approach you. He only hesitated for another moment before disappearing into the kitchen to retrieve the extra bags of candy and exiting the way he had come. You downed some more of your drink as soon as you heard the door close behind him, and finished off your cupcake in a few more bites.

Maybe you were getting all worked up for nothing. Maybe Taeyang was just as determined to stay away from you tonight. Maybe you had finally gotten through to each other and last time had really been the last time.

You barely registered the door opening again, too consumed by your wandering thoughts. Red suddenly invaded your vision, and you looked up to see the man who had been the subject of your mental spiral staring down at you.

“Y/N, you’re not avoiding me are you?” he asked, his tone teasing.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course not.” you replied defensively, and hopefully convincingly.

Strong fingers gripped your chin to hold you in place as Taeyang forced you to meet his sultry gaze, “Tell me the truth.”

“Taeyang. Don’t.” you whispered even though you could already feel your resolve beginning to crumble in his intoxicating presence.

“Don’t what?” he questioned innocently, leaning close enough that you could feel his warm breath on your face.

“We’re broken up.” you reminded him, but your hands twitched as you fought against the urge to reach out and touch him.

“I’m well aware. That didn’t stop us a few weeks ago though, now did it? Or the time before that. Or the time before that. Or any of the times really…” he went on taunting you, a devilish glint in his eyes as they slowly traveled down the length of your body.

Oh fucking hell.

“Taeyang,” you started, hating the way your voice was noticeably shaky, “we can’t keep doing this. We agreed. Last time was the last time.”

The red haired demon hummed in response, and you felt torn between wanting to punch him and wanting to kiss him until neither of you could breathe. Your entire body tensed when his lips just barely swiped your cheek on the way to your ear, “You know, thinking back on it, I’m a little fuzzy on just what I agreed to. It was a little hard to hear with your pretty thighs wrapped around my head. Not to mention over the sound of you crying my name over and over again.”

Your knees nearly buckled, and Taeyang steadied you, his free hand on your waist.

“Tae…please.” you begged as you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

His gaze was focused on your lips, and you felt like you were burning alive from the inside out. His thumb lightly brushed your bottom lip before pressing harder to smear something across your mouth. You gasped softly. The frosting.

“Oh angel, look at this filthy mouth. My girl is so messy.” Taeyang remarked, his thumb prodding at the seam between your lips.

You didn’t even think before sucking the digit into your mouth, your tongue taking care of the remaining frosting. Taeyang groaned, the hand on your waist scrunching up the thin fabric of your costume, “Fuck. There’s my girl.”

The whimper that escaped you was an inevitable betrayal. Really, the two of you had been set up for failure from the moment you’d laid eyes on each other tonight. Your ex was like a black hole, and it was pointless to fight against the way he sucked you back in every time.

Taeyang let his thumb slip from your mouth, choosing instead to let his hand curl possessively around your neck.

“Tae.” you breathed, your pulse racing.

He smirked, knowing you were done trying to fight him, and pulled you flush against him in one fluid motion. He was already partially hard, and you were quickly on your way to going out of your mind with want.

“You gonna let me have a taste, angel?” Taeyang murmured against your lips, “Need to hear you say yes.”

“Yes.” came your swift reply, your voice raspy.

A growl started low in his throat, and his teeth grazed your top lip.

“But not here.” you finished before pulling back to intertwine one of his hands with yours.

You began pulling him down the hall, both of you giggling like giddy teenagers. You felt drunk, and not on whatever Keeho had put in that cauldron, but on Taeyang.

He let out the cutest little sound of surprise when you yanked him through one of the open doors into the darkness of the bathroom. You didn’t even allow the man a moment to breathe before you had him backed up against the door, your lips urgently crashing against his.

Taeyang grunted as he desperately chased your mouth. Your greedy hands made quick work of pulling his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms, and the red haired man hissed when your nails dug into his bare skin. His fingers tangled in your dress as he pulled you closer, tongue slipping between your lips to taste you. You moaned into the kiss, mouth falling open and giving him better access.

“I can’t believe, fuck, you would come dressed like that just to torture me. So unfair, Tae.” you panted into his mouth, hands traveling to tug at the crimson strands that were causing said torture.

Taeyang groaned, harshly nipping your bottom lip before you felt his mouth searing along your jaw.

“What’s unfair, angel, is you showing up looking so unbelievably sexy when we both know I’m not supposed to touch you. Immediately wanted to rip this little dress of yours to shreds.” he voiced as his tongue and teeth marked up your neck.

Your hands slid under his tank and up his back, making Taeyang shiver. He grabbed your ass through the material of your costume, and encouraged you to grind against him. You cried out at the stimulation, bracing your hands on either side of Taeyang, and accidentally flipping the light switch in the process. You suddenly broke away from each other as light flooded the room, both of you breathing hard and fast.

You stared at each other, taking in the swollen lips, blown out eyes, disheveled clothing, and messy hair. For a split second you thought maybe this was where things would end for the night. That maybe facing what you were doing in the light would bring forth the guilt and shame, and it would be too much. Your heart was already fracturing just thinking about it.

But you didn’t have to think long because Taeyang gripped your waist and lifted you onto the counter, your back pressing against the cool mirror. His strong hands wrapped around your thighs, pushing your legs apart as he came to stand in between them.

“My Aphrodite.” he said softly, fingers sliding teasingly under your dress.

You squirmed on the counter as Taeyang’s hot mouth descended on your chest, one hand reaching up to roughly tug down your costume and expose your breasts.

He stepped back for a moment, gaze ravenous as his eyes drank you in.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful. My goddess.” he whispered, sounding almost in awe.

His thumb gently brushed one of your nipples, and you sighed in content. Taeyang wasted no time before leaning forward to wrap his lips around the perked bud, making you moan obscenely as your head fell back against the mirror. His tongue lapped at you while his fingers trailed dangerously higher, and you wanted to crawl out of your skin from all the sensations.

“Tae, please,” you groaned, weakly tugging at his hair, “need you.”

The smirk against your skin was your only warning before his digits dipped inside your panties to meet your slick folds.

“You’re fucking soaked, angel. Shit.”

Taeyang pulled back to watch you as you wiggled back and forth on the counter. His eyes were hazy, but they never left your face as he slid a single finger inside. You immediately let out a cry and shut your eyes at the feeling.

“Eyes on me, angel. And don’t you dare look away.” Taeyang commanded before slipping in a second finger, making your body jerk in response.

As soon as you opened your eyes, you immediately were on the verge of coming undone. The man in front of you had his full focus on you as he pumped his digits in and out.

“Always take my fingers so well. Like you were made for me.” he remarked, and you clenched around his fingers.

“Tae…too much…can’t…” you babbled, the addition of his intense gaze completely overwhelming you.

“You can take it, angel. I know you can. Wanna feel you come all over my fingers.” Taeyang encouraged before stretching you out even further with a third finger, this one adorned with a ring.

“Tae, fuck!” you exclaimed, your body jerking at the feeling of the cool metal.

The red haired man chuckled darkly, “Not so loud, angel. Don’t want our friends to catch us now do we?”

Despite his words, his fingers fucked into you faster, and you whimpered pathetically.

“I’ll have to give you something else to do with that mouth if you can’t stay quiet.” he teased you further, the grin on his face bordering on sinister.

Tears filled your eyes, a series of hiccuping sobs escaping you.

“You know I love to see you cry for me, angel. But can’t have you giving us away.”

Your next cry was silenced by Taeyang shoving two of his fingers from his free hand past your lips. Tears continued to slip down your cheeks, but your sobs were much more muffled now.

“That’s it, angel. That’s my good girl.”

His saccharine praise pushed you that much closer to the edge, and your walls spasmed around his digits. The first stroke of his thumb over your clit had a scream tearing from your throat, but Taeyang pressed down on your tongue simultaneously, and it dissolved into a gag instead. Your orgasm washed over you a moment later, and he pulled his fingers from your mouth before reconnecting your lips. He fucked you through your high as he swallowed all of your sounds, your body shaking with the aftershocks.

As soon as Taeyang withdrew his fingers, he was immediately sliding them into his own mouth to suck them clean and moaning at your taste. The sight made you feel dizzy, and your insides got all tingly. Gentle hands tugged your dress back up before smoothing out the material. Taeyang looked so pleased with himself as he carefully helped you back down from the counter, making your chest feel tight.

“We should probably get back out there…” you trailed off awkwardly.

The man next to you let out a nervous laugh, “You go ahead. I’ll be out in a minute…”

Taeyang shifted uncomfortably, and you stared at him in confusion. But then you realized the source of his discomfort when you noticed the straining bulge in his dark jeans.

“Tae, let me.” you found yourself offering before you could think better of it.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes blew out, but even so, he was shaking his head.

“No, it’s okay, angel. You’re right, we should get back out there.” he insisted as he started for the door.

He made a grab for the handle, and you flipped him around to face you, caging him against the door once again. You pulled his ear between your teeth, making him gasp softly.

“Tae, I have been dying to get on my knees for you all night. So, baby, please. Let. Me.”

As you spoke, one of your hands trailed down to palm him through his jeans.

“Fuck, angel. I’m not gonna last long.” Taeyang groaned, pushing against your hand.

“It’s okay, baby. We’ll be quick.” you assured him before sinking to your knees.

Your hands worked fast as you tugged down his jeans and boxers in one go, and his hard cock sprung up against his stomach. You gave him a few teasing pumps before slowly taking him into your mouth. Taeyang swore as he tipped his head back against the door. You set a quick pace from the start, and the man above you hissed as his hands tangled into your hair.

“My angel really does have a filthy mouth, shit. My goddess. You’re so fucking good.”

You suddenly took him all the way to the back of your throat, and something in Taeyang snapped. He roughly yanked your hair to pull your head back to look up at him, “Gonna fuck this perfect mouth, angel. And I know my good girl can take it.”

He gave a sharp snap of his hips as he began thrusting into your mouth, making you sputter and gag around him.

“That’s it, angel. Take it. Fuck, always look so gorgeous with your pretty lips around my cock.”

All you could do was whimper while he continued to abuse your throat. Taeyang was a beautiful panting mess above you. As always, you were mesmerized by the way his eyes fluttered and how his chest rose and fell in quick succession. Tears streamed down your face as you continued to choke on him. His thrusts grew more stuttered, and you saw him bite down on his black tank to muffle his building moans.

“Close…angel. Fuck…I love you.”

Your heart gave a painful squeeze in your chest. You obviously couldn’t say it back, but you still hoped he could see it in your eyes. I love you.

Taeyang cried out, his nails scratching against your scalp, before you felt him filling your mouth with his release. You made sure to swallow it all down, and then pulled off of him with a pop. The only sound in the bathroom was both of your labored breathing as you tried to make yourselves look as presentable as possible. You stepped out first, and glanced down the hall. When you didn’t see anyone, you let Taeyang know it was safe to come out.

The two of you exchanged shy smiles before walking back towards the living room. Taeyang reached over to take your hand, and you let him. It seemed neither of you were quite ready to let go of the moment yet.

“Hey, Y/N,” he started, and you stopped to look up at him, “maybe we should talk. Really talk.”

You considered it for a moment before answering, “Yeah, maybe we should.”

“I think we definitely should.”

You and Taeyang jumped away from each other at the sound of Keeho’s voice. When you poked your head into the living room, you were met with the sight of all your friends sitting around staring at you, intervention style.

Well shit.

#choi taeyang #p1harmony #p1harmony smut #choi taeyang smut #choi taeyang x reader #piwontober24 #p1harmony fic

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 2 months ago

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I just.. really love writing grotesque shit. Horror has always been my favorite genre, even in drawing.

#thank you for interacting with me #yandere #yandere x reader #monster #monster fucker #monster x reader #yandere monster

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wandringaesthetic · 3 months ago

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Top 5 JRPGs

So in order to answer this question I had to have a few existential crises. First: what is a JRPG (we just don't know)? I'm going with the more purist answer here since we're narrowing it down to 5. So no action RPGs or tactical RPGs. Second: do I just put down my personal favorites here? because that's going to be 4 Final Fantasy games and idk Suikoden II, probably, and that's not very interesting. I don't really believe in objective quality, but at the moment I find it interesting to take a stab at it or at least name things I think are genuinely very good and polished and have relatively universal appeal. In the end, ugh, whatever, here's a list:

Final Fantasy VII - this is the one that made me fall in love with the genre. I don't have much to say about it that hasn't already been said. I will say, while I mostly like Remake/Rebirth there's something about the original they're never going to catch, and there's a lot to be said about being (relatively) more succinct and focused and leaving some things to the imagination.

Dragon Quest V - This is as good as the UrJRPG series gets. Charming and funny and bright and occasionally tragic. It's about growing up and family and perseverance. It did the monster recruitment thing before Pokemon. I played the Super Famicom version via fan translation and emulation, so I don't know if the remake(s?) of this have quite the same charm. It's helpful for older games to look their age so you can put them in the context of their time, I think. I feel like relatively few people in the west have played this one, which is a shame because it's the missing piece in the influences of Lufia, Earthbound, Chrono Trigger, possibly even Pokemon. Really fun, really solid game that was genuinely touching and made me feel childlike wonder.

Suikoden II - I first played this one when I was in college and Going Through It, and I've been meaning to replay it ever since. So, my memories are a little muddled but I'm going to do my best. Two boys take diverging paths to the same end. A war story that takes on a human scale by developing a huge cast of characters and by having your base grow around you. It takes one of the most interesting middle chapter twists I can think of in a video game. It's one of the best looking and sounding sprite based games to exist. It has an iron chef cooking mini game.

Shadow Hearts Covenant - balances between horror and quirkiness. Atypical setting (in the shadows of IRL World War I). Atypical protagonist with many demons, literal and metaphorical. Really good gameplay. Takes the FFX conditional turn based thing, where you can see the turn order and where some skills alter it, and runs with it. Timed hits, but it's customizable so you can make the system more or less forgiving and balance risk/reward with precise inputs versus guaranteed, but lower, accuracy. Adds up to a really fun game. Vibes are immaculate. Cast is great. But I cannot speak to how good the plot is because I don't remember most of it. It and the rest of the series have never been ported or remade and likely never will be. Keep circulating the tapes.

Chrono Trigger - I mean if you're only going to play one JRPG this is the one. The love child of Final Fantasy and Dragon Quest, with the bright, fun adventure qualities of DQ and the scifi/fantasy fusion and existential angst of FF. Did gameplay stuff it took other games decades to do and did it better. One of the best looking SNES games. The music makes me feel feelings I can't name. I paradoxically think it's overrated even though I'm putting it on the list, because it's not a personal favorite and I don't think anything in the world lives up to the hype around this game. It is very good, however, and a distillation of the genre.

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catboygirling · 1 year ago

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🍠, 🍥, and 🍚!

🍠 How long does it take you to write one of your fics or a chapter/part?

I have no good answer for this because I have no fucking idea. a single-scene drabble can get done in a single sitting sometimes, or up to a week or two. anything longer is just. up to god, I guess. could take a month. or three. or six. or I get bored of it after working on it for two weeks and decide to work on a new fic "until I'm in the mood to work on it again" and leave it untouched for a year, and then I wrap it up in a few days. one time I wrote a 7k fic in two weeks and I have never been able to pull that off since.

🍥 What's your favorite fic you've written?

ooooh, that's a hard one... I'll give you a few. I think It Makes an Ass out of You and Me is one of my funniest (and was my first fic to "blow up", so I have a soft spot for it). Reflection was my first fic with my beloved Whisper, speaking of which - Made to Watch makes me shake and snarl because TIME LOOPS. GRAGHHH. Foolish Frivolities, Losers' Meeting, and Camellias are all very aromantic and therefore very good (and every time i get comments saying how cool my aro headcanons are I cry). I wrote almost all of Aftereffects in a single night of sleep-deprived spite, which I'm very proud of. Presumed Dead is just one I'm very happy with in general, nothing specific to say... and last but not least, A Bird Trapped In A Cage was so much fun. Ashe let me go crazy with the body horror, and Taurtis is such a piece of shit that I had the time of my life writing him.

🍚 What genre do you have the toughest time writing?

I have a lot of fun with mindless fluff and brutal angst, but trying to find the middle ground is... difficult. I tend to struggle with dialogue a lot, and making a satisfying scene where characters talk out their feelings/problems is really hard for me. also, anything longer than a few thousand words... partially because I usually get bored with a story after that much time, and partially because big, long narratives aren't my forte - I'm good with individual scenes and setpieces, but having to tie them all together... not so much. which is a shame, because I have plenty ideas for those.

#asks #cinnamon-bunni #kitty.txt

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a-vctlan · 2 years ago

Note

who was your first muse? &&. what are your favorite RP tropes to play? (angst, hurt-comfort, etc…)

𝘔𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘈𝘠 𝘘𝘜𝘌𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚

17 - what was your first muse?

It’s with a great shame... that I admit... that my first proper muse that i took on to write online with other people... was Gamzee Makara. I’m sorry everyone that you had to find out this way I was a homestuck tween. He really was the first muse I took on, mostly roleplaying on random anonymous web chats that the homestuck fandom used to have when I was about 12-13.

I still know a couple of people from back then, which is amazing, even if we don’t talk as much!

30 - what are your favorite RP tropes to play? (angst, hurt-comfort, etc…)

A genre that I enjoy but feel is greatly underrated is horror! Partly because it's hard to find people willing to subject their muses to it while also being hard to find other people who roleplay antagonists to their full potential - which I understand, as you have to keep both writers’ comfort and limits in mind! But sometimes you just wanna go to a metaphorical haunted house with your muses, you know? An entirely self-contained horror thread is a lot of fun, even when plotted out.

#「 vctlan — 𝘎𝘌𝘕𝘌𝘙𝘈𝘓 」#0 「 𝘘𝘜𝘌𝘜𝘌 」

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whereisten · 4 years ago

Text

Dinner for Two

A Yuta fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: A dinner at the high-end Osaka Moon leads you to the head chef and owner, Nakamoto Yuta.

Pairing: Chef! Yuta x female reader

Genre: romance, angst, smut, fluff, mystery, suspense, drama, crime, HORROR

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/drug abuse, verbal abuse, mention of sexual assault, infidelity mention, deaths, and big, uncomfortable twist (the ending is not for the faint of heart, I’m warning you).

(A/N): Hiya! Well, this is probably the most disturbing thing I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy! Haha actually, this story was inspired by Yuta’s iconic tweet: “I will eat you”. Well, if that’s not a spoiler...Thank you so much for waiting. I apologize for the delay! Please come back later tonight for another spooky tale...Also, my apologies, I didn’t get a chance to proofread. I appreciate your patience. :D

_______

Life had dealt you some harsh blows but you found happiness wherever you could. Your management position at the vinyl store Neo Records gave you prime access to the best music in the world. Even if the employee discount was trash. You’d worked at the records store for a few months now. This followed you having moved out of your mom’s place. You’d lived with her and your beloved stepfather while you attended college but you’d had enough.

Your mom was a drug addict and her husband Scott only enabled her to continue her abuse. You couldn’t say anything to them because you were the child and they were the adults.

And, as they had always thrown in your face, they paid for a good amount of your tuition because financial aid and scholarships could only do so much for you.

Well, you’re twenty four now and still a child in their eyes. You couldn’t take your mother’s mood swings and Scott’s goading for her to thrash around and party all the time. If your mother wasn’t going to get therapy and refused your help, then you decided to leave.

You had a really good relationship with your dad. You’d wished you had gone to live with him but during your college years, he’d only made enough to send you some funds for your tuition. You appreciated what he could do for you.

However, now he was more financially stable and he wanted to support you so you could move out of your mother’s house. You’d live in an apartment not too far from your dad’s place so you could visit him as much as you’d like. It drove your mom crazy. She always tried to contact you and convince you that she was going to get help. It was a tale as old as time. She said she would get help but never did anything about it. Once she had you under her finger, she reverted back to her ways: skipping work shifts, neglecting household chores, and verbally abusing you. You simply texted her you were busy with work.

Your boyfriend Johnny has been a source of comfort for you over the past year. You’d met him at a club one night with your friends. You told him you didn’t want to go home that night and asked him if you could stay over. Looking back on it, you had been too trusting but Johnny had treated you kindly: he let you take his bed while he slept on the couch. He made you breakfast in the morning: banana pancakes and scrambled eggs. You had sex with him the morning after and you’d been inseparable ever since.

These past few weeks, Johnny had been busier at his new job at a marketing firm. You two were supposed to have a date night tonight but he cancelled two hours before you were to meet at Hal’s Pizzeria for dinner. After that, you were supposed to go to the movies together. You were always a big fan of the dinner and movie date.

You sat on the couch in your living room, feeling a little blue that Johnny was working overtime. So you scrolled through your phone while you watched episodes of an English-dubbed anime about volleyball.

You texted your best friend Carla about how Johnny cancelled at the last minute and she replied: Since you don’t have plans, then I have an opportunity for you.

You texted back, What’s up?

She replied, I had a reservation at Osaka Moon for tonight but I got called in for work. Wanna go? The owner is supposed to be hot as fuck.

You replied, Okay, want me to get his number for you?

She texted, Unnecessary. Thanks, y/n. We’ll go together next time.

_______

Osaka Moon was a high-end restaurant all your friends told you about. You decided to go on your own to the restaurant and have a date night with yourself. Being alone could be tranquil, you assured yourself. And you didn’t have to worry about looking so graceful as you ate so this could be great.

You dolled yourself up in a pale pink dress and some white wedges. It was an understated but elegant look. It was an expensive restaurant so you decided to go all out. You entered the Japanese restaurant and gave the hostess your friend’s name. She immediately sat you down at a table that overlooked the bay. It was a spectacular view. No wonder Carla didn’t want this reservation to go to waste.

It was a shame Johnny couldn’t be here with you right now. This place was so romantic. There were indoor fountains with koi fish swimming around. The ceiling was painted in shades of the sunset with birds flying through the clouds. The aroma of grilled meat and vegetables made you salivate.

A waiter took your order and you took out your phone to take pictures of the restaurant and the view. You wondered if you would catch a glimpse of the chef your friend had mentioned.

As you move your camera around the restaurant to get a wider shot of the place, you recognize someone through your phone. Johnny’s hair was slicked back and he was wearing your favorite suit of his: navy blue with a ruby red colored tie. His height made him stick out like a sore thumb. The sight before you made you wish he’d be a little taller so his head could hit the ceiling. For the sight left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Johnny had arrived at Osaka Moon with another woman. She was generically pretty and you hated her even more. She looked like the mean blonde girl of every early 2000s romantic comedy. She wore a revealing dress that exposed her cleavage very nicely. Why were you paying so much attention to her cleavage? Because of the necklace around her neck: a necklace that looked identical to the one Johnny gifted you last year. It was a rose gold pendant with a rose at the center. Johnny kissed the woman’s lips as he sat her down at the table. She placed her hands against his slimy face.

Son of a-

Hot tears started rushing down your face. You were sure your mascara was running. You gripped your glass of wine tightly. You were surprised you didn’t break the glass then and there.

First off, you went to the restroom and checked your makeup. A little mascara had run down your cheeks. You fixed your makeup and took a few deep breaths. You looked at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were red. What were you going to do now? There was a chance he’d see you and you didn’t want to see the stupid look on his face when he realized he’d been found out.

And you didn’t want to imagine what other reaction he could have. All of this happening in such an extravagant place made you seethe.

Johnny made a fool out of you and his infidelity carved a hole so deeply into your heart, you wanted to scream. So you took a few more minutes to collect yourself. You imagined your entree would be out soon enough anyway. You quickly realized what you needed to do.

You made a beeline for the entrance of the restaurant and approached the first staff member you saw. He was a slender and striking young man. His long brown hair was tied up in a bun. His chiseled face made everyone’s heads turn. His heart shaped lips were perfect. And…

Why were you thinking all of these things when you’d just been cheated on?

Wait a second…

Why couldn’t you think this way? As of ten minutes ago, your relationship with Johnny was over.

The handsome man was talking to one of the hostesses. The hostess was biting her lips and making googly eyes at him. This was awkward but you were resolved to ask him for help.

You tapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Excuse me.”

He turned around and eye contact with him nearly sent you into the stratosphere. His eyes were the deepest brown and when he looked at you, you felt like you were his world.

His eyes were that intense.

“How can I help you?” He smiled, his perfect set of teeth greeted you.

“Hi...Um, what’s your name?” You start, awkward at the start.

He smiled even wider, “Yuta, miss. And yours?”

“I’m y/n. Can I make a special request?”

You didn’t know it then but Yuta watched you enter the restaurant earlier. He was stunned by your beauty and your smile. You looked like a princess as you entered his castle. He saw the wonderstruck look on your face as you were led to your table. He’d never seen someone so happy to enter his restaurant. The young man before you was the owner of Osaka Moon: Nakamoto Yuta.

So for you to come up to him and ask him for a favor? He was more than happy to oblige.

Yuta noticed how red your eyes looked and was concerned. He wondered what transpired when he had to go check on the kitchen staff and couldn’t keep admiring you.

Although your eyes had been red, there was determination in them, he noted.

“Of course,” he said as you moved closer to him and whispered in his ear, making you both a little hot and bothered instantly. You both felt a spark from the moment you met eyes.

Snap out of it, you told yourself. He was very attractive, yes, but your heart had been ripped out of your chest. You wanted revenge. You had to remember why you were talking to this fine man in the first place.

_______

You sat back at your table, undetected by the clusterfuck of a man you used to call your boyfriend. You made sure to focus on your meal, which had been orgasmic. The dish was called Okonomiyaki, a pancake with sliced pork belly and cabbage. The okonomiyaki sauce, Japanese mayonnaise, and dried bonito shavings sealed this dish as one of the best meals you’d ever had. Your compliments to the chef, whoever they were.

You realized it was go-time when the handsome staff member brought the food out for Johnny and his date. All eyes were on the young man who said he would help you. You wondered why. Has your plan been found out?

The young man deposited the dishes to Johnny’s table. His radiant smile never slipped from his face. Incredible, you thought. After what you told him about Johnny, he looked like he was about to pounce on him right then. Even so, he looked attentively at you and accepted your request.

“Here you are,” Yuta said as he put down the plates of sushi in front of Johnny and Blondie. “And a special treat from our chef…”

Johnny and his date oohed and ahhed over their plates. Until the young man deposited a plate that had sauce spelling “Cheater, Liar, Bastard” on it.

“This dish is for you, sir. Have a pleasant evening with Girlfriend Number Two, you son of a bitch.” Yuta gritted his teeth at Johnny. The expression on Yuta’s face then both terrified and aroused you.

Humiliating your cheating boyfriend and standing up for you...It brought a smile to your face.

Even if you still wanted to cry.

Johnny glared up at Yuta, “What the hell is-” He then does what he never does and THINKS. He panics and scans the restaurant, looking for you. He finds you seated at your table. You raise your glass at him as you take a sip of your wine. You flip the bird at him in the process.

He stands up from his table and runs over to your table. “Y/n…”

The other woman is right behind Johnny and simply laughs. “This is her? From the way you talked about her, I expected a real threat...but it’s nice to see that I have nothing to worry about.”

So she knew? She was in on this? You mimicked the blonde’s laugh. “Oh, fuck off...both of you…How long have been together?”

“Three months,” the blonde smirked.

That hurt. A lot. Johnny must’ve started seeing Blondie around the time you’d celebrated your one year anniversary with him.

You guessed one year was his expiration date for relationships.

“Go…” You started. “Have a nice blissful year together. In nine months or so, he’ll find someone shiny and new..”

Johnny was at a loss for words. “Y/n, I am so-”

“Are you sorry?” You rolled your eyes. “Go to hell, Johnny!” You couldn’t hold back anymore as the tears came out.

Yuta came up behind Johnny and his date. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“How dare you?” Blondie asked. “I want to speak to your manager-”

Yuta crossed his arms as his lips quirked up. “You’re looking at him.”

The three of you stared at him with your jaws to the floor. This was news to you. You’d ask the restaurant owner for a favor? The audacity you had…

Your face heated up in embarrassment.

Yuta called over a few security guards to escort Johnny and his date out. Johnny couldn’t even look at you. A fucking coward. His other girl had more balls than he did.

Yuta put a hand on your shoulder and leaned down to speak to you. “Are you okay?” His anger dissipated at the sight of your tears.

You sniffled. “Yeah...Thank you...I-I’m so sorry for bothering you...I didn’t know you were the owner of this place…”

He squeezed your shoulder. “I was happy to help…”

You laughed. “You scared the crap out of me when you called him a son of a bitch.”

He played around with you. “Ah, you liked that? I’ve been working on my crime lord act...How do you think it’s coming along?”

You wiped your tears with your napkin. “Pretty good.”

You both laughed.

“Well, y/n...I hope you have a wonderful rest of the night.” He tipped his imaginary hat and walked away.

As you finished your meal, your waiter brought you a bowl of green tea mochi ice cream.

“Oh, I didn’t order this,” you started.

The waiter replied, “Courtesy of the boss, miss. Please let us know if there is anything else you would like. Your meal is on the house.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked in shock.

The waiter smiled. “Just following the boss’ orders.”

This night may have begun on a sour note but at least you could end it at this incredible place. And you were pretty sure you’d met a real life knight in shining armor tonight...

Before you left the restaurant, the hostess, annoyed, handed you an envelope. “Here.”

“What is it?” You furrowed your brows in confusion.

The hostess sighed. “The golden ticket. Have a good night, miss.” She returned to her stand with her coworkers.

You walked out the door and left Osaka Moon. You opened the envelope and found a handwritten letter.

y/n,

I’ll be upfront with you. I wanted to ask you out the minute you walked into Osaka Moon. But then I found out you had a boyfriend. And right after that, I found out he was a cheating piece of shit...So I’m at a crossroads here...Can I see you again? If yes, please call me at 555-127-1026.

Yours,

Yuta

P.S. The green tea mochi was good, wasn’t it?

_______

A week had passed. You and Yuta have been texting non-stop. He invited you to his restaurant to have dinner. The beef tenderloin he’d served you was out of this world. He made you laugh and shamelessly flirted with you the whole time. You told Yuta you weren’t ready to date so soon. You didn’t want him to be a rebound. You knew that once your heart mended a little more, you’d want to ask Yuta out. He was more than willing to wait for you.

You two had a lot in common: same taste in food, same taste in music, same sense of humor, and you both believed in astrology. No one was as unapologetic about being a Scorpio as Yuta was.

You and Yuta would share meals together frequently. Sometimes outside of his restaurant. And right after, you two would go to the movies like you wanted.

Two months have passed. Finally a couple, you and Yuta have just left the cinema. You’d just watched a midnight showing of Paranormal Activity 7.

“That was amazing,” you started.

Yuta snorted. “You are too easy to please, y/n. That movie was terrible.”

You slapped him in the chest. “You’re so full of it.”

Yuta chuckled. “Nothing beats horror movies from Japan. Just you wait…” He wrapped his arm around you.

You looked up at him. “Is that a promise?”

He kissed the crown of your head. “You bet it is.”

_______

“It is week nine into the investigation of Johnny Suh’s disappearance. Johnny Suh is a twenty four year old marketing consultant. He hails from Chicago, Illinois…” The news anchor says on the television screen.

You and Yuta are cuddled on his couch in his penthouse suite, watching the news. You were shocked when you first heard that Johnny had gone missing over two months ago. Even though you’d hated him with every fiber of your being, your heart ached for his family. You hoped he would be okay.

Yuta drove to you to work that morning and told you he would pick you up when your shift ended. He planned to surprise you with a backyard screening of “Ring”, one of the most popular Japanese horror films of all time. He’d set up a projector in his backyard so you two could watch the movie under the stars.

When Yuta arrived to pick you up, he saw you run out of the record shop and run away in tears. He ran out of his car to meet you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” Yuta asked as he cupped your face in his hands and wiped tears away.

You sniffled. “Let’s go...Pl-please.”

Yuta was hesitant but he accepted as you definitely wanted to get the hell out of there.

The question on Yuta’s mind was...Why?

As he drove away from Neo Records, he asked, more softly, “What happened, y/n?”

“I quit,” you said.

Yuta nearly stopped the car so he could look at you. However, he couldn’t because the traffic was quite unpredictable so he couldn’t turn to face you. “What? Why?”

“I...I don’t...He...Uh…” You hiccuped between your tears.

Yuta gripped the steering wheel at the sound of “he”. “Who? Y/n, did someone do something to you?”

You were worried about how Yuta might react when you told him about how your boss, Mr. Fox, groped you during your lunch break. Mr. Fox had always been too friendly with female staff but you never thought he would cross the line. Until today.

“Mr. Fox touched...me…” You managed to say. You shut your eyes, awaiting the wrath of the Scorpio beside you.

Yuta was about to rip the steering wheel out of the car. “He did what?”

“He touched me, Yuta...And I...I didn’t know what to do...I don’t have proof...So I quit. I can’t be in the same room as him anymore…”

Yuta was furious. To see the woman he loved broken and helpless. You were his everything and you deserve nothing but the best the world had to offer. And to see you get treated like this? He wanted to beat the shit out of Mr. Fox. He wanted to see him cry and beg for mercy.

He didn’t want to frighten you with his anger because you were already shaken up as is so he turned into a store plaza parking lot and put the car in park. He turned to you and asked you, “Can I hold you?”

You nodded, “Y-yes…”

Yuta backed the driver seat up so you could crawl into his arms. He held you as you cried. His heart ached for you and he wondered what he could do to get you justice.

You were so thankful to Yuta. You knew he would be so upset once you told him. Your heart felt so reassured to see how passionate he was about you. He made you feel like you were his world. And you felt much better knowing that you had him by your side.

_______

A week had passed by after you quit your job at Neo Records. You couldn’t afford to pay your half of the rent so Yuta offered for you to move in. You were thrilled at the idea. You and Yuta were living like blissful newlyweds.

You were washing the dishes after you two had eaten some imported steak that Yuta had wanted to try out. It was incredible. Everything Yuta prepared for you was literal sex in your mouth.

As you stretched your neck to the left, Yuta wrapped his arms around you and nibbled on your neck. “y/n, you smell like raspberries…”

You froze and dropped the dish you’d been scrubbing into the soapy water.

Yuta turned you around quickly and pulled your cleaning gloves off of your hands and tossed them aside. He picked you up and sat you on the kitchen island.

“I love that you’re here with me…” He whispered.

The hooded look in his eyes made your panties soak. He lifted the skirt of your dress up like nothing. He sunk his teeth into the fabric of your panties and pulled them down, never losing eye contact with you. You loved how primal he got with you. He always left you with love bites. He always seemed to find new places to leave them so you can find them during a random part of your day and think of him.

“I wonder if your pussy tastes like raspberries, y/n...Shall we find out?” Yuta asks as he looks up at you. He was on his knees, looking like he was praying to his goddess.

You nodded fervently as you pulled your dress off over your head, only in your bra now. “Yes…”

He unclasped your bra so your breasts were exposed to the cold air in the kitchen. Your nipples were already hard at Yuta’s initial touch. He got up off his knees and began sucking at one nipple and rubbing the others. He bit your nipple and you cried out.

You grabbed at his growing member and he grunted. You unbuttoned his pants so his aching member could be free. You squeezed it harder and began rubbing up and down. Traces of precum coated your fingers. You worked harder to get him riled up. When he felt himself build up, you stopped and he looked up at you through needy eyes.

You kept going until he climaxed onto your arm. You licked his cum off of your arm slowly and it made his cock harder. He met you halfway and lathered up his juices. He loved the taste of his seed on you.

Yuta catered to your pussy which ached for his touch. His hot breath greeted your entrance before he inserted two fingers inside you. He coated his fingers in your growing essence. You adorned him with kisses and love bites. You bit behind his ear and he moaned at your velvet touch.

He laid you down on top of the kitchen island, throwing everything off of the table with a quick swipe of his arm. He straddled himself on top of you. He proceeded to give your entrance some kitten licks, enjoying when he teased you most of all. You got all bratty and needy and it always drove him up a wall.

“Yuta...please hurry,” you begged.

He tsked. “Good things come to those who wait, darling.”

At the sound of “darling”, you got even wetter.

He chuckled as he licked your folds and played around with your sweet spot. Never quite making contact and making you delirious with need. You gripped his hair, trying to maneuver him to hit your sweet spot already.

“You better not cum until I say so, y/n...Or else I’m going to get very angry…” Yuta said with a mischievous smile on his face.

Yuta underestimated his touch, you thought. The man was literal sex on two feet. You came quickly at the contact he’d made with your pussy.

He frowned at you, “My dear little slut, you’ve disobeyed me.”

You sighed blissfully. “You make me want to break the rules, Yuta.”

He laughed. “So I’m to blame for your disobedience, huh?”

You grabbed his face and kissed him, your tongue playing around with his. You kissed his neck and left marks against his collarbone as he teased his cock against your entrance.

He entered you now and you felt close to completion. He thrusted against you and you joined him. The slapping of skin against skin and your moans echoed throughout the penthouse. You were thankful there were no next door neighbors. You liked the feeling of this floor being just the two of you.

Alone with Yuta, you felt like the center of his universe. You felt like a queen. That no one else mattered quite like you did. Yuta always made you feel like the most important person in the world.

You felt the need to climax come back quickly but just as you wished for your release against Yuta’s member, he removed himself and pecked your lips.

Between your thighs, he gave you a dark stare. “I don’t know if you should cum again, sweets.”

You drooled. “Please…”

Yuta teased. “What was that?”

“Please,” you full on begged as you started to touch yourself. “I need you or else I’m going to finish the job.”

He gasped and laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”

You coated your fingers in your essence and popped your index finger into Yuta’s mouth. He sucked hard.

“How do I taste?” You asked.

Yuta didn’t let go of your finger and bit lightly against it to tease you further.

You sighed. “Well, if you don’t want to fuck me properly, then I can’t force you. I’ll finish off in the shower.” You got up off the kitchen counter and nearly lost your balance. You were already weak in the knees.

Yuta fought back a laugh. “I’d like to see you make it to the shower, jello legs.”

You gave up and laid on the floor, giving him a nice angle of your naked body. You stretched out and started teasing your own entrance, imagining Yuta was building you up again. And having him watch from above on the kitchen counter, you felt yourself grow even hotter.

Yuta got up off of the counter and straddled you again. Without warning, he entered you and went hard. Tears streamed from your eyes as you climaxed quickly. Yuta continued you to thrust against your pelvis until he came quickly after.

Yuta took you into the shower where you would continue to fuck and he gave you new love bites. This time, they were on your ankles.

_______

A month had passed and you’d taken over as manager of Neo Records. Mr. Fox had fallen off the face of the earth and was reported missing. It was odd. Another man who attempted to ruin your life had disappeared. You thought it was karmic justice but deep down, it bothered you.

Your mother once again resurfaced after months of radio silence. She wanted to invite you and your new boyfriend (who she was very upset not to have heard about before) over for dinner. Scott and his kids from his previous marriage would be there. You hated them, too. They were a bunch of enabling brats that were after their daddy’s money.

You couldn’t say no to your mother, especially after she found out about Yuta from your dad. It wounded her pride that your dad knew something she didn’t. Your dad felt horrible for letting it slip in conversation with her. He couldn’t dodge her phone calls. He always tried to pacify her and talk to her when she called. So he couldn’t help but mention Yuta.

You didn’t want Yuta to know about your mother and her side of the family, for it brought about deep shame, regret, and painful memories.

But this time, you couldn’t run away.

You and Yuta went over to your mother’s lavish home, your old home for seven years. Scott married your mom when you were a senior in high school. Scott came from old money but he never worked a day in his life. The undeserving ass wipe, he was.

Your mother pretended to be the picture of domesticity as she cooked her once-in-a-decade dish of lasagna. You loved it, you hated to admit it now. You begged her to make it so many times when you were a kid. She always said she would but would always get distracted. Distracted with her new boyfriends or paying a debt. Sometimes you were truly on your own even if your mom had been physically beside you.

You and Yuta sat at the table with Scott and his kids. They prodded Yuta with questions about his ethnicity, his restaurant, his political beliefs, basically everything you can think of that would make anyone’s significant other runs for the hills.

Yuta took it like a champ. He answered them as politely as possible and whenever the question was too offensive to get an answer, Yuta masterfully deflected.

Your mom brought out the lasagna and served everyone. She gave an extra helping for Yuta. “I hope you like it, Yuta.”

Yuta nodded. “Thank you, Ms. y/l/n.” He took a bite of it. “It’s delicious.”

Your mom smiled brightly and gave you a look of encouragement.

You forced a smile.

Your mom could tell you were faking it and her smile faded. “You still hate me, don’t you, y/n?”

Oh no, you thought, not here…

“I make this nice dinner for you and your perfect boyfriend...Who is clearly way out of your league...And you’re moping around like a sad, pathetic little bitch.”

“Mom, please stop-”

“You don’t tell me what to do! I am the parent. You are the child. Get that through your thick head. God knows what poison your father has been feeding you about me but he’s wrong. I’ve never been better,” she says as she downs her third glass of beer in the past thirty minute.

She was already this inebriated so you imagined she drank before you arrived and drank more while she was cooking the lasagna.

You looked down at your lap and Yuta grabbed your hand. He squeezed it.

“Your mother has been coming with me to church, y/n,” Scott began, “She’s been conversing with the Lord and she’s been on the mend. Why can’t you see that?”

Your other hand that wasn’t holding Yuta’s had balled up into a fist.

Scott’s oldest daughter added, “Your mom’s amazing, y/n. She’s more of a mother to me than my actual mother is.”

That’s rich….Your mom always acted so sweetly with Scott’s kids to get on his good side. It was sickening. And to hear this bullshit come out of their mouth...You were about to reach your breaking point.

“Yuta, let’s go,” you said.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Scott asked.

“Anywhere but here,” you said, “Excuse us.”

“Y/n, if you leave, I will never talk to you again!” Your mom wailed as she gripped her glass tightly.

You snapped, “Well, mom, that just might be the nicest thing would ever do for me.”

Yuta started. “Y/n-”

“Go to hell!” Your mom yelled.

“I’ll meet you there!” You yelled back as you stormed with Yuta right behind you.

Back at your place, you hid in your bedroom while Yuta ordered some takeout. You laid your face down on Yuta’s pillow and smelled the scent of his shampoo mixed with his cologne on it. It gave you great comfort.

Yuta joined you and sat beside you on the bed. “The food will be here in half an hour.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled against the pillow.

Yuta sighed as he laid down next to you. “How are you?”

“Humiliated,” you answered.

“Y/n...I am so sorry…”

“Are you kidding? I’m sorry I took you with me in the first place...I...I could’ve kept you from all of that…”

“Your mother insisted, y/n. We had no choice.”

“Yup, that’s how it always is with her and fucking Scott. I fucking hate him. If it weren’t for his money and her obsession with him, she wouldn’t have gotten to this point, Yuta…”

Yuta rubbed your arm. “I know, y/n…”

You sighed. “I know there’s nothing I can do...It just sucks. I try not to let it get to me...Since it’s something I can’t control...But seeing my mom like that...It’s really fucking unfair.” You sob into your pillow.

In between your sobs, you said, “I wish Scott would go away...Somehow…”

Yuta hugged you as you cried. He wanted nothing more than to take your pain and suffering away.

_______

A month had passed since the disastrous dinner. Your mom was good with her word. She hadn’t contacted you or your dad. You’d told him about the falling out and he consoled you. He understood your pain more than anyone. He encouraged you to keep living your life and being happy with Yuta and so you did.

Yuta’s birthday was coming up so you wanted to surprise him. He told you he was meeting a client downtown so you got to work.

You wanted to take Yuta to all of his favorite places over town and you wanted to make scavenger hunt out of it. The clues would take Yuta to places that had to do with your relationship. It was a way of celebrating how much of an amazing boyfriend he’d been to you. The ultimate prize of the hunt would be a key...a hotel room key to the Lotus Hotel.

As you shopped for art supplies for your scavenger hunt one night, you’d noticed Yuta on his way somewhere. He had a couple of shopping bags with him.

You decided to follow him and catch him by surprise. However, Yuta was headed to a more abandoned part of town, where there were only warehouses.

You got behind a bunch of abandoned cars and watched Yuta make his way into a warehouse, where his car had already been parked. Half an hour passes and Yuta comes out of the door with bags stained red with blood.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. What the hell were those?

You noticed the shifty look in Yuta’s eyes and quickly, you grew scared. Terrified of being caught.

Calm down, you told yourself, it was probably meat for his restaurant. What else could it be? You felt incredibly stupid for spying on him like this. In fact, you felt ashamed.

You waited for Yuta to leave in his car. You crept into the warehouse and tried looking through the windows. You saw nothing but butchers’ paper and a basket of random items.

Except one thing stuck out to you. A gold Rolex. It was obnoxiously large that you could never forget about it.

It was Scott’s. It was one of a kind. He had it custom-made to be the only one in existence. And now it was just sitting there in a random warehouse…

But why? What was it doing in this warehouse that Yuta came out of?

Your stomach lurched at the uncertainty of it all. You needed to get the hell out of here so you ran off.

Not realizing you’d forgotten something.

_______

Yuta made you spaghetti and meatballs after work the next day. You’d been awfully quiet and he wanted to know why.

“Something bothering you, sweets?” He asked.

You played with your food and took a bite of one of the meatballs. Damn, it tasted good, you thought. It was savory and not like any other kind of beef you’ve tasted. You had to ask Yuta where he imported his meat from because there was nothing quite like it.

Still, you couldn’t look Yuta in the eyes.

“Y/n, look at me, please…” He started.

You forced yourself to look at him and just as you were about to speak, your phone rang.

You were shocked to see that it was your mom. You dreaded answering it but if it could deflect from the confrontation you were about to have with Yuta…

You answered, “Hello?”

“Y/n!” Your mom sobbed. “Scott is missing!”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. “What?”

Your mom wailed. “I don’t know what to do, y/n! Have you seen him at all since you came to visit?”

Your mind immediately went to the gold Rolex at the warehouse. “No, mom, I haven’t seen him.”

Yuta watched you with curious eyes. You averted your gaze and got up from the table. “Mom, please calm down...The police will find him. That’s what they’re supposed to do.”

Your mom laughed. “When has the police ever done what they’re supposed to do?”

You sighed. “Mom, I’m so sorry...If there’s anything I can do…” You felt awkward for saying this because you absolutely hated Scott and part of you wanted to say good riddance...But you couldn’t. You couldn’t add salt to your mother’s wound.

You mom replied, “If you see or hear anything about Scott, call me. Please.”

“Okay,” you said, “Bye mom.”

Your mother hung up.

You turned back to Yuta, who watched you carefully from the table.

“Your food’s getting cold, y/n…” Yuta mused aloud.

“Right…” You said as you sat back down. You took another bite of the spaghetti and meatballs.

“What was that about?” Yuta asked, concerned.

“My mom called. Scott is missing…” You said as you looked down at your food.

“Oh? Well, that’s terrible,” Yuta said. He looked upset enough.

But you knew him. You sighed, “Yuta, you’re hiding something from me.”

His eyes widened. “Finally, I was waiting for you to say something. It’s been driving me crazy.”

“What?” You asked.

He pulled something out of his pants pocket and it was your charm bracelet. His birthday gift to you from last month...You’d completely forgotten about it. “You dropped this on the way home.”

Your mouth opened in shock.

“How long were you watching me for, y/n? It must’ve been troublesome to be hiding in the rubble across the street…”

You lost your appetite completely. “You knew?”

“I knew you were tailing me yesterday…” He said as he picked at your plate and took a bite of your food.

You started pathetically, “I wanted to surprise you…”

Yuta nodded. “But instead I surprised you…”

“Yuta, what was in those bags?” You asked. “And what were you doing with Scott’s watch?”

Yuta bit his lip and rubbed the back of his head. “Well...Since we’re this deep into the relationship, I think I should be completely honest with you, y/n.”

The look in Yuta’s eyes was something you didn’t recognize. It wasn’t playful. It was more...evil.

“Do you remember our first meal together, y/n? How savory it was? How it was unlike anything you’d ever tasted?”

You didn’t know where this was going but you responded anyway, “Y-yeah…”

“Did you ever stop to think if it was really beef tenderloin?” Yuta asked.

Your eyes widened. “N-no…”

“Come on, y/n. It’s me...You can be honest…”

“Was it veal?” You asked, grasping at straws.

Yuta shook his head and a smile was fighting to come onto his face. “Nope...I grounded him up real nicely for our first meal together…” He muttered that last part.

“Him?” You asked.

“But who else, y/n? Think.”

You and Yuta ate together for the first time after...Your breakup with Johnny.

“Yuta...What are you…” You began.

“I think I’ve made myself pretty clear.”

You laughed skeptically. “Yuta, I know you love to tease but be serious for a second…”

Yuta’s face darkened. “I am serious, y/n.”

You shook your head. “You mean to tell me...Y-you killed Johnny?”

Yuta nodded. “Why, yes...Slit the bastard’s tire before he left the restaurant. Followed him home. Made sure Girlfriend Number Two was going up to her apartment and I got him right where I wanted him…”

“Yuta…” You couldn’t believe what he was saying. This had to be some cruel joke. And the fact that he was being so specific with these details meant that he wasn’t lying.

“So, yes, y/n, I killed Johnny and I ground him up. No evidence of that bastard’s existence is left now…And do you want to know why?”

You cried. “Yuta, stop it.”

Yuta wiped the tears from your eyes. “Because we ate him. You and me, y/n…”

You gasped in horror. You sobbed as you backed away from Yuta. “You’re a fucking liar, Yuta. Stop it!”

Yuta sighed. “Why should I stop there? That scumbag, Mr. Fox? Remember the day we made the sweetest love in the kitchen? And we had ‘steak’?”

“Yuta, no!” You fell to the floor. “Stop it! I am begging you.”

“You need to know the truth, y/n…”

You shook your head. “You killed them...And you killed Scott.”

“Ding ding! We have a winner!” Yuta rejoiced.

“You’re crazy…” You cried out.

Yuta’s smile faded as quickly as it came. “Y/n, you don’t mean that. You love me. Just as I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment we met…”

You cried harder. “Yuta…”

Yuta got onto the floor with you. “I did it all for you, y/n. So you could be free from them all.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yuta was a murderer and...you couldn’t even think the word...

And you...you ate their remains...Johnny’s...Mr. Fox’s...and…

You looked up at the plate of spaghetti and meatballs and came to another realization. You ran into the bathroom and threw up in the toilet.

You gagged and coughed as you held your hair back.

You’d just eaten Scott’s remains.

Your world was crashing down on you. Yuta, the love of your life, killed three people. And that was only accounting for the people you knew. You had no idea what his past was really like. Yuta cut them up, ground them up, did everything a butcher would do with their body parts. Yuta fed them to you. He ate them knowingly and unapologetically.

And the worst part?

You enjoyed every morsel…

And you craved more.

Yuta entered the bathroom and held your hair back for you as he caressed your back. “There, there…”

Tears from vomiting ran down your cheeks. “Yuta...You really shouldn’t have done those things…”

“Do you really mean that, y/n? Johnny made a fool out of you and lied to you. He humiliated you and he didn’t stop his new girlfriend from insulting you. He was scum. Mr. Fox was the most vile of them all. He touched you without consent. Rapists should perish from the moment they think of touching someone...At least, give me that much, sweets…”

As disturbing as everything Yuta had said sounded, you couldn’t help but agree with him.

“And Scott...You wished to make him go away...And your wish is my command, my angel.”

You got up from the toilet and flushed the contents down. You went to the sink and brushed your teeth. All the while, Yuta watched you.

“Y/n...The consumption of human flesh has been a custom in my family for generations...These days, we can’t just pick and choose our victims. We must have an honorable reason to kill them. You gave me three victims. A feast. It’s what sustains me, y/n…”

You spat the toothpaste out of your mouth and swished your mouth with some mouthwash. “You...you’re serious?”

“I need to consume human flesh at least once a year or I will die, y/n...Why do you think my parents died so young?”

You thought about it. “They gave up on human flesh?”

Yuta nodded somberly. “I don’t want to die, y/n. Now that I’ve met you, I can’t afford to…”

“But why did you feed them to me?” You asked.

“To absorb their power. To move on,” he said, “It’s my family’s belief that once you ingest the meat of your enemy that you will overcome the barrier that they’ve created for you.”

You stood there, silent. You were afraid of what he would probably bring up next.

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you?” He asked, finally.

You averted your gaze and stared at the sink. “I...did.”

Yuta met your eyes through the mirror. “I know, y/n...And there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Not with me.”

Tears escaped your eyes. Yuta was right. It’d felt...amazing. Empowering. And each of them were the best meals you’d ever had…

“Yuta?” You started.

“Yes, darling?”

“Never keep anything from me again,” you commanded.

_______

It had been a year since the news broke out over Scott’s disappearance. Johnny and Mr. Fox’s missing person cases had gone cold.

Since Scott was out of the picture, your mom had a mental break and was admitted into a rehabilitation facility. She is continually seeking treatment and is turning away visitors. She wrote you a letter, reflecting on her past mistakes and how she’d failed you as a mother. She apologized profusely and promised you that she would try to be sober.

And that’s all you’d ever hoped for from her. You knew that it would be a difficult journey. But the desire for change was the first step in the right direction. And you had a feeling your mom was going to succeed.

You married Yuta. Your father gave you away at the wedding. You were happy. You and Yuta traveled the world together. You had adopted two rescue dogs. To your friends and family, you and Yuta were the dream.

When you’d returned from your honeymoon, Yuta had bought a house for you two to start a family together. The first night in your new house, Yuta bred you.

You two laid in bed together. Yuta hugged you and asked, “So, has anyone screwed you over recently?”

You laughed. “Nope. Sucks for you, doesn’t it?”

He rolled his eyes and nipped at your ear. “A Nakamoto man’s gotta eat, y/n...Any ideas?”

You nuzzled into his neck. “You can always eat me.”

Yuta got a hard on at those words. “You’re too sweet for me to eat. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, y/n…”

You traced your fingers down his happy trail and asked. “Well, we can go hunting this week. I’m sure there’s some privileged college fuckboy that is beyond redemption…”

“You know what, y/n? There’s so many things I love about you but it’s your optimism that gets me hot.”

“Oh yeah?” You teased as you kissed him.

“I love you,” Yuta said between kisses.

“I love you, too,” you replied.

[Fin]

831 notes · View notes

persephoneyss · 4 years ago

Text

Bad Movie.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x f! Reader. Ft. Jungkook.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, angst, gore a little.

Summary: ❝Looking for the person you love, beautiful woman.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, harassment / stalking, humiliation, forced marriage, non-sexual intercourse, abuse of power, implicit murder, drug use naming, minor past master / pet relationships, secondary character abduction, ugly hallucinating hoseok , beatings, blood, photos depicting abuse, mistreatment and death, bribery, sexism and humiliation (directly aimed at female prostitutes), hoseok mistreats and humiliates jk, awkward marriage proposals, use namjoon as a secondary character because it hurts more:(, etc.

Number of words: 6000+

︙Author's Note: This is my longest fic so far, I think. It took a lot for me to do it, especially since I didn't have a clear idea about the whole plot that would take and the role that each character would develop. So if you see Jungkook in a kind of strange character, blame my mind for including him almost last. Also, I hate Hoseok in this fic. Namjoon angel and fallen soldier, by the way let me know if they cried with his death, it hurt me to write it. Thank you very much for the 200 notes in my previous fic, I'm crying.

Read the Warnings well and enjoy!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

Confidence, a beautiful and treacherous feeling at times.

Feeling superior is a constant whisper of the ego within you, calling to be released and make others feel as what they really are, despicable and useless trash. It was fun laughing at losers when you haven't had that sense of defeat yet.

Hoseok fervently watched his rivals fall at his feet, laughing at his incompetence and stomping even more pathetic defeated form even though they were already dead in tears of pain. He smiled, he always did when he felt invincible and He bit his lip gently to hold back an excited laugh.

No one could be compared to him, and in his high sense of power he could never be alert when he struck him with a blast of vengeance.

It was you.

His eyes stared at you in horror and anger, his ego inside him hated you from the first moment. Because while despicable, he loved you for much more than his pride and winning sense.

He fell at your feet but he never made you notice it, behaving as he normally would around you even though he was always behind you.

Luck was her greatest ally, he always smiled at her and she helped him. It was fun to play with your opponents pretending to be the victim, the cornered mouse and then smash everyone with a snap of your fingers.

His mother looked at him with love and his father with pride, he was the only and favorite son of the Jung family. His success was never derived from love, much less, it was blasphemy in his family to say something so false and impossible.

Hoseok admired his family when they met in the great message of his parents' house, his grandparents smiled and his relatives brought out their most exquisite stories to entertain. They were all crows pretending to show interest in a prestigious place in the will of the family's monarch, his grandfather.

It was at one of those dinners that he got to meet you, he used to get bored of hearing his cousins tell their anecdotes with prostitute women who mostly called, whores of a night. Mocking their shocked faces when they refused to pay them and threw them out of their big luxurious houses.

He rolled his eyes when a family friend, little Jungkook who was known to his father because of his prestige in his last name, chimed in trying to get into the conversation with a shy smile.

Lucky bastard, he thought bitterly. He didn't like the little idiot sticking his hands in boiling water, he wasn't even supposed to be there.

He hummed a goodbye as he walked out the front doors, walking aimlessly to his bored eyes. His feet stopped abruptly with a strangled sigh when he first saw you, you looked tired as you apparently searched for a key inside your bag. Could visualize the logo on your shirt from the grocery store where he assumed you were employed, He stood looking for what seemed like an eternity at you before you find the keys and rush through the back door. He snorted before lazily continuing on his way, however the next day he ended up following in your footsteps again and with even more confidence.

It took a few weeks for him to be able to enter the small commerce store and be able to look you face to face for the first time, it was expected that you would serve him with a smile asking if he was offered something. But he did not see you anywhere, he looked for you before another equally young woman approached him kindly, he sighed making a face of disgust surprising the she worker, his expensive shoes got dirty on the floors of the humble place with shame. His little investigation and search took him through many corridors of the establishment, he observed the shelves and each person who seemed to be wearing the uniform of the store thinking of finding you distracted with your work, maybe he thought of approaching you and asking for directions which he clearly didn't need. Knowing that she you couldn't refuse because that was your job. In a way, you were there to serve him.

He let out a bored sigh, tired of playing hide and seek, he turned around ready to leave that place that disgusted him so much in a certain way, but once again he stopped in an instant. It was a moan. He clenched his fists, walking hurriedly to the place where the noise came from, he was sure it was your voice and that made him even more angry thinking that he would find you in a compromising position with someone.

He did not think that his lover would be such a stupid and dirty person.

You were crouched on the floor, grimacing with pain and exhaustion. You seemed very annoyed trying to lift a box with your arms, the scene was tender and certainly pathetic, she smiled noticing that you were so distracted that you were never aware of how I was watching you with carnal desire and painfully bad adoration.

"I-can I help you." He was surprised at his little babble, justifying himself later. Nobody ever managed to make him nervous, his father used to despise weak people and certainly he always sought his approval by doing things that were not correct. "They seem heavy."

Your face pale before the scare, turning into a face of shame quickly, you shook your head with a gentle movement, smiling still pained. "I'm fine sir. Can I help you? Maybe he got lost, let me guide-..."

"Actually, I do need help but not with your services." I speak in disagreement, you seemed confused but she nodded at his request. The customer is always right, right? How convenient. "I need you to allow me to help you with that heavy box, not to be rude or calling you weak miss, but you can't seem to handle it."

Lie, under his politically correct excuse was a dialogue about how insufficient you are even with things as easy and common as carrying a box, obviously you needed his help and Hoseok could give you that and more, much more. You just had to say it, it was so simple and fun.

"I -... I can do it, but i will accept your help sir ..." He smiled making an emphasis for he to give him his name, he let out a small laugh finishing his sentence.

“Hoseok, you can call me Hoseok, darling..." He mock imitating his position, your name left your lips like a melody and he immediately felt the sweet taste of it slide down his tongue. Beautifully perfect, indeed. "Now that we can finish the introductions please allow me."

Her expensive outfit crumpled as she bent down to lift the box with ease, you were once again oblivious to her incoherent and certainly crazy fantasies, it was like a romance comedy movie in her eyes. The charming fellow always stays with the girl. And likewise, no one could go against the fictional plot.

He was immersed in the beautiful narrative that you would be hers at the end of the credits.

It was not the last time she saw you, she returned to her same routine of continuing to stalk you with obvious impudence. The only thing that really changed was her new setting and her character, he was hiding between the shelves waiting for the right moment to appear in front of you with a charming smile. Over and over, he was locked in an infinite loop.

He was starting to get tired of just having you in his arms and sheets just in his heavy and lustful dreams.

"A date? How funny Hoseok."

His face twisted in annoyance, but he put on a fake smile again when you looked at him again. "Hobi." He corrected in a high-pitched voice, insisting that you call him that. "And she spoke very seriously my dear, everything is ready."

"Eh ... I -..." A simple wave of her hands was enough to shut you up, you frown in confusion and secretly disgusted.

"On Saturday, I'll send you the address of the restaurant. Goodbye, dear!"

You watch it for a few seconds but he's already gone, you resign yourself to continuing with your work of ordering the products on the shelves. Thinking and trying to remember when you gave him your number. A very characteristic noise distracts you, a call makes you smile with love and adoration.

The plot is taking an interesting turn.

Hoseok was charming by nature, his economic position made him even more desirable to the opposite gender and even his own. It was not strange to see people flirting with him or being suggestive with his proposals, he was on a pedestal and he enjoyed it. His subconscious whispered a little bored. I couldn't deny that he became boring in a way, but you appeared in the story as an extra who soon became a main character. You changed the script of his life already established and narrated.

You were so funny.

He smiled in front of the mirror when he thought of you, since he met you that day he started chatting with you secretly from your supervisor. You had told him several anecdotes to make him laugh, you were also naturally charming pulling out various expressions of adoration that you did not even notice. Oblivious to that, you'd better get ready for the climax of the movie.

The wind was strong in the streets of Seoul, your hair was noticeably messy causing you to let out a tired sigh. You should be planning your wedding banquet right now, but you honestly didn't want to leave Hoseok alone at the dinner he had organized. You put the invitation in your bag, thinking of giving it to her when the time was right with a smile. He seemed like a good person and undoubtedly a good friend in the future.

"You're on time, I was just about to order our food. Honey." The last word slid down his tongue with malice and arrogance, Hoseok inwardly chuckling at your disengaged expression.

"Thanks, but don't stop you can order for both." You say arranging your chair correctly.

The restaurant looked relatively empty, there were only three other people including a couple who ate dinner while chatting enthusiastically.

You smile unconsciously, thinking about what would also make you feel the same way.

"I was looking forward to this dinner, my dear. I also hoped I could tell you how much you have captivated me for a long time, specifically since the first day I saw you." And the others too, he thought shifting your posture.

"Thank you, I'm very flattered to cause that feeling ... in, good in you." You whisper clearly uncomfortable forcing yourself to stay calm. You were sure that you had never given a hint or anything else in Hoseok to establish romantic feelings. "But I-... "

"I know, darling. That is why I have to offer you the opportunity to be my girlfriend and my future wife."

Wife?

For a moment, you feel a rush through your body. You refuse to make a scene in front of all the few people present out of respect, you calm down by counting to ten slowly in your head, but it becomes very difficult for you as you continue to observe his comfortable smile and how he behaves. He seemed very sure of the affirmative respect you would give him, you snort angrily at the thought.

"I am sorry to have been misunderstood Mr. Hoseok, but I am not seeking a relationship with you and very sorry I reject any relationship beyond friendship." Your body lifts up, making Hoseok laugh well in advance of your final sentences. "I am engaged and my future husband is waiting for me, good afternoon."

Trembling, you leave the invitation in silence, leaving the luxurious premises in the same way. The waiters watching you with surprise, being an audience of rejection and humiliation on your part. Hoseok sighs, sipping his wine glass patiently pretending not to hear what the couple behind him are saying.

What a bad luck.

Life wanted to want to return all his damn vanity to him, making fun of him with your almost imminent rejection, obviously he knew that you were engaged and that you loved the poor man who had the bad luck to be his competition, but love is not always the important thing in a relationship or at least not of both parties. The voices of the waiters and the couple distract him from his plans for his next step, he clenches his fists angrily dropping the silverware on the plate calling the attention of everyone in the place.

"Filthy vulgar and talkative people, she will be my wife even if her words have been heard by her prying ears." He raised his voice, causing everyone to shut up. "It's just part of the script."

Maybe if the character who wanted to be the main loses the role of him, he should be the villain. The bad guy in the movie.

He read the invitation with meticulous delicacy, laughing at the little message you put aside. He thought about attending for a second, wondering if it would be nice to walk in to go straight to the altar and shoot your husband willing to take his place by your side. But that would be risky.

"Where are we going, sir?" He asked his driver with a smile.

"Take me to the best brothel in Seoul." He whispered delicately, smiling just as happily as before your rejection. I'd make you pay double the bill for your indulgence.

And likewise, the world is a truly small place. Jungkook nodded clearly uncomfortable obeying someone other than Mr. Jung. Hoseok cornered him like a helpless rabbit in the claws of a cunning fox, flashing his jaw in warning. He felt confused about his little assigned task, watching the direction pointing the right way to his chauffeur who only followed orders.

A small feeling of remorse ran through him, making him want to vomit when he remembered how Hoseok's face was so close to his with arrogance, as his hands roamed his arms gently. He was disgusting how he used his power to such a useless and demanding gain, sometimes without any realism.

"Little Jungkook, you have a very lovely name. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, you were so insignificant that you seemed pathetic to me." He whispered making her wince. "My father told me that you are good at obeying, I would like to test his theory." His cold hands were constantly running down his arms, making a shiver run through his body. "Still remembering well, I already did it before."

Jungkook was weak under his cloak of power, where he could so easily hide it. Lose it. "Yes, h-hyung." An inappropriate moan came from his lips causing him to cover her mouth in shame, a little touch near his crotch was enough to tempt him. Hoseok smirked, narrowing his eyes before walking away slowly wiping his fingers on his expensive clothes in disgust.

"I want you to befriend someone, don't ask, just do it. I'll tell you your next step when you're done." He ordered bored.

"We are here, young Jeon." Notice Jimin with a smile, Jungkook sighed wearily thanking him before getting out of the car ready to fulfill his mission.

I observe him for a few seconds standing in the entrance without doing anything, he was cleaning the windows of the building with force. He seemed like a nice person, certainly a bit humble. He approached making the man bow respectfully, even though he was older. Money can buy everything, they say.

"I am young Jeon, a new investor. May I have a chat with you?"

The man was surprised, no one who was someone by name and a few numbers along with several zeros would be able to notice his presence and at least greet him. A coffee sounded more intimate and undoubtedly inconvenient for him, but again out of respect he accepted the offer with a smile adorning his features.

"My name is Jungkook informally, but I like you and you can call me that." He spoke kindly.

"Namjoon, Mr. Je -... I'm sorry, Jungkook." He corrected sheepishly, making her smile.

He still didn't understand that he planned to do Hoseok with a building cleaner, but he didn't feel in a position worth asking. Furthermore, he would still not receive an honest answer.

He passed by the same place every day, pretending to enter the building only so he could meet Mr. Kim and talk about unimportant subjects. He gained his trust almost immediately, promising that he would give her a better job soon at his own company. He felt like an idiot taking advantage of the man in front of him in such a way for a simple whim from Hoseok.

He was an idiot, but he didn't want to go back to what he was before. A pet.

"I'm very happy, I think she will make a good wife." He responded with encouragement, seeing how Namjoon nodded looking for a picture of his fiancée to show him. He seemed excited, Jungkook understood his happiness after he explained that he saved for a long time to achieve his dream of getting married in a church. They were both in it together, in looking for a future.

He got lost in his thoughts, maybe if he lied to Hoseok about gaining trust from him, saying that Namjoon was a very cold and quiet man, he could make him forget about it. He sighed squeezing the coffee cup in his hands, Namjoon caught his attention by showing a photo of you smiling at the camera with a background of the bridge and the sun behind making a beautiful background.

Jungkook became alert, having seen that face before.

Hoseok had you as the wallpaper on his phone, he knew it was you because of your characteristic features and the scarf you wore in both photos. You were the new fad of a rich fool.

"T-is ... She's so cute, you're very lucky."

Namjoon nodded with a smile, apologizing before returning to his work upon being called by his supervisor. Jungkook put aside his cup feeling the bitter taste of his thoughts, Hoseok was planning something, he knew he was a son of a bitch who liked to keep his plans under lock and key and in a deep grave. He walked away calling for Jimin quickly, before being accosted by Namjoon who came running over, seemingly forgetting something of the utmost importance.

"I apologized Mr. Jeon, but I wanted to give you this personally. It is an invitation, in addition to the proposal to be the best man at our wedding. My fiancee said that it would be appropriate for me to choose someone and I decided that you were perfect, you can decline if you prefer. . " He spoke kindly, as always. Namjoon seemed to have no hatred in his heart, making his own feel heavy on his chest.

Could he bear the blame?

"It's my pleasure to accept her proposal, thank you for considering me. Good afternoon, namjoon-hyung."

He said goodbye by getting into the car as fast as he could, making Jimin look at him with derision. Obviously noticing his nervousness, Jungkook sighed hiding the invitation as much as he could before reading Hoseok's message ordering him to go to his house to sort out his affairs.

It seemed like a joke as he always looked so flawless, ready to humiliate him again.

"Jungkookie, I'm glad to see you again. Now, we'd better come in for our talk." He smiled making anger grow inside him, Hoseok sat on one of his expensive furniture before pouring himself a glass of wine. "Well, I heard from a little bird that you accomplished your task. Good pet."

"Don't call me that, hyung." He grunted in annoyance, making him laugh. "I can't go through with this, I did what you wanted. Leave Namjoon-hyung alone."

"Oh, they're close now really cute. But you forget that I can't fulfill your wish, because "Namjoon-hyung " is an essential piece in my little game." I speak mocking him as always. "Then we will move on to the next step ..." He thinking for a moment, before snapping his fingers. "Invite him to a bachelor party night at the brothel in the center, I already made the reservation. When they are there, leave him alone. A whore will take care of him properly, and maybe you can go make him a oral another yourself." He sneered evilly, reminding her of his past, Jungkook bit his tongue resisting the urge to respond properly. "Since you're clearly good at it, little pet."

"Yes, hyung."

Hoseok nodded saying for him to leave asap, tired of seeing his stupid face. He got up ready to do so, but his arm was taken tightly before bringing his face closer to hers, Hoseok let out a sigh, doing he could smell his breath of mint and wine combined. His hand lowered him into his pockets dangerously close to his crotch, he bit his lower lip to resist a moan escaping him, this had happened before and he begged it to stop forever. From his pocket, she pulled the invitation out, making her gasp in horror.

"Godfather of wedding, new facet of you... kookie." Rolling he eyes pushing him away from him, he fell to the ground before being met by a blow to his cheek. "What a shitty pet, you idiot."

Two days was enough for you to tremble at the thought. Your dress was proud to be seen, it was the most comfortable dress you could find at a fair price. Namjoon tried to enter but he was stopped by your friend who said that he will wait until you keep the dress out of his sight avoiding bad luck. A smile wavered on your face, everything was perfect up to a point.

Namjoon looked at you, a blush covering his cheeks before asking his obvious question. You didn't expect him to want a bachelor party, but you couldn't refuse because you simply trusted him.

Maybe it was your mistake.

You wished him luck, feeling an inexplicable emptiness. Your friends didn't offer to make one for you, they just sat on the couch in their living room talking about movies and arguing about what color the cake would be. It was the calm before the storm.

Jungkook felt a giant headache, the lights of the place were making him dizzy. Jimin had insisted on going with him to such an 'unusual' place to keep him safe. Namjoon had brought a couple of friends who seemed to be always close to him preventing the woman who did the job Hoseok had him do from becoming difficult.

He smiled, thinking that he would have no choice but to let it go. But Hoseok was not a good loser, and neither was he a good winner.

Hoseok:

He distracts his friends, and be careful what you say, kookie.

Received at 11:30 p.m.

He bit his lip, glancing around the bar, thinking he'd find him sitting somewhere spying on everything but nothing looked suspicious. He sighed, sending Jimin out for drinks with one of Namjoon's friends who he gladly accepted. He got up having pushed one away, the other who introduced himself as Jackson seemed more reluctant to leave his friend alone but with a few excuses about feeling bad managed to get him out of sight.

Believed that he would find Namjoon sitting right where he was before but no, he was gone. He felt a burning feeling of guilt, maybe if you didn't find out, nothing would happen.

"You're still the same as before, boss." Jimin sat down next to him, making him uncomfortable.

"Same as before? I am no longer a child."

"But you continue to obey as one. The manipulation they use on you is your greatest weakness, you are afraid, you obey without hesitation thinking about how this will indirectly affect you. But you never do anything to avoid it, you feel bad about this but you still sit here without doing nothing."

"What can I do, Jimin? I don't know if he really left by his will, or if they forced him. I don't want to enter a room in this dirty place and see him sleeping with another woman, because he wanted to and is a fucking infidel . "

Jimin ignored his words, falling silent after several seconds.

Feeling unhappy is a horrible feeling without a doubt. The curious eyes looked at you as if they themselves could judge your story.

Namjoon disappeared as quickly as the wind, many sharp tongues said that he eloped with a lover so as not to marry you. Others believed it was a kidnapping, maybe a robbery gone wrong and he was taken away or he was killed somewhere far away. A sob escaped you just thinking about it, the detective in front of you watched you cautiously.

"We don't know anything about him yet, but we will continue with the investigations."

You nod, without saying a word. Jungkook came in minutes later with a handkerchief in hand, he observed you before gently hugging you. You had the pleasure of meeting him after Namjoon disappeared that night, he introduced himself as a close friend from work and quickly offered to help you with the search.

Maybe he felt guilt.

"Thanks, Jungkook." You smile wiping the tears that escape from your eyes.

"They are looking for the best they can, they even alerted the Japanese embassies in case they might take him there."

"Japan?" Puzzled questions. "Why would someone take him so far? He's just a man with little money, that's ridiculous."

"We don't know, but I promise I won't rest until I find it."

Hoseok sighs bored, witnessing the moment. He had been bribing the bloody police force to hide the information from you about the discovery of your fiancé's corpse floating in the middle of the waters of the river where they used to go together. The only thing that was removed intact from his clothes was a small photo of you smiling, sitting on the banks of the same river.

The police mourned the death, but his faces left grief when they saw the money in his hands. He made fun of Jungkook as usual, who passed by him ignoring him when he went to his house to talk to his father, he knew that the useless little one was very meddlesome in the search for your future husband and ex-fiance. He rolled her eyes remembering how she used to look at him with discontent in meetings, suspicious of him.

He was a good detective, he couldn't deny the obvious.

"You didn't have to do this, a I'm sorry was enough." You say admiring all the bouquets of flowers that came to your house from him. "And I'm sorry for your loss."

He wasn't sorry.

"My dear, losing a loved one is something without a name. I can give you more than this if you promise to smile again, I love your smiles."

Jungkook snorts approaching you from behind, Hoseok to growl at noticing him so close and see how he puts his hand on your shoulder, apparently like support.

"Hyung, he didn't think it's a good time for ... That."

"But little kook, when is not a good time to express how you feel about your loved one?"

"When that person you say you love is crying over the loss of someone special because of evil people who don't know what remorse is. Do you understand that, hyung?"

"No, not really." He laughs cynically making you lose your patience, your little body comes between the two men, with one already furious and the other inadvertently giving up, you make a face of annoyance before speaking.

"Sirs!" You yell at him immediately, Jungkook steps back adjusting his tie. A mania that he had and that you noticed when he presented himself in front of you with regret, he did it when he was uncomfortable or nervous. "This is not the time to argue, I think you'd better leave my house if you're just wasting your time. Thanks for the flowers Hoseok, and Jungkook ... I, I want to continue the investigation on my own."

"That?!"

"What you heard, don't feel responsible for Namj's disappearance -..." You tremble correcting your words, making Hoseok scoff. "My husband, he was just at the wrong time in the wrong place. Thanks for your help, I'll see how to pay you very soon." Jungkook denies trying to insist but fails when you are already closing the door and giving him an apologetic smile.

Your breath feels heavy, you sigh falling to the ground sobbing again. You wanted to find Namjoon, but a large part of you was afraid of how. Dead, with another woman, with serious injuries or simply ... Alive but with trauma for life. You did not want to see him suffer, it was your judgment in life to see the person you love cry in his pain.

You observe yourself, telling yourself that you would be fine when you find it.

Your email seems to explode with thousands of messages received from people claiming to have seen a man like Namjoon near their homes. You ignore them knowing that most of them were false, the first few days you read all of them giving the police false clues that they quickly denied and dismissed.

You dry your tears, closing all the windows and cooking a simple instant soup, eating in absolute silence. It was overwhelming feeling alone at home, where you were supposed to feel safe indoors.

The rain, thunder, and evil outside seemed to be invisible within that place.

A chill runs through you, the control of the television seemed tempting to calm that neat silence and avoid your boredom. You give up turning on the TV, you see the first channel, you keep changing looking for the unknown, you didn't know what you wanted to see. Maybe a newscast saying they found a tall man with dark brown hair and charming eyes unconscious, with a couple of blows to the face and a few scratches but okay, safe, alive and waiting to see your face waiting for him with a warm smile.

Swearing never ever to let go.

A couple of tears slide down your cheek, ruining your fast food. A few knocks on the door manage to scare you, causing you to bite your lip in anger.

"Who is?!" Questions in a shout.

Nothing.

"It better be good ..." You say in muttered, you open the door expecting to see a child running to his house laughing at his childish joke.

But no, there is no one at the door. Just a small envelope that easily slipped underneath, you take it hoping it's a letter from the police announcing good news. Maybe a simple identification of suspicious faces, or footprints at the club.

"I hate being the bad guy, it makes me feel good.

He's dead, I did it for you. For me. For us. I want to make you happy but it's so difficult when I don't know what you want, tell me what you want.

Love you. Love you. Love you.

My heart is so weak in your cold eyes, I feel that you look at me with ignorance of my feelings. Do you want to find it? Do you want to do it?! Okay. Good luck with it. "

It was everything, plus a picture of a golden ring with a large diamond shining brightly. You wrinkle the letter in anger, tossing it into the first bin you found nearby. It seems that in the end, someone did want to joke with you.

Your days remained the same, you went out to work and in the afternoons you called each of the investigators to ask for new news, it was almost always a solid wall, there was nothing really important to report and little by little, they gave up.

Jungkook knocked on the door, he heard some footsteps approaching making him have a little hope. But when the door opened he saw you with a worried face, he felt his heart squeeze in his chest when he tried to get closer but you avoid him by leaving in a hurry. You were dressed in a long black skirt and a white blouse, you were elegantly ready for something.

"Where are you going?" He ask stopping your hurried pace, taking your arm tightly.

"Yo, listen... He... Or her, I don't know who it is but ... You know, he or her know where, he's alive I know. I just don't have time, please."

Your mouth moves wiht fear, you were hiding something but not from him. You were willing to tell him but not now. Not at that time.

"Let me accompany you, I can take you and I will feel better if you are safe."

You nod, letting go of his grip and running down the stairs, outside there is a very elegant car, apparently waiting. The driver smiles at you as if he had known you before, you make an uncomfortable face trying to continue on your way but Jungkook introduces him saying that he works for him.

"Jimin, he's Jimin. He's a good person and a great friend, I've told him about you before."

"I see, sorry." You speak with a bow before climbing to the back, Jimin just smiles kindly, as always.

"Where are we going today?" He asks animatedly, Jungkook takes your hand for support making Jimin remove the smile from him. Your nervous state and your afflicted face are enough for him to understand the situation.

You give him an address, Jimin searches the map being unknown to the place. Your eyes sparkle when the lights of Seoul are reflected in them, Jungkook holds your hand tightly in fear of letting you go again. He felt sick when you stopped calling him, cutting connections with him totally to this day. He spend sleepless nights looking for more clues, the only thing I had until that moment was the identity of the woman, she was a prostitute without anything special, when he spoke with her he seemed indifferent saying that he did not know Namjoon and that the last time he saw him It was when he drugged him and left him in a room as ordered.

The whore made fun of him saying that he would give him this information if he did not tell the police anything, he obviously accepted. Now he repented, the woman disappeared after that and days later she was found in a garbage container. It seemed to be a suicide, the container was from her building, the window of her old apartment faced just where she was supposed to fall if she threw herself without thinking twice.

Right in the garbage.

The wheels of the car made a thud when it stopped, it was a cabin, the only one nearby. You came down quickly thanking Jimin who just made a flirty face. Your hands trembled with the cold, you look at the letter that tells you where and when you should be standing at the door.

"Wait for me here, if we don't go out or you hear noises, you know who to call."

"Yes sir!" Jimin obeys with a laugh at the boss's serious tone of him.

"Y-you should go, I can do this alone." Your voice rises in the echo of the silent place, Jungkook rolls his eyes before offering his arm to you, making his decision clear.

You laugh calming your nerves, the door opens just as you both step close to it. A man stops them, saying that only you can enter the next room. You stop Jungkook who was to protest, you calm him down by leaving your ring in his hands with a smile.

Your body disappears when another man closes the door silently, Jungkook sighs looking annoyed at the guards who ignore him.

A message coming to his phone distracts him for a few seconds.

Jimin:

Should I call the police, Mr. Jung, or the hospital?

Received at 9:35 p.m.

Smile ready to answer before hearing the door open again, he approaching you to ask everything and at the same time nothing. Your pale face is enough to make want to hit the person who was inside with you. Questions remain in the air, your arms surround him while you sob for forgiveness.

From the shadows Hoseok smiles, admiring the document in his hand, your signature shiny as gold is glued to it. He thought it would be more difficult to convince you to accept his marriage proposal, but the precious and expensive ring fit you perfectly. He raised his hand proudly admiring his own, the wedding would be planned as soon as possible making him jump like a happy child.

You had accepted, with the promise that he would bring you back to Namjoon.

But it was never specified in the contract that he would be alive.

The wedding was in a meadow, outdoors with distinguished guests and a few friends and family of yours. Hoseok greeted everyone, by taking your hand tightly introducing you as his wife immediately. It's as if he wants to show everyone that you now belong to him, as if you were a prize.

And maybe if you gave him the key to her success.

"You better smile my dear, nobody wants to know what will happen if you don't." Her lips brushed your hand before placing a chaste kiss on it. "I love you, my beautiful protagonist."

You sob, tears falling from your face as you melt into his disgusting caresses. The man in front of you, your un-predestined husband. The one who stole the position of your true love, he was kissing you delicately.

"Don't cry, decorate the room just the way you wanted. The photos were a special touch ..." His teeth bit into the sensitive skin of your neck, an involuntary groan of pain escaping. "Love you."

Your eyes move desperately to find a photo where the beaten, abused or dead body of Namjoon cannot be seen. You scream when you find one where you see blood everywhere, you are resigned to look down at the ground where Hoseok was crouching kissing the inside of your thighs.

Your mind tried to process the idea that Namjoon had been killed, mutilated and thrown into a river that washed away his body along with happy memories. Farewell to him was prolonged as your body faded in pain.

Hoseok enjoyed the sight of your eyes tightly closed, his cock throbbing inside you as she fucked you like his wife.

The head of the bed moved crashing into the wall, and unconsciously your walls tightened around it causing it to release a curse aloft to the sky.

We got to the end of the movie, smiled as he dazzled the credits by seeing Jungkook's lost name. His little bitch who was his toy for many years, laughed remembering how she did wonders with her mouth.

He pretended not to know him when her father introduced him, taunting her hurt face.

He held you in his arms tightly, you had been struggling to free yourself from his grip as he continued to abuse you over-stimulating your pussy. Your eyes closed falling asleep from crying so much.

He caressed your face, kissing your dry, chapped lips.

The end.

#bts #bts smut #bts yandere #yandere #kpop #yandere bts #yandere bts au #yandere kpop #yandere!bts #hoseok yandere #yandere hoseok #jhope #yandere! jhope #jhope smut #hoseok smut #bts fic #bts x reader #hoseok x reader #yandere hoseok x reader

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lachimolala-is-love-and-life · 3 years ago

Text

The Strange Case of Kim Taehyung and V 💀💖💦

Chapter nine >

Genre: Horror!Au, Historical!Au, Yandere!Au, Angst, Romance, Smut, Death themes, Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD)

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Words: 4367

Summary: Seoul, South Korea. During a night a man deliberately tramples a child, not caring about her cries. Chased by a passerby, the demonic V agrees to compensate her with money: but the cheque he produces has the signature of the distinguished Taehyung, a doctor esteemed by many. It is the beginning of Taehyung’s fall into a vortex of oddities: he isolates himself, seems tormented by violent anguish, and above all provides V - who inspires instinctive horror, and who is accused of disgusting crimes - not only money, but also protection in his home. What dark covenant can unite such different personalities?

(Plot inspirated by “The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” by Robert Louis Stevenson with some differents. But i wanna give him credits to write this wonderful book. I really love this story and it’s one of my favorite book. Hope to honor this wonderful writer)

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Jungkook... come here to Sinchon... please... I need you... help me..."

"Y/N! What happened to you? Tell me where you are that I run to you right away!!" Jungkook’s voice seemed to be worried about me crying desperately. Usually I never showed my suffering to others, even with whom I was dearest in the world. But now? I needed someone, I didn’t want to be alone...

"Jung... kook. I’m... I’m... at Sinchon... he... he..." I couldn’t talk. The hiccups and lumps in my throat kept me from saying anything...

"Shhh. Calm down. Take a deep breath. If you can’t talk, send me a message with the address and I’ll be right with you. Don’t be afraid!" And when I said that, he finished the call waiting for the message with the address of the house of V...of that horrible monster. How could he do such an inhuman thing to me? Why was he so cruel? From the words with which he described me in his diary, he seemed to love me. But it doesn’t seem like a healthy and normal love, but more like a psychopathic and obsessive love. Such a person had also killed for me... He is the definition of "dangerous man". A rogue like that who for years had stalked me apparently... Tae knew about this? Did you already know of its existence when you still did not know it around? There was a reason if suddenly appeared out of nowhere...

I was completely lost in my thoughts that I did not notice the steps that were fast approaching me, until Jungkook appeared from the door of V’s room.

"Y/N!" he said as he rushed to my side to lock me up in a comfort embrace. Feeling such a gentle and reassuring touch, I burst into tears again. I felt his hand leaning on my neck to get close to his chest and he starts caressing me.

"Hey. Now I’m here to protect you... Try to calm down and take a breath. when you will feel ok, tell me what happened, okay?" He asked me with a sweet voice. I returned his embrace. I needed to feel the warmth of a friendly person and even though I had known him for a short time, I realized that he was a good person I could trust. His grip comforted me and after a few minutes he began to tell him what had happened and what I had found.

"Jungkook... I didn’t tell you where I was going because I thought I was strong and brave even though I knew the danger could be that man... This is his house..." he made me detach from his grip and he began to stare directly into my eyes "His house? You mean..."

"Yes. This is V’s house" His eyes opened cause of surprise "Y/N! it was something irresponsible to come here alone. You know how much danger he’s, and if you still comes in here alone, thinking you're gonna be a hero. If you had asked me to come with you, I would have gladly accompanied you. But what’s on your mind?"

"I know... sorry. You were right" I lowered my head for shame. His words were all correct. If he only came with me, this probably wouldn’t have happened... I wouldn’t have been raped... by that monster...

He took my chin between his thumb and my forefinger and lifted my face to look at it "Hey, don’t worry. I’m here now. Go ahead and tell me what happened to you..."

"When you said at the river that we should start looking for clues to confirm V’s guilt... well... I already knew where to look. Here, in his house surely something would have turned up... I knew where he lived because it was not the first time I met him Do you remember when you told me that a witness kept glimpsing him at night melts in that alley where the accident with the child had happened?" and he nodded at my question "Well, for some nights, I’ve been waiting for a confrontation. Not because he did anything to me, but because he had a weird connection to someone I knew, and I wanted to find out what was underneath that. When I was lucky enough to cross his chimney, he explained to me that he lived here in case I wanted to "visit him", but obviously I never did... until today. I knew he was hiding something. He had to! And so I stupidly came here alone and I started looking around, especially in his room, and I found a checkbook with a few pages ripped half-scorched between the ashes of the chimney and the missing piece of his walking stick..." and I pointed out to him the objects that were still lying on the floor next to that fireplace.

"So... now we know he did it! The missing piece of the stick is here at his house and if it matches the one found at the Han River, the matter is resolved and we can start a manhunt to find V! We will go straight to the bank to block his account so he can no longer run too far away! Then this booklet is similar to the check that he gave to the father of the child as compensation for having hurt her. I recognize it! is definitely his! Y/n you saved the investigation!" he was excited to the news but soon after his expression turned into concern and confusion Jungkook "But that doesn’t explain why you called me crying... What happened after..." I decided that for now I would not tell him about the diary. It was a conversation I had to have before all this with Tae, something was wrong.

"Well... I was analyzing the clues when..." Tears started to form in my eyes again. It was a tremendous experience that would torment me even in my dreams "When I found V in front of me. I didn’t hear that he came back at home and he saw me wandering around in his room... he..."

"He...? Don’t tell me he did what I’m thinking now..." and I nodded "He raped me, Jungkook. It was awful and he was violent with me. He gave me no pity. He had tied my wrists with his belt and tied to the railing of the bed... He had me under his control and I felt... useless, helpless. I feel so dirty Jungkook!" and I burst into tears again. Tears came down and they had no intention of stopping. Jungkook gently grabbed my wrist and pulled down the craze of my shirt in such a way as to show the skin with the bruise where V had tied me.

"I will kill that bastard as soon as I find him! After this murder, rape is added to his list of crimes!" Then he grabbed my face in his hands "I promise you, Y/n! I’ll find him and make him pay for doing this to you! No woman should suffer such atrocity from any human being. I’m gonna take you home, and we’re gonna start making a sketch of V to put in flyers to track him down. We’re gonna find him, and I swear to God, I’m gonna throw him in jail and throw away the key. No i am gonna to destroy it. All right?" and I nodded at his words. Even though he was so young, he had the maturity to understand the gravity of any situation and to keep a cool head without getting caught up in the emotions."

Jungkook took with him all the objects I had found to help him with the investigation but as soon as he invited me out of that room I asked him the favor to go ahead before me. I had to collect that diary and show it to Taehyung. It was all so confusing and I needed him to clear my head once and for all and tell me who his bastard "friend" V was. I have to convince him to tell the truth. He must know it! But as soon as he started looking for its in the place where I had fallen, I realized that there was no trace of it. Where had it gone? I searched but nothing. Before running away, he had taken it with him? I gave up and I went away from there... I never wanted to go back to this house again

Once Jungkook drove me to my house and he made sure I was safe, he decided to leave to begin the search to arrest V as soon as possible. I decided to take a shower instead, I still felt dirty because of the cruel act that V had done to my body. The water in the shower was warm and I burned on the bruises he had left me not only on my wrists, but also on my hips, on my butt and on my inner thigh. He had been so brutal to me... and I left to abandon myself to one last cry before abandoning the heat of the water. It was supposed to be the last cry, and I needed to start building up some courage. If I had to talk to Tae, I couldn’t have been seen in such poor conditions. Who knows if he knew about this whole thing? About murder and my violence? I know it’s only a matter of time before his connection to V comes out and the police go to question him. Tomorrow I would go talk to him and understand this strange and bizarre matter once and for all. Now I just have to fix my thoughts and control my emotions. After a shower, all I needed was a good night’s sleep to try to forget what happened to me today...

The next morning

I woke up after a terruble night and I even more exhausted than the day before. It was a night of only nightmares. There was always this red-eyed shadow with sharp teeth that tried to drag me away with it, get away from the light to prune me in the darkness... It was probably connected to V. Of course that being had to haunt me even in my dreams.

I sighed. It was better to get dressed and go to Tae as soon as possible. I just hope that he doesn't close himself inside his lab again or I’d have to pull him out of there. The matter was serious and I did not tolerate any kind of attempted isolation on his part. Today everything had to be clear and precise and the truth had to come out.

In fact, I swear half an hour, I was already at Tae’s house. I knocked repeatedly on the door until a Jimin with a worried expression opened "Sorry Jimin for the time, but I have to talk to Taehyung immediately"

"Y/n... thank God you’re here. The master is not in himself. He did not eat anything and remains locked in his laboratory. I was going to come to you to try to convince you to talk to him. Please come in and I’ll take you to him" Tae was worried? He already knew everything...?

Jimin made me sit in the house and he took me to the lab door. "There you go. Since yesterday he’s locked up in there and refuses to talk to any of the staff, including me. Try to make an attempt... I beg you," I nodded to the poor butler. He was so worried about his master that it seemed he was close to a crying crisis "Let me do it Jimin. You go on and do your chores. I’ll update you as soon as we finish talking". Jimin gave me a half smile and walked away.

I took a long breath and knocked on the door of the lab, but everything was quiet. Tae probably thought I was one of the servants. I knocked on "Tae... it’s me... I need to talk to you... please..."

After a few minutes of waiting the door opened slightly and a weak voice came out of that small opening "Y/n... please enter... I just want you here... with me... please... come in and close the door"

I did as he asked and as soon as I found myself inside that dusty laboratory, what put me in great anguish was to see Tae in pitiful and desperate conditions...

You could see that he was not well. His hair was all ruffled and his scrubs all scruffy. His skin was pale, white as a ghost, and he had deep black dark circles. His eyes were red and swollen as if he had been crying for hours and probably so seen that his cheeks were damp because of tears.

"Tae..." I whispered to him. But as soon as he saw me he threw himself on his knees in front of me.

"Y/n... forgive me... forgive me because I have sinned. You did not deserve it... Seokjin did not deserve it... two innocent souls that have been stained by the wickedness of a man. And all because I did not have the strength to control him. Forgive me, it’s my fault!" and he burst into a desperate cry. I knelt before him and squeezed him hard at me. He did not return the hug but I could feel that he was leaning with his face in the recess of my neck and wetting my skin with his tears.

"I don’t deserve you... I don’t deserve anyone. I’m a monster..."

"No Tae... you are not the one. It is the fault of that Kim V who did this to you, who is only hurting us... You had nothing to do with what happened to Jin... what he did to me... I know you did your best, I know your heart is pure and you would never do any of this... you’re innocent, all right? You didn’t do anything..."

"Everyone talks about it and the guilt is killing me. I don’t deserve anyone. I was a fool to believe I could control him, but I failed. And now a person is dead and you... you were raped by that monster... You didn’t deserve it, you didn’t deserve it!"

"Shhhh... calm down. Now they’re looking for him and he won’t give you any more trouble. I was so worried about you, Tae... I came to see you to talk to you about something, but seeing you like this... just makes me understand how you’ve been suffering for a long time. Let me help you... Namjoon and I love you so much... let us give you a hand... Don’t isolate yourself and be alone" and my tears started to come down again "I hate to see you suffer... see the person I love the most who is slowly killing himself. I don’t want to lose you Tae. I... I..." And now every word didn’t come out of me no longer came from my mind, but from my heart and in the end what I kept inside for years came out "I... I love you, Tae. I don’t want to lose you... please".

At my words his whining stopped suddenly and he slowly raised his head to look me right in the eye "Do you... do you love me?"

I nodded. Now I didn’t care if he rejected me or not. I just wanted to be there for him and help him.

"You... love me..." he whispered again and slowly he brought his lips close to mine. He was kissing me sweetly. I could taste his salty tears but I didn’t care. His lips were so soft and warm. I had dreamed for years this moment and finally here we are... despite it was a desperate situation to stop expressing my feelings...

"You love me... and I love you..." he said weakly as he detached himself from my lips "How can you love a monster...? I don’t deserve you. You are magnificent... beautiful... how can you love a monster who couldn’t protect you, my princess, from the evil of the devil... I had to... I had to..." I kissed one more time so he wouldn’t keep talking.

"It’s not your fault. It’s his fault... I love you Tae and I don’t want you to destroy yourself because of him, because of his evil actions... You are...an angel..." He leans his forehead on my

"You are an angel, princess... but I swear to God. I swear by all the love I feel for you that I am done with that man! I will make him disappear forever. You will never hear from him again... I promise you..."

I kept staring at him, "He’s just a murderer! A monster! And I will protect you with everything I have from his intentions! You’ll never hear from V again."

I began to gently caress his cheek "You trusted that man so much... if there should ever be a trial against him... Your name might come up..." he grabbed my hand "There’s a reason I can assure you that it won’t cause any more trouble... I have a proof... and it’s this letter..." he said as he pulled an envelope out of his lab coat pocket.

"My Princess... I want you to have this letter. You decide whether or not to show it to the police. It’s from V and D it’s better to leave it in your hands. Do whatever you want with this. You’ll make the right choice... you’ve always done it... I no longer care about the fate of that man. He only brought tragedy and now he has completely lost my support."

I grabbed the letter and once I opened the envelope, I started reading it.

"I am sorry to have worried you. I was the beneficiary of the kindness of Dr. Kim for a long time. I am sorry I was not able to repay it. I have a safe and reliable system for my escape. You don’t have to worry about me anymore - Kim V"

"So... he left... did he really leave?" the letter had taken a burden off my heart. Maybe now without him in the neighborhood... Tae and I could live together peacefully.

"Yes... you’ll never hear something about him anymore. I promised... my love..." and he said that kissed me one last time.

"Then I’ll keep it with me for now and in case I conduct some other investigation"

"I trust you. I’ve always trusted all the choices you’ve made so far. Now let’s get off this floor. I start to feel sore in my knees" He took my hand and together we stood up.

"You know, Tae. I should probably go. I have some work to do and... But if you need me, I can always send them back to after" He shook his head "Nono go. I’m sure you have a lot to catch up on... but thank you for coming all this way. That’s one of the many reasons why I’ve always loved you..." I reddened. To think that Tae and I have been feeling the same things for years but we have always been cowards in dealing with our feelings makes me laugh a bit. Better late than never, right?

Now I saw him slightly better now that he had let off steam, but still a frown in his expression still did not convince me that he had told me everything. Maybe we should just forget and move on?

"Ah, Tae. Before I go. I have to ask you something... In his house V kept a diary where he talked that he always hid from us, but he had been watching us for years and that he had finally freed himself? I don’t know what he was talking about or what he meant. But I got really weird when he talked about what happened at the party with Seokjin... but he wasn’t there. Tae, I need to know... have you known about him since we were young?" He suddenly swung and began to stagger, but before he could fall I ran to him to lean on me.

"Hey, Tae... don’t worry," I told him as I sat him in the chair he had in the lab.

"Sorry... these two days have been terrible and I did not take care of myself. I’m practically exhausted ah ah ah. I just need to rest."

"Tae Tae..."

"About your question before... I swear by all the love I have for you that I didn’t know him before. He suddenly appeared in my life like a lightning bolt. I didn’t know him and he didn’t know me, but we both felt that there was something that bound us... as if we were... one person... but now he assures you. Forget his name and there will be no reason to remind you. Understood?"

I nodded as I grabbed his hand. It was so cold. He really needed to rest.

"Tae... I know you want to sleep now, but..."

"But, um..."

"... the terms of the will in case of your disappearance, it was V who threatened you and made you add them"

"Y/n... let’s say... yes..." I knew! That asshole must have threatened him with violence against him or those who love!!

"Tae... you’ve always been in danger. He wanted to kill you from the start!"

"Y/n...." and he lowered his head not to cross my gaze "That’s not the problem. I discovered something more important... something really very important..."

"Tae... "and I put my hand on his forehead. It was very hot. Probably the fever was leading him to total delirium.

"Tae... you’ll tell me at another time. Come with me... I’ll take you to bed in your room. You’ve been a damp room for too long. You need your strength back. Come with me."

I made him stand up and I gave him a hug around my shoulders to help him walk. Slowly we arrived in his room and I put him on his bed and tucked in his sheets. Feeling the softness of his mattress and pillow, Tae fell asleep immediately. Who knows what a bad time V had made him pass. But now I was one less problem. Finally he could rest and live peacefully. I gave him a kiss on the forehead and I left his room.

Jimin was waiting for me in the living room and as soon as he saw me, he ran towards me "So, Y/n? all right with the master?"

"Jimin... everything is fine with Tae. He had some thoughts going through his head but now he has calmed down and I put him to bed. Take care of him, he’s got a fever."

"Trust me. I’ll make him feel better and Dr. Kim who we all know will return!"

"I trust you" but before I could leave, something came to mind, "Jimin sorry... let me ask you a question. Did Tae between today and yesterday receive an envelope delivered by someone other than the postman? Do you know if V came by here to give him something?"

Jimin shook his head "Nothing was delivered except the usual mail. And there were no letters in between but only pamphlets and some bills. No one’s seen him in the last two days."

"I understand, thanks Jimin. I’ll be back soon to visit Tae and see how he’s doing. I know he’s not in good hands" and said that I went home.

It was late afternoon and I decided to light the fireplace. The crackling fire its heat was helping me to reflect on what had happened this morning with Tae. On the one hand I was glad that V had left and that Tae and I had confessed our mutual feelings but on the other hand I was worried... Was it really over? And that letter? Probably you gave it to Tae personally... it must have been that way. It was probably written in Tae’s studio. Better to be cautious and think carefully before acting. So I decided to call a trusted friend, Choi Yeonjun. He will definitely be able to analyze the handwriting. So I picked up the phone and called him.

"Hello, Yeonjun. How are you? I need your help tonight..."

That night

Yeonjun had just arrived at my house in a hurry. I had briefly explained to him what had happened and why I needed his service. He showed up as punctual as ever. He was a very respectable man and took his decisions seriously.

"Is this the letter with the calligraphy to analyze?" he asked me while I handed him the sheet "Yes, this is it. It’s a strange story and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the details, but for now I prefer to leave them out... it’s all quite confused..."

"Don’t worry, I understand your situation. It was all sudden and shocking for you I imagine. Especially with the death of Mr Kim Seokijin..."

A weight to my heart was felt on my chest. Thinking of his death made me angry. How dare V do such a cruel thing to him of his stupid and psycho fantasies?

"... the man who attacked him must be a madman"

"He’s crazy, Yeonjun. The letter I just gave you was written by him. I want the matter to stay with us for now, please. Because above all I still do not know what to do with it... V seems to have disappeared and the letter itself is useless right now. Anyway, I want you to take a look at it. From the writing of people you can understand many things..."

"Exactly. Trust me," he said while analyzing handwriting with the naked eye, "Calligraphy itself is readable, but very bizarre at the same time. See how he tends to lean to the left?" he said as he showed me, "...that’s not a normal way to write."

"You’re right. Is it.... strange?" But immediately after Yeonjun’s gaze he turned to a piece of paper that was on my table. I approached and began to study it "Excuse me if I ask you... but this is from Dr. Kim"?

"Yes why? It was the letter found near the cover of Seokjin. It was no big deal. Jungkook gave it to me when he drove me home yesterday. He just says that Tae would apologize on behalf of Jin for his behavior at a party he set up a long time ago."

"Well... it’s very interesting. There’s a very peculiar resemblance between the two calligraphies. The angle of the pen is a bit different"

"Really?"

"Sure. It’s weird... isn’t it?" Tae told me that he didn’t know V before then, but as soon as they met, he felt a kind of connection, as if they were... a single entity... their writing is similar... or are the words that Tae told me are really true or...

"Please. Don’t divulge what has been discovered. I need to reflect."

"I understand you. I’m leaving, but if I find anything else, you’ll be the first to know," and he left me alone in my thoughts.

"You bastard V! Tae forged a letter to favor V!" Why would you do that? You probably wanted to do him one last favor before he disappeared into the darkness?

I couldn’t think of anything. A terrible headache was starting to throb on my temples. Well, V had left right? It was no longer a problem and so it is useless to ask certain questions now. Better go to rest. If anything ever comes up on V again, it will be the first to intervene to stop it. Tae has suffered more than enough. And having said that, I sat down in my chair while the heat of the fire helped me relax. And that’s how I let myself go into a dreamless sleep.

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savagesbonergarage · 4 years ago

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Nightsister OC pics and backstory ❤️

So I kinda got my Nightsister oc worked out today!

Meet Eilantha!

No makeup and with makeup since I like both. :) I know her outfit is Rey’s, but it turned out to be the one I liked best after going through all of them. This was so much fun to do! I’m on mobile rn so I don’t have a link, but search ‘rinmaru star wars avatar creator’ and it should be the first result.

The nightbrother is also an oc called Sever. He’s more bulky in my head and his tattoos are different and more brown than black, but whatevs. Also he looks more like a teenager here, which is NOT the vibe, lads. Mans is in his late 20's-early 30's. 👍

I know I’m sorta biased and all since she’s mine, but I’m in love with her? I’m not a huge fan of the Nightsisters and their misandry and general terrible-ness, but this girl is the exception. 💕 Learn more about her under the cut if you’d like. :)

She was born in 46BBY, making her around 27 in the final year of the clone wars. From the time she was a youngling it was clear that she had a natural affinity for magicks and spellcasting, which allowed her to participate in more advanced rituals and rites from an early age. This inevitably caused some contention among the sisters in her age group that felt this privilege was wasted on her, and therefore she had few friends during her time within the coven. She didn’t really mind, as she preferred to spend her days on her own anyway, learning as much as she could about whatever she fancied (usually spells that piqued her interest whose texts she discreetly snuck from within the cavern).

When she wasn’t studying, she loved music - writing, playing, and singing. It wasn’t anything like the typical malicious sounds of tribal chanting and drums you’d hear from within the grotto; not that she didn’t appreciate that also as she practiced it well, but her heart leaned toward a softer, more soothing genre of arias and melodies, bordering on lullabies based on her wanderlust, and, though she’d never admit it, her loneliness.

As she reached adulthood, she underwent the trials for her dark baptism as all Sisters did, which consisted of returning from a challenging hunt to add a token from her kill to the Water Of Life, and receiving her ichor tattoos that signified her coming-of-age before being ritualistically bathed in the ominous liquid which sanctioned her as an active member of the Nightsisters.

After this, I have two different routes (or however many, depending on who I’m shipping her with at the moment 😅 bc I ship her with everyone, no lie) that I like to take with her story. The first is expanded upon in the fic by @fallenrepublick here (still my favorite thing!) where she starts sneaking away into the nightbrother village and befriends Savage and Feral before they go through Asajj’s selection trails. This is the nicer, less-traumatic arc.

This next one gets really, really dark. I'm not going to post it all here bc honestly this post doesn't need all that angst, so I'll save that for later. Essentially, I like to think that Eilantha did at one time have a nightbrother of her own (Sever) that she actually loved, rather than treated as a slave. As you can imagine it doesn't end well, but we're not gonna get into that. We'll talk about how they meet. :)

Instead of sneaking away to the village, Eilantha is pressured into conducting her own selection trails by Mother Talzin. She doesn’t inherently have any reason to object, after all, she was taught that this is was simply the way of things. Part of her even looked forward to obtaining a manservant, whose loyalty would belong to her and her alone.

Perhaps he’d be a useful asset when it came to sneaking spelltomes to and from the vaults, and maybe he’d even be the only one staying by her side while she practiced her songs. What if he’d even appreciate them? Not that he’d have much of a choice, but the thought was comforting nonetheless.

From the moment she stepped foot in the village, all she could focus on was the feeling of the uneasy and fearful gazes of the men who undoubtedly knew more of what was to come than she did. She chose her roster at random, unsure of what she should have really been looking for or what she actually wanted from a servant. Even before the fighting, she knew deep down that she didn’t want to inflict any unnecessary harm on them…but why? From what she’d overheard at home, the violence was half the fun.

It wasn’t.

She evaded and blocked every blow with ease, yet avoided retaliating and taking the offensive in any manner that would prove fatal, causing the battle to go on far longer than anticipated to the point where Brother Viscus insisted that she take the next opening for the kill. With reluctance, the blade of her weapon collided with the ribs of the next brother to reveal himself a target. She watched in horror as the light faded from his hateful, reflective eyes, and she was nearly sick. She didn’t want to do it, but it had been done, and it couldn’t be undone. His body thudded against the ground and she screamed.

“Enough!”

The battlefield went silent, and as she came to her senses she attempted to save face.

“I’ll have none of them!”

Before Brother Viscus could interject with any alternative propositions, she was gone. She ran, fleeing as far away across the rocky terrain as she could. She didn’t cry; at least not until she was certain she was alone. She felt so pathetic - Nightbrothers were meant to be disposable, yet she couldn’t handle killing one. Her shame shifted into heartbreak, and she crouched low and wept for the death of the brother she’d just caused, as well as for all those who came before him. All the needless, thankless, mindless deaths of these men whose lives may not have mattered to the Sisters, but they mattered to someone.

As night fell, she trudged along the jagged landscape and thought of what explaination she’d give to Mother Talzin upon returning home. She had run in the opposite direction of where her speeder was stationed at the base of the village, so she had plenty of time to consider on the long journey back. She casually hummed a tune to herself in some meager attempt to self-soothe, which served to distract the shadow that had been trailing her for some time. The sound of a twig snapping in the rocks behind her alerted her to the presence and she confronted him.

"Are you lost?" she asked in a derogatory tone after he revealed himself.

"I'm not."

Of course not, this was his home, after all. She couldn't say the same for herself, however, she pressed him further.

"Then why are you following me? I never asked for an escort."

The amber-skinned nightbrother looked as though he were choosing his words carefully, though if his aim was self-preservation he'd done a terrible job of it.

"I saw you crying."

Eilantha was hit with a pang of embarrassment, though she feigned otherwise as her eyes met the ground.

"Well, you can forget what you saw. Now leave me alone."

She turned away, but the brother remained there in quiet contemplation before he spoke again.

"I've never seen a Sister cry. I've never seen a Sister feel."

Something about those words struck her directly in her heart. The confirmation that she was inherently considered to be a heartless monster in the view of these villagers hurt a little more than anticipated, though she had no right to refute it. No amount of apologies would ever remedy the divide that separated the Nightsisters from the Nightbrothers, regardless of how she felt. She clenched her fist as she turned to face him again.

“I said, leave me alone. Don’t make me-”

She actually choked on her words, unable to say the rest.

Don’t make me put you in your place.

Despite her partial warning, the nightbrother stepped closer. He grabbed the edge of his already tattered tunic and tore a piece of it off, inspecting it for cleanliness before holding it out to her. Eilantha froze, uncertain of what to make of this interaction.

“You aren’t done,” he explained.

She hadn’t realized that her hot tears continued pouring down her cheeks during her retort. She accepted the cloth with some reluctance, her dainty fingers lightly brushing against his as she took it and dabbed it against her wet face. He promptly turned and started walking away, as instructed. This strange...kindness, or rather, strange act of servitude via obligation perturbed the young witch, whose thoughts were now fixated solely on the zabrak male.

“Wait, Brother,” she implored.

He paused, resuming his attention to her after hearing the endearing use of “brother” from a Sister’s lips for the first time. She continued, an unusual softness in her tone.

“What is your name?”

“It’s Sever,” he revealed, “May I ask yours, Sister?”

She repeated his name in her mind, determined never to lose it.

“Eilantha.”

He did the same, only out loud. Gods, it was an enticing sound.

"Will you be returning?"

This was a question she wasn't prepared to receive, and one that she herself didn't fully know the answer to. Her reply was engineered from a concerned sigh.

"I'm not sure. It might be problematic returning to the coven empty-handed. I may come back, I may not. I don't know what the future holds."

Sever pursed his lips slightly.

"If you do find yourself here again, will you..."

He coughed into his fist and centered himself before continuing.

"Will you consider me?"

Her eyes shot up to meet his hopeful gaze, a golden yellow in the night. She had a hunch as to what he was alluding to, but a little clarification was needed.

"Consider you...?"

He swallowed, his countenance displaying concern that perhaps he was stepping too far out-of-bounds this time, but he wanted to know all the same.

"As your mate."

Eilantha clutched the piece of fabric in her hand. This man was offering himself to her. The images of all the nightbrothers staring her down when she first arrived with fear in their faces raced through her mind, revealing the dread the men felt when they were met with her kind, and yet this one was volunteering. She wasn't sure if she should be flattered or angry, as any other Sister likely would be at a savage that dared to seek special permissions. Of course, she wasn't like that.

Imagining him as her mate, however, was certainly...something. She thought of how she would discover just how much of him was tattooed and he would learn the same of her. She could claim him right then and there if she wanted, and he would be obliged to obey. It would solve her worries about returning home if she decided on a servant after all, although, her soul was unsteady. Though she was entitled to any male she desired, she couldn't allow herself to do it. Even though this man was offering, it would weigh on her conscience knowing that even a part of him would only be with her out of fear and obligation, rather than his own free will. This nightbrother wasn't free. None of them were.

"I'll consider it," she replied genuinely.

This news seemed to please him to some extent, a tiny smirk curling at the corner of his lip.

"I'll look forward to the possibility of serving you, Sister Eilantha."

She watched as he turned a final time and disappeared further into the darkness, leaving her alone with her busied mind.

The course was set for the Nightsister temple once she finally got to her speeder, servant-less. She looked over her shoulder to see multiple pairs of glowing golden eyes quizzically prying at her in the darkness, and she smiled before taking off.

It was a long journey home, and the entire trip her mind was occupied with thoughts of the intriguing zabrak male who saw her for what she truly was. She pulled out the tattered cloth from her pocket and pressed it against her chest as the wind rushed all around her before bringing it to her lips and kissing it.

It became her greatest treasure.

That is, until she finally had the real deal in her arms months later when the separation became too much to bear, and they arranged to meet in secret during their first rendezvous of many.

Sever, my treasure.

#Nightsister #nightbrother #star wars ocs #Eilantha x Sever #savage opress #feral opress #dathomir #maul #darth maul #mother talzin #tcw #brother viscus #oc x canon

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tuancore · 4 years ago

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Lost You (Part 11) :

Starring- Jinyoung x reader

Genre- Angst

Summary- It's your choices and actions which made you miserable.

Standing outside your apartment's door, you examined the door briefly, every single line and curve, remembering the time when you both first moved to this apartment after coming to Seoul, everything flashing before your eyes, rethinking your each and every decision in life. When you first came to Seoul, you felt like an outcast but with Jinyoung by your side, you had that hope of everything going to be alright, can't believe that same Jinyoung became so unfamiliar to you. Twisting the doorknob, you stepped in, just like the first time you entered with him.

Your eyes were covered with a velvety blindfold, you felt like stumbling every now and then in your heels, not knowing where he was actually taking you. He took you by surprise by picking you up in his arms, your hand naturally flying behind his shoulders. He chuckled seeing that terrified expression on your face, "Easy, angel I'm not going to drop you".

"Jinyoung, I swear if you're taking me to some horror house, you know how horrible they are" But he didn't reply you but kept on chuckling, making your stomach churn with anticipation. A ding sound, perked your ears, it was an elevator. He stepped out of it walking for awhile and then stopping again, "Angel,I found the best place for us, exactly what we were looking for", stepping in he gently placed you on your feet, slipping your blindfold.

"Welcome to our home" He grinned, seeing your shocked reaction. You gasped seeing all the showpieces and furnitures, all were exactly the same what you used to always discuss with him. You faced him with tears of joy in your eyes, smiling adoringly at him, "Everything....is exactly the same...". He nodded, hugging you gently while you melted in his arms,"You're such a crybaby..." Wiping your tears he cupped your face with both of his hands,staring into your eyes, he said,"I promise you angel, as long as I am with you I won't let you shed a single drop of tear. And that I'll keep you forever happy and safe in my arms".

The truth is promises are meant to be broken. You always heard that but never believed it until today. All of his words were nothing but sugar coated sweet talks, none of his promise were meant to keep. Dragging your feet to the middle of the living room, you stared at the large couch, it was Jinyoung's decision to keep it there so that you both could cuddle and watch movies on Sundays in each other's arms.

What was that for if he couldn't trust you enough?

Your gaze shifted towards the wall in the front, which at this point looked like some stalker's wall. Jinyoung out of many of his hobbies he was very much passionate for photography as well, and his all time favourite muse was you. You remember, how he used to budge you night and day to pose for him, most of the time you obliged which made him always run after you with a camera. After some time you got irritated, of his constant clicking, so you strictly ordered him to not to click your pics.

"Okay Okay! I won't ask you anymore to pose for me" He rose his hands in surrender, seeing a huge pout on your face.

He loved clicking your pics but it got irritating for you, since you wanted to enjoy moments with him without phones and cameras while he wanted to capture all the moments to reminisce about. So he found another way to keep on clicking your pics rather asking you to pose for him, he took your candid shots, whenever you fell asleep, or when you watered the plants, or when you cooked, when you jammed to your favorite songs, when you read books, or whenever you did some work on your laptop. He just loved you and only you. The wall was wall less and your face in frames more.

What was that for if he couldn't love you enough?

Out of so many pictures one was your favourite, subconsciously you walked closer to the frame taking out from the wall, caressing the image ever so lightly. It was a photo which was a candid shot clicked by JB, when you all went to the Disneyland in LA while visiting Mark's parents there.

"Why are you grinning like that?" Mark asked seeing your stupid grin, but failed to noticed two cones of ice cream in your hands. So you extended your hands showing him the cones, "My favourite ice cream!".

"Two cones? Each with five scoops?" Jackson commented not believing your childishness, "Ten scoops, are you even a girl?". Glaring at him you muttered 'idiot',"Of course I'm a girl that's why I love ice cream".

"More than Jinyoung?" Youngjae asked, teasing you on purpose. "Obviously!", You tilted the heads of both the cones forming a triangle as they the topmost scoops touched eachother, others mouthing an 'Ugh'. Your sparkly eyes became crescent happily biting on the scoops at once, when all of a sudden Jinyoung appeared out of nowhere back hugging you, his mouth on top of your head making it look as if he was about to bite you. Thats when JB clicked it. It was such an adorable picture and your favourite as well.

Someone really has said the truth, that only pictures last forever. Gripping the huge photogframe harshly in your hands, you threw it with a sudden force making it land at the corner of the room with a loud shattering noise. Everything was already over, so what was the need to keep reminiscing over such petty things.

___________

"Youngjae-ah.....Why?....." Jinyoung whispered in disbelief holding onto Youngjae's shoulder, he couldn't believe that Youngjae whom he thought of his smaller brother would hurt him in the most cruel way possible.

"It's not only Youngjae hyung but your so called friend Jisoo too" BamBam hissed, at the thought of Jisoo. Jinyoung snapped at BamBam with shock, another hard punch in his gut, "What are you saying?....".

"Yes, Youngjae and Jisoo were the ones playing you, noona and Jackson hyung like a puppet without any of your knowledge and if you think I'm lying then why don't you ask Youngjae hyung yourself" BamBam concluded with a stern face. Jinyoung turned around facing Youngjae with a furious eyes.

"Why the fuck would you do this to us?! Why Youngjae!?! Why!!" Jinyoung snarled gritting his teeth, his hands wrapped around Youngjae's throat almost cutting his oxygen, Mark and Jackson pulled him from Youngjae while he coughed his lungs out, his own tears spilling out.

"Because I love her....I always have....It hurt everytime I saw her in your arms smiling and giggling, I—.....I felt that it could've been me instead of you whom she loved more than her life.....and to protect my heart from bleeding anymore. I seperated you both" Youngjae's explanation made everyone beyond shocked. They all never thought the reason behind it was another complication.

"The fuck did you say Youngjae!!" Jinyoung growled breaking from Jackson's and Mark's grasp, landing a harsh punch on Youngjae's face which made him fall on the couch behind him, Jinyoung hovered over him punching him a few more times.

"Stop It Jinyoung! Stop it!!" Jaebeom and Mark shouted trying to get him to stop but he was too mad to pay attention to those words, when Youngjae pushed Jinyoung from him throwing a punch at his face, with blood gushing out of his own nose.

"STOP IT! JINYOUNG, STOP IT! CHOI YOUNGJAE!".

Youngjae got up on his feet, wiping the blood spurting out of his nose from his hoodie's sleeves, his cheeks also scraped from Jinyoung's hard punches.

"Since when?" Jackson asked sternly, glaring at him. Youngjae smiled at the mere thought of you, continuing, "Since University, she was my senior. I fell in love with her over time, she was not only gorgeous but kind as well. She saved me from getting bullied almost for an year and after that everyone stopped bullying me, how could I just not fall for her? I planned to confess her but Jinyoung hyung beat me to it! And my heart shattered when she accepted his love, I was broken......".

"Bullshit! You never told me that you were getting bullied back then!Plus she never told me" Jinyoung asserted. "I was! But whenever I was with you all I saw was you drowning in stress to get your master's degree and your father's constant ranting, so I kept quiet!".

"She never told you because I asked her to promise me to not to let you know about me getting bullied otherwise you'll get another reason to stress over and I didn't want you to!"Youngjae informed with his fists clenched in rage, "When she finally became your girlfriend, I thought of moving on so I tried dating but hell not a single girl I've been with could compare to her, I tried hard to convince myself that she belonged to you, she loves you but no my heart wouldn't listen.....it continued to ache for her, how could I just throw away the love which I had for her for past five years!".

With that Youngjae began to untangle all the strings, how he saw Jisoo working for Jinyoung, and from the way she looked at his with those heart eyes was enough to tell that she was in love with him, so he proposed the idea to Jisoo while as accepted it without any second thoughts. All they were waiting was for a right time and a perfect plan, and they got that exact opportunity when he saw you and Jackson meeting frequently without Jinyoung in range.

Coming to those photographs, he didn't had to do much at all, he simply clicked the pictures of Jackson's bedroom with every minor details, and technology gave him the exact environment Jackson's room had, but the real problem was in finding a boy who had same physique as that of Jackson and vice versa for the girl, so that your faces could be photoshoped accordingly, but that stupid girl forgot to hide her streaked hair.

"If you loved noona so much then why did you slut shame her like this?" Yugyeom snapped. "Jinyoung hyung was always insecure of the boys around her, so I kicked him on his weak spot. I couldn't believe when he believed in those fake photographs more than his own girl, I guess he really didn't deserve her".

"Youngjae......it's not love, it's obsession. Love is when you let the person you love just be happy, you completely shattered her! Jisoo and you both hurt the persons you loved! If you really loved her your heart would've ripped out everytime she suffered! It's not love Youngjae-ah, it's your obsession,it can't be love, it's not love........it's not......." JB croaked out choking on his own tears.

"After what you've done to her, Do you think she'll ever come to you? Do you?" Mark belted angrily. "She won't come to me but atleast she won't go to him either" Youngjae hollered with a sick grin, "And that's enough for me. If she can't be mine then she won't be his either".

"Youngjae fucking get out before we really do something to you which we'll regret for eternity!" JB yelled, motioning towards the door, shooting a last smirking gaze towards Jinyoung, he left without a protest.

Jinyoung dropped to his knees, feeling all the pain you felt through these days, all the tears you've shed for the pain he has given you. Small painful whimpers escaping his lips, everyone watched him crying.

"As much as I want to sympathise with you.....I can't, it's you who have brought this upon yourself" JB commented with a poker face eventhough his heart ached for Jinyoung. JB's remark send him further into the pit of guilt and remorse.

"Please..... forgive me......please....." Jinyoung stammered out sobbing hard, "I'm sorry.....I'm so so sorry", he just kept on pleading to the others, even when they were hurting seeing him before their eyes they were well aware that sooner or later this day will come, and Jinyoung will regret his each and every deed.

"You are sorry? You should be sorry. After whatever you've done to her, Do you think you deserve forgiveness?" Jackson crouched down beside him, his words hitting Jinyoung's heart like a dagger.

"Jackson.....I'm sorry......please forgive me. I was so wrong" He cried hugging Jackson, even if he wanted to hate Jinyoung, he couldn't Jinyoung was not only his friend but more of a brother. Unable to control his tears, Jackson sobbed hugging Jinyoung tightly letting him cry on his shoulder.

"Jinyoung hyung.....at some point we all can forgive you but the question is, Will Noona forgive you?" Yugyeom countered in a mere whisper. Jinyoung clutched onto Jackson's shirt, mumbling a quiet "No....".

"How am I supposed to apologise to her?" Jinyoung stared at Jackson for some assurance but found none, "I....I called my angel.....a slut.....how can I? I am such a monster, I even slapped her......when all she did was telling me the truth.....I hurt her, My angel begged me on her knees still I accused her of something so horrible. How can I be so heartless?....... Jackson, I—I made her feel so inferior......" Jinyoung gulped the knot forming in his throat as realisation hit him, facing BamBam he stammered, "BamBam....you said she is pregnant..... I—I despised my own child....our child.....How monstrous was I to hurt her this bad!!......".

By now everyone's eyes gleamed with tears, it was surely painful for him, but it wasn't anything compared to yours. Jinyoung has completely robbed you of your happiness, your everything, he tossed you away like you never meant anything to him while you continued to prove your innocence stepping on your self respect, self esteem. To be honest, he didn't deserve any forgiveness at all.

"Even if everything was set up by Youngjae and Jisoo, the way the things have degraded to, wouldn't have if you.....you" BamBam pointed out his finger at Jinyoung, "If you had faith on Noona, even a tiny bit, none of this would be happening right now. Instead of you crying here and she there, you both would be laughing and smiling in each other's arms........Loving eachother, accept it or not but you never trusted her enough. The way she was hurt, when you chose Jisoo over her......Gosh I can never forget the look in her eyes, She looked dead......so dead!".

Yugyeom patted BamBam's back with an attempt to calm him down, Yugyeom continued, "You can only pray for noona to forgive you. Everything is in her hands now".

The intense air subsided around everyone as BamBam's phone rang, answering the call immediately, he whispered, "Hello...".

The words from the other end broke BamBam to his soul, the phone slipped through his hands as he stared at Jinyoung completely emotionless.

"Noona had.....she had.....a miscarriage".

Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12

Note: I'm not editing the drafts before posting them, so if you guys spot any errors, please let it slide, thank you so much ~~~

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#got7 angst #got7 x reader #got7 imagines #got7 jinyoung #jinyoung imagines #got7 jackson #got7 bambam #got7 jaebeom #got7 mark #got7 youngjae #got7 yugyeom #jinyoung au #jinyoung angst #jinyoung x reader

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onlymingyus · 1 month ago

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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.

w/c; 30k and some change (870 extra words for patreon bonus) [3.4k this teaser]

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

Hearing his name, the self-appointed leader of your group, slows his strides to match yours and, in turn, Caitlin’s. “What about me?”

“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.”

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.”

“Nope, not yet. Give me a few hours and I’ll be so fuckin’ chill I might not remember your name.”

“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.”

“Already paid for. See…” Reaching over the counter, Christen rips two tickets for himself before winking at Vernon and passing one to you.

“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.”

“Oh, my god. Does this place not have anyone else working?”

“Oh my god, Y/N, do you remember Miss Lewis’ calculus class from that last semester?”

“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.”

“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 want my jacket?”

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.

“Hey… Vernon?”

“Sure, it’s whatever. Didn’t bother me—”

“Please, can we just go?” Your voice is strained as you push at Christen, unable to get him to budge.

READ THE FULL FIC NOW ON PATREON

#vernon smut #vernon horror #seventeen smut #svthub #seventeen horror #seventeen angst #vernon angst #vernon toxic #seventeen toxic #svt horror #svt smut #svt angst #seventeen #vernon x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

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scriptaed · 5 years ago

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Ink Nemesis Finale

Genre: Angst/Fluff || paparazzi!au; fake dating!au;

Pairing: Reader x Yoongi

Length: 9.1k;

Synopsis: As an aspiring writer drowning under the public’s radar, a click of the pen is all you need to accept your supervisor’s offer to co-write an article for the SS - Secrets Spilled, a regular section of your company’s weekly tabloid; but fabricated stories and invasive details aren’t all that you write when you discover Min Yoongi’s dirty little secret.

A/N: First off, I want to thank everyone who read/reads this series. This may not be my most “popular” work, but it’s one that I will always be proud of. If it weren’t for you guys who always encouraged me to write whatever I wanted to write, I would most certainly not be here writing today. A whole two years since I started this series and there are still some of you patiently waiting for an update. I’m floored. This message and this finale are all that I can give you but I hope you know your care for me as a human and not a robot who happens to write means more to me than words can express. Whenever I feel myself straying from my real reasons for writing, I will recall this fic and all the messages of support you guys sent me... and for those who have no idea what I’m saying: the feelings the mc goes through in this fic is a reflection of my own. Words were my only way of spilling my heart when I went through a hard time last year, so this series is my form of an open book that explains why I took a break. If you still have no idea what I’m saying: enjoy the finale! c:

Life has its own twisted ways with irony. One minute, allies would swear allegiance to your fickle heart; and in another minute, you would be trembling in horror, for your arch nemesis had infiltrated your walls under their own wicked disguise. For better or for worse, the most betraying and hard-hitting realization dawns upon you one storm too late… maybe, and just perhaps maybe, friends and foes are merely two sides of the same coin, plotting and pulling the strings behind the scenes that would prove to be your final downfall; and if there’s anything you’ve despised the most in life, it would be the eerily identical lessons both your greatest allies and enemies have incessantly and irrevocably ingrained within you.

One, time can heal even the deepest of wounds and the nastiest of scars.

...but they don’t know the depth and length of which your gaping wounds run. Enemies don’t know the scars that transcend through time and the way it lurks at every corner and creeps into your veins, until the time when you finally notice is one epiphany too late and the trauma has already rooted itself into your daily life for perpetuity. No one but you can really gauge how long it would take for you to recover from your falls—or if you ever would, that is. Because right now, sitting here with a flesh wound in a gaping heart, you could only attest to this: pain ages like fine wine.

Two, people can recognize their mistakes and change for the better.

…or at least that’s what optimists like to tell themselves; but the reality is, in your cold albeit truthful experience, people can only change to an extent. You were still bitter, you were still self-serving, you were still every bit of that wicked woman whom had spoiled your relationships and woken you with cold sweat in the middle of your nightmares-come-reality. Surely, the woman had been forcefully tranquilized under your hands, but her tracks remain like crimson stains on the purest of snowfalls. You can feel it every so often. From time to time, you can feel her peeping one of those bewitched, scarlet eyes of hers, threatening to awaken if it weren’t for your honed abilities to quell the scorching fire. She remains in you, an innate and inevitable part of you, but your chains around her neck keep her tethered and you from another episode.

So how exactly, you would like to inquire from both friends and foes, have you changed?

Evidently not much—that, you can answer, for your days of woe remain painfully prevalent even as you sit here, one year into a nightmare that you just can’t seem to awake from, mulling over how differently things would have played out between you and him, wondering what he was doing and what he had immersed himself into this time around, and pondering for days over whether he ever sat down in a chair and stared off into the distance as you do now, wondering over you?

Because you can still see the glaring television screen reflecting off your bloodshot, strained eyes in the midst of the pitch black bedroom, even as your head rolls back onto the chair and your stare meets the grotesque white-blue lights lining the office ceiling. You can still feel your heart wince—once at the sight of him and twice at the mention of his name. His cold hands that once brushed against yours and the serenity of his dark eyes that once gazed into your soul still manage to warm you, even from this distance, even after all this time. His absence is like a gaping wound, looming over you like vengeful apparitions that taunt you throughout the day. The ache in your chest is sheer proof of the truth you’ve always denied but can’t seem to let go.

Recently, you’ve found yourself dubious over the disguise of your next enemy. The twisting pain you had once suffered had long submerged into a pool of longing, a bittersweet melody that has you reminiscing over the past that you could never relive. He made you face your deepest fears. He was the aftermath of your own reflection, a living proof that you could survive the hellish consequences that came with the search and capture of success. He assumed the guardian he wished he could have had during his own struggles, shielding you from paths that would lead to dead ends amidst the forks in the road. His curt methods were burdensome and grueling to your heart, but in retrospect and even during that moment in time, something in you knew he meant well. He always did.

Because even through all the struggle he had put you through, be it unwanted fame, attention, and self-reflection, you could only remember the magical days when sparks flew between you two and your heart raced itself into trouble as you swore to yourself he was the one. Because even now, you still long for his touch, for his voice, for anything that could convey to you that he was still here.

Even if he isn’t.

In the mean time, Solji has been the sole remaining connection you’ve had to the outside world. Only a week had passed after your downfall, when you were so sure no one would return and no one cared enough for your wellbeing, when your self-proclaimed friends proved to be merely colleagues by obligation and your short-lived rocky friendship with Xiao Lin became one beyond salvation, when your heart crushed and your soul shattered in the silence of the one whomst should have been the one brewing the loudest storms, the one you had once declared your lover, Solji was the one to demolish the locks to your gates, even as you so incessantly refused to comply.

Weeks into the aftermath, Solji brought you food and water, but most crucially, a shoulder to cry on. You had initially denied her aiding hand out of utter shame. Who were you to ask for help from the very person whose trust you had broken? Who were you, after pointing an accusing finger at for betraying your trust, to accept her help? Solji was the last person you should have questioned. Moreover, she never should have been in the list in the first place and her unconditional loyalty, even as you lifelessly watched her clean your room as you lay in your stench of a bed, was clear proof to that attestment—and that glaring truth only humiliates you further.

It took weeks, nearly two months, for you to willingly begin recuperation. The process was slow and damn difficult. Your motivation was lacking, because at that point you figured what was the point when everyone hated you including yourself? But the one person who held the last glimmer of hope in a time when you could no longer see the end of the tunnel was Solji.

Day by day, you found one more reason to get up in the morning. Week by week, you found yourself longing for self-indulgence, whether it be channeled through food or hobbies. It took well over two months for the time to arrive when you finally find yourself seated at your desk, staring at your favorite fountain pen and piles of paper that you recognize the reflection in the mirror.

A writer—your identity, your passion, your reason for being.

But even if you longed for the day when you could write to your heart’s desire, when you relish in the strikes and crosses and strokes of the pen scraping with certainty and conviction against the paper, and when you could heave a sigh of content at the universe you created in the palms of your head after hours upon hours of concentration whilst in an unbreakable zone, you could no longer relive those days without the clouds that loomed over your conscience.

Guilt—writing was your ally turned foe, what had once been your media for self expression had manifested into a ruthless weapon for retaliation against those who wronged you.

Fear—writing brought you the highest joys, but the thought of having to relive the experience of its loss once again freezes your soul.

Shame—writing was your knife, words were your blades, and before you knew it, you were the villain of your greatest tales, sneering in satisfaction at your beloved’s blood that stains your hands and salivating wickedly at the gaping hole left in his heart as he gazes at you in utter betrayal under the hands of his own love.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to write anymore.

You just couldn’t write anymore.

Solji had suggested fleeing the barred prison that was your apartment, where every corner laid a fragment of a cherished memory that only furthered your pain, and taking refuge elsewhere. As expected in hindsight and surprisingly in your previously hazed mindset, Solji’s advice was just one more step toward recovery. Nine months away from home were enough for your getaway where you would no longer clutch your chest at every reminder and thought of the incident. Nine months away were enough for you to finally reflect on your mistakes head on. Nine months were enough for you to lock yourself in your apartment and dive head-first into your long-lived passion for the remainder of the year.

...but even after all the trials and tribulations, nine months weren’t enough to forget him.

Drowned by your recollection of the whirlwind that was last year, your mind finally shrieks for help as you rise to the water’s surface only to find yourself twirling around and around in a dizzying cycle. The cold white lights of the office was blinding, freezing even. The soul of every living being in the room must have been drained to power these accursed lights, you surmise so surely, willing to bet your life on it… not that it’s exactly a bad thing.

For one, at least you could revel in the fact that you were no longer subject to the torture that your fake colleagues are at the moment. And for another, said colleagues had left you unscathed as you had ventured into the depths of the building. Maybe they had forgotten you. Maybe they never really cared for you unless they could instigate some reaction from you that they once so cruelly found amusement in. Or maybe you just didn’t give enough of a damn anymore to care what they thought—that… that brings a smile to your face.

Just one more fucking sign of liberation.

Heels come tapping against the floor and you whip upright to face your beloved friend. You hadn’t seen Solji in over a month since you had last locked yourself in your room in the name of literature. Blood rushes from your head under the hands of gravity and a sense of queasy twirls descend into your stomach.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re here,” Solji coos, smiling as she spins you around on her chair, “how are you doing? And yes, I already know your answer after all these years of witnessing your bad writing habits, but I’m still going to ask out of courtesy. Are you eating well? Sleeping enough?”

“Well, as you know, I’m somewhat sleep deprived, somewhat self-gratified, not nearly satisfied, but… at the very least I’m alive, even if my eyes burn and my lips chap,” you pause after the two of you share a short-lived laugh, eyes sinking to the floor before you muster the courage to point a thumb over your shoulder and at the computer screen behind you, “so, um, what’s this about?”

An uncomfortable silence stills the air when Solji arches a brow only to let in an inaudible gasp as she peers at the computer screen behind you.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I called you over to tell you properly, but I guess you beat me to the chase,” Solji prims lopsidedly.

Her hesitation to proceed manifests in the hitch of her intaking breaths, probably mulling over her next words as she observes every emotion that flickers across your face—a tinge of betrayal, mostly disappointment, perhaps even a bit belligerent, but most of all, hopeful. A puff of air leaves her when she notices the light at the end of your tunnel vision eyes, eyes widening as she crosses her chest. That being said, it still amuses you how often she’d tip-toe around the incident last year, for fear of catalyzing another mental breakdown.

“You see, after seeing how much... negativity the SS brought you last year… and after realizing how far this site has strayed from my initial intentions of supporting an upcoming boy group and how it’s turned into this monster of a toxic tabloid, just hunting down these poor boys like they’re animals at a zoo, I made the final decision to close it down.”

After you had treated Yoongi like an animal for your own gain—the thought still stings you with guilt. Solji had advised you that time would heal the pain just a month in the aftermath of the storm, but now that you’re finally here, one year later, you find yourself caged in the eye of the storm.

“Oh, no. It’s toxic, no doubt about that,” you nod absentmindedly just as you’ve always done, disregarding the split second of a wince. Numbness has been the only effective coping mechanism since he left. “It was a good decision.”

This is your fault. Solji’s first piece of work, first treasures she had the gratification of grooming and growing into prized jewels envied by all, like the children that were your every written work, now put to eternal slumber because of your mishandled outbreak.

“This decision was inevitable, Y/N,” she speaks softly but firmly, reminding you like she has dozens of times in the past year, “the SS is innately toxic and I’m going to put an end to it. It’s not your fault. Remember that, Y/N.”

Blinking blankly at her, you take a deep breath and sigh heavily—but the weights on your shoulder remain ever the more prevalent. “It’s hard to tell myself that when the person I need to hear it from the most despises my guts, but yeah, I’ll try.”

“Don’t say that…” Solji murmurs, swiftly striding forward to take your hands into her own soft ones. Squatting down, she meets you at eye-level. “Has—” she hesitates in the midst of her tracks “—he, not contacted you at all?”

She avoids his name at all costs but that only makes you more aware of the pain that gnaws at your chest.

“Who? Oh, Yoongi? No, he’s probably too busy doing what celebrities do, you know? TV appearances, award ceremonies, and all that... ” you feign nonchalance that elicits a look of concern from your motherly friend. Shaking your head, you shrug; but just as quickly as your shoulders rise, your shoulders descend, seemingly monumentally heavier, as dejection dawns upon every inch of you. A familiar feeling of despair returns and all purpose to compose yourself leaks from the fading smile stitched to your lips… because what’s the point of pretending anymore? Swallowing the smidge of pride you had left, you let your eyes fall to the floor just as your spirit has. Your words come out meekly—you’re not even sure if you were speaking, for all you could sense is the slight slur of your tongue and tips of your grazing lips. “No… he hasn’t, no.”

“He hasn’t called you since he left? Or even texted you?”

Her voice crescendos under the hands of her wrath; but to you, her anger is an afterthought, a shadow to her deduction, because hearing her put your worst realizations into words, as if forcing you to acknowledge the harsh reality, hurts you the most. You don’t want to give up. It’s foolish. You don’t even deserve this privilege. But still. You don’t want to let go.

After all, despite all the harassment and bombardment from feverish fans and news outlets, isn’t that the reason why you begrudgingly kept your phone number? Foolishly and helplessly waiting for his and his name to light up your screen someday?

Clutching your phone tightly in your grips until it turns a numbish white, it takes all the strength in you to shake your head, “no, I haven’t heard anything from him since.”

You knew this would happen. What else did you deserve after betraying him. He already had trouble expressing himself outside the music realm; and yet, after he had so faithfully entrusted you with his secrets and vulnerability, you reminded him of all the reasons why he had hid from the world in the first place. This is what you deserve: radio silence.

But you just don’t think you can voice it out to Solji.

Not without cracking your voice and tumbling into an unstable mess, that is.

Observing your slow descent, Solji hastily squeezes your hand with a voice that rings of the only cheer you’ve heard in months. “Hey, what about that message we worked on putting together?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter. “I’m too scared to check.”

“...Y/N, I’m sure he’ll come around,” she finally manages to say after a long pause.

The more she says that, the harder it becomes to believe. At this point, you find no resolve to refute her utterly gullible implications. Pressing your lips into a thin line and routinely nodding your head, you look off into the distance beside you, waiting uncomfortably for her to untether you from her vigilance. As a seasoned professional around you, your lack of eye contact speaks volumes to her and the looming clouds seemingly spread its wings onto your friend. How cruel is it that happiness is limited, yet guilt seems to be boundless? You know you’re being a drag to your friend, so why does she even bother? It only makes you guiltier.

Her smile, on the other hand, has other plans, as it shoos the gray shadows away and out of her cubicle just as her hand on your shoulder brings light to your vision—and suddenly, as you peer up to find those vibrant, orange locks and cheek-raised smile of hers, it’s almost as if someone had swapped your icy cold, blue filters for a warmer, more welcoming gold. It’s relieving, really, to have someone there for you unconditionally.

“And if he doesn’t, then I guess it’s his loss and my gain. I get to have you all to myself!” she chimes likened to a kid with her favorite toy, and before you know it, she has you by the hands and pulls you to your feet as wind is knocked from your lungs. “C’mon, let’s go get something from your favorite coffee shop down the street, yeah?”

Your mind runs blank for a second but your lips return her smile, as if by second nature.

“...yeah,” you hum as she guides you through the labyrinth of cubicles and a gust of wind refreshes your hazy state.

The familiar irking honks and running engines blast you back into reality, a reality in which you had once lived on the daily just a year ago. Writing was your hobby, your everything, and yet, it crippled you, pained you, betrayed you. Sometimes the things you hold closest are the most dangerous of all and you learned that the hard way; but as Solji squeezes your hand and tosses her head back to check that you were in fact still present and somewhat well, her hair twirling in the wind and her eyes forming crescents, your heart welcomes you home once again. If holding her close would endanger you to further heartbreak down the road, you know she’s worth every ache.

“Hey, Solji?”

“Hm?” she twirls around once you two reach the crosswalk and await for the green light. After noticing the glimmer in your softened eyes that watch her with utter admiration, she shudders with a scoff. “What now? You want me to pay for you drink, too?”

“No,” you pout, hooking your arms to her own crossed ones and swaying her side to side. “I just wanted to thank you.”

“What is this about?” you can feel her cringing through her titters. “Why are you suddenly acting like this? I thought you were still in the dumps!”

“I am! But not as much now that you’re with me,” you coo, clearly amused enough by her reaction that you almost convince yourself to rub a cheek against her face; but instead, you choose to cradle your head into the crook of her neck.

“You silly girl,” she scolds, slapping the top of your head before settling into a soothing pat. “I’ll always be there for you.”

“Really?” you lift your head like a pleasantly surprised child and she frowns amusedly at the smile on your face. “You promise?”

“Promise? I need to promise you?” she gapes, baffled enough to slap you once again on the head. “Who else stayed by your side even after you abandoned them? Huh? I don’t see anyone! Tell me where—”

“—oh, there is one!” you exclaim and Solji whips her neck only to find you pointing at her right between her eyes. “She’s right here!”

Your usual antics elicits a groan and a roll of the eyes from her. The lights turn green and you nearly trip over your feet trying to catch up to her sudden acceleration as she attempts to flee your side, ironically contrary to her latest proclamations. “Well,” she scolds lightly akin to a lecturing friend who worries over you like a mother, striding confidently and pridefully through the streets with your arms hooked around hers, “as long as you know who’s really there for you and who’s not.”

“I know, I know,” your remarks exude of sheer blissful gratitude as you lay your head against her shoulders and smile giddily to yourself. “Looove you, mom.”

“Ugh,” she scrunches her shoulders, “please don’t do that ever again.”

Hands buried in your pocket and bare face exposed to the cold winds of winter, the thumps of your fuzzied heart is enough for you to acknowledge that you are alive.

“Do what?” you quip. “Love you?”

Arm in arm with the widest smile that stretches from ear to ear, you swear your heart has at long last awakened once again; for at this very moment, you can finally feel.

“Stop!”

Perhaps you aren’t completely well.

But you are alive and you know you still will be far down the road.

And for now?

That’s more than enough.

The stirring of the alcohol settles in the back of your throat, your mind still slightly hazed as your friend plops you onto the couch and you could do nothing but flash a goofy grin at her frown.

“Soljiii, let’s get another drink,” you drawl. “You promised we would go bar hopping!”

“Yes, you somehow convinced stupid me into taking you to a bar instead of a cafe, we bought you one drink, and now we hopped back to your apartment! See? Bar hopping,” she perks both hands up like a bunny, laughing at the scowl on your face. “You’re finally starting to feel better. I don’t want you to drink too much too soon. Ease your way back into it, alright?”

“I-I’m not even,” you pause because what exactly were you trying to say again—oh, right, “I’m not even that tipsy.”

Your friend narrows her eyes at you as she gathers her purse and coat. “...uhuh, well I prepped a bottle of water for you in the kitchen just in case. I’m almost late for my meeting, so I gotta go now. Call me if you need anything!” she shuffles to your door, throwing one last glance over her shoulder before departing. “And don’t go out on your own until you feel better, okay?”

“Psh—” the door slams “—what am I? A baby?”

Perhaps it’s the alcohol that runs through your veins or perhaps it’s the adrenaline after the first girl’s night out in a year, but nothing in you agrees to being locked within the confines of your cramped apartment. You need to distract yourself from wallowing in the dark, especially in your apartment, otherwise you’d face an all-too-predictable spiral into an abyss of self-pity. Jumping to your feet and stumbling toward the door, you hum a familiar tune that soothes the heart which aches in the wake of a high stuck in the deafening silence. You haven’t been able to pinpoint the origins of the tune that had pulled you through the sleepless nights and nightmarish days, but as you draw the door closed until just a crack between your doorframe and its lock remains, just enough for you to peak through at the disarranged sheets of your bed, and just long enough for you to gaze longingly at the two figures that lay in your bed eye-to-eye and arm-in-arm in a comfortable silence, an answer arrives and your heart is left with an unsettling stir.

The melancholic stain remains deeply rooted in tonight’s atmosphere and its intention to stay cements throughout the torturously lengthy night. You don’t realize it until you enter your elevator and press for the first floor that you notice the wall you had braced your heart with at every corner of your life. At some point in the last year, you had subconsciously defended yourself from the doleful memories that would reign your next few weeping nights.

Because as you stand here in the elevator, eyes stuck to the closed gray doors and thoughts feigned to be preoccupied elsewhere, it’s impossible not to notice the couple that had once stood by you. With your hands tangled in his hair and his arms wrapped over your waist, pushing you against the wall before pressing for the doors to close and returning his hands to slide to the small of your back, you can still feel his thumbs rubbing circles into your hips. The electricity that sparked like fire between his lips and yours, the hastiness of his every touch that begged for the privacy of your room, and the worrying ache over spotting the daughter of a CEO that was drowned out by the waves of yearning and buried into the back of your mind like an extended dynamite persists to haunt you to this day.

Because as you make your way out of the apartment and down the streets of the neighborhood, the gray hues of a sky shrouded by gloomy clouds on a winter evening seeps into the backdrop, fading into nonexistence just as quickly as speckles of sapphire blue bedazzled by gleaming stars paint night as day. There, just a block down from your apartment, the steps of your foot patter against the sidewalk, slowly and reluctantly, as if to prolong a moment beyond time’s capabilities. Your surroundings whirl around you in a blur and before you could desperately grasp for a break, you’re brought back into a fragment in time when he had taken initiative and held your hands in his for the first time, intertwining your fingers and guiding you home. Silently under the starry night, he declared his love for you. Electrified by the spur of the magical moment, you had confessed your greatest epiphany of falling in love.

Because as you pass by your neighborhood and night returns to day, you can’t help but stare through the windows of a closed restaurant where Yoongi had once taken you on that one revisited night. You can still remember how he had insisted on taking you out, despite its risks and the potential dent in his career that you had ultimately caused in the end. You can recall staring at his hands on the table and hesitating to touch them but remaining curious nonetheless. There, next to that specific table in the corner of the store, he had lowered his walls and entrusted you with his heart. Music was his passion just as ink was your companion, but on that one fateful night, he was willing to share his greatest friend likened to handing the ultimate weapon to who would turn out to be his greatest foe—you.

It seems as though the omnipotent universe finds amusement in your pain, for every corner down the street, you find it screaming at you to remember… to reminisce… to wallow in the pain that incessantly evolves and somehow paves its way into existence once again, just as you had nearly ridden yourself of the parasite.

“Hey, isn’t that Y/N?”

You’re snapped back into reality when you hear someone whispering about.

“Y/N, who?”

“You know,” a pair of girls point at you with masks over their lips, joining a frenzied crowd down the street, “the girl who dated Yoongi right before news broke out over him and that CEO’s daughter!”

The girl’s next reply is like a punch to the gut, “they broke up though, right?”

“Oh,” her friend scoffs, hooking an arm over the other and pulling her toward the havoc that was the crowd, “definitely.”

Right, you recall to yourself as you pull the neckline of your sweater over your nose, this was why you never walked outside anymore. The spotlight Yoongi’s fame had put on you never seemed to fade after all these months. You aren’t exactly surprised, though; because as a black car pulls up the sidewalk and the crowd descends into chaos, time slows, air stills, and you’re warped back in another episode of deja vu. Watching people scream by the grand entry of the boys, standing afar off to the side of the mayhem with a garment to conceal your identity, it’s almost as if you’re just another character in a tape put on replay.

Not all fans are what they claim to be.

They don’t care for your well-being. They only care if your actions served them under the right conditions set by their own selfish demands.

One day, you could be their whole world.

Another day, you could be no one.

His fans are no exception, a fact all too evident as you stare off into the distance where people collided and thrashed violently against one another all in hopes of screaming incomprehensible strings of words at the glamorous idols that suffered from the chaos that ensues. Cameras flashing, questions flying, and microphones shoved into their personal space, the scene is all too familiar to the night when you first met Yoongi and the news of your dating scandal shook the entire universe.

“Whoa!” a girl yelps and you whip your head up only to find yourself collapsing onto the floor. Wind knocks out of your lungs and you heave for air, wincing at the stinging pain that vibrates from your bottom up. The girl, standing above you, spits, “hey, can you stand here in the middle of everything? You’re blocking our way.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re—”

“—oh, it’s you,” the girl gasps and a group of surrounding girls turn to stare at you in bewilderment. “Why are you here? Didn’t Yoongi dump your ass years ago? Or are you here to beg for him back?”

“Wha—

—it’s okay, take a deep breath, you tell yourself even as you can feel yourself gradually descending into relapse. The darkness that settles into your grim composure and the bitterness that looms over you escapes your grasp as the enemy in you broke free. You have to control yourself. You can’t cause a commotion after all the trouble you’ve brought to Yoongi. The media had seemed to have finally forgotten his scandal between you and him, despite the numerous times his agency refuted the claims. How much unwanted attention would your presence here divert from what truly matters: his music?

You’re ashamed of your actions. You’re ashamed of your feelings. Really, you’re ashamed of you.

Head hanging low and teeth gritting tight, you keep your glare to the ground and out of sight. The girls only snicker at you as others looked back with pity written over their faces before turning their backs on you once again and actively choosing to ignore the situation. One breath in, one breath out. It’s almost as if you have to remind yourself the simplest things, otherwise you’d freeze in motion and cause unnecessary attention.

But is it too late?

A series of gasps ripple throughout the crowd just as you dust the rubble off your hands. A hushed silence befalls your surroundings, as if by the crafts of magic. A familiar pace of footsteps echo in your riveting heart.

One step. Thump. Don’t walk toward me.

Hesitantly lifting your inspecting eyes form the red scratches against your palm, your heart stills by the boy who makes his way toward you.

Another step. Thump. Don’t save me.

Akin to flowers that bloom along a wizard’s path, the crowd parts amidst the silence as he walks with confident, swift strides, head down, and eyes locked on you. The power of his gaze is enough to fade the stinging pain and your liberated heart feels as light as the clouds of which your mind remains hazed by. No one mattered at this point, for tunnel vision had overtaken the both of you and everyone except you and him was but a blur.

One final step. Thump. I don’t deserve to be saved.

And it’s at this moment that an epiphany dawns upon you. You still long for his enigmatic mien, a stark contrast to his delicate touch and his gentle words that he had so curtly and unabashedly spoken with truth. He had always known what was best for you, for he, too, had undergone the lowest of the lows and the highest of the highs. You always knew that, even if you denied his help and went through the effort to voice your refusal in an attempt to aggravate the man. And despite all your tantrums and flails and screams, he remains here, patient and forgiving and understanding, waiting for the day you realize he was indeed nothing but a loyal friend betrothed to your heart.

Because here you are, wounded and tossed aside. Having hurt and been hurt, this was nothing but fair play. You deserve this… but justice isn’t a matter of concern to him. You were his utmost concern. You hurt him, more so than anyone else in this crowd, but the look in those ocean-like eyes that painted more words than those who would simply undermine it as apathetic told you his love is unconditional.

You were ashamed of yourself.

He should have been ashamed of you.

Yet here he is, holding his hand out for you and you only; and before you know it, you’re grasping onto the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Y/N, are you—”

“—sorry,” you blurt, yanking your hand back and hastily turning around. Shuffling forward, the ruckus that ensues behind you drowns underwater. You’re not even sure if Yoongi hears you mumble, “I have to go.”

“Y/N! Wait, Y/N!” you hear Yoongi call out several times but your feet remain persistent on its trek elsewhere, that is, until your heart melts at the familiar touch of a cold hand that clutches your wrist. Freezing in your tracks, you gulp. He pants in between his words, “Y/N, where are you going?”

“What are you doing?” you ask with your back on him.

“Following my heart,” he answers plainly. “What else have I ever done—”

“—I mean,” you cut, biting your bottom lip, “I mean, why are you here? Why did you do that in front of all your fans? What’re they going to say?”

“They can say whatever they want.”

Shutting your eyes, you take a shaky breath in and retract your hands from his, though not too roughly as to retain your frail heartstrings. “I don’t know why you’re acting like this.”

“You know damn well why,” he deadpans. “Y/N, please, at least look at me.”

You can hear the hissing crowd encroaching from afar.

“I don’t want to—”

“—I’ve missed you damn it.”

You wish he wouldn’t say that, it only makes it harder on you.

“Well,” you muster the courage to utter, even if your heart shatters as you do so, “I don’t.”

Every step forward plucks at your strings. Every distance furthered between you and him subtracted from the ticking bomb within you. It’s only a matter of time until you could no longer uphold your lie. So you make a run for it.

Forward, you chant to yourself, keep running until he’s forced to give up and return to the world where he truly belongs… and that’s exactly what you do. You run and you run and eventually you find yourself falling into yet another inevitable trap of the universe. Standing in front of the doors to a concert hall, a place you used to call home before the memories of the night shared between you and him haunted its every corner, you scan around for any passersby.

You should return home. It’s your safest bet. Plus, did the janitor really not change the lock after all these years?

Click.

The key slides perfectly into the lock; and even through all the protests your defense mechanism puts on, it’s only inevitable that your heart overtakes your body and you’re already slipping through the slit and leaving the world shut outside behind you.

Alas, the rows upon rows of burgundy velvet chairs, balconies upon balconies that line the walls, and the dim lighting across the room that plays a stark contrast to the golden lights focused on the stage, everything screams home to you. Even if you can still see him sitting down beside you on the front row, turning to smile that damn half-smile of his, your heart is content over a dream nearly turned reality just minutes prior. The boy of the past beckons for you and you follow him up the stage with a smile on your face. His ghost leads you before the piano, seating yourself onto a cushioned black bench and a set of white keys streaked with black.

Here, on the stage, the lights are blinding. The audience is blacked out and you can no longer see too far off into the distance. From here, you figure you must appear dazzling—perfect, even; but you know you’re flawed, maybe the golden glow that reflects against the polished wooden floor and onto you makes it hard to believe, but you know you’re human. Up here, the grand piano is the only thing that keeps you focused on the task at hand.

Is this the sight Yoongi faces every day?

Is this the mundane sight he faced on that night? Or did he see you watching him with those sparkles in your eyes that reflected the star on stage? Did he smile that night, performing whilst observing his sole audience member with utter adoration and a heart on his sleeves?

The sparks of that night makes its grand entrance, even as an unsettling realization dawns upon you—because the thing is, you don’t remember, you can’t remember if you were busy taking advantage of his vulnerability.

Three notes—you play the familiar notes that had lulled you to sleep throughout the trying year. The tune brings a bittersweet smile to your lips that tugs at your chest. The truth is, you miss him. You didn’t want to turn him away but you couldn’t be selfish any longer. Even so, you miss him. You want to hold him right here, right now.

“I see you still remember that little performance I put on for you.”

Whipping around, your eyes widen when you find him standing before you. Decked out in a classic black and white suit, with a loosened tie, tousled hair, and hands buried in his pockets, as if he wasn’t sprinting just a minute before, he approaches you slowly.

“I don’t,” you mumble a lie, turning your back on him and lowering your eyes to the keys in shame, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Yoongi chuckles and you can feel his vibrations against your back as he leans forward to hold your hands in a delicate grasp. “I see you’re also still not very honest with yourself,” he muses when you relax under his touch. His hands guide you to the keys—and you don’t know why, but you let him.

With his fingertips over yours and the top of your hands grazing against his rough palms, the complete song is like an entire symphony compared to the three notes you played earlier. Everything is almost a carbon copy of that magical night, except here he is, holding you in his arms, and here you are, head against his chest as you count the rhythm of his quickening heart. The tune, too, has evolved from the melancholic melody from before.

“...is this the same song?” you can barely utter.

“Oh, so you do remember,” he remarks and you can practically hear him smirk. “The song I played for you was supposed to be the hook for one of my tracks.”

“It sounds different though. It sounds… happier.”

“Does it?” he chortles, still gliding your hands across the piano. “I revised it after that night. I wanted it to be an accurate reflection of me. Simply put, it was too sad, too lonesome. This is more fitting.”

And now…? How is this an accurate reflection of him? If anything, your betrayal should have been the most lonesome act of all… unless he found someone new.

The thought has something gnawing in you as your hands fall from the keys and back into your lap. The music stops and silence follows. The deafening confessions exchanged between his heart and yours are all you can hear echoing in the vast room.

“...why are you still treating me so well?” you finally mutter. His silence only spurs you further into an unexplained fury as you raise your voice. “Don’t you hate me...? Don’t you hate me for lying to you, for taking advantage of you, for breaking your trust when you had so meticulously told me not to?!”

Even in a time like this, Yoongi remains composed as he always does, silently putting his thoughts into words that would eventually quell your fire.

“I didn’t hate you. I was mad and it hurt like hell for months on end, but I don’t hate you,” he states firmly. “You know I’ve never been one with words, but hell, Y/N, I’ve missed you.”

“Why did your company tell everyone we were through without giving me a single warning, then?” you shake your head in a fruitless attempt to still your racing heart. “Why didn’t you text me back? Why didn’t you call?”

“I did text,” he confesses and you freeze. “I didn’t text you, but I told Solji to take care of you. That’s the most I could do while retaining our break. It was for the better... but if you were waiting for my call, then why didn’t you call?”

“Well,” you pause, taken aback, “you said you wanted a break. I knew I hurt you too much. I couldn’t just be selfish again and force you to be reminded of me after you had requested me not to.”

“...is that why you never told anyone Ink Nemesis was really just an aspiring writer in disguise?”

Silence.

How does he know that?

No one would have arrived at that conclusion. It just doesn’t make sense.

How does he always read right through you?

“No,” you shake your head profusely. “That doesn’t even make sense. I’m a selfish person, you know that. I didn’t tell anyone so that I wouldn’t tarnish my reputation. I could still go out in public if no one knew I was the one who released those photos. I could still establish my career as a writer if no one knew I was Ink Nemesis—”

“—because you were selfless and because you changed after recognizing how much you hurt me, you decided your confession would only tarnish my reputation,” he surmises a little too accurately, “even if that meant you would have to be plagued with guilt that you’re still trying to carry to your grave.”

Bulls-eye.

“It… it doesn’t matter anymore,” you bite your bottom lip, hoping anything would stop you from speaking the truth. “Everything happened so long ago. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Good. I don’t want it to hurt anymore,” he places both hands on you and you comply as he turns you around to face him. Bangs hanging over his eyes as he leans downwards, your heart jumps at the soft edges of his that you had so yearned to see in flesh again. He speaks lowly but surely, “but isn’t there anything still left from back then?”

You still love him.

Meekly answering, you utter, “...no.”

“Really? I’m the only one reliving this hellish nightmare on replay, reminiscing over our undeniable chemistry because—and I swear on my life—I would never be able to find someone who understood me like you?” he lays his heart out on the table. “Am I really the only one who feels these sparks?”

Peering up at him to meet his gaze, you can make out the sincerity of his face where the shadows of the blinding lights above falls gracefully. The surrealism of it all takes you out of the race. Even if you were to lie, he would see right through you.

“...no,” you gulp, lowering your head to conceal the waterworks that make its way to your eyes, “no, you’re not.”

“I never trusted anyone more than you, Y/N. You know I gave you my entire heart, right?” he speaks sternly. “So is there anything else you want to say to me?”

“I’m... sorry, Yoongi. I never wanted to hurt you—” the words you’ve been wanting to say come to you naturally, as if rehearsed thousands of times “—I know it doesn’t matter now, but I won’t ever hurt you again. Ever.”

“Why?” he utters, fingers on your chin and tilting your head back until your gaze meets his. Yoongi’s eyes soften for a second at the sight of the warm tears streaming down your cheeks, lifting another hand to gently wipe the drops away. His touch is electricity against your bare skin.

“Because I love you.”

Yoongi smiles that lopsided smile of his, fruitlessly stifling the chortles that escape before uttering one last time “then it does matter, love” and locking his lips with yours.

That, in itself, is enough to tell you he’s forgiven you.

And now, you can finally forgive yourself.

“First of all,” you clear your throat hesitantly, leaning forward into the microphone that squeaks, “I would like to thank you all for coming to this press conference. Although Yoongi and I have already settled things privately, I would like to publicly apologize for my malicious actions against Min Yoongi of BTS. Two years ago I was in an unstable position and I was willing to accept any job just to make a living and persist to chase my goals as an aspiring writer. I know me coming out as Ink Nemesis is not enough of a rectification for my actions, and I understand why certain networks have refused to attend tonight’s press conference, so I want to take this time to thank those who have. I promise I will do my best to answer any question with utmost truth.”

Dozens of cameras flash in the room filled with reporters and previous fans of the works on your blog. Surprisingly, you can’t even count the number of heads in the cramped room, even if certain fans, both his and yours, had boycotted the press for your first upcoming novel. It takes everything in you not to squint at the blinding lights, because if there’s anything your relationship with Min Yoongi has taught you in the past year, it would be that the media tears you apart over the most trifling matters.

“So, um…” you mumble, shifting in your seat, “we can begin the Q&A.”

No one speaks but the flashes and clicks persist throughout the silence. Your eyes flicker across the crowd only to find Yoongi’s intent gaze under the rim of his bucket hat with ease. His eyes widen slightly at your call for help before he blinks blankly, looks around, and kicks the chair of the closest reporter to him.

“Oh!” the bespectacled man raises his hand, jumping at the sudden vibration.

You lean into the microphone, “yes?”

“Seeing as you have mentioned your humble beginnings as a blog writer, could you explain why you took pleasure in writing via a blog and not through an agency?”

“Ah, that’s a good question,” you purse your lips. “Actually, I think there are many perks to writing on a blog that many don’t consider, both readers and writers alike. Through a blog, readers can comment on any part of a chapter. Specific feedback, especially the ones that quote certain excerpts of my work, can be really helpful in my progression as a writer. Not to mention, their reception helps motivate me as I write later chapters in the series. I think it’s pretty cool that readers can send messages to their favorite writers and writers can have a personal connection with the very people who support their livelihood.”

Another man raises his hand, “and what about the cons to running an online blog?”

“Hm, where do I start?” you laugh along with the crowd. “First off, I have to figure out how to even run a blog. I have to design my website, I have to edit my own work, I have to create a cover that looks somewhat presentable, and most of all, I don’t even get paid! The algorithm always changes, so the attention your works receive might not be an accurate representation of its quality.”

“Can you elaborate on how to assess the quality of your work?”

“Well, that’s a difficult one to answer. Sometimes numbers such as likes, reblogs, and comments are a good indication of how many people have read your work, but not everyone leaves any notes. Sometimes people are busy on the days you post and sometimes people just don’t see or aren’t interested in your cover or synopsis.”

“How does it feel when your work is not received well in terms of numbers and what do you do to proceed? Does the reception change the direction of your work?”

“Honestly, it’s pretty dejecting when you spend hours on something and no one responds. That’s how it is in life, though,” you shrug. “In fact, there was a time on my blog when one of my works received all the attention, whereas another one of my works went completely under the radar. It was pretty despairing to see the stark contrast.”

“And why is that?”

“Why?” you pause. “Well, I have to say I’m a very competitive person. I’ve always wanted to be the best at what I do and I hated that my own work was stifling my growth. I wanted to grow as a writer, and somewhere along the way, numbers became my definition of success and quality. When I noticed that the numbers were falling on something that I was so proud of, I was disappointed. Relying on numbers is a realistic but grave mistake. Nowadays, I could care less about the numbers. Of course, a part of me still cares and I still would love a reasonable amount of notes—” you laugh “—but getting over the misconception that numbers are equivalent to quality helped me in my return to fiction. Honestly, people who rely on numbers are missing out on a lot of amazing works. Trust me.”

“What would you tell your past self right before you shut down your blog?”

“I guess,” you have to pause and think, “I guess I would tell her to go ahead and do it. I would tell her she had so much to live, so much that she was missing out on life because she gave so much of her time and heart on her blog. I would tell her that when the time comes, inevitably, she would write again because she wants to and not because of anything else.”

“Why did you really take down your works?”

“Ah—” how should you go about this topic that even you want to avoid “—it has to do with my reasoning before. I’m a competitive person and I was disappointed in myself. Certain readers only responded when I updated one of my works, some people even unfollowed me whenever I posted something else, but they were never there when I voiced my struggles or needed help from public disputes. I know it sounds silly and I really shouldn’t hold it against them, but it felt like no one cared about me until I served them. My creativity was stifled. Everything added up and I just didn’t want to have anything to do with my blog. Honestly, I was putting too much pressure on myself. I was conceited and it was dumb of me to have such a toxic perspective. Other writers wrote beautiful works, regardless of whether they had higher and lower number of notes, but I couldn’t help comparing myself to them. It’s embarrassing to say this out loud now, really, but that’s the truth. I think it’s a truth that echoes with many online writers.”

The crowd nods their heads and people start scribbling onto their notepad. Several hands raised in the crowd but you can barely see anyone amidst the flashes, so you toss a finger up somewhere in the air.

“How are you and Yoongi doing right now and how did he respond when you posted the picture of him on his affair?”

An audible gasp echoes in the room as you frown, brows furrowed and mouth hung agape at the unrelated question. The reporters stiffen, because surely, it’s a question they’ve all thought of asking but had the decency to refrain from. Trying your best to retain Yoongi’s hidden spot amongst the crowd, you keep your eyes on the reporter.

“I’m sorry but that’s something only him and I should be concerned over. Him and I are doing just fine, thank you,” you smile when you spot Yoongi giving you a nod with an affirmative smile that says that’s my girl.

A loud series of coughs saves the tense silence that follows. Everyone’s eyes dart to the very front right row, and when a light focuses on the reporter and their identity is revealed amidst the blackened platform below your stage, you can’t help but smile fondly at her.

After years of silence, it seems the grudge has finally been settled by her attendance, and thereby support, of your first press conference.

“Moving onto more important and relevant topics,” Xiao Lin settles the notepad into her lap, devoting all of her attention to you with a grin, “will you ever return to your writing blog? In other words, will you post your old works again?”

“Well, I have returned to my writing blog every once in a while,” you hum. “I’m no longer the same person as I was before, but I’m also not ashamed of who I was and the works that I wrote in the past. When I return, I will return on my own accord and my own terms. I’ll leave you with that.”

“And…” she scribbles something onto her notepad before looking up, “what will be the name of your upcoming novel?”

A stagnant silence floods the room that waits with bated breath as you lean into the desk and prolong the suspension. Smiling to Yoongi, head lifted and chin high, you speak proudly into the microphone. Alas, when the answer leaves your lips, a hushed gasp intermixed with a collective plaudit arises, for your proclamation is merely the first signal for the end of a beginning.

“Ink Nemesis.”

are you ready for it?

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