#she graduated the year before i started high school all i know about her is what i’ve hesrd from my drama and dance teachers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewidowsledger · 3 months ago

Text

Good Luck, Babe

Pairings: College Student Natasha Romanoff x College Student Female Reader

Word count: 7.1k

Tags | Warnings: +18, smut, ANGST, jealousy, cheating (we're cheating on Steve with Natasha), Natasha has a penis, top!Natasha, bottom!reader, fingering (r receiving), dirty talk, car sex, mirror sex, hate sex (?), choking, slapping, dacryphilia, blowjob (Natasha receiving), breeding kink only if you dare to squint, Natasha fucking r like a guitar, if I missed something I am going to throw hands

Author's Note: I’ll be back in 3 weeks I guess, I already scheduled some chapters for my fics, one each week. For this week, I serve you this one-shot🤲💗 This is something I wrote when I was supposed to be studying, lol. The title says it all. I did not proofread this one and I decided to remove some parts because I feel like it's getting too long. I hope y’all are doing okay! Enjoy!

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⧗

“I realize I just wanted to stay home, have a quiet night in.”

“Oh, you intend to be quiet?”

You furrowed your brows at her question, “Yeah, why would I be loud?” You asked innocently, not aware of the redhead's innuendo, your back was facing her as you started to remove the heels you have been wearing.

“Well, if I am going to fuck someone’s girlfriend, I might want to hear her scream my name.”

⧗

You stirred from your sleep in the middle of the night, woken by the gentle sound of Natasha's snore. As you looked up at her, her auburn locks lay scattered, half-veiling her face in peaceful slumber. You gently pulled the strands aside, you admired the way her features were soft and unguarded in sleep as if she didn't drive you into the brink of ecstasy a while ago.

You watched, entranced, as the steady rise and fall of her chest painted a tranquil rhythm, like the gentle lapping of waves against the shore.

Her eyelashes fluttered softly, like fragile butterfly wings beating in the night.

Soft breaths escaped her lips and with each exhale, her warmth wrapped around you like a cozy blanket, enveloping you in comfort and security.

Your fingers traced the marks that marred her otherwise smooth skin. There were long, deep scratches on her back as you clawed to her dear life when she rammed into you, bringing you both to the peak of your own highs.

Unable to resist the urge, you leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I love you, Natasha.”

⧗

Natasha was behind the wheel of her convertible and you were riding shotgun. You both planned to get away before the graduation, a secret escape for just the two of you.

Yes, it was a secret escape, just like your clandestine affair. For the past year, you had been meeting secretly, your passionate trysts hidden away from the prying eyes around your campus.

How could one imagine that the epitome of perfection in the eyes of many, from students, professors, and school staff had chosen a band guitarist to share your deepest desires and secrets with?

The fact that you, the student body president of the College of Liberal Arts, the volleyball captain ball, the campus' debate team leader, and the devoted girlfriend of the campus’ student council Steve Rogers has been in an entangled affair with Natasha Romanoff, the school's band guitarist, was kept strictly under wraps.

Only a select few were aware of the tangled web you both were weaving behind the scenes. A few that only you, Natasha and her sister Yelena know about the affair that you’ve been keeping closely a guarded secret.

With your hands held high up in the air, you relished the feeling of the wind whipping through the open top of Natasha's convertible. The rush of air against your skin felt incredibly free and exhilarating.

As you stood there in the open wind, blissfully unaware, Natasha watched you intently, cherishing the unguarded moment between the two of you. Taking in every detail as she glanced at you the way your hair tousled in the breeze, the sparkle in your eyes as you smiled and the way your pink sundress fluttered in the wind. It was in these small moments, when she could watch you in your carefree state, where she could openly watch you and admire your carefree happiness without the need for secrecy or hiding.

Unlike when you were on campus Natasha could only watch you from a distance. Whether it was her playing with the band during a night blast events your campus would trimonthly organize, searching for your familiar face in the crowd, or her sitting in the audience far enough for her not to be seen by you, watching you shine in a debate competition you joined.

Just for once, it's only the two of you, completely unburdened by your secret affair.

“How did your send off go by the way?” Natasha asked, as she put her hands on your lower back.

“As usual, every player, even the new recruits had to spike a ball into me!” you rolled your eyes in the air. You glance at the redhead who is staring admiringly at you, you smile at her, biting your lip when she slowly dragged her hand all the way down to the curve of your ass.

“Two hands on the wheel, Romanoff.”

Natasha chuckled, tearing her right hand away from you, you slumped on the passenger seat as she did so, “And coach just told me that Bishop will be the next captain ball.”

“She's in the same position as you, right?” Natasha asked, now putting a hand over your thighs, unable to resist the temptation to touch you.

“During her residency coach had to train her as an opposite because we had filled the quota for each position. She was originally middle.”

Natasha hummed at your response. Her fingers can't help but stray, tracing patterns on your thighs. Her hands begin to move of their own accord, sneaking higher and higher up your thighs with every pass.

Her touch sends shivers down your spine, your breath hitching in your throat as her fingers make contact with your sensitive skin. You can't help but let out a soft moan, involuntarily arching towards her touch.

“Natasha,” you warned softly.

Her gaze flickers to yours innocently but she doesn't stop, her fingers continuing to trace patterns on your thighs, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, “What’s wrong?” She watches you carefully, her hands pausing in their ministrations as she waits for your response.

“Stop the car,” you demanded and she didn't hesitate. Her eyes flicker to the rear-view mirror, spotting an empty side street just ahead. She swings the car in that direction, pulling over and turning off the engine in record time.

She barely has time to register your movement before you're on her. Your legs straddling her, your body pressed close against hers as you take control of the situation. Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she grins, her hands coming up to grip your hips and pull you closer.

She trails kisses down your neck, softly nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin, careful not to make any marks even though she has been dying to mark you—to make you really hers.

Without warning, she thrusted her fingers deep inside you.

“Oh, Nat!” You cried in pleasure as she drove you higher and higher. Her fingers move faster, her thumb applying more pressure to your clit. She can feel you trembling, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“I can't believe you didn't wear any panties baby,” she chuckled, “what if someone saw my pussy while you stood there in your seat huh?”

“I-I, I—”

“Close baby?” She smirked on your neck, she added another finger curling in your tight walls that made you gasp and buck harder towards her digits.

“Nat, I’m gon’, I’m gonna…” you trailed off, finally hitting the peak of your orgasm. You chased your own breath when Natasha pulled you into a deep kiss and you let her dominate you again as she pushed her tongue onto yours.

She smirked at you as she pulled away, “You always loved quickies, baby.” She teased, licking her digits that were coated with your arousal.

You hummed, placing your forehead on hers, “Because that's what only we can afford.” You said in a small voice, your breath fanning over her mouth.

“Not now though, we have all the time in the world.” Natasha replied as she stroked your cheek, the pain was evident in her voice as she spoke. You both never really had time alone inside the campus without prying eyes or suspicions of others. The only time you have is this, when you two would plan a night out every month or when Natasha would occasionally do late-night visits where she would sneak into your dorm and the two of you would spend the night making love to each other.

“That’s the thing, Nat. We’re on our way back to the world, the real world,” you kissed her neck all the way up to her jaw and to her lips. You eyed her and kissed her nose before moving away from her lap back to the passenger seat.

The drive to the campus’ dorm complex was quick just like the quickie you had half an hour ago. Natasha pulled the car to a quiet secluded area and got out of her car. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow?” Natasha asked as she opened the passenger door, you stepped out with your training bag that you brought with you.

“Steve will pick me up tomorrow,” you said as you looked at her, you placed a kiss on her cheek, “But I for sure will see you tomorrow, alright?”

You and Natasha had agreed upon certain rules during the course of your…affair and one of those rules was that you would never mention your boyfriend's name when she was present. In this moment, however, you inadvertently forgot about this rule and his name slipped from your lips without a second thought.

Natasha just concealed her jealousy and aching heart but when you softly leaned on her, your head comfortably resting on her shoulder it was quick to soothe her. She then asked, “You don't want me to accompany you upstairs?”

“I might not let you go if I let you come with me.” You confessed but the redhead knew this too. Your eyes, however, betrayed your hidden desires, silently pleading with her to disregard any resistance and come to the dorm with you.

“Baby, don't give me those eyes,” Natasha softly whined.

You chuckled and painfully tore yourself away from your secret lover, “Good night, Nat.”

⧗

It is Tony's tradition to host a party before the school year comes to a close and has become a much-anticipated event in your campus. But this year the party held a somber undertone as it marks the end of the journey for your entire batch. Tomorrow is your graduation day and everyone will finally embark on different paths. So this night will hold a memory for all of you as you hold a bittersweet celebration bidding farewell to school days and the journey you had together.

Your boyfriend, Steve, just picked you up at your dorm and as soon as you arrived at Tony's place, your eyes scanned the room, searching for a glimpse of your secret lover. Despite Steve's firm grip on your hand, your attention was elsewhere, the need of seeing your secret lover making your heart skip a beat. You tried to remain composed, pretending to engage in conversation with Steve.

“I finished my graduation speech, love,” he told you, his voice cutting through the loud party music. Your mind was preoccupied with searching for your secret lover and you only half-listened to his words, caught up in your own thoughts.

“What? Sorry baby,” you apologized, your attention finally shifting to him.

“I said,” he held both of your hands and pulled you closer to him, eager to pull you away from whatever is distracting you, “I just finished my graduation speech,” he whispered to your ear.

You smiled, reaching up to pinch Steve's cheek proudly, “My council president.” Eyes shining with pride and happiness for him—genuinely.

Steve is a quintessential all-rounder; a true gentleman who excelled academically and was a beacon for the students as he is the student council president.

He is a good boyfriend too. He was consistent in picking you up from your classes, walking you back to your dorm. You couldn't help but notice that he possessed a mildly possessive nature, because he seemed to want to keep you shielded, no, away from the outside world because your life just revolves around the campus, gym, organization faculty, and dorm and your boyfriend made sure of that.

Whenever you attended training, tune ups or participated in debates, Steve is always there, observing and sometimes engaging in your activities. He had a subtle ego, where he'd train you, play as your opponent during debates and literally break you, pushing you through your limits because he told you that he wants you to do good, do better—he wants you to win.

He doesn't want losers and he always wins and you knew that the day he won your “yes” when he asked you on a date—he always gets what he wants—he always wins and everytime you let him.

“Stop giving Y/N those blue gooey eyes, Rogers,” Tony's joke broke the moment between you and Steve as he offered drinks. “Lovebirds, drinks?” You cringe at his words, it doesn't feel right to you.

Steve accepted a cup for himself but when you were about to get one for yourself he swiftly interjected, shielding your hand away from the tray declining the offer on your behalf. You gave Tony a strained smile, “I’m good, Tony, thanks.”

How did you even bother to get one when he never lets you drink alcohol or engage in any activities he deemed unsuitable for himself when you were out together? You often felt trapped and restricted, as if you could never truly enjoy yourself when you’re with him. He constantly kept a watchful eye on you, ensuring your compliance to his rules—making you feel constantly monitored and controlled like right now you’re basically trapped and isolated in the corner, his towering body shielding you away from the crowd in the party.

Sure, he is a good boyfriend.

“Stop, fucking in the corner blondie!” You heard his friend Sam shout at the distance and Steve just gave him a finger but still facing you.

Steve is never the one who fucks around, he always maintained decency and in fact—he is a celibate and no one knew actually—just you. It was an agreement to the both of you when your relationship began which you completely agreed and respected but what he didn't know was that you were secretly breaking that agreement by satisfying your desires every night with your secret lover.

And your secret lover, concealed by the presence of others at the party, watched despite Steve's imposing frame blocking her view. She watched as you laughed at his words and planted a kiss on his cheek every now and then. She watched Steve as he wrapped your hands around his neck, you looked happy—too happy she thought, considering she knew the truth about your secret. And the secret in question? Is her.

She clenched her jaw as you placed a final, chaste kiss on Steve's cheek, she almost lost it when your boyfriend tried to attempt to kiss your mouth but you gently stopped him by placing a finger on his lips, keeping him at bay and chuckling slightly as you finally walked away from him and from the crowd of the party.

⧗

You managed to convince Steve that you could make it back to your dorm alone, insisting that you'd see each tomorrow at graduation rites. Steve begrudgingly agreed, though you could tell he really wanted to walk you back as he usually did.

As you walked back to your dorm complex in the chill of the night, the absence of your secret lover weighed heavily on you. You didn't see a glimpse of the redhead tonight, she was nowhere to be seen at the party, leaving you to wonder where she disappeared to.

You took a deep breath before opening the door of your dorm only to be greeted by none other than your secret lover who you have been looking for the whole night.

“Out early in the party huh?”

You bit your lip pretending to not be shocked by her presence, you forgot that she had duplicated your dorm key, “I realize I just wanted to stay home, have a quiet night in.”

“Oh, you intend to be quiet?”

“Well, if I am going to fuck someone’s girlfriend, I might want to hear her scream my name.” She stepped forward and grabbed your hips, you sucked in a little breath as she inhaled in your neck. “So tell me, will you be loud for me? Y/N? Will you…scream my name?” She husked, her breath warm against your skin.

You turned to her, green orbs dilated as you looked straight at her eyes.

“Don’t I?” You whispered in a very dangerous tone as you ran your thumb against her lips, “always,” you caressed her cheek and traced your fingers along her tense jawline, “scream your name?”

A growl ripped out through her, she immediately grabbed your hips and turned your back on her front. Her lips found your neck and she sucked and bit gently, leaving a faint mark. With a swift movement, you yelped a little as Natasha pulled your left leg up, causing your skimpy dress to roll up even further. Her hand instinctively went up to the back of your thigh, gripping it tightly.

You didn't notice that you were both facing your vanity mirror. Natasha's eyes darkened while yours widened as you looked at your reflection through the mirror. Natasha's right hand sneaks through your panties, finding its way to your core. She begins to rub gentle circles, causing you to gasp and lean back against her.

“Fuck!”

Natasha's left hand grips your thigh with the same precision and strength as when she holds her electric guitar during their gigs. Meanwhile, her right hand continues to strum your core like how she played a wild solo on her guitar.

She was the artist and you were the art.

“Oh yes, yes ah!”

Your moans fill the air, her fingers moving with a skilled rhythm that could make any musician jealous. To her, your moans and the sloppy sound of your pussy are like music to her ears, a symphony of pleasure that she herself is producing. Your moans crescendo, becoming louder and more frequent as she pushes her fingers in and out of you while her thumb continues to strum your clit. Your moans are like a song she is composing right this moment and the only lyrics is her name.

“Natasha!” You moaned out in pleasure.

Her breath hitches as she continues to pleasure you. She leans in close to your ear again, her voice a low purr. “Open your eyes and look in the mirror.”

You hazily opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was her smokey eyes filled with lust, desire, and pleasure. You then dragged your gaze down to her digits disappearing inside your cunt—the sight only brought you closer to the edge.

“C-cum—please let me cum,” you whined, a tear falling down your cheek. You can feel her lips curling into a predatory smile on your neck as she hears your plea. She doesn't respond with words, instead choosing to increase the tempo of her fingers.

“Only if you open those pretty eyes of yours and look at the mirror, detka.”

You squeezed your eyes shut before managing to open them again, looking straight at her through the mirror.

“Come and scream my name.”

“Oh f—fu—Natasha!”

You finally fall over, throwing your head back on her shoulder, a triumphant cry escaping your lips as she feels your body tremble against her. As the waves of pleasure subside, Natasha removes her fingers and you watch her in the mirror as she brings them to her lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied purr. She immediately catches your trembling body, still recovering from your orgasm, she then carries you into a bridal style and gently places you to the bed.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You hummed pulling her by her leather jacket, “Please stay, Natty.”

Natasha watches as your eyes flutter closed, she carefully extracts herself from your embrace, but you cling to her, your grip tightening on her jacket. Natasha pauses, her heart heavy in her chest as she looks down at your sleeping form. She knows she had planned to talk to you tonight, to finally come clean about her feelings, but now that the moment is here, she can't just bring herself to wake you up.

She takes a deep breath, her fingers gently brushing a strand of hair out of your face. She remembers the first time she saw you, how easy it was to slip into her role as a recluse and simply observe. You were the most popular student on campus, an achiever, the captain ball, always surrounded by a group of admirers. It made it all too easy to keep her feelings under wraps. That's why she couldn't believe the moment her sister told her that you wanted to meet her and it ended up with you in her car, begging her to let you come.

It wasn't long before things took a turn. You would find yourself asking her to come to your dorm after your classes were over, even if Natasha’s class isn't, she would immediately have an early out just to go to you only for the two of you to spend the night relentlessly fucking each other until neither of you could move anymore.

One time her sister brought her to your game. And she saw you struggling to keep up with the rest of your team—having a bad day to play. She watched you go to Steve and how he threw you your towel and handed you your tumbler being the supportive boyfriend that everyone thinks he is when he is acting like an entitled self-proclaimed coach just watching you, not even cheering or hyping you up.

And before she knew it, when you walked towards where she sat during the game completely shocked at her presence, she leaned enough for everyone not to notice—she offered to fuck you as a reward if ever you win the game. Only if she knew that you have a game, she would bring everything she thinks you might need, she’ll bring you a jug of water, different colors of kinesiology tape, hell, she would buy you new shoes. But right now motivation is all she can offer because it's too high of a risk if she did all these things.

It was the first time she had seen you play because it was one of your rules, for her not to show up whenever you're in a competition, games, tune ups or in an event organized by you or your organization. You had explained to her that you preferred to keep things hidden, no, low-key, to avoid attracting unwanted attention that could arise from others noticing the two of you. She agreed, not even thinking a bit of it because she wanted you safe as you hold a lot of titles in you. She doesn't want to ruin your image though it breaks her heart not being able to watch you win and be successful in each game or competition.

Would that still be important if after you win it was her you would spend the night with where she’ll see you in all your glory as she makes you feel like a champion once more?

At first, keeping your affair a secret had been easy. It was a necessary precaution, one that she understood and respected. But as time went on, Natasha found herself yearning for more.

Sometimes she wishes she would be the one you’re running to after you won a game. She wanted to be able to cheer you on from the sidelines as you won game after game, competition after competition, events after events. She wanted to be there every time you win and every moment of loss—she’ll be there no matter what.

But that will happen anymore, Natasha could already feel the weight of the unknown future bearing down on her. This was it, the moment she had both been looking forward to and dreading. You two are graduating tomorrow, new chapters, new beginnings and things aren't still settled for the both of you, you never opened up, you never told her where you stood in this…clandestine affair.

And that made her want you more. She yearned to be by your side, proudly and openly. She craved for the day when she didn't have to hide her feelings for you or keep her presence a secret. She hoped for the day when she could stand beside you, not as a shadow, not a secret but as a partner—your lover.

Is that too much to ask for?

⧗

The sun was beating down on the graduates and their families, sweat glistening on their foreheads as they chatted and laughed, snapping pictures and the students—graduates hugged each other tightly, tears streaming down their faces as they said their goodbyes.

Natasha's eyes frantically searched for you. Her heart pounded in her chest as she clutched her trencher, every second feeling like an eternity as she scanned the sea of faces—and there you were standing with Steve and she assumed his family—deep in conversation and laughter.

In the midst of the chaotic crowd around you, both of your gazes met and everything else faded away—it felt like the whole world stopped and it’s just the two of you.

You snapped back to reality as Steve pulled you into a warm embrace and kissed the side of your head, his family looking on with teasing grins. But you couldn't help but feel a twinge of cringe because you knew Natasha was watching all this happen.

“Love, I’ll just go see my friends and Mom.” You said, pulling back from Steve’s suffocating embrace. You gave him a small convincing smile as you tried to get yourself away from the situation.

When he nodded you immediately excused yourself to his family and ran towards the direction where you last saw the redhead. Before you could even go away there was a hand who stopped you from walking-running, you gasped as warm and strong arms pulled you into embrace—not a suffocating one.

“Hey beautiful.”

“Nat.” You sighed, leaning closer to her. Her scent envelopes your senses.

You were suddenly jolted back into reality, and swiftly disentangled yourself from Natasha's embrace. You could see the pain flickering in Natasha's eyes as you retreated hastily. You despised yourself for causing her this, yet you couldn't explain your actions just yet. It wasn't that you didn't care for her—quite the opposite, but the fear of exposure and being not accepted prevented you from being out with her freely.

How you wished you could tell her that.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you.”

“Nat, I need to find mom, we…” you trailed off, unsure on how to tell her, “we’re gonna have lunch with Steve’s family.”

Nat's eyes searched your face, sensing the turmoil within you. She seemed to want to say something but held back, her silent gaze speaking volumes. You didn't miss the flash of disappointment in her eyes and the sorrow etched on her face. You were all too familiar with this. So, you swiftly reassured her, placing a gentle hand against her cheek, silently begging her to focus on you.

“Nat, don't forget our week-long plans,” you reminded her softly, your thumb tenderly caressing her cheek. “I’ll be all yours, just you and me.”

Natasha despised how effortlessly you could coax her, and yet, she surrendered willingly as she always did—her love for you overriding all the resistance. Every time you whispered sweet reassurances and gave a comforting touch, she melted, her resolve crumbling effortlessly.

She could never say no to you.

Just as you were about to lean in to steal a kiss from Natasha, a sharp call of your name pierced through the air.

“Y/N.”

You turned around to see your mother watching the two of you, “Mama…”

How you wished she didn't see you lean in for Natasha and to alleviate the awkwardness, you introduce them both to each other.

Nervously, you began, your voice quivering slightly, “Mom, this is Nat…” you trailed off, unsure on how to introduce your lover because you cannot just introduce her as your lover yet since your mom knew about Steve and ‘friend’ just didn't seem adequate to describe what you shared with Natasha, not if you both know what each other tasted like. The thing between you and Natasha was too complex, too dangerous, too intense to be boxed into a single label.

You looked towards Natasha, offering a strained smile, silently begging her to make a good impression. Your mother was known for being judgmental at times, and the last thing you wanted was for her to disapprove of the person dearest to you.

Natasha took the initiative, greeting your mom, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” and she extended a hand. However, your mom's gaze remained fixed, her eyes honed in on the intertwined fingers of your hands with redhead. The subtle gesture didn't escape your mom's keen eyes.

Sensing your mom's penetrating stare, you quickly withdrew your hand from Natasha, creating a bit of distance between the two of you. Your mother seemed lost in thought for a moment before snapping back to reality and reaching out to shake Natasha's hand.

“Congratulations.” She greeted with her unreadable expression and the redhead gave her a warm smile and thanked her.

“Steve and his family are waiting for us.”

You nod, acknowledging your mom's reminder before she started walking away. You turned towards Natasha and you found her looking down, she then handed you a box and whispered, “You should go.”

Despite the aching in your chest, you managed a feeble smile, holding the box she had handed you. It is a necklace with a guitar pendant similar with the electric guitar she's using during her gigs, “It's beautiful.”

No reply came out from the redhead and her silence is making you hard to leave, you longed to remain here—to embrace her. Your heart clenched in your chest as you attempted to suppress the tears threatening to spill, “I'll see you, Nat. Okay?”

Natasha stood there, her eyes fixated on you as you walked away. A soft whisper escaped her lips, lost in the air, wishing that these words are enough to make you stay.

“I love you.”

⧗

Two months had crept by since your graduation day and the affair with Natasha remained a secretive yet constant part of your life. The thrill and passion you shared with her continued to burn brightly, with neither of you daring to mention the status of the affair. The question of what it meant would remain locked away, hidden beneath layers of secrecy.

Not until you kept another secret from your secret lover herself.

“So when are you going to tell me about it?” Natasha's voice was cold as she cut through the silence, her anger barely contained.

You froze under her intense gaze, your body shaking as you fought back tears.

“I...I'm sorry,” you whispered.

Shaking her head, Natasha continued, her eyes flickering with hurt and anger. “Engaged? And you didn’t tell me?”

Your tears finally cascaded down your face as you relived the memories of four days ago, when Steve had proposed to you. How could you say no? He decided to propose to you in front of his parents and your mother. And the sickening weight of expectations and the pressure of you saying yes to him had overwhelmed you causing you to yield without hesitation.

Natasha had learned about the proposal from Steve himself and he had even made a joke about her reuniting with the campus band and playing at your wedding.

It was no secret because you were planning to tell her, of course you are, you were just looking for the right time but when she showed up at your apartment minutes ago, her intoxication evident in her glassy eyes and the strong smell of alcohol that hung heavy got to her, you knew—but you didn't know that it came from your fiance himself.

Natasha's voice cracked in anger and despair, “I did everything you wanted! I followed your rules, your demands. I stayed away when you asked, I played along to keep our…fuck!” She suddenly broke off, a bitter laugh escaping her lips as she wiped the tears trickling down her cheeks. “Relationship isn't even the right word. We're not even a couple, right?”

“Stupid,” she chuckled, “stupid! stupid, stupid!” Natasha unleashed a punch to each word, slamming into the wall next to her. You flinched and fought the urge to soothe her but she turned to you, tears streaming down her face.

“I played along to…” she choked back a sob, “to keep you!” She spat, pointing a finger on you.

Maybe it was too much to ask for.

Her words hit you like a knife to the heart, causing you to physically flinch. Your tears welled up and fell uncontrollably, your whole body quivering with sobs as you struggled to hold yourself together.

“Sorry.”

Your heart was heavy with guilt for causing Natasha so much pain. The single word didn't seem enough to fix the hurt you had done, but it was all you could manage in this moment.

“I just wan…” she breathed, “I just want you to be mine.”

“I am yours, Natasha.” You managed to immediately say between sobs, placing your palm over your chest emphasizing each word.

“Are you?” Her brows knit together, “with that ring on your finger?”

Natasha approached you and with every inch she advanced, you slowly retreated, your body moving back in response to her encroaching presence. Natasha finally stood close, her body towering over you. You could feel the heat of her breath on your skin, infused with the strong scent of alcohol. Her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath she took.

“Y/N you were never mine to begin with and I had to live up with that.”

You were looking away from her, arms wrapped tightly around yourself in a protective manner. Natasha's fingers gently guided your chin, tilting your head up to meet her eyes. Her touch was electrifying as she slid her fingers down to your arm, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“I chose to live up with that.”

Her movements were slow and deliberate as she took your engagement ring off your finger and examined it before letting it bounce to the carpet of your bedroom.

“Engaged, hm?” Natasha smirked, the pads of her thumb wiping the tears running down your cheek, “did you let Steve finally fuck you after you said yes to him?”

You breath hitched at the question but you immediately shook your head sideways, her hands slipped at the back of your neck and hissed.

“I am the only one who can make you say yes over and over again.”

“Natasha, y-you’re drunk,” you stuttered, you would never deny the redhead but you feel uncertain and scared around her right now.

She heard you but she didn't care, she then pulled you into a bruising kiss. Her lips were cold and demanding, silencing any further protests. She held the back of your neck tightly, “Shut up.”

She walked you backwards as she kissed you, the kisses becoming sloppy with each step. You felt the edge of the bed against the back of your knees and as she kissed you deeply, you slowly sank down onto the mattress.

“Lie down.”

“Nat, please…we can talk late—” you were cut short when she shoved her forefinger in your mouth. She watched as you squeezed your eyes shut, finally giving up, your lips sucking gently around her finger.

You chased her finger when she removed it out your mouth then your gaze went down as she moved to remove her belt. Her movements were deliberate as she undid the buckle and pulled it from the loops of her pants, causing them to fall open with her boxers.

Natasha's hand wrapped around a fistful of your hair, harshly tugging your head forward and forcing you to kneel in front of her. Your hands instinctively held her the back of her legs for support, her length inches on your faces as if you knew what to do, your hands slowly reached out to touch her. You wrapped your fingers around her shaft, feeling its thickness and hardness, your thumb rubbing the tip with the pre-cum that covered it.

“Open your mouth,” she plainly said, a command rather than a request. Your lips parted slowly and without a second she pushed forward, easing herself into your mouth. Natasha's expression hardened as she gripped your hair, her hips bucking forward aggressively. She thrust into your mouth without remorse, tears welled in your eyes, but she remained unmoved, solely focused on her own pleasure.

She fucked your mouth ruthlessly, her thighs trembling with the force of her movements. Your nose was pressed against her pelvis, your eyes watering from the rough treatment. The only sound was the sloppy wet noises of her thrusting and your muffled cries.

Natasha was one to fight her moans and grunts back, but she was unable to hold them as she unleashed a thick, hot load directly into your mouth. The force of her orgasm sent ropes of cum shooting down your throat, making you choke and gag on the sheer volume.

In a sudden move, Natasha yanked you up by your hair, her cock slipping out of your mouth with an audible pop. She took a step back, leaving you panting and disoriented, your mouth agape, tears falling down your cheek, spit on the side of your lips and her cum inside you mouth. She reached down and yanked your hair again, forcing you to look up at her. She spat into your open mouth, watching as the saliva mingled with her cum.

“Swallow.”

She squeezed your chin, applying pressure until your throat opened up. You looked straight into her eyes, you felt the lump of cum and spit lodge in your mouth, and then you swallowed the liquid sliding down your throat.

Natasha released her hold on your chin and hair, her voice taking on a dismissive tone. “Bed,” she ordered, turning away from you to clean herself up. You scrambled to your feet, quickly making your way to the bed, the sheets cool against your heated skin.

Natasha hovered on top of you, you tried looking into her bloodshot eyes but you couldn't see anything. You couldn't see her. Her eyes didn't sparkle the way it did when you two were making love…is this even making love?

You wanted to make it up to her, you wanted her to use you for what you did to her. For hurting her, it is all that you could do as of now—it’s all that you could offer. But you wanted her to talk to you through it like she always had, but right now she doesn't seem to care about what you need.

Natasha locked her knees on yours, her thighs squeezing tight to keep you pinned in place. She surged forward, burying her face in the crook of your neck. You could smell the alcohol on her breath as she trailed kisses down your body. She then nipped at your skin, her teeth sinking in hard enough to leave bruises. Right now, she didn't care. In fact, she wanted you to be marked, marked by her and not by your stupid fiance.

“N-Nat…Steve might com—” before you could even finish your sentence, Natasha slapped you hard across the face, the sting making your eyes water.

“Don't fucking say his name when you're underneath me,” she snarled and as if losing her patience she harshly pulled you by your thighs towards her. Without giving you a chance to protest, Natasha thrust into your core with a ferocity you hadn't expected. You could feel yourself stretching around her, each movement of her hips sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Natasha folded your thighs towards your chest, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. You eyed her, tears ready to fall down as she fucked you with reckless abandon. She was like a different person, all rough edges and sharp angles, her usually composed, sweet, and caring nature replaced by a harsh, uncaring desire. Her usually gentle features were twisted into a snarl, her eyes cold and hard, lacking the warmth and spark that usually dwelled within them.

You couldn't help but wince as she thrust into you again and again, the pain dulling the pleasure, yet you let her continue. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly as you bit back a moan, your mouth agape in a silent scream as she took what she wanted.

You

You tried to claw her back, but she was too quick for you. She wiggled and before you knew it, she had gripped both of your hands on her own, pinning them above your head. She didn't want you to touch her and the realization stung.

She then suckled your tits hard, biting and pulling on them until you cried out in pain and pleasure. The rough treatment and seeing you in pain seemed to turn her on more, and she then continued to abuse your sensitive breasts.

“Say you're mine,” at least just this moment.

“Natasha, I’m yours, I’m yours.” You moaned reassuringly—genuinely and you wanted her to see it, to feel it. “I—I'm yours, I'm you...yours,” you breathe, having a hard time to utter a word as she rammed into you.

Natasha's eyes become glossy again, she shook her head sideways as if she's trying to remove what you just said in her head that is now finally ingrained, she asked you to say it, of course you would say it back, but it sounded real and she hated it.

“You're not,” she slurred, “but I am going to make you.”

Natasha’s grunts grew louder, more primal as she neared her peak. Her face contorted, eyes screwed shut, and her movements became jerky, uncoordinated. She touched your lower abdomen to feel her cock bulging in and out. She was close, so close, and you could do nothing but lie helpless beneath her, tears leaving a trail on your cheeks as she held you down and used your body.

She finally let out a guttural growl, her body spasming as she emptied herself inside of you.

At least in this way she could make you really hers.

You jolted awake from the dream as the sound of your baby's cry made you alarmed. It's an instinct that you developed since you had your baby, whatever sound she made you'll be quick to get or coo her, doesn't matter if you're in the shower, cooking or asleep.

You slowly sat in the bed, wiping the sweat that glistened on your neck. You breathed in and out to calm yourself. It was a dream, just a dream, you're not new to it, it's same dream you always dream. It did happen but it never failed to visit—haunt you even in your sleep.

It was a dream but what you're living right now is a nightmare.

You looked over at Steve's body, deep in slumber beside you, the sight of him only causing a lump to form in your throat. The tears began to well up in your eyes, and you quickly looked away, unable to bear the ache and guilt any longer.

You quietly moved away from the bed, the sound of your baby's cries growing louder with every step you took. Your heart swelled as you reached the crib, carefully picking up your child and cradling her in your arms. You gently shushed your baby, cooing softly as you fixed the red hair that had become mussed during her sleep, her little face scrunched up as she wailed.

“Shh, mommy's here.” You whispered as you blinked rapidly, trying to clear your vision to fight back your own tears.

As if she was actually listening to you, her cries became silent as her small chubby hand reached up, her fingers wrapping around the delicate chain of your necklace. She tugged gently and your heart skipped a beat as she pulled the guitar dangle free, holding it in her tiny grasp.

You gently rocked your baby, cooing soft lullaby as you tried to soothe her back to sleep. But as you looked down at her, her green orbs shimmering with unshed tears was looking innocently straight at you. Your heart shattered at the sight and the tears you'd been holding back began to fall, softly dripping onto your baby's soft skin.

“I love you, little one.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader

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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months ago

Text

comparisons

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, female receiving oral, insecurities, semi public sex, partying, drinking but not by reader, good girl!reader

“are you seriously looking at her profile again?” your sister questions, snatching your laptop from you.

“give it back!” you squeal, standing up and attempting to grab it, but she has the height advantage on you.

“seriously, this is getting out of hand.” she sets the laptop back down on your desk, navigating to the block button. “and don't unblock her. it's unhealthy for you to care so much about your boyfriend's ex.”

“she's just so pretty.” you groan. “like how can he go from her to me?”

“you're gorgeous, y/n!” you sister sighs. “you love him. i know you do. just enjoy being together and don't let your insecurities ruin what you have.”

you don't mention it to rafe, no matter how anxious you feel.

“what is it?” rafe questions, hand rubbing over your cheek. “you look sad.”

“no, no.” you shake your head aggressively, forcing a smile onto your face. “im fine, promise. just lost in thought.”

in truth, you saw rafes ex at the party. it's why you retreated to the patio with rafe, glad to have some distance.

“hm…” rafe mumbles, looking over you. “you sure? if you're not feeling the party, we can leave.”

you smile at rafe. you weren't sure what you were getting into when you started dating him. you hung out in the opposite crews at school, rafe was popular and easy going, captain of the football team. you never attended the same parties as him during those years, it wasn't until after school where you graduated valedictorian that you got close to him.

“you love to party, babe. i can handle it.” you love it too, usually.

“yeah, but there's a lot of drinking going on. if you're uncomfortable-”

“no.” you shake your head. you aren't a fan of getting drunk yourself, but you don't mind being around people if all they're doing is dancing and having fun.

“then what is it? you can't fool me darling.”

“i just… saw your ex at the party.” you frown. “i can't help but compare myself to her and… it makes me feel insecure, but im trying not to. i want to get better, seriously.”

“aw, baby.” rafe pulls you onto his lap, tired of any distance between the two of you. “you have nothing to worry about. i only have eyes for you.”

“i know, im being silly.” you sigh, wiping at your under eyes before your tears build up.

“you're the most beautiful girl ive ever seen. i even thought that in high school.” rafe laughs. “but you were so good, so focused on school, i didn't want to become a distraction by trying to get you out on a date.”

“oh my god!” you squeal. “how come you never told me that before?”

rafe just shrugs, a soft smile on his face. “if i knew you felt that way, i would have. i promise, you've got nothing to worry about. im yours.”

you press your lips against rafes, kissing him deeply, right there on the outdoor sofa for everyone to see.

“i need you baby.” rafe groans, hands squeezing at your sides.

“yeah.” you nod. “yeah, need you too.”

“want to go home or… or can i find a room upstairs? kelce won't mind.”

“upstairs.” you stand up, rafe quickly following.

“good.” he smiles down at you, arm wrapped around your waist as he leads you back inside, into the crowd of people.

“rafey!” a voice squeals, making you frown. he doesn't let anyone call him rafey except for you.

“hayley.” rafe sighs, sounding nowhere near as enthusiastic, wanting to get you upstairs as soon as possible. “what do you want?*

“just to say hi.” she twirls a piece of hair around her finger, eyes darting to look at the way his arm is wrapped securely around your body. “how's my rafey?”

“not your rafey. its just rafe to you.” he grunts out.

“oh, you're so silly.” she lets out a shrill laugh, reaching forward to press her hand against his bicep.

“hey, in case you haven't noticed-” you speak up. “rafe isn't with you anymore. so stop calling him rafey and stop touching my man.”

hayley pouts and looks at rafe, giving him an opportunity to defend her, but he just smiles down at you.

“believe me now?” rafe pulls you away towards the stairs, leaving hayley to huff and head for another drink.

“ill believe you when you fuck me.” you smile, shutting the bedroom door behind you and making sure to lock it.

“get naked then, babe.”

you both are quick to strip before coming back together in a mess of tongue and lips as rafe dominates your mouth, leaving no room at all for doubt.

“god, feel how hard i am for you.” rafe takes your hand in his, guiding it to his cock.

you stroke up and down his length, the weight heavy and familiar against your palm. “all this for me?”

“you know it, baby.” he laughs dryly, cut off with a moan as you swipe the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock.

“but first…” rafe takes your hand away, and your eyes widen as he sinks down to his knees. “i have to taste you.”

“oh!” you squeal as rafes hands grip your hips, his mouth burying between your thighs.

“fuck!” you moan out, grabbing onto the large poster bed, sinking your fingernails into the wood as his tongue swipes through your folds.

“god, you're so yummy.” rafe moans, his words vibrating your pussy. he tilts his head up, eyes locking on yours as his lips wrap around your clit.

“rafe!” you scream out, not caring if anyone hears, hoping hayley is nearby enough to hear your moans of pleasure as he focuses on sucking at your clit.

“god, i would make you cum like this over and over, but i need to get inside of you.” rafe stands up, capturing your mouth again.

“wanna ride you.” you tell him. you've slept with rafe many times since the start of your relationship, but he's always been the one on top and in control.

“really?” rafe grins at you, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“yeah.” you nod. “im feeling- im feeling confident.”

“that's just what i like to hear, darling.” rafe presses a kiss to your lips before laying himself down on the bed, head propped up against the pillows so he can watch you.

you climb over top of him, the only light in the room from the moonlight streaming in the window as you align him with your cunt, sinking down with a moan.

“fuck, baby.” rafe grips your hips, not ready yet to fully give up control as you begin to move up and down with his assistance.

“god, so big.” you gasp out.

“mhm, and all for you, my girl.” rafe helps you speed up, not used to being in this position.

your joint moans fill the room as you ride him, grinding your hips back and forth with every movement until you find the spot inside of yourself that has you screaming out.

“ah, fuck, right there?” rafe begins to lift his hips into you, planting his feet into the bed to get the maximum lift possible as he thrusts upwards, angling his cock to push against just where you like it.

you fall forward, pressing your chest against rafes as he holds your hips still, pounding up into you.

“oh my god!” you squeal out, hands gripping onto rafes biceps as they flex and bulge as he lifts you up and down.

“gonna cum baby, can't last.” rafe presses his face into your hair, inhaling your scent. “you feel too good.”

“yeah, inside me.” you nod, own high not far away.

“fuck.” rafes moans grow as his cock swells inside of you, releasing only moments later.

the feeling of him flooding your insides sends you overboard, your orgasm causing your entire body to shake as your cunt squeezes down on rafes cock, milking the rest of his cum, not wanting to leave a drop.

“fuck.” rafes hands squeeze your hips again. “you're so perfect.”

you smile up at him, feeling tired from the sudden act. “take me home?”

“yeah.” rafe let's out a yawn. “in a minute.”

“mmkay.” you hum, resting your cheek against his chest. “don't fall asleep on me, rafey.”

you have to poke rafe awake a minute later. you both get dressed to get out to your car, the party still raging as you walk hand in hand.

“oh, there you are!” hayley stops in front of you, but you've had enough of her.

“sorry, no time to chit chat.” you plaster on a fake enthusiastic smile. “his cum is dripping out of me right now, so we gotta get home and take care of that. enjoy the party though!”

you pull rafe outside as he cackles. “damn, baby.” his arm wraps around your shoulders. “you are so hot when you're jealous.”

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onlymingyus · 19 days ago

Text

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.”

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jlheon · 5 months ago

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౨ৎ — love exists, i’m full of it (psh)

pairing. situationship! park sunghoon x fem! reader genre. angst + fluff + suggestive wc. 2745 notes. sunghoon is toxic + implied they are involved sexually + kinda fwb (?) library.

🗯️ extra peng note. i wish i redeemed sunghoon more but you can take the rushed ending as you will </3

synopsis. when park sunghoon breaks up with his long time girlfriend he needs something to get his mind off her, you happen to be the perfect distraction : a girl who’s naive and has never had a boyfriend

it has been five months since you started your sort of 'arrangement’ with park sunghoon.

you met him at a party. a party you had no business being at.

the party was your average frat party. you were only there to pick up your drunk friend, only to be left banging on the bathroom door for twenty minutes.

she was there with some unknown guy and she told you to go home.

you tried to get through the sea of sweaty bodies when you bumped into someone's hard chest. his drink spilled all over your white shirt, making the drenched fabric completely see through.

you recognized sunghoon as the quiet boy from high school. he never spoke and he was barely present in class, you were bewildered when you watched him walk the stage at graduation.

he seemed to have recognized you too.

you were even prettier than he remembered. that night let himself be a little selfish.

sunghoon was quick to apologize and lead you to his room to lend you a clean shirt.

you ended up staying longer than expected.

sunghoon helped you out the wet shirt, throwing it in his laundry basket, and telling you that he would get out the stain for you.

when sunghoon helped you slip into one of his old shirts he let himself act without thinking.

“my shirt looks good on you,” sunghoon licks his lips as he shamelessly checks you out.

“oh,” you blush, staring at the floor. “thank you.”

“you know,” sunghoon comes closer to whisper in your ear. “you grew up well, i haven’t seen you since graduation.” that was a year ago.

that night, at the age of 19, park sunghoon had successfully taken your first kiss. well, kisses plural. sunghoon had also taken your first make-out.

after an awkward first kiss, you got the hang of it.

sunghoon found it adorable. he could tell you had never kissed anyone before, and you had even outright told him before he leaned it.

your kisses were innocent and shy, nothing like his ex-girlfriend.

he had to place your hands on his shoulders since you stood there with your arms at your sides awkwardly.

sunghoon tried to advance with you once it got steamy but you lightly pushed him off of you.

“sorry,” you apologized. “i’ve never done it before. that was my first kiss,” you sat on his lap with flushed cheeks and tousled hair from sunghoon running his fingers through it.

“that’s okay,” he reassured you. “i wouldn’t want to force you to do anything.”

you try to get up from your spot but sunghoon is stronger than you. he has a firm grip on your hips as he stares into your eyes.

“you’re leaving already?” sunghoon pouts, he's so cute you contemplate kissing him again.

“i mean yeah,” you scratched the back of your neck. “i thought you were looking for a hookup.”

“you don’t want to go further and that’s okay,” sunghoon explains. “but that doesn’t mean you can’t stay.”

you’re even more flustered at his words. why would park sunghoon want to be close to you?

you accept his offer nonetheless. slipping into his arms as you lay on his bed.

sunghoon listens to you ramble about anything. from what you did today leading up to this moment and to the fact you have never had a boyfriend before. you can’t stop talking when your nervous, and park sunghoon makes you even more than nervous.

you’re scared you’re talking too much but sunghoon’s short comments and hums tell you to keep going.

at 12:08 you realize you should probably get back to your dorm.

sunghoon walks you down to your car, holding you close as you weave through the crowd of drunk bodies at the party. he kisses you goodbye before you drive off as a blushing mess.

in the morning, you excitedly tell your hungover roommate about the encounter you had with the mysterious boy from high school.

she informs you the night before you met sunghoon was the very night he and his long-term girlfriend had broken up.

truthfully, hearing that made you feel kind of sad.

two days later he finally texts you that you can come over to exchange shirts.

when sunghoon sees you standing at the door of the frat he can’t help but think about how much prettier you look in the daylight.

clad in a cute pink dress as you stare up at him with your doe eyes, holding his shirt neatly folded in your arms.

he doesn’t think twice before letting you inside and leading you up to his room again.

you end up kissing for an ungodly amount of time. when you don’t feel like it anymore, you find the courage you had in you from the self-pep talk you had before coming and ask him.

“is it true you just broke up with your ex?” you ask while you lean on his chest as you're cuddled up on his bed.

“yeah,” sunghoon replies, eyes still glued to his phone.

“oh,” you frown. “are you over her?”

“it’s only been four days silly,” sunghoon chuckles, setting his phone to look down at you. “of course, i’m not.”

“oh,” you say again. “what is this then?”

“what is what?” sunghoon quirks an eyebrow at you.

“you took my first kiss,” you reminded him, hoping that would mean anything.

“oh,” he says slowly. “this could be a causal thing. you know while i’m getting over her you can get experience.”

“oh i see,” you look at the ceiling.

sunghoon moves down to peck your pouting lips. “so when you get a real boyfriend you’ll know everything since you learned from the best!”

that stung, but regardless you kiss him again to get your mind off of it.

now, three months later since the start of this arrangement, you’ve found sunghoon everything but casual.

for crying out loud, you’re sitting at a fancy restaurant on a date with sunghoon for your birthday.

“happy birthday ____,” sunghoon smiles as he spoon-feeds you the desert he ordered.

“thank you, sunghoon,” you giggle, eating the cake as he watches.

once you’re finished with your bite sunghoon leans in, pecking your lips and licking the bit of icing on the corner of your mouth.

not a day goes past where you don’t wonder why this hasn’t ended and why sunghoon doesn’t want to be your first boyfriend.

every time sunghoon’s name leaves your mouth you’re reminded of the time two months ago when you tried to call him hoon.

he ghosted you for a week after the nickname slipped during a heated make out session in your dorm room.

“i don’t think you should call me hoon,” sunghoon stands at your door, a week after the incident, a week after you last saw him. “you’re starting to sound like you’re my girlfriend.”

“oh,” you stare at him, the sleepiness leaving your body. “of course, i get it!” you force a small smile.

sunghoon enters your dorm at 2:18 am.

he walks towards your bed before getting comfortable under your covers with his arms open. you find yourself wrapped up in his embrace that night and well into the afternoon.

you take note of how he doesn’t kiss you the whole day he spends at your place.

you don’t know whether that is a good or bad thing. on one hand, maybe he is disgusted with you for calling him by a nickname but that wouldn’t make any sense considering the fact he has not let you go in the past six hours. though you hope that this means he finds companionship in you that is more than just the kissing and hookups.

you know you should have stood up a while ago but when sunghoon’s hands find their way into your hair to gently scratch your scalp you give in.

sunghoon and you spend the night together for your birthday. when you wake up skin to skin with him, you start to feel sick.

what the hell have you gotten yourself into?

you’re not even sure what you should label the relationship you and sunghoon have.

sunghoon is your friend. a friend that the first time you talked to him in over a year, took you back to his bedroom door and took your first kiss.

sunghoon is also the closest thing you have ever had to a lover. he’s taken almost all of your firsts. whether that is your first kiss or your first time. he takes you on dates and he never leaves in the middle of the night.

he’s always there for you when you need a ride after a night out with your friends.

which leads you to the latest encounter you’ve had with park sunghoon.

you were so drunk. unbelievably drunk.

it’s been five months since you have started seeing sunghoon and coincidentally the same month your best friend returned from her exchange student program abroad.

you went out for drinks to catch up with her and inevitably spilled your guts about the whole sunghoon situation.

and now you’re wasted with all of your friends with nobody to call and get you but him.

“____?” his raspy voice reverberates in your ear.

“hoon! oh my god, sorry! i mean sunghoon!” your cheery voice slurs. “are you busy?”

“it’s two am,” he responds sarcastically, but your hazy mind doesn’t let you recognize that.

“oh, sorry for bothering you then,” you apologize.

“i’m kidding ____,” sunghoon chuckes. “you need anything?”

“if it’s not a bother, can you pick me up?”

“where are you?” you hear his sheets rustle in the background.

“i’m at a club!” you giggle. “not sure which one!”

“____,” sunghoon sighs. “send me your location.”

“okay!”

when sunghoon arrives at your location he easily spots you drunk on the sidewalk. sitting on the disgusting pavement but you were too drunk and tired to care.

he gets out and carefully gets you into the passenger’s side of his car, buckling you in as you were too sleepy to do it yourself.

once sunghoon can get you inside of your apartment he helps you take off your shoes. carrying your tired body from the car to the hallway to your bed. taking off your makeup with some micellar water even though he saw makeup wipes in your cabinet because he knows they break you out.

he grabs a hoodie that he coincidentally had been looking for off your dresser and changes you out of the short red dress you had been wearing.

sunghoon tucks you under the covers before he sits on the empty side of the bed. he checks his phone to see it is way past three am and he decides maybe he should just stay the night. you’d think that after how long you two have been seeing each other you’ve spent the whole night together but sunghoon always insists on leaving or driving you home. he does this because ‘we aren’t a couple’.

“why are you still here?” you break the silence, which shocks sunghoon as he was sure you were completely knocked out.

“you scared me,” sunghoon breathily chuckles. “thought you were asleep.”

“‘m waiting for you to leave,” you yawn out, snuggling further into your duvet, sunghoon can’t help the smile breaking onto his face at the sight.

“why?” he questions, climbing under the covers next to you.

“don’t wanna embarrass myself in front of you,” you answer meekly. “you make me nervous.”

“don’t be silly ____, it’s just me,” sunghoon attempts to reassure you.

“that’s the problem,” you mumble, confusing sunghoon further. “being around you is weird because we’re re not dating but sometimes it feels like we are.”

“i guess so,” he stares at the side of your face, admiring how you look even prettier without makeup on while he can, given the fact you never let him see you without makeup. he doesn’t understand why. “but i’ve seen you in so many different states.”

“i kind of hate that,” you confess. “i’ve always wanted to fall in love. you check off almost everything ten year old me wished for, except for the fact we’re not dating, and you like me like that anyways.”

you never fail to make park sunghoon speechless.

“i just know little me is screaming at me,” you giggle, though your mood changes drastically. “i know that love is real because i exist and i’m unfortunately full of it, but i think i have too much already so nobody is going to give me any back.” you shift away from him.

“that’s not true,” sunghoon takes a deep breath before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

“then why can’t it be you?” your voice falters as tears well up in your eyes. “i want it to be you.”

“i can’t answer that right now,” sunghoon says apologetically, holding you closer.

he does not get any sleep that night. his eyes don’t even shut, only closing for a second to blink. sunghoon cannot stop thinking about your tearful confession.

your words replay in his mind like a broken record.

he wants to be with you so bad but he fears that once you establish your relationship he’s going to be the worst boyfriend imaginable. since that’s what his ex and him had constantly fought over, leading to the demise of their relationship.

he’s never shared with anyone how toxic him and his ex were.

so when he met you that night at the party he let his selfishness take over him. the way you were so sweet and shy towards him was so refreshing.

sunghoon knows it was wrong to string you along so he could use you to get over his ex girlfriend, but he couldn’t just let you go, but he also couldn’t jump into another relationship so quickly.

he failed to consider how this whole arrangement would make you feel. you’d been seeing each other for nearly half a year now, way longer than either of you anticipated.

but now he knows that you stuck around even though it was doing nothing but hurt you just because he had you completely wrapped around his finger.

you wanted to love him and he didn’t think he could be good enough to give you the love you dreamed about.

sunghoon thought he was a total douche.

the next morning you're surprised to feel a pair of arms around you. maybe you finally broke out of your shell last night and met someone at the bar who wasn’t sunghoon.

sunghoon can’t bear to hurt you, but it seems like he’s already been doing that all along.

“you’re awake,” you hear his familiar voice and slip out of his hold, sitting up, and scooting away.

“i am,” you reply, looking down at your clothes. “why are you still here?”

“am i not allowed to be?” sunghoon jokes, his eyebags prominent.

“i mean,” you scratch your head. “after what i said last night i thought you would hate me. this is only supposed to be casual and i ruined it.”

“you didn’t ruin anything,” sunghoon sits up and reaches for your hand to interlace it with his. “it’s my fault for-”

“no, don’t blame yourself. i knew what i was getting into and i assumed you would like me given time. i just hope we can still be friends,” your glossy eyes bore into his.

“i don’t want to be friends-”

“wow, okay. after i just spilled my guts?” you pull your hand away from his and back away.

“stop cutting me off,” sunghoon runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “i want to be your boyfriend.”

“am i still drunk,” you whisper to yourself as you check your surroundings.

“you’re sober now,” sunghoon reaches out for you once more. “let me be your boyfriend, please?”

you stare at sunghoon’s desperate and tired expression and crack a smile. throwing yourself into his lap. “not yet,” you say, muffled against his neck, as close to him as possible.

“this can be a restart,” you suggest, gazing up at him. “i think i’ll need some time.”

“can’t be a restart when i’ve seen every inch of you,” sunghoon smirks as he looks down.

“shut up!” your ears redden as you push his shoulder.

“take you all the time you need,” sunghoon pecks your forehead. “i’m always waiting for you and i’ll prove myself.”

690 notes · View notes

beginningofwonderland · 1 year ago

Text

Stay Focused - San

Pairing: university student y/n x office worker San

Genre: smut with plot (MINORS DNI!)

Word Count: 12.5k (I don't know what happened)

Summary: Your mother insists on getting you a tutor for your studies. You want to resist until you meet Choi San, your tutor. His sweet talk and good looks make you focus on anything but your studies and you do everything to finally catch his attention in the same way.

Warnings: San is a few years older (5 to be exact), some nipple play, fingering, some orgasm denial, lots of dirty talk, blowjob (face-fucking leaning), protected sex, mirror sex

The reader in this is so horny omg. Just straight up trash for San (relatable). Also very long build-up.

"Good is not enough in this family," your mother repeats to you for what feels like the 100th time. „Your grades have to be exceptional if you want to work in my business."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you change your phone to the other hand to stir your pasta around. You just told her about your recent test results which of course are not satisfactory to her.

The problem is that you are actually doing pretty good. You never missed or failed a class, you passed all your courses with at least a good score and you had even fulfilled additional classes to broaden the spectrum of your studies. But just like she said: Good is not enough for her. She won't shut up about your grades until you reach 100% in all of your classes - which is basically impossible, especially in your field of study.

"Do you even still want to work in the family business?" your mother asks you provokingly. And the problem is, you do. You really do. Your mother is the CEO of a big pharmacy company and ever since you were a kid you followed her interest in chemistry. You even chose your pharmacy major without her influence. But now that you are taking the same path as her, she is all in your business about being the perfect little mini-her.

"I do, mom. I'm working hard on it, I promise. The next exam is in four weeks and I already started studying."

She makes a huffing sound before answering you: "You said that the last three times as well and still didn't get a full score. You should really get a tutor."

"Mom! I'm the best in my class. Why should I get a tutor? I'm doing great!" You are glad you're only talking to her on the phone so that she doesn't see the way your hands clasps over your face. She can't be serious with you. Getting a tutor with your grades is just embarrassing.

"But not great enough. You know what? The son of a close business partner recently started working at the company. He graduated a few years ago with an honour's degree and seems to be a very promising young man. I'll ask him to tutor you."

Your cheeks start to heat up just at the thought of how embarrassing the whole thing will be for you. Getting a tutor that worked for your mother is literally the worst case scenario. You feel like a high school student that doesn't pay attention in school and now gets scolded for it.

"I do not need a tutor, mom." You state once again but her mind is already made up.

"I'll give him your number and he will contact you. And don't you dare be rude to him, his father is very important for our business!"

You can't believe her words. Since when have you ever been rude to anyone she introduced you to? Your mother ends the call before you can protest any more.

Angrily, you fish a single spaghetti out of your pot to taste it. It's perfectly cooked when you munch on it in annoyance.

--------------------------------

This is Choi San.

Your mother told me you needed tutoring on your pharmacy classes and gave me your schedule.

I can teach you Tuesday and Thursday afternoon from 6PM. Would that work for you?

You fall back onto bed with a frustrated groan as you read the messages. She really asked him. Now you have no choice but agree to him tutoring you because your mother would kill you otherwise.

Typing a reply you take a deep breath. This will be such a waste of time for the both of you.

Hello! Tuesdays and Thursdays are good. Thank you so much.

You hate how pathetic you sound. What are you even thanking him for? You don't want him to tutor you and he was definitely forced by your mother so why even play pretend?

No problem. We can use meeting room 117 at the company since I reserved it for us. I'll see you on Tuesday.

You dread Tuesday every single day from now on. When it finally arrives you feel ridiculous as you enter the large building of your mother's company. You have been here countless times but you never thought you would get tutor lessons here.

Even worse is that your mother made you go greet her beforehand. She specifically texted you to visit her office before the appointment with Mr. Choi. You walk past her assistant with a polite greeting and finally enter her office.

The luxurious room sat at the top floor of the building with a nice view over the city. Sometimes you forget how successful her company actually is. It can be quiet intimidating.

"There you are," she greets you with a mere look up from a bunch of files on her desk. "I hope you prepared well for your tutoring session. Please don't embarrass yourself in front of Mr. Choi. His father is an important business partner of mine and he himself seems to be a very promising employee. I don't want my own daughter to make him think worse of the company."

Of course she only worries about the company. The idea that this is incredibly humiliating for her own daughter does not even cross her mind.

"Hello, mom. Of course I prepared well, I always do. I won't disappoint you."

She nods at you, satisfied with your answer before looking at her watch. "Then you should head to the meeting room. He is always ridiculously early for meetings so he's probably waiting for you already."

Great, you think to yourself. You hoped you would be able to grab a coffee beforehand.

"I'll go right away. Bye, mom."

You walk to the elevator with heavy steps and check your own watch. It's still fifteen minutes until 6PM so there's plenty of time to grab a coffee before, no matter what your mother might say.

Entering the elevator you select the floor of the meeting room with the plan to walk to the coffee pantry first. Half-way down, the elevator stops on a different floor. When the doors open you almost choke on your polite "Hello" as your eyes take in the person in front of you.

Walking into the elevator is easily the most attractive man you have ever seen in your life. Dressed in a tight pair of dark pants and a perfectly fitted dress-shirt the handsome stranger repeats your greeting with a small bow and a mind-numbingly attractive smile. His eyes carry a little glimmer even behind the round pair of glasses he wears and as he pushes back his black hair you feel like swooning.

You have to keep yourself from staring when he takes his place in the elevator and both of you wait for it to move. Just now you realize he hasn't pushed a button, which means he is heading to the same floor as you. Out of the corner of your eyes you can't help but watch him.

He is a few inches taller than you but appears even bigger due to his broad frame. You wonder where that man even finds clothes that fit his stature with his broad shoulders and tiny waist. He checks his most definitely expensive wrist watch before looking at the display counting down the floors.

When the elevator doors open with a ding, you almost jolt. You were so caught up in thinking about how good he looks that you didn't even notice arriving on your floor. The handsome man gestures for you to step out first with another deadly smile in your direction.

"Thank you," you barely breath out as you step out of the elevator in front of him. It feels like the air outside is ten degrees colder. Without looking back you head to the pantry of the floor. You need a coffee even more than before now that you can only think of that guy from the elevator. There is no way you can concentrate on tutoring now without some caffeine.

The benefit of being the CEO's daughter is having a card with unlimited access to the coffee machines so you happily press the button for a black coffee. At the familiar buzzing sound you can finally relax and take a deep breath. No man has ever made you so flustered before just by existing. Maybe you should visit the office more often if that was the kind of employees your mother hired.

Taking your coffee into one hand and your study bag into the other you turn around to head to the meeting room. Caught up deeply in your thoughts you almost run head first into the person behind you.

"Woah, careful there. You don't want to spill that coffee do you?" his voice is smooth like honey, with a joking tone to it. You blink up at him a few times before you find your words.

"I'm sorry. I was distracted."

The man from the elevator smiles at you and you feel your body warming up from the inside out.

"Don't worry, nothing happened." He looks you up and down quickly before holding eye contact once again.

"Excuse the question, but do you happen to be director Kim's daughter?"

You stare at him in confusion. "Yes. Yes, I am. How did you know?"

He moves past you, grabbing a cup from the pantry himself and turning on the coffee machine before he answers:

"You share her eyes. But more importantly, your bag has a pin of the pharmacy faculty of the university and because I'm supposed to meet her daughter for tutoring on this floor in - " he checks his watch again: "exactly 12 minutes, I figured it might be you."

You are impressed. His looks are already enough to have your eyes turn into hearts but there is probably nothing that makes a man more attractive to you than his wit. But what hits you even more than that is the fact that THIS was your tutor.

I take everything back mom, I love tutoring. Sign me up for another year.

"Well, you figured correctly," you reply weakly, at a loss for words. "Nice to meet you Mr. Choi."

You put your cup on the pantry table to reach your hand out to him. He takes it with a smile.

"Nice to meet you too, Miss Kim. I was going to get the two of us some coffee but as I can see you already helped yourself."

Oh, so he's a gentleman as well.

"Next time you should let me take care of that," you said showing him your free access card. "I happen to own the key to infinite coffee."

"Does the caffeine addiction come for free with that as well?" You chuckle at his joke.

"I think it's the requirement to get it in the first place."

"Well then I will happily let you get us coffee next time."

Next time, you think. The reality that you will be seeing this man on a regular basis hits you.

For a second the two of you just smile at each other. Then Mr. Choi notices that his coffee is done and he grabs the cup.

"Let's head to the meeting room then. I wouldn't want to waste your time."

You sir, can waste my time any day of the week, you think to yourself but obviously keep silent as you follow him to the room.

He holds the door open for you and you settle down onto one of the meeting chairs. You always hated these things. They are designed to make you sit upright and therefore terribly uncomfortable. You desperately want to fold one of your legs under yourself like you always do at home but you have a good image to keep. After taking a seat across from you he puts his bag onto the table and looks at you expectantly.

"So what topics exactly are you struggling with? It's been a while for me but I'm sure I can help."

"To be honest with you, I don't really need help on anything."

San raises his eyebrows behind the round glasses on his nose. "What do you mean?"

You sigh, not knowing how to explain this dilemma best. "My mother made me get a tutor because she believes I need better grades. In fact I'm the best of my year with perfect attendance and an average of 95%. She says that everything under 100% is not enough which is why she must have thought of you as a tutor."

San just stares at you with a peculiar look on his face. He looks almost impressed from your words.

"I knew director Kim could be quite strict but I had never imagined that extent. I'm sorry she made you do this, a 95% average is very impressive in the pharmacy field."

"Says someone with a perfect 100% graduation," you snap back, a little more spiteful than you want to. But San doesn't seem to take it the wrong way. Instead he chuckles in response. The sound sends shivers down your spine, his voice dipping way lower than you had expected it could.

"Trust me, that wasn't all brains. I only know my way around people." You don't doubt that last statement for even a second.

"Maybe instead of teaching I can give you some tips around the university. That would probably help you more."

Now you are interested.

"What kind of tips for example?" You lean forward resting an elbow on the table as you pick your cup of coffee up for a sip. It's still burning hot but you pretend you didn't just burn your tongue as you set it back down.

"Does Mr. Han still do the medicine lectures? He's been using the same exam template for years. Pharmacy students are just to selfish to share the results with the younger students. I'll look for my old exams later to give them to you."

Your mouth opens in awe. Everyone from the year above had told you Mr Han's exams were the hardest and it turns out they were just lying to intimidate you. The competition was real.

"These fuckers," you mumble beneath your breath but judging by his chuckle, San heard you just fine.

"Sorry," you excuse your language immediately with a small nod. He is still an employee under your mother and she told you explicitly to act well around him. Hiding your uneasiness you go for another scolding sip of coffee.

"Don't worry, darling. I won't go complaining to your mother about your language. You don't need to be her perfect little girl for me."

You almost choke on your coffee and have to force the liquid down your throat with an effort. You really wish they didn't but his words made your insides squirm. The amount of money you'd pay him to call you 'darling' again is surely an embarrassing amount. But good little girl also didn't sound too bad from his mouth.

"Thanks," you mumble, not knowing what else to say and stare onto the table to hide your flushing face. If you look at him with those slutty, round glasses right now, you're sure you'll combust.

You don't notice, but Mr. Choi eyes you up and down carefully before he resumes speaking. He smiles at your flustered state that obviously doesn't escape his sharp senses. Seeing your pretty face flush from only these few words, satisfies him deeply.

"Then how about that toxicology class? If Mr. Lim still teaches it, I know a few ways to get on his good side. He always picks favourites and it shows in the grades."

Mr. Choi continues listing off ways to better your grades around your professors. You can't help but be impressed. Not only is he obviously very intelligent but also great with people. Maybe what kept you from exceeding in your studies was your rather reserved nature in class.

"How about this," Mr. Choi finally proposes after teaching you some of his ways. "I'll get you my old notes and exams and with that you will surely ace all your tests. Then we can meet up for these tutoring sessions and while you study in peace I can get some work done. This way your mother is happy and we both profit from the situation."

You nod without hesitation. "That sounds like a great idea. Thank you so much, Mr. Choi."

He groans at your words, a sound that makes you react in a way you don't even want to put into words.

"Please don't call me Mr. Choi when we're alone that makes me feel terribly old. My name is San."

"Aren't you older than me though?" you ask back carefully. It doesn't feel right to call him by his first name.

"If 5 years are old to you?" he inquires with a slight teasing edge to his voice. You don't know if he's flirting with you or if you are just becoming a witness to this man's effortless social skills.

Truthfully, you are 22 and 5 years more don't seem that much to you. Still his way with words and the confident aura around him make him seem more mature.

"I didn't say old. Just older."

He rolls his eyes at your stubbornness, leisurely resting one of his elbows on the backrest behind him. "Just call me San, darling."

There it is again. That word single-handedly turns you into a blushing mess within seconds and you find yourself agreeing without another thought.

"Okay, San."

A satisfied smile spreads on his face and you marvel at the dimples that form on his cheeks. "Much better. Than how about you do some studying and I'll get some work done now?"

"Sounds good," you reply and start taking out your classwork. He could've told you to start stripping right now and you would've agreed without question. Damn you are down bad for him already...

It is a weird situation at first. You are used to studying around strangers in the library, but sitting alone in a room with San makes it hard to focus on your upcoming test. His eyes keep flicking from his work laptop across to you and you don't know if he's interest in the topic you're studying or you.

You yourself on the other hand are surely interested in him and you can't help but steal a few glances at him working diligently at his laptop every now and then. Even typing on his keyboard looks ridiculously hot on him with the way his slender fingers run over the keys.

After about two hours of you trying to keep your eyes on your notes San finally closes his laptop and stares at you until you reciprocate his look.

"I guess two hours is enough to make your mother think you studied, right?" he asks with one corner of his mouth slightly lifted.

"Sure," you respond weakly.

"I'll look for my old tests and will bring them on Thursday," he goes on as he stands up to pack up his laptop and bag. You also start gathering your study books.

"Thank you again," you answer lamely. But the promise of already seeing him again on Thursday excites you.

When you proceed to grab your now empty coffee cup his hands react quickly as he snatches it from you.

"Don't worry about that, I'll put those away," he's leaning over the table now, smiling at you through slightly closed eyes and you can't help but be entranced by his looks. "You should make sure to get home before it's dark outside. Want you to get home safely."

"Don't worry about me, I'll manage."

"Oh but I won't if something happens to you and your mother finds out you were last seen with me," he replies cockily as you two finally go to the door.

You have to chuckle at his remark. "Good to know I'm not the only one terrified of her."

"Everyone is terrified of her," he mumbles under his breath but you are already reaching the coffee pantry - aka your cue to go home.

"Can we use the same room on Thursday?" you ask as you stop in front of him. You make sure to brush your hair behind your ear in a nonchalant manner, knowing it shows your good angles.

"Yeah, I already booked it," San replies easily, eyes fixing yours from above. "But let's meet at the coffee machine here. I want to at least take advantage of that free coffee if I give you all my study secrets."

He winks at you at the last part of the sentence and it makes your insides twirl like on a rollercoaster. You give him a small smile through fluttering lashes. "So that's what you meant with a win-win situation: Endless coffee. Well it looks like I don't have a choice but to be your personal coffee machine."

You want to punch yourself right after that sentence leaves your mouth. How much more stupid could you possibly sound? Personal coffee machine. Saying you wanted to be his personal slut would have been less embarrassing.

But San doesn't seem to mind your awkward response. "Sounds good to me," he replies smoothly. "Then have a good ride home and I'll see you on Thursday."

"Until Thursday," you reply before you can say something stupid again and stroll off to the elevator with a small wave.

As soon as the doors close behind you, your head thumps against the steel wall. There is no way you will get any studying done with that man in the same room as you.

---------------------

Your next few meetings with San go on smoothly. You are always on time but he is still earlier than you, waiting for you at the coffee machine. You get both of you a coffee - sometimes two if you feel like it - and you two get to work in a comfortable silence sitting opposite to each other in the meeting room.

After San brought you his old exams you can now prepare exactly what you need to know for your next tests. But no matter how hard you try to focus on your studies, your eyes keep wandering from your books up to the handsome man working on his laptop.

You soon notice his seemingly endless closet full of tailored dressing shirts and perfectly matching pants. He always looks immaculate, not a single wrinkle on his shirt and his hair always neatly combed back. Even his skin is flawless to the point that you start questioning if Choi San might be a figment of your imagination.

Just like his outer appearance, his manners are immaculate. Like you already noticed on your first meeting, he is a sweet talker. Always knowing the right thing to say and never letting your conversation end in awkwardness.

Whenever he feels like taking a break you notice him starting to talk to you. At first he asks how your studies are going. Then he wanders off to the professors you two shared and how he managed to ace all his classes.

Your whole attention is glued to his lips. For one thing because the information he can provide you with is crucial to your academic development but much more importantly because his lips are the prettiest thing you have ever seen. They look so plump and smooth while he's talking that your mind can't help but wander to the other things he might be able to do with them besides talking.

If at your first meeting you were down bad for Choi San, one month later you felt like you were drowning and he was the last bit of oxygen left on earth. You wanted him with a passion that you didn't even know you were capable of.

But you couldn't have him. There was too much at stake. He still worked for your mother and if you made a move on him that he wouldn't reciprocate you would risk the eternal hate of the only woman that still held control over your life. And so far San hadn't shown any sign of feeling the same way about you that you did for him.

„You're stuck on that?" San suddenly asks you over the page of biochemistry that you've been staring at for a solid five minutes. You haven't spared a single thought on the topic in front of you. Your mind is only occupied by the thought of San leaning over you on the meeting chair, your chin in between his slender fingers as he smirks down at you. You hate him for having this effect on you when you so desperately need to focus on your studies.

You really need to get your thoughts together.

„Oh no I was just getting carried away," you answer, looking at him pointedly with a sly smile.

You tried little attacks like this on him before. A casual pull down of your shirt, stretching your arms to make it ride up over your stomach or even looking directly at his lips as he spoke. But no matter how daring you get you can never catch San slipping.

His eyes stay on yours only whenever he looks at you, his tone is always polite and never goes farther than a casual joke. You simply can't draw a single reaction from him and it drives you insane.

„Do you need a small break? We could get another coffee," he offers helpfully.

I don't want a damn coffee I want you to fuck me on this meeting table.

"I'd love to, but I'm already way too warm today. I fear the AC can't fight against the heat anymore."

It has gotten exponentially hotter over the past days and you can feel it even inside the modern building.

"You're right, it's quite hot in here," San says with a disappointed face. "What a shame we don't have iced coffee. We should get some on Tuesday!"

His eyes light up in excitement and this little sliver of pure happiness doesn't escape you. It's surprising how cute he can be with that shamelessly hot body of his.

"Do you know a place near?" You ask to drag on the conversation. You yourself know at least 3 cafés in the area that sell iced coffee but you want San to tell you a place. Maybe his favourite. So that you can go and think of him.

"Yes, I can show you!" he answers proudly.

"I'd love to." You send him a gentle smile with long eye contact before both of you look back at your work.

But your concentration withers away like the dying plant in the corner of the room when Choi San begins undoing the buttons of his shirt sleeves.

You know you shouldn't but your eyes immediately watch as his slender fingers start neatly folding up his sleeves. The muscles in his underarms dance beneath his skin as inch after inch of skin gets revealed.

You feel like a medieval man salivating over exposed ankles as you stare at San's arms. The veins are protruding in the heat and his honey skin is glistening under the bland neon lights.

Your heartbeat quickens and it's mostly because it feels like you finally found San slipping. Him rolling up his sleeves is like a crack in his perfect mask and you are certain that he wouldn't do it anywhere else in the company. He only does this because he is with you.

"Shoot," he suddenly exclaims and draws your attention up to his face. You catch the small pout that appears on his lips before he looks back at you.

"What is it?" you ask him.

"I forgot to book the meeting room for Tuesday and now everything is blocked. There is a work event next week. I should've booked it earlier."

"Oh," you simply reply. This is even more confusing. You don't believe that San would ever forget such an important event. Is he trying to get rid of you?

"Don't worry about it, darling." His smirk and the nickname has you fighting for air. "I'll find us something else."

You can only nod at him with a smile. Maybe he isn't trying to get rid of you.

The rest of your study/work time flies by as your mind thinks of all the possible meeting places you and San could have for Tuesday. You feel like a highschool girl dreaming about dates with your crush but you don't care. The man that is supposed to be tutoring you just makes your heart speed up in a way that you haven't experienced ever before.

When your meeting time comes to an end and San starts packing up his stuff he simply says: "How about we meet at my place next time? I don't like working in cafés it's always so crowded and noisy. And I have coffee too."

You snap up at him in surprise at the proposal. "Sure," you reply as nonchalantly as you can at the prospect of going to Choi San's apartment. Alone. With him.

"I can pick you up here with my car after work. So you don't have any extra way."

"That sounds good," you reply with a small smile, trying not to sound too excited.

"Then until next week," he says with one of his handsome smiles and you say your goodbyes before you can turn even redder in his presence.

When you walk onto the elevator this time and the door closes behind you, your heart is pounding into your throat. As the realization sets in that you will be alone with Choi San in his apartment a satisfied smile set over your face. Oh you will use that chance for sure.

----------------------

You spend the entire day preparing for your tutor appointment with San. Something deep inside you tells you that this behaviour is ridiculous but you push this inner voice back down as you play your favourite music and get ready.

You wear your hair in light waves and put on makeup to bring out your eyes but not look overly done up. Your outfit was a tricky matter but you settled on a classic pleated skirt and a tight long-sleeve. Everything about your appearance today lands on the thin line between innocent and suggestive and you are satisfied when you twirl around in front of the mirror.

All you want is one small reaction out of the man that you have thirsted for over the past weeks. If Choi San even so much as lets his eyes scan you up and down, your mission would be successful. Lost in your task of getting ready you almost forget to actually pack your study books before heading to your mothers company.

You two agreed on San picking you up at the company's garage. So you are taking down the elevator to the parking floor and checking yourself one last time in your phone camera before stepping into the parking lot.

Having no idea how his car looks like you pull up your chat with San, wanting to ask him where to go. But before you can type your message a calm voice calls you over from across the parking lot.

"Y/n!"

You turn around to a sight that makes your heart flutter. San is leaning onto his car, a chic black Mercedes. His white dress shirt has one button unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled up again. His feet are crossed over each other leisurely as he waits for you to come over.

Walking up to him you have to try real hard to look casual and not like your nerves are taking over you with the impending situation of being in the same car as San for an undefined amount of time. Your heart is beating already and he hasn't even called you any nicknames yet.

"Hello, San. You're not wearing glasses today?" you notice in surprise and hope it doesn't come off as too attentive.

"Sometimes I wear contacts," he replies smoothly. "It's a styling decision."

While you love the glasses on San seeing him without has a different charm to it. Almost like he is showing you a different side of him.

"Ready to go?" you ask him to keep the conversation going and you're almost proud of your nonchalant tone.

"Ready when you are," he replies with a light smile and walks around the car to open the door for you.

Of course he opens the door for me.

Before you can get in he also takes your bag from you to store it in the back. You want to refuse but one of his smiles finally makes you give in and you hand him the bag. Finally, you thank him and sit down in the passenger seat. The car looks even nicer on the inside: leather seats and perfectly clean. Something inside you starts questioning where this man hides his flaws since noone can possibly be this perfect at all times.

"It's only a 20 minute drive," San explains as he gets into the driver's seat and turns on the engine. You can't help but watch his hands as he manages the gearshift. But as he turns around to look for obstacles his eyes get stuck on you. For a second you think you got him. That his eyes linger on you for a little too long because you finally pulled a reaction out of him.

"You haven't even put your seatbelt on, darling."

And with that your mind is blank. Simple emptiness.

Before you can react, his hand reaches past you, grabbing the seatbelt and plugging it in. His hand doesn't so much as grace your shoulder for a millisecond but you feel like your lungs are constricting.

"Thanks," you breath out before he finally pulls out of the parking spot. He does that wildly attractive thing where he put his hand on the back of the passenger's seat while driving backwards and you feel like losing it already. How will you survive being in the same apartment with this man. San however seems his usual chatty self.

"I'm sorry again for not booking the meeting room in time. I already reserved it for the weeks to come," he starts talking to you.

"Don't worry. I totally don't mind," you answer and regret it immediately. Did that sound too eager? Something about Sam's presence makes you overthink every single word you say.

"I have a fancy coffee machine at home so I can at least return the favour of you getting me coffee all the time."

You smile at that. It feels like this little inside thing between you two how you always use your company privileges to pay for both of your coffee. San thanks you every single time, bringing up how much you save his day.

"I never thought you were that much of a coffee guy at home too," you say trying to get him to tell you more about himself.

"You're acting like I didn't go through pharmacy as well!" He replies with a slightly sulky tone. "No way to survive that major without getting addicted to coffee."

You chuckle at his response. "That's true unfortunately. So you just carried the addiction into your job?"

"You could state it like that but by buying a fancy machine you can just say that coffee is your hobby instead."

Whenever you two talk about mundane topics like this you can't help but be glued to his lips. To get a glimpse of the Choi San that isn't working over-hours all the time and kept up his perfect image at all costs. You want to find out the details about him. Like how he enjoys his coffee or what colour he might like best.

You continue the drive in casual chatter like this before finally reaching your destination. As San pulls into an underground parking lot of an apartment building your heart rate quickens again. Something about seeing his apartment makes you incredibly nervous.

He tells you to wait inside the car after he lets the motor die down so that he can open the door for you again. Even this small gesture has you wrapped around his finger and you smile as you try to step out of the car as gracefully as you can.

San leads you into an elevator and as soon as the doors close you feel reminded of your first meeting. Of how he took your breath away just by standing next to you in such a small space. And now there isn't much difference. He still makes you just as nervous. But at least you can talk to him now.

"How is studying for your exams going so far?" He asks casually.

"It's okay," you reply lamely. "I'm trying my best."

"You know if you actually do need my help you can obviously ask me," he offers alluding to your deal of him basically just getting his own work done instead of tutoring you.

"You've already helped me so much. All I need to do now is actually study," you say turning down his argument.

You idiot, you think to yourself. You could've at least pretended to need his help.

You wait in silence as the remaining floors rush past you. You're surprised with every passing number, wondering what floor San might be living on. But the elevator doesn't stop until the highest floor.

San let's you exit first which makes no sense to you since you don't know where to go. So you wait for him to show you the way to his apartment.

As soon as he unlocks the door and leads you two inside you curiously scan his place. On a first glance it looks almost exactly like you expected: it's very clean and tidy, the furniture is modern and rather minimalistic and the whole place carries a simple colour theme of black and chrome with only hints of colour. The entrance leads straight into an open living room that connects to the kitchen.

"Make yourself at home at the dinner table," San offers while gesturing at the big, black table that looks like straight out of a design magazine.

You both place your shoes neatly at the entrance of his apartment before you take your bag to the table. As you choose a seat from which you can look outside the gigantic window front, San heads over to the kitchen, getting something from a cupboard.

"Can I get you a glass of water before I make some coffee?" He asks you with a kind smile.

"That would be nice," you answer even though water was not what you were craving right now.

He filled one for you and brought it over before returning to the kitchen. "You want your coffee hot or iced?"

"Iced? This is better service than at the company. You should forget to book the meeting room more often." It's a weak attempt at flirting with him but he laughs non the less.

"So iced it is?" He confirms with you again and turns on his electric coffee grinder after you nod approvingly.

It shouldn't captivate you that much, looking at him while he was performing such a basic task as making coffee. But you could watch him for hours, the way his broad back stretches out his dress shirt. The way he moves around so smoothly. The way the muscles in his arms flex as he handles his espresso machine.

You turn towards your study materials just in time before he faces you again, two iced coffees in his hands. He places one gently in front of you before he sits down opposite of you.

"Thank you," you smile at him extra sweetly.

"Anything you want, darling."

You swear to yourself that if he calls you darling one more time you will throw all rational thoughts out of the window and straddle him right here in his stupid designer living room chair. But for now you settle for a coy smile as you feel your cheeks heat up.

To add to your demise, as San drags his chair closer to the table both of your knees touch for a brief second before he casually changes his seating position. The table is narrower than the one in the meeting room and knowing that your legs are mere inches from another makes you even more delusional. What if he did that on purpose?

After that, all concentration for your studies is far gone. It doesn't help at all that the iced coffee he made you was the best you had in ages and with every sip you keep wondering what Choi San isn't good at.

I just know he fucks good there's no other way, you think to yourself but get interrupted in your thoughts.

"Are you stuck on something?" San asks you and you almost don't even dare to raise your eyes to look at him. A kind of shame overcomes you as you realize what you have been thinking about while he worries about your studies.

You sigh to buy yourself time to find an answer that doesn't include: Yes, I'm stuck because I can't think of anything but your body on top of mine.

"Yeah, I just can't seem to concentrate well lately. Maybe I'm stressed out because of my finals."

It isn't fully a lie. Your finals are approaching steadily and with you thirsting over your tutor instead of studying you are indeed starting to worry.

"I would love to tell you that grades don't matter too much but I know your mother won't agree and I will probably face her anger too if you fail," he laughs at the end of his sentence to lighten the mood but quickly notices he only stressed you more by saying that.

"I'm sorry," he quickly retracts. It feels like the first time you caught him messing up his smooth way of talking which in return makes you smile.

"No, you're right. I just never thought about the fact that she will hate both of us if I mess up. What a way to relax."

"I shouldn't have said that," San again apologizes. "I'm sure you will do amazing though. After all you studied so much."

He finishes his sentence with a wink and you must stare at him for a second like an idiot. Did you just imagine that? Or is he alluding to something? Does Choi San know that you thirsted for him this entire fucking time?

But his further actions don't allow you to think much more.

"You look quite tense actually," he continues. "You know it's not good for your back to sit stiff like this for a prolonged amount of time. Your neck must be hurting?"

You have no idea what he is talking about. And your confusion only grows as San gets up from his chair heading in your direction. Every step he comes closer to you has your heart pumping erratically. Even though you dreamed about him being closer to you and finally paying you more attention you are now paralysed at the situation unfolding. Simply being close to him renders your entire body useless.

San steps behind you and, to your absolute shock and amazement, his hands gently grasp your shoulders.

"To compensate the stress from university I took a physiology course that taught us how to massage tense muscles."

As if to proof his words his thumbs gently start rubbing circles into your neck. The warmth of his fingers seeps through your thin shirt and fills your entire body. It feels like he set you on fire with this simple touch.

All of this cannot be real. This must be a figment of your imagination or you actually fell asleep on your study notes while dreaming about San. But his voice sounds very much real when he resumes:

"You have to relax, otherwise I'll hurt you." His voice drops lower than usual and as he gently drapes your hair over one shoulder to get it out of his way you can feel his breath fanning over your neck. Goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

But amid the fire burning in your veins and your clouded mind you actually manage to ease into his fingers and allow him to loosen up your muscles.

"That's a good girl," he rasps behind you and you know you tipped over the edge now. There is no going back from this. You feel like a doll in his hands. His words are electrifying, leaving you unable to utter a single word, to make a single sound. Your mind is running on a state of emergency. Nothing seems to get to you but the fact that San is touching you.

And oh is he good at it. His hands are pressing into all the right places relieving all the pent up tension you built ever since getting ready for this meeting today. If his fingers are already this good at massaging out your stress you can't help but think about what else they can do.

"How do you feel?" He asks. His voice is still low and his tone taunting, as if he knows exactly what he's doing to you.

"Better," you answer. Your voice is merely a whisper. You sound weak, even in your own ears, and wonder if he even heard you.

"Yeah? Then how is this?" With his question his thumbs dip beneath the collar of your shirt and massage your upper back a little lower.

You can't help but close your eyes. The low tone of his voice, his fingers on your skin and the playfulness of his words. All of this is so overwhelming you can only lean back and revel in his touch.

"It feels so good," you manage to breath out when you realize he asked you a question.

He bends down a little, his mouth now right next to your ear. "Should I make you feel even better?"

He is quite literally the devil on your shoulder. Everything in your body screams for you to say yes immediately. The unspoken promise has your entire body on fire and you almost give in to your desire. But a tiny speck of reasonable thinking pulls you back into the dangerous territories you are moving in right now.

"What do you mean?" you ask carefully. You know that this is everything you wanted for the past few weeks but still you can't help being confused about his sudden change.

His left hand wanders from your back to your chin, tilting it to the side so you can look at him. The look in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine. His pupils are dilated and he is looking at you like he is preying on you. The intensity is something you have never seen in him before.

"You are far too smart to be asking that question, darling," he replies smugly.

"But you were never interested in me?" You ask back and want to hit yourself on the spot. Why are you even asking questions when the man you've desired for weeks finally seems to be making a move on you? But after all he is acting very out of character.

San chuckles, never taking his eyes off of you. "You're so cute. All these weeks that you've been wanting me and now you ask what I'm doing?"

Your mouth opens in shock. So he did in fact know all this time that you were interested in him.

"Don't act all surprised now, darling. You really thought I didn't see the way you looked at me ever since we first met? How your eyes keep focusing on my arms in my tight shirts. How you steal glances at me when you think I'm not looking? I wanted to see how long I could leave you thirsting like this before you would break."

His confession has you gasping as you realize you weren't even faintly as indiscreet as you thought you were. Instead San was playing with you the entire time. Watching your every move.

"Desperation looks so cute on you," he adds with another devilish smile. His fingers continue drawing circles into your back as his burning eyes keep you fixed in your spot. You feel bewitched by his entire presence, like he has cast a spell on you.

"I made all this effort to get you into my apartment so we both don't have to risk our lives by having me ruin you on the meeting table and still you didn't even have a clue. I'm almost disappointed if you weren't so cute when you are surprised like this." A satisfied grin plays around his plump lips, as if he revelling in the taste of this sweet opportunity in his hands. "Now be a good girl for me and finally do what you've been wanting to do for weeks. Tell me you want me."

You haven't taken a single breath since he started talking and as a result your head feels dizzy. It takes a short moment before you can finally form the words that your head is screaming at you.

"Please," you whisper pathetically.

"Please what, darling?" San revels in the way you can barely speak.

"Please ruin me."

You can basically see the fire behind his eyes ignite as you speak those three words. His hand wanders to your cheek, grabbing it firmly. He takes his sweet time to let his thumb run over your bottom lip, eyes trailing after his own movement.

"With pleasure."

Finally, his lips press onto yours in a desperate kiss. They feel just as soft as they always looked to you, but he kisses you with a roughness that is almost contradictory. The combination is intoxicating. As you reciprocate the kiss, heat runs through your limbs in shockwaves.

Suddenly impatient, San interrupts the kiss to pull you up and out of the chair by your arms. Grabbing your waist he manhandles you onto the dinner table instead, lifting you onto the ledge as if it was nothing.

Your hands bury in his hair as both your lips meet again in a rushed embrace. In return, San wedges one of his legs between yours and spreads your knees so he can stand between them. The way he handles you makes heat pool in your core. San has a determination to his every move that makes you want to do whatever he could want from you.

One of his hands still tightly grasping your waist, the other winds in your hair as he deepens the kiss. When his tongue enters your mouth you arch your back wanting to diminish every centimetre between you two. Your head is dizzy, completely overwhelmed by his every touch.

San's firm hands are restless on your heated body. His fingers quickly find a way to shift under your shirt and his thumb draws circles into the bare skin of your stomach. Choi San feels like a drug. His touch just as intoxicating as you always dreamed it to be.

He removes his mouth from your lips only to latch onto the fragile skin behind your ears, kissing his way around your neck. You let your head fall back to give him better access and when he starts sucking on your skin you relieve a small whimper.

You can feel San smirking into your skin as he sucks even more. It's like he has found your weakness and is now shamelessly using it to make you melt beneath his fingers. And it's working so well. Your hands lose grip on his hair as you lose your ability to focus on anything but San's lips on your neck.

"Don't tap out on me already, darling. I'm only getting started," he rasps into your ear in between kisses. You draw in a shaky breath at his words. Your legs feel like jelly even as your sitting down and you just know you won't be able to walk after San is finished with you.

He finally withdraws his lips and for a second just revels in your already dishevelled form: hair messy, red flush to your cheeks and lips glossy from kissing him.

"I'd love to have you on my dinner table but let's take this somewhere more comfortable for now," he says in a soft voice.

Hooking his hands under your thighs he picks you up from the table, carrying you towards his bedroom. Woken up from your trance by the change of motion you suddenly gain back some of your bite. While San is busied with carrying you, your fingers rush to the collar of his dress shirt. Oh how often you have dreamed of popping open those buttons one by one. And finally you have the pleasure to do so. A soft chuckle makes his chest move in front of you as San looks down on your actions.

"You couldn't wait, could you?"

"Why would I?" you reply cheekily as your hand smooths over his now exposed skin. He feels so soft and hot under your fingertips that you don't think you'll ever be able to detach.

San throws open his bedroom door with his shoulder and before you have a chance to take in the room you are thrown onto the plush bed. He follows behind immediately, hovering over you with both hands propped up next to your head. He lets his eyes run over your figure lazily, up and down.

"Don't even know where to start with you," he mumbles half to himself and half to you as he watches your chest rise and fall in heavy breaths. He decides to put on a show, sitting back on his heels and slowly continuing your work in unbuttoning his shirt.

Apart from his skin being exposed the simple act of opening some buttons shouldn't drive you as crazy as it does right now. It's simply the sexiest thing you have ever seen in your life. The way his hooded eyes stay on yours the entire time while one button after another falls open under his practiced movements.

You are moving on autopilot when you also sit up to take off your own shirt. You simply can't delay this any further. As your shirt lands somewhere beside the bed, San lets out a small groan, surprising you. He stopped in the middle of folding down his sleeves.

"How did you know that purple was my favourite colour?" He asks in a raspy voice. His eyes are raking over your deep purple bra with a desire in them that lets shivers run over your skin.

You can't imagine a better way to find out his favourite colour. You only chose it because it accentuates your skin tone but now it feels like fate to you. Finally, you are getting to the edges of Choi San. Getting to know him on a level that you were craving like the air you needed to breath.

"Good intuition," you reply. Your confidence surges under his heavy glances. Maybe a little too much. "Need help with that?" you ask him teasingly with a nod towards his shirt, which hangs open around his toned torso.

As soon as you speak those words you are getting pinned back to the bed, San's hand suddenly wrapped around your neck. He isn't putting any pressure on it yet but you can feel his strength pulsating around your neck. His broad shoulders are taking up most of your vision and with the way he glares at you you just know that you are soaked.

"Don't get too bold with me, darling," he says in a warning tone. "I'm the one in charge."

You look up at him through big, round eyes, lashes fluttering because you have a feeling that it will push just the right buttons in him.

"Go ahead then," you reply firmly. "Do whatever you want to me."

San sits up again and roughly tugs on his sleeves, finally discarding his shirt fully. Then his lips are on yours again in a heartbeat.

You greedily let your hands wander over his now fully exposed upper body. The muscles playing under his skin feel so good as he buries his hands in your hair. His biceps is so big that your fingers can barely wrap around it halfway. You can't get enough of touching his body which so far you only admired in fitted dressing shirts.

San kisses his way down from your lips again but this time he doesn't stop at your neck. Continuing down your chest he kisses the tender skin between your breasts. When he takes both hands to squish your breasts together, burying his face in between, you lose your last bit of composure.

"Please, San. Please just fuck me."

He lifts his head to smile at you devilishly. The fire behind his eyes seems so bright that you're scared it will never burn down again.

"Already begging for me? You're still half dressed and I'm only starting. Have a little patience."

As he finishes his words, his hand snakes behind your back to open your bra in a swift motion. He peels the straps off of you with a new found patience that makes you feel like you are suffocating.

When the piece of clothing lands on the floor, San's eyes are glued to your chest. Slowly, he lowers himself down again, gently taking on of your nipples into his mouth. As soon as his tongue starts lapping at you a string of moans escape you. He just feels so good.

Without ever losing focus on kissing and nipping on your chest, one of his hands wanders to your skirt. He finds the zipper so easily it feels like he has studied undressing you. He pushes it down your legs quickly, leaving you only in your underwear.

As his hand starts stroking your inner thighs, your eyes roll to the back of your head. He feels like a dream.

"Please San. Please touch me," the words leave your mouth in whispers. Silent pleas for him to finally give you what you want.

"Is my darling so stressed from studying that she needs her mind taken off of things?" His fingers trail over your clothed heat as he asks you in a sickly sweet voice. His eyes are focussed on your face, taking in how you crumble beneath his touch.

"Yes. Yes, please," you whimper desperately. Every touch feels like electricity on your skin.

"Want me to stuff you full so you can forget everything you've studied for for weeks?" He pushes your panties to the side, his fingers toying at your entrance.

"Please San..." you repeat yourself weakly. Finally he gives into your pleading and sinks two of his fingers into you. You are so wet that they glide in with ease. You suck in a harsh breath as he begins pumping them in and out of you.

"God you feel so good. Can't wait to fuck you, my darling. Bury my cock so deep into you you forget your own name."

His words make you shake beneath him. You had a lot of suspicions about San in the bedroom due to your extensive daydreaming about him. But never did you expect him to be so vocal and downright dirty with his words. It catches you off-guard and only heightens your pleasure.

San scoots up on the bed a little so his face is hovering over yours again, while he slips a third finger into your heat. "How do I feel?" he asks with a raspy tone to his voice.

"You feel so fucking good, San," you moan in answer. His fingers stretch you out so deliciously and he reaches this spot deep inside you that makes you arch your back with every thrust.

"Yeah, you wanna come on my fingers?" he rasps into your ear now, lips again attaching to your neck, sucking deep marks into your skin.

"Please, San." You feel like a broken record that's repeating the same thing over and over. You grow closer and closer to an orgasm with every motion of his fingers inside you. But San has other plans for you. And when he feels you desperately clenching around his fingers, he pulls them out of you.

"I'm sorry darling," he says immediately, even though his face doesn't display any regret. "But you look so pretty when you're desperate. And I want you to come on my cock when I make you fall apart for the first time."

You feel like crying. You want nothing more but to come and yet him taking it from you only makes you want him more. You would do anything for Choi San.

He stands up from the bed and opens his belt. But before he can take of his pants, he orders you over with a motion of his finger. You sit on your knees at the edge of the bed in seconds, looking up at him expectantly.

He doesn't say a word and only gestures for his painfully strained pants. You don't need any more hints to start opening his pants and pulling them down his legs desperately. You hook your fingers into his boxers too but look up at him once more before continuing. When he nods at you you finally pull them down as well.

You can't help but stare at San's length. He's big, just like you had always imagined and he was rock-hard. When San takes himself into his hand and gives himself a few strokes you open your mouth on your own, sticking out your tongue in anticipation of tasting him.

San starts gently. His other hand weaves into your hair and he pulls you onto his length slowly. You are able to take a good amount of him before his tip hits the back of your throat and you release a surprised moan. San closes his eyes momentarily as he relishes in the feeling of your hot mouth around him.

"Shit, you feel so good," he rasps out before he starts thrusting in and out of your mouth. Your hands seek hold on his muscular thighs and you look up at San through big and pleading eyes. Even though he isn't pleasuring you, this almost feels as good as having him bury his fingers inside you. All you ever dreamed about was him using you just like this and the feeling of it happening is so intoxicating you feel like you might pass out any second.

"Look at you enjoying my cock so damn much, that your eyes are losing focus," San chuckles. He looks down at you in disbelief as you mindlessly swirl your tongue around his cock. "You love being ruined by me, don't you?"

You can only manage a desperate nod and approving grunt as you continue sucking him of. No man has ever made you this desperate. As you look at him from beneath you feel like you have accomplished everything you ever wanted: his hair was dishevelled, his breaths uneven and a red tint painted his cheeks. All in all, Choi San lost his perfectly maintained appearance as you sucked on his cock and to you he looked 100 times prettier this way.

When his thrusts go sloppy, he pulls out of your mouth in a haste before he can come. "You're driving me crazy, darling," he grunts as he catches his breath for a second. In a more gentle tone he resumes: "Lay back on the bed for me, ok?"

You do as he says, laying down on your back in the middle of the bed, your body buzzing with the anticipation of what is to come. San goes to his dresser, opening a drawer to get a condom.

When he climbs over you he looks at you intensely. But at the same time his eyes hold a softness that makes you feel secure.

"Are you sure about going on, y/n?" he asks warmly. No petnames this time. He wants a clear answer.

"Never been so sure in my life," you reply with a smile and his lips mirror yours as he beams down at you.

Quickly he sits up to open the condom and roll it onto his member. Opening your legs with his knee he situates himself between you and positions his cock at your entrance. One hand on your hip and the other holding his cock, he slowly sinks himself into you while carefully observing your face.

Your eyes flutter when he is fully inside of you and you moan at the feeling. San releases a grunt as well and waits a few seconds deep inside of you.

"Fuck, you're so tight for me, my darling. Don't worry I won't stop this time until you come." And with that he starts thrusting into you. He begins with slow and deep thrusts but as soon as you get used to his size he speeds up rapidly.

His abs are flexing underneath is skin as he grabs onto your hip and pistons himself into you. With every thrust you can feel him hit this spongy part deep inside of you that makes heat build in your core with a throbbing intensity. Meanwhile you revel in the sight above you: San looks like a god. His muscular body moving above you is almost enough to push you over the edge but what's even more entrancing is his face. His expressions seem almost possessed. Like a demon took over him as soon as he started fucking you, he fixes his eyes onto yours.

"Am I fucking you good? Making you forget all your precious studies?" There they are again. His filthy words driving you down a one-way-road to insanity. "I hope you forget everything so you have to see me even more, darling. Then I can keep on fucking this tight little cunt over and over again."

"Fuck, San!" you moan out, being shocked by his words. His control over you is baffling and you can't help but grow closer and closer to your orgasm with every word.

"I know you like me like that, darling. Do me a favour and come on my cock so I can finally see you lose yourself will you?"

You can't form an answer. Endless moans tumble out of your mouth in increasing volume and San knows he has you exactly where he wants.

"Come for me."

Your orgasm hits you with an explosive intensity. Faintly, you notice yourself moan at a concerning volume as your high washes over your body. But San doesn't seem to mind. Your legs are shaking and he helps you ride out the feeling with slower strokes. He waits for your breath to slow down again before he leans down to you and places a gentle kiss onto your lips.

"I want you on your knees in front of me," he says sweetly as soon as your lips separate and your head is spinning. Still you manage to get up with the help of his arm beneath your waist and you let yourself be positioned in front of San, your back to him.

Since you didn't have the opportunity to examine his bedroom earlier you only now notice the big mirror on his wardrobe next to his bed. Looking ahead, you can now see yourself on your knees, sitting in front of San.

You look even more dishevelled than you feel: Your hair is all over the place and some of your eyeliner smudged and a handful of dark purple marks littering your neck. Also, a red tint covers your skin, making you look flushed. San behind you smirks as you examine your own figure.

"You look so pretty all messed up like this for me, don't you think?"

His arm wraps around your waist as he leans your body back onto his broad chest. You look tiny in front of his build.

"I'll make you look even prettier," he promises as he sinks himself back into you.

He picks up his intense pace from before and you already feel dizzy again. With his arm holding you tight he is basically lifting you up and down his cock. At this angle he is hitting you deeper than before and you are sure you won't last very long until your next high.

But nothing could've prepared you for the feeling of San winding his other arm around you too, his fingers gently starting to stroke your clit. Your head falls back onto San's shoulder as you give in to the mind-numbing pleasure that starts buzzing through your body.

"Keep your eyes on me, darling. I want to watch you fall apart."

His voice sounds sulky, almost cute. It doesn't match his relentless thrusts and his fingers pleasuring you. It takes all your strength to lift your head again and look at San through the mirror. His eyes are hooded now, a shin layer of sweat making his flawless skin shine in the evening light.

"You make me feel so good," you manage to say as San keeps on pounding into you. You want him to know how he makes you feel. How good he is being to you.

"Am I?" He smiles in satisfaction as he watches your brows draw together with a particularly deep thrust. "You too, darling. You feel so good around me I don't think I can last much longer. But you'll come one more time for me, right?"

His voice sounds so deep and sultry in your ears. "Of course, Sannie," you mumble absent-mindedly. You don't even notice the nickname until he chuckles behind you.

"How can you be so cute and so sexy at the same time? You'll be the death of me, my good little girl."

He places a kiss onto your cheek and that is what finally drives you over the edge.

"Fuck, San. I'm coming," you moan out before your high crashes over you. If he wasn't holding you, you would fall to the ground. You try to hold eye contact with San through the reflection but your eyes keep on shutting as waves of pleasure roll over you. You have never felt such an intensity before.

But San's thrust don't slow down this time. He keeps on rutting into you relentlessly, driving you to insanity. You feel like you're swimming in a pool of pleasure.

"I'm close, darling. Just a little longer," San's voice is pitched higher than before, sounding just as desperate as you feel. You want nothing more but for him to come.

"Please, Sannie. I want you to come so bad."

Your desperate pleas are San's final straw. Clutching your body tight to his own, he finishes with his cock buried deep inside you. You can feel him pulsating in your heat and your moans mix into his grunts as you milk him for every last drop of his cum.

As you both slowly recover San pulls out of you and gently lays you back onto the bed. You can't do anything but catch your breath while he gets up to rid himself of the condom and return to you with a glass of water.

"Drink something," he urges you on and you take the glass from him. He watches you with a tinge of worry in his eyes. After taking a few sips you offer the glass back to him.

"You should drink some too, I'm sure you worked your body more than I did."

He smiles at your words and takes some water too before returning the glass to his bedside table. When he looks back at you there is a heaviness to his gaze that worries you.

"What is it?" you ask.

San takes a deep breath before answering you. "No matter what I said to you before, I actually didn't expect us to tumble into this as quickly as we did right now. And I want you to know that I didn't do this to use you or take any advantage of you."

His hand nervously grabs for the back of his neck. "Actually, I've been interested in you ever since we first met but I fear the tension between us was quicker than both of us."

You try to process his words even in your hazy state of mind. A spark of excitement surges through your body as you realize what he is saying.

"I feel the same, San," you reply truthfully. "I like you. And not just because you're insanely handsome."

You are glad when he laughs shyly at your words.

"So maybe I can take you out on a date that doesn't involve work or pharmacy studies sometime?"

"I hope sometime means this week, because I waited long enough for you already."

After everything that happened this evening, this moment when he smiles at you might be what makes your heart beat the fastest. You can't believe your luck as you look Choi San into the eyes and he leans in for a kiss.

-----------------

"This was a stupid idea," you say to San but maybe more to yourself. "I should tell her alone."

"How will she ever respect me again if I let you do this alone?" San replies worriedly. "She told me to tutor you and now here we are. I will look terrible either way."

You have never seen him this nervous. But after all, your mother has the ability to make everybody scared for their life. You two pass her assistant's desk with a polite greeting as you head straight for your mother's office. She knows you are coming but she doesn't know you're bringing company.

You knock carefully on the door until her voice calls you in. Your mother stays seated as you two enter the room. She doesn't look surprised or confused about San's appearance but rather intrigued.

"Why are you visiting me today, y/n?" she asks simply.

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you prepare for answering.

"I have something to announce to you," you start off as confident as you can.

Your mother's eyes flick between you and San. "Go on."

"San- ... Mr. Choi and I, we are..." your voice is shaking. Why is this so hard for you?

But San grabs for your hand, linking his fingers with yours as he confidently finishes your sentence: "We are in a relationship, director Kim."

His boldness strikes you as admiring. Maybe he was right about accompanying you.

A silence that draws out unbearably long fills the room. You feel like your lungs are being compressed with every passing second.

Then your mother smiles. It's not exactly a smile of happiness. It speaks more of victory.

"Finally," she announced. "It took you two longer than I expected."

Now it's your turn to be silent. Both you and San are stunned in your places.

Finally you find your voice to ask: "What do you mean, mom?"

She smiles at you in satisfaction.

"You see: Mr. Choi is a good man. He's a gentleman, treats his colleagues with the utmost respect, excels at his job and is handsome too. How could I find a better match for my beloved daughter? But I know you wouldn't be interested if I were to formerly introduce you two so I thought I'd help you in a different way."

Your mouth falls open in shock. Out of all things, your mother purposefully setting you up with San has never even crossed your mind. Your boyfriend seems even more shocked at the revelation than you, his face reddened and a stunned expression on his face.

"So you set us two up?" You finally ask your mother.

"Of course I did! And it worked out brilliantly, don't you think? I'm glad you both came to tell me. Mr. Choi?"

San perks up at her words. "Yes?"

"I assume you will take good care of my daughter?"

"Of course I will," he replies sternly, voice full of sincerity. "I will do everything care for y/n." His words make you feel warm and fuzzy.

Your mother nods approvingly. "Then you two may leave. I still have work to do."

You both nod hastily and thank your mother before turning back for the door.

"Oh, before I forget. Y/n?" your mother asks one last time.

"Yes?"

"I received your test results that you sent me. They look very promising."

I hope you enjoyed <3 Pls reblog and leave feedback if you can :)

Tags: @voicesinmyhead-rc

#ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #beginningofwonderland #smut fanfic #ateez fanfiction #san smut #san x y/n #san x reader #san fanfic #san x you

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stevesgother · 2 months ago

Text

Dress - S.H

Paring - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 1.5k

Summary - 2 times Steve Harrington has lost his mind seeing you in a dress that fits you like skin, and the one time he does something about it.

Contains - best friends to lovers, mutual pining, reader is pathetically in love, loosely based off of ‘Dress’ by Taylor Swift. Or maybe heavily based lol

Warnings - steve & reader ARE 18 in this, they just haven’t graduated yet, drinking, vomit. As always, let me know if I missed anything

AN - THIS IS PART 1 OF A WIP. second fic…ever! also my first mini series! i was gonna make it all one fic but i figured it would be easier to digest this way. enjoy :)

Senior Prom - May 1985

Michael Cooper. That’s who was waiting for you downstairs in your foyer, sweet talking your parents while he waited to escort you to your final high school dance. He wasn’t your first choice for your senior prom, hardly even your second; but he was respectable enough for you to be seen on his arm for one night.

Taking one last look at yourself in your vanity mirror, you smoothed your hands down the front of your dress. It was a beautiful baby pink ball gown with lace trim and puffy sleeves. Before you can think better of it, before you can feel guilty for it, you imagine Steve’s reaction when he sees you tonight.

Steve Harrington. Your best friend since diapers. Your mothers grew up together, so naturally when they found out they were pregnant at nearly the exact same time, it only made sense that they would orchestrate your friendship immediately.

As it turns out, not much orchestrating would be required. The second your little baby brains could comprehend what it meant to love another person, the rest was history. Wherever you went, Steve went too. You’re not sure when your feelings for him started to change. The usual calm that washed over you whenever you were in his presence one day seemed to transform into something different. You felt nervous, like someone had released a net of butterflies into your stomach.

You clear your head with a harsh shake and grab your clutch off the bed, making your way downstairs. Michael is waiting for you with a green corsage in a shiny translucent box. ‘That's Sweet,’ you think, “if only it matched my dress.’

–

Upon arriving at the gym, the first thing you do, consciously or not, is scan the room for your best friend. You spot him quickly, his perfectly manicured hair and well-pressed suit making him hard to miss. Even harder to miss is the gorgeous, curly haired brunette resting her head on his shoulder.

Nancy Wheeler.

They’ve been together for over a year at this point, even joining your close knit circle of friends. Despite this, you can’t help the nagging sense of jealousy stabbing at your chest, making your face heat up. You tell yourself it’s the humidity inside the gymnasium, and not the fact that you’d give anything to be in her position. You quickly abandon your date and try not to feel guilty for it, making your way over to the happy couple.

“Steve!” You call as you come further into their line of sight.

“Hey you!” Steve stands and gives you a tight hug. “Hey!’ you greet, returning the embrace. He can’t help the way his eyes quickly travel down the expanse of you, noticing the shape this dress gives your body. He prays to any listening God that his girlfriend didn’t notice, that you didn’t notice. “Hey Nance.” You address her with a polite smile. She gives you a hug without warning. Another thing that irks you about Nancy Wheeler: that girl is impossible to hate. You have every reason to despise her, and yet you can’t. She’s kind, funny, strong-willed and beautiful. She’s so ‘girl next door’, she’s so…not you. Occasionally you’ve wondered if it’s a front, that she can’t possibly be that perfect.

“Where’s Michael?” She asks inquisitively; like she genuinely cares where your douchebag date has run off to. A quick scan of the room reveals he’s already talking up another girl by the photobooth. There’s not one part of you that gives a shit. “We were just thinking about grabbing some food, wanna come with?” Steve nods his head toward the various appetizers they have set up on tables decorated with gaudy tinsel and tablecloths. “Yeah, why not?”, you smile and it doesn’t reach your eyes.

–

An hour and 2 cups of spiked punch later, ‘Heaven’ by Bryan Adams starts to play and you feel like you might hurl. Nancy’s face quickly lights up and she gives her date a knowing look, “Steve! Let's dance! Please??”. She’s immediately pulling him away from the table where you’ve been watching them flirt all night. Her delicate hand resting on his bicep, his large one finding a home on her thigh. He sends you a sympathetic look as he rises; sorry that he has to leave you there, sorry that you won’t be slow dancing with anyone tonight. He has no idea.

Your date is long gone. The two of you going together was a ticket inside and nothing more.

The air in the gym is suffocating and frankly smells of sweaty basketball shorts, so you decide to make your way outside for some fresh air. The romantic serenade of Bryan Adams’ voice is nothing more than a quiet lullaby as you lean against the brick wall of your high school.

You hear him before you see him. “Hey stranger,” the open door momentarily lets the humidity escape and you feel it wash over your skin. “you alright?” he asks with a half smile.

“Yeah just,” you say looking around, “getting some air is all,” returning the expression. He imitates you and decides to lean on the wall, a little too close for comfort. You’re all but slapped across the face with his scent. Cinnamon, a no doubt expensive musky cologne, and sweat. You can feel him looking at you, so you decide to meet his gaze; praying that he can’t see the crimson shade of red creeping up your neck and cheeks simply from standing next to him. You feel so pathetic at times like these.

“Nance found a couple of her girlfriends, figured it’d be a good time for a smoke.” He pulls a cigarette out of his suit jacket pocket, and lights it. His hand cupped to cover the breeze.

“Those’ll kill ya, you know?” you smirk, knowing. You’ve always teased him for his bad habits, especially this one. “Yeah well,” he says in an inhale, “now’s as good a’ time as any, right?”

He grins at you, smug. It sends you reeling and you hope your thundering heartbeat doesn’t give you away. Maybe it’s just the alcohol.

After a few minutes of silence, he stomps his cigarette out on the pavement and turns to fully face you.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

His words steal the breath from your lungs and your breath hitches in your throat. Steve’s complimented you before, thousands of times. So why does this feel like you’ve just been slammed into a wall of concrete?

“Steve…”

You feel like he’s getting closer. You’ve definitely had too much to drink.

Before you can stop yourself or even comprehend what’s happening, you vomit all the contents of your stomach directly onto Steve’s perfectly polished loafers. He yelps, most in surprise, slightly in horror. Despite that undeniable foulness of the situation, his hands immediately move to hold your hair back, just in case you aren’t, well, finished.

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started crying. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. You’re okay,” he soothes, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Let’s get you home, yeah?” He starts to lead you to his car in the parking lot, leaving you here alone not an option for him. “What about Nancy?” you sob, “I’ll come back and get her, honey. Don’t worry.” Honey. You almost puke again.

Once he settles you into the passenger seat of his pristine BMW, you watch as he toes off his shoes and throws them in the garbage. When he slides into the driver's seat and turns on the ignition, he turns and brings a palm up to cradle your jaw. “Guess I’m gonna have to keep an eye on ya next time,” he chuckles, “can’t handle your mildly spiked punch.” You groan, but give a breathy chuckle of your own, “Just drive, Harrington.”

When you arrive home, you breathe a sigh of relief at the lack of your family car in the driveway. Your mother would certainly pitch a fit if she saw you like this - mascara streaked down your face, an obnoxious yellow stain down the front of your once flawless dress. Steve leads you upstairs with a hand on the small of your back, and a palm cradling your elbow. You know you’re not drunk, and you’re almost positive that wasn’t the reason you spilled your guts. But the alternative to just letting Steve take care of you would be admitting that you love him, that you’re in love with him.

You don’t bother taking your makeup off, Steve just helps you change into an old t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. “Lights on or off?” He asks as he pulls the covers up and over you, “Off, please.” he gives you a little two-finger salute, “you got it.” Just as he’s reaching underneath your lamp shade you whisper, “Steve?” he looks, “yeah trouble?” “I’m sorry for ruining your night…and throwing up on your shoes.” you give a sheepish look. Even though he would have every right to be, you know he’s not mad at you.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head,”the shoes we can discuss at a later date,” he shoots you a wink, making sure you know he’s only teasing.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Without another word he closes the bedroom door, bathing you in darkness. Just before you succumb to sleep, you’re filled with dread at the thought that you’re gonna remember this in the morning.

Cheers to senior year.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #friends to lovers #mini series #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington series #i really hope this is good

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pricegouge · 4 months ago

Text

Haul

Part One MDNI

Master list | on ao3

slasher!trucker!141 x reader

series cw: dark fic. major character deaths, rape/noncon

chapter cw: alcohol/drugs mentioned, though reader doesn't partake. up to you if that's for sobriety purposes or not, though most of this chapter takes place in a bar. public nudity. brief, non descriptive mention of animal harm. Let me know if I missed anything!

Like most terrible things in your life, it starts off with a dare. You're on the I-40 somewhere around Seligmen when Ash's fingers drum on the steering wheel of her busted old beater and you know she's got an evil little scheme brewing by the erratic, staccato beat. She turns to you and grins, hair whipping about her in the wind tunnel created by the open windows. "I dare you," she drawls in the same conversational tone she'd used a few states back to initiate a game of I Spy, back when there were colors other than tan and brown, and the occasional smudge of green shrubbery, to spy. "To flash this trucker when we pass him."

Like most terrible things in your life, it starts off with a dare.

You're on the I-40 somewhere around Seligmen when Ash's fingers drum on the steering wheel of her busted old beater and you know she's got an evil little scheme brewing by the erratic, staccato beat. She turns to you and grins, hair whipping about her in the wind tunnel created by the open windows. "I dare you," she drawls in the same conversational tone she'd used a few states back to initiate a game of I Spy, back when there were colors other than tan and brown, and the occasional smudge of green shrubbery, to spy. "To flash this trucker when we pass him."

Bored off your ass after days in the car with not much to do other than reconnect with your old friend and listen to the same band over and over (Ash was… over excited to be on the way to see them), you briefly consider it before taking in the tacky mud flaps - sexy lady silhouette that's been a staple of trashy truckers since before you were born, here X-rayed so you could see her sexy little skeleton as well.

"No way," you scoff.

"Oh, c'mon," she nods at the same decals you'd already noticed. "Bet he'd enjoy the show."

"Yeah, bet he'd enjoy turning me into a skeleton, too."

"Well, he'd have to catch you first, and I'm an excellent, speedy little driver."

She was, that being the only reason you'd agreed to her hairbrained idea to drive half across the US. When she'd asked if you'd wanted to join her in seeing your favorite band from high school play their farewell tour out in California, you'd envisioned long nights, heart to hearts, deep conversation under starry desert skies, and a great pay off at the end in the form of one last, cathartic hurrah before a quiet, tired drive home. But you hadn't calculated on Ash still being in her party girl phase.

Perhaps you should have known. One of the main reasons you'd fallen off with her post-graduation was because the crowd she'd been migrating towards was only escalating. You were by no means a square, but between landing a nine-to-five and having bills to pay, your rough edges had slowly been whittling away over the years while, it seemed, Ash had remained the exact same Ash she'd always been. You didn't begrudge her that, but neither did you relish pit stops at dive bars every night, nor juvenile dares in broad daylight. Mind, when you were supposed to be sleeping because you'd driven all night after a stop in west Texas had left Ash incapacitated no less.

Still, the boredom of not having much to talk about with your only companion, and the monotony of the same albums you've been listening to since middle school being played over and over was wearing on you, and despite your exhaustion, a sense of restlessness had crept in somewhere around Flagstaff and wasn't leaving you be.

"Fine, but you're buying me a drink tonight."

"Are you drinking!?" she hoots, somewhere between excited you're no longer being 'a stick in the mud,' and apprehensive that she wouldn't have a driver lined up at closing time.

"No, but when I inevitably offer to buy someone else one, you're covering it."

Ash scoffs loudly enough to be heard over both the music and the wind, an impressive feat. "Deal, but once he gets a load of them titties, I'm fairly sure Mr. Kenworth here is gonna be dominating your time tonight."

"That's why you're driving quick enough he can't catch us, remember?" you laugh, already reaching up under your shirt to remove your bra.

The car accelerates, the long black trailer stretching past your passenger window as Ash pulls up alongside it. She whoops happily when you unbuckle your belt, blaring the music and hollering along to get your nerves up. There's a pit in your belly, the kind that forms right at the top of a rollercoaster. Your nerves alight, as if in preparation for a fight, skin drawing tight and pebbling into goosebumps. You spare a thought for how hard your nipples are gonna be and laugh perhaps a bit maniacally. Ash turns your nerves to excitement with a rousing set of slaps to your thick thighs. You take a deep breath, release it with a high, distressed whine. Still, you get a leg under you and contort yourself half out the port, Ash's excited shrieking following you out, though soon ripped away by the rushing of the wind around you. Your shirt whips up. Instinctively, you try to shove it down and then nearly roll your eyes at yourself when you realize what you're about to do. The white nose of the truck looms closer, side view mirror reflecting nothing back at you but a darkened cab. It strikes you as odd, what with the sun beating down on you both, hot and undisturbed by cloud nor foliage. It's blazing on your skin despite the wind, scent of the baked tarmac below heavy in your sinuses. Sand pecks against your flesh, abrasive. You hope a big beetle doesn't come smashing into your teeth before all this is done.

You don't have much time to think about it. Ash swats you on your ass and you pull your shirt up, screaming all the while as the tension in your body boils over like a tea kettle. Eyes squeezed shut, you don't notice at first how the truck carries on straight as an arrow. Unaffected. You expect an air horn or something, get none. When you peek, the tint of the truck's window glares apathetically back at you, a dark shroud through which you have no ability to gauge the driver's reaction.

It's Ash who honks first, the tired sounding beeps jolting you back to reality. You feel let down, disappointed. Self-conscious, stupidly. You shrink back on yourself a bit, shirt hiding the bottom half of your face as you slump back toward your seat. Your chest is still exposed, something you only register when - finally - the airhorn knocks you fully on your ass, hand scrambling to cover yourself in front of your friend.

Completely ignorant of your emotional turmoil, Ash slaps the steering wheel animatedly, cackling and whooping like she's driving a getaway car after a successful heist. The airhorn sounds again and you glance up at the blank window, embarrassment and shame creeping up your throat. You've no clue why it's worse that you can't see the driver; even less of an idea as to why you were kind of hoping for their approval. Especially considering you have it, you think, another short blast of the horn attesting to the driver's pleasure. You force a grin, give a stupid little wave that you instantly regret. You roll up the window despite Ash's old beater having no AC, desperate for some kind of space between you and the truck.

Brain skipping, trying to keep busy so you don't have to assess the weird pit of disappointment you'd felt, you reach into the footwell in search of your bra, but stop short when you see it dangling from a strap off Ash's finger. "Thanks," you mumble, and then glare daggers at her when she yanks it away quicker than you can grab. She's got that face on again, the mischief making one.

"Don't you dare," you hiss, but she just cackles and sends it flying out the open sunroof. "Ash!" you cry, twisting in your seat so see the lacy little number get caught up in the slipstream of the semi behind you, skirting up over the hood and plastering itself to the window where, quick as a flash, a thick, tattooed arm reaches out the driver's side window to slap the wiper down over it, snaring it against the glass.

The stone in your stomach hardens, sinks lower. Where before you'd felt oddly bereft without the driver's approval, this feels far too intimate, and you urge Ash quicker, turning back forward to watch the miles of open road pass, checking at each mile marker to see how the space between your car and his has grown. His grill glints chrome under the blaring sun, visible for miles. Combined with the tinted windshield, they turn the white cab into a skull, teeth bared and all.

***

The bar Ash chooses sits back from the road down a small slope, as if nestled by the dusty landscape - a hidden chest of glittering incandescent and neon bulbs, oil slick from the assembled nearby trucks painting what remains of the crumbling tarmac aurora. They line the lot on either side, backed up until their trailers overhang the paved lot itself, carving footprints into the hard earth. Between the two lines, the valley of the lot funnels you toward the boisterous building, music and laughter spilling out its seams.

You'd rolled up the windows when the sun set so you're not quite prepared for the chill that greets you as you step out of the car. Still braless, you check to be sure the dark material of your shirt covers your nipples, but hug your flannel closer to yourself anyway, making a slow turn as you assess the assembled cars. You've been to enough dive bars to know the real warning signs; the get-the-fuck-out-of-dodge-before-you-decide-to-tryand-fight-a-blooded-Nazi kind of signs. Thankfully you don't see much here beyond the standard watch-your-drink-and-don't-let-your-bare-ass-touch-the-toilet-seat kind of vibes so you resign yourself to a night of babysitting, coming around the nose of the car as you bring a cigarette to your lips.

Ash is giddy with excitement, dragging you along with her hands tucked through your elbow as she whispers excitedly about all the possibilities a dive bar off a forgotten county road in nowhere Arizona might offer. She'd said just a few drinks when she'd suggested going out again tonight, but you already know how that's going to shake out.

"Yeah? You gonna do some blow off the shuffleboard table by the end of the night?" You joke.

"And get sand in my nose? Please," Ash scoffs. "I'll do it off the sink like a normal person."

You grin, holding the door open for her. "Go ahead and find us a spot, I'm gonna do my dirty deed," you wag the cigarette at her illustratively.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't take too long or else all the lonely rednecks'll think I'm looking for company."

You don't remind her she doesn't need to be here if she doesn't want to be. "If you ask pretty they'll take you to the bathroom," you wink instead, flicking your nose. Ash just laughs as she steps through the door. You let it drop behind her, fishing your lighter from your pocket as you step toward the edge of the porch. There's a loud group on your left, smoking more than just tobacco by the smell of it. You don't mind, but neither do you want to partake, so you stay a good distance away, listening in as the loudest of the group tells an animated story about the time he hit a deer and it ran off with his headlight cover. He's not a great story teller, but the assembled group laughs loud enough to drown him out half the time so maybe your perception is skewed.

Beyond them, inside, you can hear the clatter of billiards, and the general din of loosened lips, but outside, it is a cool and still night. You've never been to this part of the country, and you can't help but reflect on how nice it is in these quiet moments without Ash's chatter, or her constant performative nature. It's not that you dislike her, but days of such close proximity after years of barely any contact had certainly been a decision, and you're really started to regret it. Still, it's good to travel, and it's been so long since you've bothered with a bar that you nearly forget how to react when a man sidles up beside you and asks for a light.

Stocky, handsome, you stammer over some words and extend your lighter, cursing when you realize you should have held the open flame out for him to light his cigarette over. He gives you a grin like he knows what you're thinking, and then exhales his smoke right into your face, destroying any attraction you'd felt for him before he'd even said a word.

You spare him a tight grin and hold your hand out for your lighter back. He holds it out, but gives it a playful little tug when you try to take it from him. "Alright," you gripe at the same moment he relinquishes his grasp, sending your hand dropping aggressively down with the slight force you'd been using. You nod while he just keeps grinning at you and snub out what remains of your cigarette. "Have a good one," you mumble, sliding past him and into the bar.

Ash perches at a small two-top, long neck dangling from her fingers prettily. You slide in across from her and she offers you the second bottle she'd snagged, though accepts easily enough when you shake your head. She's angled toward the room, that demure, but still inviting pose she'd perfected long ago on full display. As predicted, a string of men approach her, though she shoots them all down, giving you commentary on what she's thought of them all when she sends them packing.

"Too scrawny."

"Smelled like Funyuns."

"I've seen more hair in my shower drain."

You giggle, content to watch her pick on sleazy men all night. Unfortunately her tune changes when return from the restroom a while later to find her flirting with a tall, broad man in a gaiter. She notices you as you draw close and beams at you, waving you closer in a way that suggests 'check this one out'.

"Who's your friend?" you ask hesitantly, eyeing the big guy all over. He's dressed nice enough for a place like this, work boots and well-fitting jeans that hug his hammies sinfully. He's got on a canvas jacket over a tight thermal, some ink on his left hand you can't quite catch the shape of. The gaiter rubs you wrong, despite its innocuous dark material. Just this side of too sketchy in a place already bordering on it, you imagine there's no good reason a man would hide the bottom half of his face when he's presumably there to imbibe alcohol with his mouth all night.

"Simon," the man rumbles, voice dark and accented. He extends his right hand to you and you take it, fingers engulfed by his broad, rough palm. In his left he holds a brown bottle, label obscured by his wide grip.

"Simon, this is my friend, Betty," Ash introduces you before you even have a chance. You shoot her a look, obvious enough that even the newcomer catches it.

"Betty?" he asks, eyes darting between the two of you.

"Not my name," you assert, but Ash speaks over you.

"Because she's so delightfully pretty, but so devastatingly boring," she pouts at you. To Simon she says, "Go on, ask her if she wants a drink."

"Can I get you a -?"

"No."

"See? Boring."

You roll your eyes, but don't offer any sort of retaliation besides. You're used to this, and generally unbothered by it. That doesn't mean it's not a pleasant surprise when Simon comes to your defense. "Nothing wrong with being responsible." His eyes are heavy on you, trailing in a way you're not necessarily comfortable with. That doesn't stop you from thanking him.

"Responsible," Ash scoffs. "One beer is still totally legal to drive."

"Quit complaining. Just means you get to have all the fun," you remind her.

"Mm, true," Ash sings. She tilts her bottle against Simon's, but you can't help noticing he gets distracted before the bottle makes it to his lips.

"You guys from around here?"

"Is anyone from here?" you quip, eyeing the assembled lot. They match their trucks outside: heavy, built for long hauls and quick stops at watering holes.

"Suppose not," Simon admits, his own accent played up for effect. "Where you lot headed, then?"

"L.A.," Ash gushes.

When she doesn't elaborate, you tack on, "Ash's got a modeling gig."

"Really?" Ash smacks Simon playfully on the arm over his offended tone.

"No," she laughs, "seeing a show. You ever been to L.A.?"

"Been everywhere," Simon shrugs, cryptic.

"You a trucker too, I take it?"

"Don't I look like one?" His accent thickens with every word until even your unlearned ear believes you could pinpoint his exact birthplace - distinctly un-American.

"You ever consider a mullet?" Ash giggles.

Simon looks about to snark something back when the lighter-less man from outside stumbles into his space.

"Hi," he tells the group in general, eyes unfocused before they slide to you. "Wanted to apologize. Think we got off on the wrong foot out there."

You can practically feel Ash brimming with excitement, the fact that both of you are now talking to men not going unnoticed by either of you. Not wanting to find yourself in some cheap motel Fargo sex with her, you make your lack of attraction obvious immediately, voice stern. "All good, man."

"Right," he balks. "Can I buy you a drink to make up for it?"

"Nope."

"Oh. Uh… you driving tonight or something?"

"Just not thirsty."

Across from you, Ash mouths the word 'Betty' at a stone faced Simon.

"Then why are you in a bar?" Lighter-less demands, belligerent.

"Good question," you turn on Ash, but before she can answer, Simon speaks up.

"Piss off, mate."

"Fuck you," the guy snaps, turning to face the other man. You realize he must not have gotten a good look at him before approaching the group because you see his eyes go wide when he takes in Simon's sheer size.

"Nah, fuck you actually. Piss off."

He doesn't need telling a third time. Lighter-less gives you and Ash a nod and scurries off while Ash rounds on you.

"And what was wrong with him?"

"Fuckin' rude."

"Are we ever gonna get you laid?"

You've only been on the road with her for two days and have not been actively looking, but you don't bother telling her that. "Only when you finally give in, baby," you croon instead and Ash snorts, already moving on.

"Simon, you any good at darts?"

"No."

"Great! Go bully us into a board using that broad frame of yours and let me win, would ya?"

Something dark passes over Simon's eyes, so quickly you think you might have imagined it when he immediately changes gears, giving Ash a brief nod before skulking away.

"Isn't he fuckin' cute?" Ash hisses at you after he's gone.

"Wouldn't know," you deadpan, covering the bottom half of your face with your hand.

She swats at you. "Oh, come off it. I'm gonna climb him like a tree by the end of the night." You curse to yourself when she sways her hips after him because the worst part is, you don't doubt her.

Simon's at least considerate enough to scrounge up a table by the boards for you, so you have front row seats to the flirt fest the other two partake in. True to his word, Simon lets Ash win three games in a row, each time being rewarded with a slightly more intoxicated girl hanging from his neck. Ash gets touchier the more she drinks, and Simon doesn't seem to mind. Though you find it odd how he rarely reciprocates, content just to let her feel up his considerable pecs and grin down at her like she's being silly. You briefly wonder if he's even into her, until you catch him giving her a congratulatory smack on the ass a little too enthusiastically after her fourth win. He says he's going out for a smoke after that and you leap at the opportunity, grabbing your jacket from the booth and following him out.

"Guess I'll keep our booth occupied," Ash pouts.

"Better, had to scare off a racoon for that thing," you hear Simon rumbling as you lead the way back out onto the porch.

The night's only gotten colder since you've been inside and you're reminded yet again that you're not wearing a bra when you feel the cotton of your shirt chafe against your tight skin. You duck your head in embarrassment as you pull your flannel tighter around yourself, too distracted to notice Simon offering you a cigarette from his pack as you try to remember if you'd been egregiously nipple flaunting back inside.

"You okay?" Simon grunts as he lights his own smoke and you jolt back to reality, find him with his mask lowered.

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Just chillier than I expected."

When he pockets his lighter, Simon keeps his cigarette tucked between his lips. Hands freed, he pulls his jacket off and offers it to you before you can get a protest out. His voice is gravelly when he insists you take it and you do, reveling in the body heat still trapped within. It smells vaguely musty, almost like a garage, but you figure that tracks and it's not unpleasant.

You eye him over as you light your cigarette, not bothering to be all that subtle when you find him watching you just as closely. He's handsome, though you wonder if he keeps his face covered because of the cleft lip or the thick scar that crosses the bridge of his nose, a missing notch giving the slope of it a double ridge. Beneath his coat, he's just as muscled as you'd imagined, heavy texture of his thermal falling into the valley of his pecs nicely. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing more of the ink you'd spotted on his hand - a detailed skull crowned in heavy black swirls which follow the musculature of his forearm nicely.

"None too pretty, eh?"

You let your eyes slide back up to his face, willfully overlook the ruin of his nose. "Wouldn't say that."

He narrows his eyes at you, as if searching for a lie. You know he won't find one, though, and weather it unflinchingly. Eventually he grunts in acceptance, or maybe approval. He doesn't say much after that, though you're content to enjoy the relative silence. The rowdy group from earlier have moved along, and the only other company you have out here is a couple quietly bickering down in the parking lot. Combined with the volume of the bar, it's level of noise you would have found annoying even just two days ago, but after so many hours stuck in the car with Ash's constant chatter, you revel in the lack of conversation, enjoy the minute twinge you get when you stretch your knees damn near hyperextension.

"Your friend's a bit more talkative than you," Simon eventually observes, voice neutral as to whether or not he likes that about you.

"My friend is quite social," you hedge, and laugh when Simon looks like he has something to say about that.

"Your friend has an agenda."

"That obvious?"

"Less obvious: is it a good idea?"

"Well why would you ask me that, when I have a vested interest in keeping the two of you apart tonight so I don't have to stand around awkwardly while the cab is a'rocking, you know what I mean?"

Simon smiles, first time all night. It does nothing to reduce his severity. "Well, you're welcome to join instead."

You can't help but scoff at him, though your laugh turns more nervous when he gives no indication of joking. "About the only thing worse than listening to Ash scream like a banshee from outside the truck, would be listening to her scream like a banshee from inside the truck. Thanks though."

He returns your grin, but it seems a bit tight. You squint at him, trying to get a feel for how insulted he actually is, but he's unflinching, unbothered. Simon's silence unnerves you, and you work to fill the void despite your earlier easiness within it. "Which, uh… Which one's yours?" You nod at the line of trucks on your left and his dark eyes follow the movement.

Shaking his head, Simon steps into your space and angles you toward the other side of the lot. Leaning across your back, his big hand floats into your peripheral where he points at a bland, gleaming shape parked within the shadow of the building. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the low lot light in the corner, more a single porch light than anything. For a moment, it looks like any other of the million big white cabs you've seen crawling all over god's green earth, but then Simon clicks his fob behind you, and the lights flash, the dome light within turning on just long enough for you to catch a lacey little number hanging from his rear-view through the dark tinted glass, and then you notice the distinctly teeth-shaped grill you'd memorized in your passenger mirror earlier today. Your blood runs cold despite the heat of Simon behind you, you're tense, ready to flee even without your friend in tow. Your muscles don't listen, however, locked in place like a spring trap with no quarry. And then the crack of a breakshot from within the bar racks your nerves, has you spinning around to find Simon staring back down at you intensely, eyes dark enough to rival his truck's.

"You want that back? Kinda cold out here." His eyes dart down to your chest, as if he can see through the layers you've covered yourself with.

Part of you wants to yell at him, demand answers. A younger, squirrelier version of you probably would've slapped him. Instead, you slip past him wordlessly and make a beeline for your friend. "Ash," you hiss when you spot her, still at the booth where you left her. "Ash, we have to go -."

"Is that Simon's jacket?" She looks offended. You would roll your eyes at her if you had time to argue.

"Yes. Not important. Look," you take the jacket in question off, spare a brief thought for the base instinct telling you to rifle through his pockets. "Simon is the trucker I flashed. I think he followed us here."

"Oh, Jesus, Betty. That guy's probably already forgotten about you. You know how many people flash truckers every day?"

"In what world -? Is this National Lampoon's?" You huff, calm yourself. "Ash, I saw his truck, it's him, and I wanna go."

"You saw a white truck with a black cab, you mean? Spooky," she deadpans.

"He had my fucking bra hanging from his rearview -."

"You went in his cab?"

"No, fucking -."

"Did she go in your cab?"

You still, drawing yourself back to your full height from where you'd wound up leaning over your friend. Behind you, Simon steps close enough you can feel his heat again, smell that stale garage scent. "No," he shrugs and Ash eyes you both suspiciously.

"Here." You shove Simon's coat back into his chest, disappointed when you don't manage to move him an inch. Turning back to your friend, you dangle Ash's keys in her face. "I'm leaving. I encourage you to join."

"I can't even finish my beer?"

You don't bother to answer, storming back toward the door with enough confidence to have her scrambling after you.

"Jesus, what is your problem?" She hisses once the bar door slams shut after her.

You point at Simon's truck, distinct chrome grill giving Ash pause for all of two seconds. "Could be anyone's."

"He asked me if I wanted my bra back, Ash."

Behind her, the bar door opens again. Simon's wide frame fills it for a moment, before stepping out onto the porch, casual as can be. He lights up another cigarette, eyes heavy on you all the while. He doesn't seem to notice when Ash waves at him. This time when you walk away, the crunching of gravel under foot is the only indication you get that your friend is following. She's silent for once as she climbs into the passenger's seat. You don't bother adjusting anything, tearing out of the driveway with a spray of dirt and debris that would probably ruin some paint jobs. Behind you, a truck follows you out of the lot, but the twenty foot shipping container it has loaded reassures you that it isn't Simon on your tail.

Ash remains silent for a long while, though you can tell she hasn't fallen asleep yet by the quality of her breathing. When she does speak, her voice is thin and reedy. "I didn't think he'd follow us."

"I know." For your part, you wish you could muster much beyond a general grumble of annoyance. She was just being silly when she made her little dare; it's not her fault the guy had been a creep. Thankfully, it seems he'd been content to just scare you a bit, the rearview faithfully returning only one set of headlights in your wake every time you check.

"Go to bed, Ash. If he keeps following I'll wake you."

To your immense relief, she listens, her soft breaths relaxing the tension in your shoulders. After another glance in the side view to reassure yourself you're still safe, you take some soothing breaths of your own and run through what remains of your trip's itinerary, taking comfort in how little actually remained. Nearly half way over, and after tonight you don't think it'll be too hard to talk Ash out of any more unplanned stops at local dives just to check out the native wildlife. You're pretty sure you've both seen enough, the dejected way she'd looked after Simon's ulterior motive had been revealed playing again in your mind. Poor Ash, honestly, but you suppose it works out in your favor if it means getting home sooner and with fewer scrapes.

Feeling better, you turn the radio on, low enough it won't disturb your passenger. It takes some scanning through static to find anything, and when you do you're a bit annoyed that it's country gold of all things, but you can't deny how well it fits the landscape through which you drive, the low horizon backlit by the sunset's distant memory. It's nice, for a time. Nice enough you aren't really paying attention when DJ starts spouting local headlines, the news of a young woman's body being found recently only about an hour's ride north of here going in one ear and right out the other.

next>>

#dark fic #dead dove fic #141 x you #141 x reader #haul #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #Kyle garrick x you #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish x you #john price x reader #john price x you #poly 141 #💷🔪

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allgoodnamesrgoneee · 4 months ago

Note

jude x famous!reader(or normal!reader) . Where him and and reader have been together since they were young (like 16/17) and she is really close jude family, like close with jobe and Denise. thank youuuuuu💕

Family

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Jude is late to your graduation but at least Denise and Jobe are there.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 3.0k

Warnings! FLUFF, sweetness, Denise is the mom, Jobe being his adorable self as usual, nervous reader, smart reader, graduation, A surprise at the end.

Your hands were shaking, breathing uneven as you stared at the sea of people in front of you. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears, you were so nervous that you couldn't focus on anything else but your own fear and panic.

"Hey," a voice said, cutting through your anxious, spiraling thoughts. "Hey, look at me."

You look up to see Jobe in front of you. His eyes, the same warm brown as Jude's, were wide open as he stared at you, his hand reaching for your face. He cupped your cheeks, holding your gaze on his own. "Calm down," he told you softly. "Breathe. I'm here. Dad's here, Mom's here, Jude'll be here soon. You're going to kill it out there, I know you will."

You nodded, trying to breathe. You felt Denise's hands on your shoulders, her fingers digging into your skin as she rubbed them in a soothing way. "We're proud of you, sweetheart, so proud of you," she murmured as you tried to calm down.

Jobe leaned down and pressed his lips against your forehead, giving you a quick kiss before he pulled back. "I love you," he said softly.

You smiled, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. "I love you too," you said.

Denise pulled you in for a hug, holding you close as Jobe did the same. You hugged them both back, feeling your heart slow down. You were so grateful for them being here. Thankful to these people who had been your rock for the last four years.

You met Jude in high school, when you were sixteen, and he was seventeen. It was a rocky start, with you guys constantly arguing and trying to one up each other, but soon enough, you both found yourselves falling for one another. His family welcomed you with open arms, his mother and younger brother being especially nice to you.

Growing up in an orphanage, you didn't have anyone to rely on. And after you were kicked out at eighteen, all you had was them, and they took you in, welcoming you into their family like you had always been a part of it. Jude promised you that they would take care of you.

And he was right.

Denise, had always been like a mother to you. She was the one who helped you with your hair before a date, who cooked you meals when you were sick, and who would listen to you vent about Jude. She was there when you got your first job. There when you felt like the world was crumbling around you. Always offering a shoulder to cry on. She loved you like you were her own. The daughter she always wanted.

Mark had taken his role as your sole father figure. He wasn't the kind of man to shower you with affection through words, but his actions spoke volumes. He'd silently slip money into your wallet when he knew you were struggling, or stay up late to help you study for an exam. He was the one who'd taught you to change a tire, who'd cheered the loudest at your high school graduation. When you doubted yourself, he'd remind you of your strength with a simple nod, as if to say, "You got this."

Jobe, on the other hand, had become the brother you never had. He was fifteen when you met, the sweetest boy. You'd always been like an older sister to him, looking out for him whenever you could and being there for him when he needed someone. Him too. He was always there with a joke to lift your spirits. Listened to you when you needed to talk. And was fiercely protective. Your true partner in crime.

And then there was Jude.

Your soul mate. Your first everything. The person you fell in love with. Your forever. Your best friend. You guys were inseparable, from the day you met. He had been your rock for the last four years. Your guiding light. He made your life better, made you better.

He had seen you at your best and at your worst, and loved you through it all. He was the one who held you close on sleepless nights, whispering words of comfort and love. He was the one who believed in you, even when you didn't believe in yourself. He was your rock, your anchor, the love of your life.

Now, after four years together, Jude was still your boyfriend, and his parents and brother were like family to you.

And they'd come to support you at the biggest moment.

You had just finished your last year of college, graduating with honors at the age of twenty. A year early. You were still freaking out over the fact that you had gotten out of college a year early. And now you were here, ready to accept the award as valedictorian and give a speech.

It was a huge honor and a dream come true, and you were so lucky that the people you loved were there to watch it happen. But you were scared. Terrified that you would mess up, say something stupid, fall on your ass on stage. That everyone would hate your speech and think you didn't deserve to be there.

But Mark, Denise and Jobe were here for you. And soon so would Jude.

You pulled away from Denise and Jobe, taking a deep breath. "When did Jude say he was going to get here again?" You asked.

"He said he'd be here an hour ago, but that he might be late," Jobe replied.

You nodded, feeling a sense of disappointment. You'd really wanted Jude to be here to see you walk on stage, but whatever he's doing must be important. So you couldn't be mad at him for it. He has never let you down since you've known him and you knew he wouldn't let you down now.

"Okay," you said.

A voice cut through the noise backstage, someone telling you it was time to go on stage. "Oh my god," you breathed, your nerves coming back again.

Denise reached out and took your hand, pulling you in for a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. "We'll be out there in the front row," she said. "Go get them, baby."

You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. Your mouth was dry and your hands were sweaty. You felt like you were going to puke at any moment.

You force out a smile. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice hoarse from the lump in your throat. "I love you both."

"We love you too, honey," Denise said.

Jobe gave you a thumbs up. "Kick ass out there," he said as you hugged them both again before they left.

"You can do this Y/N." you mutter to yourself. You took a few deep breaths, trying to get your nerves under control. You had a few more minutes to spare before you went out there so you took the opportunity to calm yourself down.

You did this, you reminded yourself. You'd done the hard work, and this was your reward. You deserved to be here.

You thought back to when you first walked into the university four years ago. You'd been scared and unsure if you belonged, but you knew that you wanted to make something of your life. And you were here now, standing backstage with a degree secured. You'd made it. You'd actually done it.

A loud voice cut through your thoughts and you looked up to see one of the event planners standing next to you. "Ready?" she asked.

You nodded, letting out a breath as she gestured for you to walk out on stage. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your palms were sweating. You felt dizzy. This was it, the moment of truth.

The crowd was quiet as you stepped out, a smile on your face, your eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar face. And then you saw them.

Denise, Mark, Jobe and Jude were sitting in the front row. Jobe and Mark were smiling at you, beaming with pride. They both held signs saying 'Congratulations' and 'We're so proud of you'. Denise was crying, her eyes red rimmed.

Jude was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes shining with pride. He was wearing a button down shirt and dress pants, looking handsome. You smiled back at him, feeling your heart swell with love for this man.

He mouthed the words 'I love you' and you mouthed them back.

The announcer spoke your name and you walked up the steps to receive your award. You took it with shaking hands, mouthing 'thank you' to the presenter.

You moved the microphone to stand in front of the crowd. You were used to public speaking, and had practiced your speech countless times, but you were still nervous.

"Thank you," you said, trying to control your breath. "Thank you to everyone here today. To my classmates, my professors, and my family."

You glanced at Jude, Denise and Mark. "Without them I wouldn't be here," you said. "I want to thank them for their unwavering support and love. Without them I'd be lost." You paused, trying not to cry.

"To the class of 2024 who are graduating," you continued. "We made it. Congratulations to all of us for getting through these four years. And for those who didn't make it, who failed a class or two, who had to retake an exam. For those who are struggling, for those who are feeling lost."

You took a breath, looking at Jude who was smiling at you, his eyes warm. "It's okay to be lost," you said. "To fail. To struggle. It's okay not to have your shit together. Because you will get through this, I promise. Most of you may not know me personally, but if there's one thing I've learned in these past four years, it's that the journey is just as important as the destination. Every setback, every tear, every moment of doubt has shaped us into who we are today. We've faced challenges head-on, and we've come out stronger on the other side."

You paused, allowing the words to sink in, feeling the weight of their truth. The audience was silent, hanging on to your every word.

"I stand here today not just as a graduate, but as someone who has learned to embrace the unknown. To those who are scared of what's next, who feel the pressure of expectations weighing them down, know that it's okay to take your time. It's okay to find your own path, even if it's different from what you planned. Life is full of surprises, and sometimes the best things come from the unexpected."

Your eyes swept the crowd, meeting Jude's gaze once more. He winks at you making you smile.

"We've all had people who supported us, who believed in us when we didn't believe in ourselves. For me, that has been my family—Denise, Mark, Jobe, and Jude. They have been my rock, my anchor, and my greatest cheerleaders. To them, I owe everything."

You took a deep breath, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. "And to Jude, my love, my best friend, thank you for standing by me through everything. Your belief in me has been my strength, and your love has been my guide. I am so grateful for you."

A tear slid down your cheek, but you smiled through it.

"As we go forward from here, let's carry with us the lessons we've learned, the friendships we've made, and the memories we've created. Let's be kind to ourselves and to others. Let's chase our dreams with passion and perseverance. And let's never forget that we are capable of more than we ever imagined."

The crowd erupted in applause as you held up your diploma, bursting with joy. Happy that you were done with your speech and that it hadn't gone that bad.

Looking to the crowd again, you saw that Jude was missing from his seat. You frowned, wondering what was going on. Before you could think too much about it, the crowd's applause shifted into cheers, looking at the other side of the stage. You followed their gaze and felt your heart skip a beat.

There he was, walking towards you with a determined yet nervous look on his face. Jude Bellingham.

You could hear the murmurs of astonishement all around you wondering what Jude Bellingham was doing at a college graduation.

"Jude?" You whispered, unable to form words.

You felt the heat of his hand on your back as he moved to stand next to you, silently handing you the bouquet. You were so stunned that you forgot where you were, until you heard the laughter and the gasps of the crowd. You turned to see the Dean and everyone else staring at you, their faces shocked and confused.

"Oh my god," you whispered, feeling your face burn red with embarrassment. But before you could ask what he was doing he took the microphone from the announcer, his hands trembling slightly, cleared his throat and turn his face towards the crowd.

"Sorry for the interruption everyone," his voice was shaky, uncertain. "But I've been waiting for a moment to ask this question for years. And there's no better time than now." What is going on? you thought to yourself.

He looked at you, his eyes pouring out nervousness, and took a deep breath before speaking. "Y/N," he began, his deep voice echoing through the auditorium. "From the moment I met you," he continued. "I knew you were special. That you were meant to be mine." Tears were streaming down your face at this point. Your hands covering your mouth, unable to believe what was happening. You were going to die from happiness.

The audience fell silent, hanging on his every word. Jude continued, his voice steadying as he spoke from his heart. "And over the past four years, I've fallen more and more in love with you, every single day. You've challenged me, supported me, and loved me in ways I never thought possible."

He paused, taking a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I had a better speech prepared, but standing here, all I can think about is how much I love you and how I want to spend the rest of my life with you." The crowd gasped, and you felt your heart race, your breath catching in your throat.

He dropped to his knees and you almost passed out. Is he doing what you think he is doing? Oh god, please be real.

"Y/N," he said, his voice trembling with emotion, "Will you marry me?" He held out a small black box, his eyes shining with tears. "I love you," he said, his voice cracking.

Tears were streaming down your face at this point and you could hardly breathe. Looking out into the crowd you spotted Denise and Jobe crying. Mark was grinning from ear to ear.

The crowd's reaction faded into the background as you stared at Jude, his eyes full of hope and love. You looked at the diamond ring in his hand, at the way it sparkled in the light. At the man who'd become your soul mate.

You didn't hesitate. With a sob, you nodded, tears streaming down your face as he slid the ring onto your finger. He stood up, pulling you into his arms as you wrapped your hands around his neck, holding him close.

This couldn't be real, you thought. There was no way this was real. You were dreaming. You had to be.

And then you felt it. The cool metal on your finger, fitting perfectly as if it had been made for you. It was. You looked down at it, seeing the diamond ring sparkle in the light. You gasped, tears streaming down your face.

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause again, but all you could focus on was the man in front of you. The world seemed to blur, and it felt like it was just you and Jude in that moment. You clung to him, your heart pounding with disbelief.

"I can't believe this," you whispered into his ear, your voice trembling. "Is this really happening?"

Jude pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands. "Yes," he said softly, his forehead resting against yours. "This is real. We’re real."

"I love you so much," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the commotion around you. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you gazed into Jude's soft brown eyes, melting with love for you.

"I love you too, Y/N," Jude whispered back. He kissed your forehead gently, squeezing you tighter agaisnt his body leaving no space between you two. "I've been waiting to do this for so long."

You chuckled softly through your tears, overwhelmed by the surrealness of the proposal. "I can't believe you did this, When did you plan this?" you managed to say, still in disbelief as you looked down at the ring on your finger.

But you knew that it was real, that this was happening. Because he had done it in the most Jude Bellingham way possible, proposing to you in front of everyone in the world. You could feel the cameras on, you hear the clicks.

This would be all over the news.

Jude pulled back slightly, a smile on his face. "A couple months ago," he said sheepishly. "I wanted to surprise you,"

"Oh my god, you did," you laughed through your tears. You leaned into him, burying your face in his neck, breathing him in.

"I can't wait for you to be my wife," Jude whispered, his warm breath against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You looked up at him, leaning closer so your lips were brushing. "I can't wait either," you whispered back before pressing your lips against his in a sweet, tender kiss.

-Bianca🌻

#footballer x reader #football #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude x reader #jude x you #jb5 #bellingham

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mggsv · 1 year ago

Text

CHEER FOR ME CAPTAIN !! ☆

f!reader x perv!gojo satoru (18+) | not proof read | reblog please!

summary : Satoru who’s hated you since he first laid eyes on you freshman year of highschool…Satoru who started teasing you then. Satoru who can’t stand the fact that you’re in college together- with you being captain of the cheer team and him a basketball player. Gojo who can’t stand that he didn’t fuck you before you gained a reputation.

warnings : reader is poc coded, pervy!gojo, bet making, porn with plot, reader’s nipples are pierced, degrading, hair pulling, gojo’s tongue is pierced, lots of dirty talk, slight spanking, mutual masturbation

“She’s a stuck up cunt.” Satori’s voice rang out, filled with disgust as he watched your soft skin move in the small red skirt. “Not to mention a slut. I’ve heard the rumors.. of course she’s easy.” He scoffs. But his blue eyes said differently. His brows furrowed, concentrating on how easy you made it look. How your ass jiggled with every step. To say he was hard would be an understatement: he wanted to fuck, and every time he asked you said no.

The first time was graduation. You went to high school together and he finally noticed you. Freshman year, you were nothing more than another obstacle in his way in the halls. He never apologized for shoving you out of the way, or when he’d bump into you and ultimately knocking your things out of your hands.

But graduation…oh graduation. How cute you were wearing those little glasses and wide smile sported by your plump lips. It couldn’t get any better, but then you walked. Oh you walked…those smooth legs striding to get the well deserved diploma. Satoru hated that he didn’t see you before- all this time such a thing was lying in front of him….innocent and untouched. Trapped in baggy clothes and good grades. He wanted nothing more than to rub his long fingers in that small space between your legs and cup your juicy cunt until his fingers were coated in your slick. He wanted his face buried between your legs, tongue deep into your pretty pussy while you moaned his name. He wanted his cock deep in your heat, feeling your pussy tightening around his big dick.

Geto stifled out a small laugh as he watched you along with Gojo. “She’s a slut for not fucking you but everyone else?” They’re best friends- inseparable at that. Geto knew of Gojo’s little infatuation with you- He’s fucked you , so Geto’s commentary made it no better. Gojo gave him a side glare before standing, sighing dramatically as he ran a hand through his hair. “Invite her to the party later.”

“You know I am. Probably still won’t fuck you though.” Geto stands up with him. “That’s not what I-!” Blue eyes flicker at the sound of laughter. He almost moaned seeing you touching your toes..stretching, your ass in the air. Fuckkk he had many regrets, but you? His biggest. “Just- make sure she’s there. This time I will fuck her. Maybe we’ll date too~ think she’ll be open for marriage?” He had a little smirk as the pair left the gym.

Word of the party spread fast as it usually did. Knowing Geto threw the best parties. He was a sorority leader after all. What made the knees even better was Gojo being there. The all-star player, Geto’s best friend, the best fuck around. You yawned and stretched, looking at the text from Geto, and the unopened ones before that. He bugged you every other week about getting his dick wet again, it wouldn’t happen, though. Even when you guys did it, it was a one time thing and he knew that- Stil, he liked bothering you. You look at the text under it, ‘Wear your uniform too.’, and groan. You knew for a fact it was another little thing to try and get Gojo and you together. You didn’t like him much..he picked on you, and you hated people who did that. That being said, you never missed the slick touches he made when you passed him by. The way he came to your practices and watched you stretch. When during the basketball games he pointed at you before ultimately winning the game.

At some point people assumed you dated on the low. That was quickly shut down whenever he did ask you out, which was often.

“Oh come on..i’ll be all alone tonight.” Satoru had whined, arms wrapping around your waist, chin on your shoulder. He was sweaty, having just won the game. “It’s the weekend princess..cmon cheer for me again? G..O..Let’s go Gojo~!” He mocked your voice. Gojo’s face tucks into your neck, teeth grazing the tired skin.

“Fuck off Satoru.” you had pushed him off, ignoring the whistles from the team.

And it only started from there. It was strange how he wanted your attention now that you were someone worth something. But you couldn’t deny how hot it felt, perhaps it was just the rush of cheering on your feet for hours.

The party was no better. You walked through the crowd of people in different outfits- suddenly feeling better that you showing up in your cheer uniform wouldn’t be humiliating. This time you wore it with different accessories. Your curly hair in a half up style, wearing a pair of red thigh high socks to cordinate with the short skirt that showed the bottom of your ass per usual- this time without the shorts underneath.

“Look at you..” You hear Geto’s voice. Glancing up, you see him in nothing but a pair of sweatpants with his sorority’s symbol on his stomach. “Damn.” he coughs, nodding and grabbing a red cup. “Drink?”

“You know it.” frowning at the fact that he was alone. It was unusual. He and Satoru were always together. You glance down at the clear liquid in the cup before taking a sip. “Where’s the idiot?” You look around the room. Geto’s chuckles, bending down to your ear. “You want the truth or a lie?” It sent shivers down your spine, his hair tickling your shoulder. Scoffing, you move away from him a bit. “See, now you’re acting weird.” You begin to walk away, but didn’t get far. You jump right into someone, spilling the alcoholic drink on the both of you. “Shit! I’m sorry-“

“Damn Captain…I just washed my jersey and now look..tsk tsk~” Your stomach turned at the sound of Satoru’s voice. He had grabbed your hands, pulling you into him more. “So what are you gonna do about it?” He whispers lowly. His eyes were on you and you only. “Get off of me-“ You huff and push against his chest. He chuckles and lets you go, holding his hands up. The wet stain visible in the material of his jersey. You were silently thanking the universe that basketball season was over. “Sorry, Gojo.” you cough, staring up at him in a slight embarrassment. It reminded you of too much..it reminded you of highschool, and then you felt disgusted. Scoffing, you turn away from him.

“Oh come on- what’s your problem with me huh?” Gojo whined as he follows you. You wanted to be out of the house and quick as possible, not feeling the vibe anymore. Instead trying to get away from Gojo lead you anywhere but out. Pretty soon you were both in an isolated area in the frat house. You cross your arms, the alcoholic smell on your uniform starting to make you sick.

“My problem? My problem is you! It’s always been you. You’ve picked on me since high school and now I’m actually someone you see you want to fuck me! You’re weird!” Your face was flushed. Gojo’s little smirk turned into a small frown. You didn’t realize it but your eyes had watered, your arms tightening around yourself.

“And i can’t stand knowing that I wanna say yes.” you murmured to his surprise. He took a step forward, backing you against a door. Gojo’s face was close to yours. “Well shit princess if that was all you could’ve said that two “can i fuck you?”s ago.” Snorting his hand crept down to your skirt. You felt hot between the legs, the air around you both becoming insufferable. “Fuck this.” you grumble, opening the door to a bathroom. You both stumble inside, your hand hurriedly taking off your top. Your nipples sprang free.

“Holy fuck this is real.” Dumbass had said , his cock hard in his pants. you rubbed your thighs together, hands moving to tug at the pierced buds. “Stop standing there before I change my mind.” You rushed out, feeling a bit embarrassed. Gojo had muttered something along the line of not having to tell him twice..

“F-Fuck- fuck princess~! That’s it..ride that dick like I know you can..fuck that’s it-“ Gojo whines out a breathy moan, hand forcing your head back as he pulled your hair. Your wet cunt spitting out around his thick cock. Loud wet sounds mixed with your moans was music to Gojo’s ears. He was in a bliss. He didn’t care about the cold bathroom floor he sat on while you rode his dick- no he couldn’t give less of a fuck. He didn’t mind the way the tears ran down your face either while you begged..and begged for him to let your hair go.

“Mmpf~ T-Toru..Toru wait-“ You mewl out feeling his thumb press on your lower stomach, you didn’t think he could slip any further into you but he did. “FUCKK!” Your pussy gushes over his thighs, splashing against your stomach but you didn’t stop, no, you rode him the way you would’ve the last time he asked..and the time before that, and many many times before that. Your legs shook, a harsh smack landing on your ass while Gojo became a moaning mess. His eyes rolled as he started to meet your hips halfway, “Don’t stop,” He pants, “don’t fucking stop princess…fuck—- fuck fuck fuck..oh fuck that’s it. Gonna cum so hard baby.”

“Pussy was made for me wasn’t it? My pussy.” He groaned, leaning down to catch your sensitive bud into his mouth. You gasp, slowing down, grinding your hips against his while the cool metal of your piercing collided with Gojo’s tongue piercing. “Tell me it’s mine baby.” His teeth pulled at the bud, earning a slap on the chest from you as you clench around his thick shaft. Your clit throbbed at the feeling of him abusing your nipples. “I..It’s yours—mm, ahh-! It’s yours Toru baby..” You saw white, your breathe trembling as he started to rock you against him. You felt all of him too, he went in raw. “It’s mine?” he groans again, feeling his cock twitch inside of you.

“..y-yes. Oh Toru’ mgonna cum..mgonna cum Toru! Please..please..” oh! he loved every bit of you. he loved hearing you just beg for the long awaited orgasm. He wanted to be your everything, the best dick you’ve gotten, the best orgasm you’ve ever had, better than anyone else, better than Geto. You felt your hands ride up his chest. He pulls back, sticking his tongue out to show off the metal ball on his tongue, a shitty grin on his lips while your hand goes to choke him. You but your lip, eyes staring into his as he lets go of your hair. He sets his hands on your hips instead, giving you another harsh smack. Such a slut.. you moan at the sight. “You want this?” You eggs you on. You nod eagerly. “want it..want it bad Toru..” You bounce with the help of his hands guiding you. His cock feeling deeper than before.

“I hope you’re on the fucking pill then.” He says, pumping another thrust or two before you’re clenching around his cock. You felt the wind leaving your body as you stared into his blue eyes, cumming with a loud cry. His eyes flutter, filling you up as promised. “Take it..fuck take it all princess. That’s it…good fucking girl princess.” You whimper, hand squeezing around his neck while you enjoyed the buzz of your high.

Once you were down enough to move, you wasted no time crawling off his lap. You sat back, closing your legs and shivering at the feeling of his cum running down your pussy. “Show me that pretty pussy princess..” Gojo glacéd at you through hazed eyes, panting softly as he stroked his now soft cock. Shyly you opened your legs…. “Fuck..” he moans, the last bit of cum dripping over his fingers. Your fingers start to rub your sensitive clit, jerking at the sensation. You watch him carefully while he did the same to you, blushing. Your fingers slip into the leaking hole, curling slightly as your back arched. “Shit..” Gojo moans at the sigh, feeling his cock twitch and the start of another round…

Neither of you knew how much time had passed when you bother returned to the still booming party. Gojo’s arm was around you- while you embarrassingly enough let him. You yawn softly, putting your head on his chest when you both finally found Geto with a blunt in his mouth.

“You both owe me.” You glanced at Geto and rolled your eyes.

“What? Owe you for what?” Gojo looks down at you and then back to his best friend. “I bet you’d fuck her tonight and I bet her she wouldn’t be able to stop denying you. I win, pay up.”

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rimunagenius · 5 months ago

Text

The Five Times Caitlin Clark Wanted to Kiss You - C.C

❝ word count: 3.4k ❞

❝ warnings: RPF!! , fluff , two massive idiots in love ❞

❝ rimunagenius speaks: this might be the very first time i fulfilled the promise of uploading something the night I say i will … everybody clap for me pls!! 🙂‍↔️ anyways … sorry this is actually pretty long but i actually feel like i cooked so bad on this !!! also yes, i used todays game day fit for reference in this … do not judge me rn … ❞

| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

The first time:

You two had been best friends your entire lives. You lived right next door so seeing each other almost every day, being together all hours of the day wasn't an uncommon occurrence. That's why when you two had been couped up in her room all day, a long day of swimming in her pool, it didn't phase anyone in the home. Including yours.

The talk about starting your senior year of high school was something that came up quite often this summer. Nerve-wracking but also excitement-inducing. "Who do you think will play again this year?" You lay on your back, your feet at the edge of the bed, the cool wall barely ghosting your toes while your head hung off the bed, next to Caitlin's.

You looked to the side, analyzing Caitlin's face. She looked very pretty. Her cheeks were rosy from the slight sunburn that began to set into her pale skin, brown spots that appeared to be new freckles scattering her rosy cheeks.

She sat on the floor, her back resting against the bed you appeared to be dangling off of. She turned her head to you, looking away quickly realizing the proximity between the both of you. Her patience and self-discipline began to grow weary the last two months of summer being around you all the time. She couldn't help but notice that you had grown into the most beautiful girl in the world.

"Well, I know Sydney got pissed last season because we played well together that she only got playing time when you and I weren't on the court or the field. So I have no idea if she'll want to come back." She shrugged looking back at you, her eyes dropping to your tongue dragging across your lips quickly before looking away.

"Yeah, I feel bad about that. We're just better together." You looked at your best friend, her brown eyes locking with yours for what felt like the longest moment of the whole day.

"Definitely better." She whispered, suddenly the urge to meet her lips with yours getting increasingly harder by the second. Suddenly it didn't feel like she was all alone in what she seemed to think about you this whole summer.

You scooted your head just a tiny bit closer, closing the distance to dangerous proximity, your breath practically fanning over the other. You both inched closer, the tension between the both of you growing.

"Dinner's ready." Colin came bursting through the door, looking at the both of you. Both your heads shot in the direction of the intrusion, suddenly whisking away any possibility of you two.

"We'll be right there." You said, cheeks suddenly growing hot and pink as you sat yourself upright and stood.

Caitlin Clark, your best friend, just almost kissed you.

The second time:

You two had just graduated and you both couldn't be any happier graduating together. The celebration with your families took place tomorrow so tonight was just you and Caitlin. All of your friends had left a while ago, pushing an hour ago, and you two stayed at the cool lake together.

She just picked you up and ran and jumped into the water with you. You came up from the water laughing so hard your stomach hurt, it softly echoing in the space around you. You swam in front of Caitlin, studying her face as the sun began to set behind you, the pretty hues painting another artwork on her already flawless face. The pretty pattern they painted in her chocolate eyes.

You fought the feelings you had been growing for the brunette all of your senior year. It wasn't obvious to anyone else but you two. The irony of it all made you laugh. "Will you miss me when I'm gone? Promise to visit or meet back home?" You asked. The soft pain in your heart started to settle and make home when she announced she committed to the University of Iowa and you Iowa State University.

Both are at home but yet so far away from each other. "Of course, I'll miss you. How could I not miss this pretty yet obnoxious face hounding me every day." She ruffled your wet hair, swimming a little closer towards you. Would it be strange to say that in the cold water, you could still feel her warm body radiating its warmth towards you?

"Good. Can't have you going and abandoning me now that you're miss hotshot, all-star recruit." You hugged her, enjoying the stark contrast of the water and her body against yours. You pulled away, your eyes getting lost in hers. You couldn't possibly kiss her.

She fought demons and all the thoughts telling her to just kiss you because she won't see you for a long time after you both leave. One kiss wouldn't hurt the friendship, right? But it would. She didn't know for sure that you liked girls. The longing glances, the lingering touches, and the indirect confessions you two shared late at night throughout the year still weren't sufficient pieces of evidence to convince the brunette that you shared the same admiration she did for you. Love. She was in love with you.

She couldn't ruin the friendship. That's why when she noticed both your breathing growing heavy, the eyes bouncing from eye to eye and to each other's lips, the declining distance, she had to cut it short. She'd rather love you in silence than announce it to the world and lose you in the process. "You're my best friend, you know that?" She looked at your face, scanning it to make sure she didn't say the wrong thing. Maybe she should have just kissed you. In the privacy and knowledge of only you two.

"Yes, of course. You're mine." You whispered, pulling apart and reaching for the deck to pull yourself out of the water and dry off for the night.

The third time:

You had quite literally sweated through your tank top under your Clark jersey while you anxiously watched what was the last minute of the BIG 10 tournament with the Clark family. Your team had been eliminated a couple of games ago, so you made haste in coming to see your favorite girl play. You and her mom holding hands, Colin on your other side while you held his hand. Caitlin had a stellar game so far, so you shouldn't have felt as worried as you did, but you couldn't help but feel nervous because you knew how badly she wanted this.

You came to see her and have been attached at the hip for the last three days like old times. You watched her relentlessly practice her shots, you assisting in her off-the-dribble shots, contested shots, her quick release shots. You spent hours in the gym with her. You watched her practice and the team, you had complete and utter faith that they'd secure the win, it was just nerve-inducing to watch it all unfold.

She had pulled another logo three off a screen, the whole family, including you, celebrating among the thousands of other people in the arena. The cheering halted for moments before the final buzzer, signaling the win Iowa University had secured.

The shouting and screaming that ensued was enough to rupture the eardrums in every single being in this arena. You and Colin embraced while jumping up and down that all of your guys' favorite girl had won the biggest game in her career. This was truly an unreal feeling for a mere spectator in Caitlin's life, so you couldn't possibly imagine how this must've felt to Caitlin while she celebrated with her team on the court.

It wasn't long before the family was allowed to make their way to the court and celebrate with the champions. You greeted all of Caitlin's friends who had soon become yours within the last few days. You congratulated them on their win and praised their efforts in making it all possible.

You caught the eye of Caitlin, deep into a post-game interview, her eyes meeting yours, a soft smile gracing her lips as yours reached your eyes. You couldn't have been more happier and proud that she achieved what she so desperately wanted and hoped to accomplish for herself and this program.

You and her parents waited for her to finish all her other obligations before thinking to interrupt to celebrate, it was quite taxing due to the excitement and pride the five of you harbored for the brunette, but it left a lull in the celebration between you. "You know, I'm glad you were able to be here. I know how much it means to Caitlin that you could make it tonight. I know how much it means to me and Anne that you stayed her best friend through all these years, being another major support system for our girl. You're a part of our family and we love you, kiddo. Just thought I should mention it." Brent leaned to the side, and low, to be able to reach your ear close enough so you could hear him over the roar of cheers among the women and their families.

His eyes trained on the happiness of his daughter while she hugged her teammates trying to make her way to you guys. You looked up to the man, the man whose house you spent the majority of your childhood in. You smiled to yourself at his confession, nearly bringing tears to your eyes. "Of course. I was happy to come and make her game. I wouldn't miss it for the world. She's worked so hard and I'm glad to see the amazing player and woman she hoped to be." You patted his back, him looking at you at your confession of Caitlin. "I'm glad you consider me part of the family too. I would hope so because then I spent all those years asking for food and sleepovers for nothing, Mr. Clark." You both laughed.

Unbeknownst to you both, Caitlin had been sauntering over to the lot of you. Her family. She never admired your beauty more than she did right now. She loved that you could spend the moments in her absence, talking and laughing with her parents and brothers. The look of this picture seemed so natural to you.

She could kiss you so badly right now, wanting nothing more to relish in the thought of you finally being far more than just her best friend. The attraction she had for you, doubled tenfold, just by the small interaction you shared for being absent for the last three months.

She couldn't get enough of you.

The fourth time:

It was mere hours passed from the point where you, Caitlin, and your family celebrated her win in the BIG Ten tournament that you two spent the night quietly in your apartment. You had invited her over, leaving the option for her to celebrate with her family of course, and she gladly accepted your invitation.

You two had cleaned up for the night, you changed your clothes, showering most immediately when arriving home, letting Caitlin wander around your place for the first time. She showered second, changing into old pajamas you kept of hers over the years. "Cait, I seriously can't believe you guys did it! I mean, I can, but oh my god it's still crazy." You looked at Caitlin who sat at the island barstool just watching you. Attentive to what you had been saying and the way your eyes literally shined talking about her. It settled a warm feeling in her chest, that some like you, especially you, could talk about her with such joy and adoration.

"You literally looked amazing out there, Cait." You smiled at her, placing the strawberries you had been cutting into the bowl next to the cutting board. You two had already eaten dinner at a restaurant with some players from the team and their families. You two just wanted a snack and all you had were strawberries and whipped cream.

"Thank you, pretty." The blush in your cheeks suddenly matched those of the berries you had just placed in front of Caitlin. You turned to grab the whipped cream from the fridge, trying to bask in the cool air to ease the flustered look on your face. Failing miserably.

"Of course, Cait." You smiled. You really could not stop smiling whenever you had been around her. It was becoming concerning. Not literally, but seriously, the happiness and giddiness were becoming funny at this point, especially amusing the brunette in front of you. You suppose that's why she kept calling you names like that. Except the effect is more efficient in person and not over Facetime. "Do you want something to drink?" You asked, clearing your throat. Suddenly the air becoming increasingly thick to breathe when she looks at you the way she has been for the last twenty minutes.

You opened the cupboard, noticing that the cups you needed were on the second shelf, the shelf you indeed could not reach. "Hey, do you min—" You turned to face Caitlin, seeing her already two steps ahead of you.

She stood behind you, placing one hand on your hip. Surely she needed to balance herself, but she was six foot...

You sighed quietly, fully knowing she could hear you but it didn't matter. She reached her other hand, picking up two glasses with one hand with ease. Caitlin waited til the last possible second to remove her hand from its place on your hip. She placed the glasses, down, closed the cabinet, and turned you around to face her, all while her one hand remained on your body.

Looking at her this close, with the both of you sharing the same look, and surely the same thoughts about the other, was something totally different than all the other times. Granted the other times both of you had a nudge of what could transpire between you both, just less courage and lack of all the information keeping you from doing so.

But right now, the reaction she managed to draw from you, her being so close she could hear it and feel you beneath her, the feeling of your body growing warm at the mere thought of her touching you anywhere else was something so different. There was more clarity about your guys' relationship right now than there has ever been before.

"You're so pretty. Do you know that? It's unreal." Caitlin whispered, her face now next to your ear, the feeling of her breath sending chills anywhere and everywhere. You could not believe this was happening right now. How could you two act like best friends if what you think is about to happen happens?

"I wouldn't say unreal." You seriously could not muster a better response than the first, most flustered, yet idioticly undertoned answer that came to mind. You looked into her eyes, suddenly unaware of anything else. Her eyes were chocolate brown, almost black in ill-lighted rooms but right now they were the center of your captivation. It would be a national crime to look away right now.

Caitlin could see the way she was making you feel right now. She couldn't lie to herself and say she didn't feel the same way you did, she was just better at hiding it than you were. "No, I think that's exactly the word I'd use. So pretty." Her voice gets significantly faint and breathless at her last sentence. Her lips now significantly closer to yours.

You reached a hand up and rested it on her cheek instinctually. You held her face close, your body now pressing into hers. Both of Caitlin's hands were resting on either hip, holding you as close as you'd allow.

This was a major dynamic change of your friendship and you two were processing this as you went. It was scary to think about. You tilted your head up, breath fanning over her lips, her pace in breaths matching yours. Both of you felt so extremely overwhelmed but the good kind. Your eyes met each other, the action making it feel like a butterfly sanctuary inhabited your belly as the moment occurred.

"Caitlin, are you going to kiss me or not?" You sighed, the desperation evident in the tone of your voice. You sighed at the force of which one of her hands reached the back of your neck, pulling your face into hers. She kissed you so hard you couldn't breathe. The way she grabbed so gently yet so desperately like if she didn't, you'd vanish.

This was truly something out of a movie. The years of build-up between the both of you. The feelings that were so secretive yet not so. It was a perfect act that transpired in your kitchen.

The fifth time:

Caitlin was in a rush to get ready, fully under the impression that you were already done and just waiting on her. The second you both walked into your shared apartment in Indiana, Caitlin bolted to your guys' room and hopped in the shower. They had beat Chicago Sky for the second time this season and you had gone in shorts and a black form-fitted crop top, with Caitlin's jersey over it. You had told her you had to change and that was it, but it panicked Caitlin that she would have to complete a whole routine before she would be ready.

"Baby, have you seen my—" She paused in her hurried state, looking at you, suddenly unimpressed at the state she found you in. "Baby, are you kidding me?" She chuckled softly as she found your face buried in a pillow. You had already put on your spaghetti strapped, long pencil dress, curled your hair, and all you had to do was your makeup.

"I'm just a little tired, Cait." You turned over, looking at your fiancé with a sleepy smile on your face. You patted the spot next to you, putting your face back into the pillow. Wanting to be near your beautiful girl at the moment while you lay in your shared bed.

"Let me get dressed. You need to do your makeup before you start to complain that I didn't tell you sooner because you have no time." She slid on a sports bra and a white crop top. Her underwear and her forest green shorts followed. She plopped on the bed next to you.

"I don't want to do my makeup but I do. I just want to lay here with you. For like...ever." You sighed as you rolled onto your side, your arm sliding over her stomach, cuddling you two together. "Baby, we have to go." You sighed, looking at her with a pout on your lip.

"Yeah, I know that. You're the one laying on me." Caitlin looked down at you, watching you get up. She sat there and watched you as you walked up to your vanity in the corner and started your makeup routine. She couldn't believe you were real. You two grew up together and not once did she believe that you'd be this gorgeous. It was literally like watching an angel.

You had caught her eye through the mirror, and you blushed profusely, suddenly aware that she had been watching you this whole time and you just now noticed how insane you looked with unblended concealer and contour. "Stop looking at me like that." You proclaimed, cheeks blushing and lips curled into one of the biggest smiles.

"Like what?" Caitlin whispered, her hands folded in her lap. God, she couldn't help but smile whenever she seemed to be looking at you.

"Like you want to kiss me so bad." You blended out your concealer and contour, now putting blush on. Hoping it'll conceal the blush already present.

"Well, I want to." She said matter of factly. Which made you both blush even more than you two already had been. You two were blushing mess in each other's presence it was insane.

"Oh my gosh, can you let me get ready without you trying to seduce me, at least once?" You both laughed while you tried to hurry up and get ready before Caitlin's eyes literally made you explode. She went to blow dry and straighten her hair before finding her resting place on the bed, watching you. "Okay! I'm done, my love." You said, sliding on your sandals before grabbing your purse that Caitlin was already holding out for you.

Mumbling a thank you, Caitlin grabbed her matching blazer to her shorts and followed you out of the room and to the car. She stole the kiss she was waiting for before opening the door for you to get in.

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feeder86 · 5 months ago

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Blame Game

Aiden raced down the stairs the moment he heard Katy’s car pulling up on the driveway. Now that she was living so far away, he hadn’t seen her since his high school graduation at the start of the summer. But as much as he loved his sister, there was one thing he hoped for more than anything else: that she had brought her sexy boyfriend Gaz with her.

Squeals of delight sounded from Aiden’s mother as she opened the door and embraced the daughter who ran into her arms. Aiden could already tell that his hopes had been realised as he spotted his father standing in front of her, his hands on his hips, staring defensively over her shoulder at the boyfriend who must have been trotting along behind.

Now racing towards him, Katy wrapped Aiden in a big hug, telling him how excited she was that he was off to college that weekend, and that they simply had to come down and see him before he left. Aiden smiled, but watched keenly towards the threshold of the door as the shadow of an unseen man stepped ever closer towards it. Then, darkening the hallway as his giant frame filled the doorway, Gaz stepped into view. The sight of him made Aiden’s breath catch in his chest. The guy was even fatter than he had been the last time he’d seen him!

“Congratulations on getting into our old college,” Gaz smiled, heading over to Aiden and shaking his hand. The heat emanating from his giant, sweaty palms was unreal. The man was an enormous furnace, fuelled by an obvious abundance of excess calories. His kind eyes smiled behind even puffier cheeks, and Aiden noted with interest just how swollen with fat the man’s neck had now become. “I know you’ll have just as much fun there as we did,” he nodded towards Katy.

“Thanks,” Aiden mumbled, trying to suppress his immediate arousal. Behind Gaz’s back, he could see his father shaking his head in disapproval, obviously noticing, just like the rest of them, how much heavier Gaz was looking after the summer.

Katy took her large boyfriend’s hand and led him down towards the kitchen, just as she had the first time she had brought him home during her first summer from college. Back then, they’d all thought how well Katy had done for herself, bagging such an athlete on a football scholarship. Gaz had been tall and broad, muscular and handsome. Their father had taken to him right away, even hosting a large barbecue for all the neighbors before he left. Finally, he had another real man around the house to discuss all the things he loved: cars, beer and football; topics that both Katy and Aiden always had very little interest in. It was only a year or so after that when his opinion started to change. Gaz’s athletic frame had bloated up by the following summer as he stacked on weight to play a different position on the field. Aiden remembered the playful jibes his father made about Gaz’s rounded stomach, assuming, just like the rest of them, that it was merely a temporary issue whilst Gaz trained himself up. However, as the holidays came around, Gaz returned only looking fatter again. By the spring, he’d been dropped from football altogether, settling into a cozy, lazy lifestyle that Aiden’s father just could not tolerate from a man who claimed to love his daughter so much.

It had been a whole year since the pair of them graduated now. Katy had always been a high-flyer and easily strolled into a high paying position at a law firm in the city. They rented a nice place by the river and Gaz had found himself a quiet little job in a retro video game store not too far away; a job that their father described as having ‘no prospects whatsoever.’

As Aiden walked behind them on the way to the kitchen, he could see exactly why his dad was silently fuming. Gaz had never looked wider. Despite his great height, his once muscular glutes had swollen like giant balls of beautiful blubber. His hips had pushed outwards and his thick, lard-filled thighs were even starting to make him walk a little differently. Gaz’s t-shirt was loose, but clung unflatteringly to his great love handles, creasing into the delicious folds of fat on his back. His once great, muscular shoulders were now coated with blubber, swelling under his armpits and bloating the tops of his arms. Even the back of his head was compromised by a large fat roll that could be easily seen with his short, well groomed haircut. What he weighed these days, Aiden could only imagine. Judging by how fat he was looking today, how tall and built he had been in the past, he had to be heading towards 450lbs, easily.

Katy was a talker. She always had been. Over dinner, she didn’t take a breath as she explained everything that she had been up to in work and their life in the city. Aiden could tell that their father wasn’t really listening and, if he was honest, neither was he. They were both transfixed by watching Gaz loading up his plate again and again; his greedy little eyes surveying what was still on offer as he poured the gravy all over his second, third and fourth helping.

“And what about you, Gaz?” their father asked next. “Any update on getting a better job?”

Gaz nodded and swallowed everything in his mouth, keeping them all waiting. “Yes. The video game store owner lets me open up by myself in the morning now,” he smiled. “I’ve got my own set of keys and everything,” he beamed.

Their mother smiled half-heartedly back.

“But you’ve not found anything better paid?” their dad pressed on. “After all those years in college. It would be a shame to waste it working in a video game store, wouldn't it.”

Gaz shrugged. “I don’t need to worry about that. Katy earns more than enough money for the both of us,” he explained, reaching out to load more potatoes on his plate despite the fact that everyone else had long since finished eating.

Aiden braced himself for his father to bite. Gaz’s complacency and willingness to sit back and let Katy run around after him made him more angry than pretty much anything else. But, the man resisted; contenting himself with a look of frustration towards his wife instead.

“Actually…” Katy smiled next. “We’ve got some big news!” She tapped Gaz on his shoulder for him to stop eating for a second. Then she peered around at them all, enjoying the anticipation. “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!”

Obligingly, their mother rose to her feet and squeaked in delight. Aiden followed and shook Gaz’s hand before reaching in for a hug with his sister. Only their father remained sitting, as if struggling to take the news in. Luckily, the engaged couple had merely assumed that he was simply overwhelmed as they joked and teased him about having to walk Katy up the aisle and make a speech when the time came. Aiden had never seen his father so completely lost for words.

“What the hell is Katy playing at?” their dad grumbled an hour later, looking across the lounge at the fat lump who was soon to become his son-in-law. As usually happened when Gaz came over, he’d insisted on putting the sports on TV and then drifted off to sleep as his body digested the incredible amount of food he had just gorged himself on. “Why is she saddling herself with a liability like this?”

“Shh!” Katy will hear you, his wife whispered.

“Well, honestly. Someone needs to tell her. Look at the belly on him! Twenty three years old and look at it! He can’t drive, has no career prospects and is just content to slob about like this. And after all the opportunities he’s had. He should be ashamed of himself!”

“Katy loves him and that’s all that matters,” their mother hissed at him. “Isn’t that right, Aiden?” she asked, knowing that she could always rely on her son to back her up when their father was in this mood.

“Come on, dad! It’s not the end of the world. You used to really like Gaz. You even preferred him to me at one point!” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Tell me one man who would be happy for his daughter to marry THAT!” he pointed rudely at the bloated and squishy former athlete.

“Aw! Is he asleep again?” Katy cooed as she returned from the bathroom seconds later. “He does this at home, He eats his dinner and then… straight to sleep on the couch!” she chuckled admiring the large, lard-filled man who was filling her parents’ lounge. “He must feel very relaxed here,” she smiled at her father.

“Katy, if you’ve got a second, would you be able to help me check I’ve got everything I need for college?” Aiden asked his sister, keen to get her out of the lounge in case their father began to speak his mind. “It’s all upstairs in my room.”

Katy obliged and followed him upstairs, taking a peek in all the rooms she used to know so well and noticing the many subtle changes since she had moved out. “So, tell me…” she smirked, “...how pissed is dad about us getting engaged?”

“Pretty fucking pissed!” Aiden smirked back.

At this, Katy simply threw her head back and laughed. “If he thinks he’s annoyed about it, he should have a word with Gaz’s parents. They’re absolutely livid!” she grinned.

“Why would they not be happy?” Aiden asked in surprise. His sister was the perfect catch: smart, outgoing, attractive; highly successful.

“Oh, come on!” Katy sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically. “You’re old enough to realise that Gaz’s weight gain hasn’t exactly been by accident.” She reached out and tapped her younger brother on his head, as if listening for an echo in the void where his brain should have been. “Wake up and start paying more attention! Are you sure you’re the one who got all those amazing grades?” she joked.

“You encouraged him?” Aiden asked innocently.

“To put it mildly!” Katy nodded. “His mom hates me with a passion. She says her boy was heading for a professional football career before I came along.”

“And was he?” Aiden asked. He’d been somewhat younger back then and only mildly interested in his sister’s lovelife.

“I guess she’ll never know,” Katy chuckled wickedly, with the same ruthlessness which had seen her promoted twice since starting at her new firm last year. “Oh, don’t give me that look!” she remarked to her brother. “Gaz loves it! He’s a horny little pig. You don’t need to worry about him,” she stated dismissively. “Besides, I’ve seen the way your tongue falls out every time you see him. You love it just as much as I do.”

Aiden felt his face flushing with embarrassment.

“You’re lucky to have me. Most big sisters would be so annoyed if their little brother had a crush on their fiance,” she teased him. “I’m just proud you’ve got good taste.”

Aiden knew there was no point in trying to deny anything. His sister had always been a step ahead of him in all walks of life. “Does Gaz know too?” he asked, hoping more than anything else that his sister would spare him further embarrassment.

“Of course he does!” Katy laughed. “You weren’t exactly subtle at the pool party last summer.”

Just as any big sister would, Katy enjoyed seeing her little brother squirm for a few moments, rubbing his face into his hands and wanting the ground to swallow him up.

“It’s okay,” she finally relented. “Gaz loves the attention you give him. I know he was eating especially well at dinner for your benefit, as well as mine. He pushed so hard he’s now missing the game he’s been talking about all week, trying to sleep it off. Serves him right, really!”

Aiden couldn’t deny that he had long suspected his sister of getting some sort of kick out of watching Gaz get so fat. However, the extent to which they were both finding pleasure from it all had genuinely shocked him. “But, how did you guys find each other?” he asked, wondering just how his sister had dropped so lucky.

“I know exactly why you’re asking,” Katy laughed, nodding with pride. “Don’t worry, little bro. You’re prettier than most girls, and college is crawling with boys just waiting to pile on the pounds! Either by accident, or with a little push,” she winked, before looking around at the piles of stuff, all packed and ready for college. “You’re about to have the time of your life!”

A couple of weeks later, Aiden was getting well used to his new life in the dorms. He had a room all to himself and a good group of friends around him; new study buddies, people to go on nights out with, as well as quieter friends to go on walks with. His sister had been right, his pretty face was definitely getting him noticed. Unlike the highly competitive, defensive and hostile relationships of high school, the college campus felt like a breath of fresh air.

“Truth, or Dare?” demanded Jackson, the guy in the room opposite his, as the bottle spun and pointed directly at Aiden, requiring him to take another shot of tequila.

The crowd of people crammed into Aiden’s room gave a low rumble of interest. “Truth,” Aiden smiled, knowing that the truths shared had been the most interesting that evening.

Jackson grinned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, having appointed himself leader of this game. “Okay then!” he smirked. “Tell us, who is your biggest crush!”

The others cheered with interest and looked over at Aiden. Absolutely everyone had been hooking up in the last week. Sex mania had taken over the campus.

Aiden looked up at Jackson, the one who had asked the question, knowing exactly why he had selected that line of enquiry. Jackson, the resident football hunk on this dorm, had practically every girl swooning after him; the guy’s head was swelling by the day with all the women who were throwing themselves at him. And, ever since he had discovered that Aiden was gay, Jackson seemed determined to add the pretty boy to his list of admirers; shamelessly flirting with him, despite having no real interest whatsoever.

“Actually,” Aiden nodded. “That’s something I’ve never told anyone before,” he teased, drawing the crowd in and entertaining them. “And if I tell you all, it could get me in A LOT of trouble!”

“Is he straight?” asked one of them excitedly.

Aiden nodded. “I’m so bad. There’s no way I should be telling any of you this!” he continued to taunt them, enjoying the attention.

“Who is it?” a girl finally squeaked in drunken delight.

Aiden looked around one last time, then up to Jackson himself, right before he crushed the guy’s ego trip. “My sister’s finance,” he finally announced. “She’d never forgive me if she knew,” he lied, “but I am so fucking hot for that guy!”

The crowd delighted in the gossip and chuckled at the awkward situation Aiden found himself in. Then the bottle moved on and the drinks flowed once more.

“We’ll have to come and visit you one weekend,” Katy smiled, as she relaxed with her brother that Thanksgiving. “Gaz and I would love to revisit some of the old places we used to go when we first got together,” she nodded over to her giant fiance, engrossed in the football match on the TV.

“Sure, I’d love to have you both over,” Aiden nodded, feeling excited by the idea.

“How’re things going with your love life?” Katy asked next, taking advantage of the fact that their parents were out of the room. “Are you having fun tasting the giant buffet of fatties the campus has to offer?”

Aiden looked to Gaz in a panic, until he realised that the guy wasn’t listening in on their conversation at all. He was well used to his sister asking quite personal questions, but he wasn’t sure he wanted Gaz to overhear it as well. “A couple,” he shrugged, lowering his voice just in case. “I don’t know… it’s not quite as exciting as I thought it would be. Most of the guys I show an interest in seem to hate their bodies. It’s such a turn off.”

Katy nodded in full agreement. “I’ve been there!” she laughed. “That’s why I hooked up with that kinky little bastard instead,” she nodded over to Gaz, mindlessly stuffing chips into his mouth as he watched the action.

“Grow your own?” Aiden joked.

“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Katy laughed back. “I mean, watch this,” she smirked, grabbing a small pastry from the tray in the middle of the table and throwing it towards Gaz; hitting him on his giant stomach.

Gaz looked at her with interest, finally taking his eyes off the screen. He noticed the pastry and popped it straight into his mouth.

“Who’s a good pig?” Katy teased him.

Gaz grinned, briefly looking at Aiden and recognising him as being one of their gang: the select few who had been informed of the true nature of his and Katy’s kinky relationship. He lifted his shirt a little and grabbed a wedge of his fat, giving it a good jiggle whilst looking Katy straight in the eye. Then he raised his head and oinked quietly: once, twice; checking that the parents were not around to hear.

Katy laughed and smiled proudly, but to Aiden it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. “How do I make a guy do that for me?” he asked his sister.

Aiden was more desperate to learn than ever before.

Katy called from the car as she was parking up on the campus a couple of weeks after the holidays. Aiden went down to meet them just as Gaz was sliding his fat body out of the passenger seat. “It’s so weird to be back!” he laughed, brushing crumbs off his large t-shirt. It was so cold out, Gaz stuck out like a sore thumb, dressed in his sweatshorts. Perhaps that was the point.

Aiden could tell that the place was full of memories for the pair of them as they followed him to the dorm, pointing and commenting at the quiet little meeting spots and giggling with each other. He apologised about the stairs before Gaz had to begin climbing them to get up to Aiden’s room.

Reaching the top, Aiden turned and waited for his sister and Gaz to catch him up. Suddenly, his neighbor, Jackson, strolled out into the corridor, on his way out. He nodded courteously to Aiden and then spotted his sister; his jaw immediately dropping.

“Aiden, buddy!” he smiled. “Do you have some guests?” he suddenly asked, pulling out all of his charm as he saw how attractive Katy was.

Aiden rolled his eyes. Just like every other guy who met his sister, Jackson was clearly interested, and assumed, with staggering arrogance, that her enormous, blubbery fiance was no match for him. The guy had stopped and held out his hand to introduce himself as Aiden’s friend, then accompanied them back upstairs, inviting himself along on the tour; holding doors open for Katy and moving well out of the way before Gaz had to squeeze himself through them.

“Your little brother is super popular in the dorms,” Jackon explained as they went around. “Everyone knows what a good laugh he is,” he smiled.

Again, Aiden rolled his eyes at Jackson’s charm offensive. However, he bit his tongue, knowing that it was all going to be for nothing. Katy and Gaz spoke about some of the people they used to know who lived in the building and, a few minutes later, Jackson was shocked to learn that Gaz had once been part of the same football team that he played for now. He listed off the names of the trainers, barely comprehending that Gaz knew them all as well. “Why don’t you take Gaz on a little tour of the football facilities?” Aiden suggested next, spotting a way to off-load the opportunist. He smirked as Katy agreed what a good idea it was, waving them both off a short while afterwards.

“He’s cute!” Katy whispered, turning her head to get a look at Jackson’s tight butt as he walked just behind the monstrous beast that was her fiance. “And very eager to please!” she chuckled.

“I’m guessing this is the effect you have on most men?” Aiden joked. He knew his sister was pretty, but it was hard to comprehend just how much guys were into her until he witnessed them embarrassingly falling over themselves to try and get her attention.

During their time alone. Katy had discussed the wedding plans in great detail. Everything had been organised and every second of the event accounted for. Aiden would have a list of jobs to do, acting as the usher, and he could tell that Katy was going to hold him accountable for every last one of them.

The boys returned an hour later, laughing and joking as they headed into Aiden’s room. Gaz was pleased by his tour, having bumped into a few of the people he used to know.

“Listen, are you two staying over tonight?” he asked Gaz and Katy together. “You can have my room. I’ll bunk on the floor, in here with Aiden,” he offered kindly.

Aiden was surprised when Katy accepted. They had more than enough money for a hotel, and that had been their plan before heading down here. However, perhaps the kinkiness of one last night in the dorms was getting to them both.

“So that’s the soon-to-be brother in law you have a massive crush on?” Jackson immediately teased Aiden the moment they were alone in his bedroom with his temporary bed made up on the floor.

Aiden sighed, having forgotten that he had ever said that to everyone. Trust Jackson to remember.

“He’s not the obvious choice for a gay crush!” Jackson laughed. “And I’m guessing it’s not just his personality that you’re attracted to. You could hardly keep your eyes off his big gut. And nor could your sister, to be fair” he conceded; seemingly having finally worked out that he didn’t have a hope in seducing her.

“What can I say?” Aiden smirked, deciding his best defence was to own it. “My sister and I have interesting tastes in men.”

“I know what your sister did to him,” Jackson went on. “It took me a little while to piece it together, but the football coaches talk about Gaz all the time. I thought I recognised him the moment I saw him as well, from the pictures we have up by the changing rooms.”

“What do they say?” Aiden asked, surprised. Had Gaz been the true reason why they hadn’t been able to shake Jackson off all afternoon?

“They tell us it’s important to keep focused and not get distracted by girls. They talk about Gaz as a cautionary tale: Gavin Knox, their star athlete who lost every opportunity he had by getting lazy and fat after falling for a girl who liked to overfeed him.”

“They really say that?” Aiden chuckled, feeling oddly proud.

“Oh yeah!” Jackson nodded. “The pair of them are fairly infamous amongst the trainers here. Gone, but definitely not forgotten.”

Aiden nodded. “I’m sure Katy will be delighted when I tell her.”

Jackson pulled off his shirt and lay down on the blow up mattress on the floor. “You know, if you’re still hung up on your sister’s boyfriend, I have a good way to keep you distracted,” he smiled suggestively.

Aiden looked down from his bed. “Oh, really?” he asked, surprised that the football jock was taking his flirtation this far.

“Come on,” he winked, clearly adjusting his erection underneath the bed sheets. You’re horny. I’m horny. You’re hot… I’m super hot!” he grinned. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Aiden considered his options. He was in no way against casual sex, but being just another one of Jackson’s conquests was not something he wanted for himself. He couldn’t be yet another person who had fed into that ego by submitting himself to the football jock. He reached into his drawer and threw a pack of tissues down at him. “Go ahead. Knock yourself out!” he teased, leaning on his side, as if ready to enjoy a spectacle.

Jackson seemed surprised as he held the box of tissues in his hand and realised that was all he was getting. “Are you not joining me?” he asked.

“No. I’m not,” Aiden simply smiled back. “I’ll be watching.”

Clearly a little embarrassed, Jackson slipped his hand down into his underwear and began gently tugging himself. The guy really was horny. Within a short while he was sighing and moaning gently with his eyes closed. He looked across briefly to see if Aiden was still watching him. He was; smiling in amusement. The guy closed his eyes again, but couldn’t help looking across once more, now glancing up and holding Aiden’s stare for the last twenty seconds or so. He came, quite powerfully by the sounds of things, still having to suffer Aiden’s watchful eye as he cleaned himself up with the tissues.

The next morning, Jackson was more charming than ever with Katy and Gaz. He’d left Aiden’s room early to head to the gym but had returned just as everyone was up and chatting in the kitchen area. They thanked him for letting them use his room and Jackson even drove Gaz to a bar where they could watch the football game whilst Aiden was subjected to more of Katy’s wedding preparations; driving from store to store in his sister’s swanky new company car.

“Thanks for your help this weekend,” Aiden smiled sincerely at Jackson, as Katy and Gaz drove off at last that evening. “I’m sorry if we took up so much of your time.”

“I enjoyed myself,” Jackson shrugged. “They’re a fun couple and Gaz really knows his stuff when it comes to playing football.”

“Did he give you some good tips?” Aiden laughed, finding it difficult to imagine Gaz in any sort of sporting context these days.

“He gave me some good advice, yeah,” Jackson nodded. “But the weekend isn’t over quite yet. So… maybe I don’t have to go back to my own room…” he teased.

Aiden enjoyed the power he seemed to have inherited. In not giving into the handsome boy, he’d somehow ensured that the guy had never wanted him more. “Goodnight, Jackson,” he laughed, striding back up to his dorm room, alone.

As the day finally came, Gaz and Katy’s wedding had been one that none of them would ever forget. Katy had been the ultimate bridezilla from the moment she woke up that morning. But as the ceremony ended and everyone settled into the meal and speeches, the tone had at last started to relax.

Gaz had clearly been on some super fattening diet for the last couple of weeks, given how enormous his face had become. It was more than obvious that Katy had been the one to choose the fit of his suit. Gaz had never looked so irresistibly spherical in his entire life. Their father had done a passable job at a congratulations speech, officially welcoming Gaz into their family, whether he really wanted him or not. Likewise, Gaz;s best man had done an amazing speech that made everyone laugh. Katy had been delighted with the choice; toned, trim and muscular, the guy was doing an incredible job of making Gaz look even fatter as he stood next to him in so many of the pictures.

“Jeez! Your sister’s new in-laws absolutely hate her!” whispered a deep, quiet voice behind Aiden as he took a brief moment on the balcony of the hotel bar for a quick breather from the wedding party.

“Jackson?” Aiden blasted in disbelief before he even turned around. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Gaz invited me when they were over a few weekends ago,” he smiled, holding up the invitation for the evening party. “I would have told you, but you’ve been avoiding me…” he teased. “However, may I just say… you look so fucking hot in that suit tonight,” he growled, moving in closer so that his hands were resting on Aiden’s hips.

“Still trying to collect me, huh?” Aiden smirked sceptically, looking down at the liberty Jackson was taking in touching him like this.

“You have to know how into you I am,” Jackson whispered, sliding his hands back onto Aiden’s butt and leaning in until their hot breath met. It was clear from the scent of beer on Jackson’s breath that he had been drinking a little to give him the courage to be so forward.

“I know,” Aiden whispered back, starting to enjoy this fumbling attempt at a seduction. But the temptation to torture him by refusing once more was still so strong.

“I’ve been mad about you for months,” Jackson went on. “Then, when you made me climax, just by looking at me like that…”

Aiden chuckled at the memory of that evening and then a very gentle kiss ensued between the two of them.

“I’d do anything for you…” Jackson whispered afterwards, before heading in for a second round.

“Erm, Aiden?” interrupted his father, awkwardly stepping out onto the balcony. “Is there someone you want to introduce me to?” he asked in his typically intrusive manner.

Instinctively, Jackson pulled back and stood to attention, as if he was a new army recruit. “You’re Aiden and Katy’s father,” he stated clearly, holding out his large hand to shake. “It’s so nice to meet you, Sir.”

Aiden’s father took the hand and shook it firmly. “You’re a strong lad,” he declared after a second. “Football, I’m guessing?”

“Yes, Sir,” Jackson nodded, eager to please.

“So, are you two… dating?” he asked next, looking curiously between the pair of them.

“No,” Aiden answered calmly, finding Jackson’s newfound respectful manner with his father to be one of the most hilarious spectacles he had seen all year.

“Not yet!” Jackson added optimistically. “But I’m pretty crazy about your son, Sir.”

“Enough!” sighed Aiden, taking Jackson’s hand and laughing as he led him away from his intrusive father and onto the dancefloor. Jackson wasn’t a natural dancer but he tried his best for Aiden, who made it seem so effortless. A little while afterwards, a sweaty, overfed Gaz headed over to greet the new arrival, hugging him like the pair of them had bonded more than Aiden realised during that weekend.

“I’m pleased you could make it,” Gaz smiled. His large, but very fitted shirt had come untucked, the buttons obviously straining now his tie had been taken off; his stomach bloated on too much food and beer. “I see you took my advice,” he chuckled, glancing back at Aiden like he had noticed how closely they had been dancing. “Listen, there’s a load of freshly cut wedding cake over there,” he continued explaining to the football jock, shouting loudly above the noise of the music. Then he tapped him on his tight, muscular glutes in the way that sports players always seemed so surprisingly comfortable doing.”Go pig-out.”

Gaz’s parents interrupted them, explaining that they were leaving already, despite the fact that it had only just turned eight. Then the drunk Gaz went in for a hug with both of them; with large pools of sweat on show under his armpits. The older couple merely waved at Aiden, having decided some time ago that he was cut from the same cloth as their loathsome new daughter-in-law.

Jackson took Aiden’s hand and led him over to where the cake had been cut and laid out. “Why’d they cut the slices so small?” he chuckled, picking up five of them and stacking them onto his plate to make a very decent wedge, which the jock soon began devouring.

“What was that about, with Gaz?” Aiden asked, having been surprised by the unlikely friendship between them both.

“We’ve just been messaging each other these last few weeks,” Jackson explained. “He’s very good at giving advice.”

“About what?” Aiden shot back.

But Jackson’s attention was elsewhere. “Jeez, they’re all off!” he commented, too busy noticing the queue of Gaz’s family lining up to say goodbye to him as they left early. “Not one of them has even acknowledged your sister yet,” he pointed, as they all slipped away; ignoring Katy as she was distracted, talking to her friends on another table.

Aiden chuckled. “Katy’s a big girl. She can take it!” he smirked.

“I must say,” Jackson smiled, picking up one of the many pictures of the couple dotted around the room. “These are a nice, antagonistic touch,” he joked, clearly referring to the fact that the photos of the newlyweds were all from at least four and a half years ago, when Gaz was still fit and athletic.

Aiden nodded and grinned. “My sister certainly has a very warped sense of humor!” he laughed. “You should have seen how blatantly she was feeding Gaz his dessert earlier.”

“Oh, don’t you worry. I heard all about that when I got here,” Jackson nodded. “Your sister certainly knows how to make an impression.” He put down his plate of cake crumbs and reached in to squeeze Aiden affectionately around his waist. “Gaz is a lucky man,” he whispered.

With a beer in his hand later that evening, Jackson sat back in a chair and pulled Aiden in so that the pretty boy could perch himself on his knee. He rested his large hand delicately on Aiden’s hip; his touch being the greatest of all his love languages.

Several family members came over to meet the strapping new man who was obviously so smitten with Aiden. Rather than trying to tear Aiden away to his hotel room for sex, Jackson appeared to just enjoy being there, lavishing gentle affection on the boy he had been quietly in love with for some time, and meeting everyone who was important in his life. It was all so intimate and sexy; a new experience for them both. When they did finally make it back to Aiden’s room, the gentle sex that followed was the most connected that either of them had ever felt to another person.

The next morning, Aiden awoke with the strapping young man gently spooning him from behind. Aiden wanted nothing more than to stay there in bed with him all day, but check-out was at eleven and Katy had already messaged him with a stack of chores, gathering up the bits and pieces from the wedding the night before and distributing them amongst the family to take with them in their cars.

“Katy, there’s no sign of the guest book,” Aiden explained, entering the honeymoon suite with his newfound personal assistant, Jackson. The muscular guy spotted a grotesquely obese Gaz sat up on the bed in only his underwear; fat bulging and spilling in every direction. He headed straight over to greet him, then sat in the chair, catching up on all of the football highlights on TV from the games they had both missed the night before.

“Don’t worry. Mom’s got that,” Katy stated.

Aiden breathed a sigh of relief. His final task had been taken care of. He looked around the room, seeing copious amounts of dirty plates and bowls from room service. “I can see you’ve been having some fun this morning,” he chuckled.

“I could say the same about you last night,” Katy smiled, nodding towards Jackson, still dressed in his suit from the night before.

Aiden smiled back. He didn’t really understand any of this himself and so he quickly changed the subject. “Where has this friendship suddenly come from?” he asked, pointing towards the two vastly contrasting boys, laughing and joking at what they were watching on TV.

Katy sighed and rolled her eyes. “I know!” she chuckled. “They’ve been messaging like crazy. Boring boy stuff mostly. Lots about you, of course. And about Jackson wanting to quit football.”

“He wants to quit football?” Aiden asked. “Since when?”

Katy shrugged with mild disinterest. “I guess you need to talk to Jackson.” She sighed, quickly losing interest in him, like only a sister could. “Anyway,” she declared, throwing her hands out like it was time to disperse. “Off you go! We need our alone time.”

Aiden bit his tongue; resisting the urge to explain just how much he had been running after her all morning. “Come on, Jackson,” he called. “We’d better go check out anyway.” He could see that the pair of them were quite engrossed in their conversation. However, their discussion paused the moment that Aiden stood, waiting for him.

“Give me a call if you manage to get tickets,” Jackson nodded to his friend, fist pumping as they parted.

“Just send me a message anytime you need to chat,” Gaz offered kindly as Katy ushered them both out.

“So, you guys are like, best friends now?” Aiden asked suspiciously as he and Jackson headed down in the elevator after grabbing Aiden’s bags from his room. He couldn’t quite understand the quiet little jealousy that he felt. Despite crushing on Gaz for years, he’d never managed to connect with him in the way that Jackson seemed to be able to do so effortlessly. Gaz was a typical man’s man, preferring the company of other sports and beer loving guys whenever he wasn’t being fattened by his wife.

“He’s a great guy,” Jackson shrugged, turning into Aiden to kiss him; not wanting to waste a single private moment together. “Gaz and I have got a lot in common,” he smiled as the elevator doors opened once more and they were both thrown into the busy lobby area. “I’ll catch you back on the campus later,” he smiled, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and leaning in for a final kiss; leaving Aiden with more questions than answers.

After being dragged out to lunch with his aunts before they headed off to the airport and home, Aiden arrived back on the campus late and went straight to bed. He woke up the next morning with his alarm screaming at him, then raced down the campus to his first class of the day. But, by the time he made it back to the dorm, he was greeted by several people all standing around, gossiping.

“Did you hear? The whole campus is up in arms about it. Jackson quit the football team!”

Aiden’s jaw dropped, kicking himself that he hadn’t asked Jackson about this the moment he heard that the athlete was considering quitting. “But, why? He’s the star player!” he shot back.

Jackson strolled into the kitchen looking very pleased with himself a little later on. He’d clearly had people asking him all day about why he had made such a drastic decision.

“What about your scholarship?” blasted one person, after Jackson had stated assertively to them all that his mind was made up.

“Already taken care of,” Jackson replied calmly. He spotted Aiden in the corner and smiled. “Hello,” he mouthed; his eyes dancing with delight. “Want to go for a walk?”

Aiden looked around at the confused faces, then stepped forwards and took Jackson’s hand, registering the gasps of surprise as the pair of them walked away. He’d never felt butterflies in his stomach like this before and hadn’t ever imagined that he would feel so overwhelmed by the idea of dating someone like Jackson.

“So, I’m guessing there is more to this than meets the eye?” Aiden finally asked, as the pair of them side-stepped another bunch of people further down the corridor and sought refuge in Aiden’s room.

“Not really,” Jackson smiled, kissing his boy. “I’ve wanted this for a long time. I’ve just never been able to express it until I met you. And I don’t want to go through what Gaz went through, getting fat and still keeping up the pretence of being an athlete; training and playing games.”

“Hold up!” Aiden shrieked. “Getting fat?”

“Of course,” Jackson nodded. “I’ve wanted it for as long as I can remember. I just thought I was some sort of freak, until I talked it over with Gaz that weekend.” He removed his shirt and threw it on the floor. “This isn’t who I am,” he pointed at his chiselled stomach, grabbing at the skin where no fat hit underneath it. “I’m not supposed to be this way. I’ve just been pushed along by other people, simply because I had a little bit of talent growing up.”

Jackson turned and walked to gaze at his reflection in Aiden’s mirror. He flexed his stomach muscles and tensed his bicep. Aiden watched him from behind, already permitting himself to imagine those perky glutes starting to swell with fat.

“Gaz described it best to me,” Jackson continued, turning around to face Aiden. “It’s just this longing inside you… this desire to be a great big fat pig!”

Aiden could see the arousal in Jackson’s gym shorts as he was saying these things, and he felt utterly speechless at the revelations about the boy he had spent months being so apathetic about. “You know who’s going to get all the blame for you quitting football,” he sighed, realising that he was about to become a lot less popular around campus.

“It had to be done. I need to commit,” Jackson smiled. “I talked it through for ages with Gaz. Not quitting football right away was the only thing he regretted.”

“Then, when you start getting chubby… when the love handles start to form and your tight little butt swells out… who do you think they will all be pointing the finger at?” he asked, trying to hold back a smile.

Jackson moaned and reached in to pull Aiden closer to him. “Oh, fuck! That’s so hot!” he whispered. “They’ll say you turned me into a pig!”

“And they’d be right,” Aiden nodded in complete agreement, allowing himself to get swept up in the horny jock’s kisses. Was this it? Was he really about to embark upon his ultimate fantasy? “I’ll have you oinking in no time!”

With that, Jackson slipped off his shorts and pants in one fast movement, pulling Aiden down onto the bed, making love even more passionately than last time.

“Come on, get it all down!” Aiden insisted a few days later as Jackson tried to complete the enormous, thick shake that his boyfriend had made for him. It wasn’t the best recipe and was far too sweet, but they were still both learning.

Jackson swallowed some more and then stopped, wincing at the taste. There was still at least one third to go and the immense amount of effort it was going to take was etched all over his handsome face. He burped up some gas and groaned a little, rubbing his tight middle even though his stomach muscles still pushed through under the skin. “It’s just so… thick,” the naked boy mumbled. Despite the effort, his hardness was still pushing up to the ceiling of Aiden’s bedroom. Ever since Jackson had committed to this, his erection had hardly left him.

“You want to be a big fat pig though, don’t you?” Aiden teased, grabbing onto Jackson’s boner and massaging it up and down so that the horny boy’s eyes rolled back into his head. He moaned, then threw his head back and continued to swallow until the thick, gloopy shake was all gone.

Jackson rubbed his painfully stretched stomach, now completely packed with absolutely everything they had bought that evening. Even his breathing sounded laboured. “Fuck!” he grumbled. “I really hope that stuff gets rid of my six pack soon.”

Aiden laughed, knowing exactly what he’d blended together to make the fattening shake. “Trust me, if that can’t manage it, nothing will!”

Unlike Gaz, Jackson didn’t fall asleep after a stuffing. He found it difficult to ignore the stretch of the bloat and sat up in Aiden’s bed watching comedies, trying to distract himself as the abundance of calories set to work on transforming his body. Now that Jackson had been stripped of all the things Aiden had disliked about the boy: his ego, idiot jock buddies and womanising nature, Aiden could at last see the reasons why the football hunk had been so certain that they were perfect for each other. They shared the same sense of humor, had the same interests in music and movies; not forgetting that, sexually, they were more compatible than two people ever could be.

Jackson’s weight gain wasn’t especially noticeable at first. It began with a gentle softening of his immaculately toned body and grew from there. Within a few weeks, the boy’s stomach was decidedly bloated and thicker looking, whilst his face appeared ever so slightly fuller. Their friends had disapproved of how insular and boring they had both become, always electing to spend time alone together, rather than going out to the bars with them like they used to. Despite the several different calorie shakes Aiden whipped up quietly in the kitchen, they couldn’t see yet what was being done to Jackson; even into the small hours of the night.

Jackson was obsessed with his own body. He admired it constantly in the mirror as he started to carry a little extra weight on his sides. Aiden had never seen the guy’s dick get so hard than when he pinched and gently jiggled those first little, hard-earned pouches of fat.

“I think it’s time we showed this off, don’t you?” Aiden asked one morning as the late Spring sun poured in through his window. “The six pack has gone, the love handles are blossoming and your glutes are finally swelling up.”

Jackson looked across at him with a little shock. “You mean, go outside sunbathing? Without a shirt on?”

“I was thinking more of a picnic,” Aiden chuckled, ever the opportunist. “You could wear those old gym shorts that pinch your hips now.”

Despite having climaxed only a couple of minutes before, Jackson immediately became aroused again. Finally, after weeks and weeks of gorging, he was at last ready to be shown off.

A thin tire of fat slid around Jackson’s waist as he sat on the grass outside, eating the piles of sandwiches and pastries Aiden provided. He sipped on sodas and beers as people came up to them to chat; each one dutifully trying not to stare at the remarkable softening that had taken place upon Jackson’s physique. At one point, some of the boys came out and asked him to throw a ball around with them, which Jackson immediately refused, feeling too bloated and aroused to move and often having to reposition the picnic bag in front of his crotch.

“How long do you think it will be until I start getting my first comments about this weight gain?” Jackson asked his handsome lover, hidden behind his large sunglasses.

“A few more weeks,” Aiden stated after a short consideration. “Eat hard this summer and we can have a decent gut on you by the time we’re back on campus in the Fall. You can start the second year as a proper fatty.”

Aiden knew that Jackson appreciated straight talk. If he wasn’t eating enough, or if he was complaining too much about being full, he wanted to be told. But, likewise, he got off on the blunt way that Aiden would describe the future. What Jackson had embarked upon would alter everything in his life: his body, his appetite, his energy levels; not forgetting the ways in which people would perceive and approach him in future. A fat man’s experience was very different to the reverence that Jackson had received so far. He needed to be ready for it.

That summer, Jackson spent the entire time at Aiden’s parents’ place, seeing as it was so much quieter than his own family home. Aiden had a lot more privacy, utilising the compact apartment above the garage, practically moving in for the whole of the break from college.

“Here it comes,” Aiden’s dad grumbled as he looked out of the window and saw his daughter’s enormous new car pulling up on the drive. “Jeez! What the hell does he look like?” he continued, peering at the giant Gaz rocking his fat body to get out from the passenger seat. “Doesn’t he realise we can all see his belly falling out of that t-shirt?”

Jackson and Aiden gave each other a mischievous look. Despite the thicker appearance of Aiden’s new boyfriend, his father had yet to work out that he would soon be acquiring another very obese son-in-law in the future.

Gaz strolled through the front yard, casting a giant shadow through the window as he moved towards the front door. Many months had gone by since the wedding and extended honeymoon, with Katy’s new husband now looking significantly flabbier and softer as he trotted about with a slight waddle. Meanwhile, Katy looked, if anything, even younger and more attractive in her flashy designer clothes, funded by the remarkable pay she earned in her latest position at her company.

After dinner, all four of them retreated to the garage apartment where they could speak more freely and joke about how Aiden and Katy’s father had been eyeing his fat, greedy son-in-law the entire time during dinner; begrudging him every enormous mouthful he took. “He didn’t even notice that Jackson was eating just as much!” Katy laughed. “How much have you packed on so far?” she asked her brother’s boyfriend with interest.

“Forty pounds,” Jackson replied dutifully.

Katy looked at her husband and squinted her eyes, trying to recall when Gaz was first fattening up. “That sounds about right for this stage,” she nodded. “There’s a fair amount of muscle loss in those first few months, I remember.”

Aiden, who had spent much of his time bouncing and jiggling Jackson’s swollen glutes, nodded and laughed in full agreement.

“I’ve managed to find a place for you both to live next year. I have a few contacts in the city,” Katy went on. “I’ll cover the rent. It’s a complete steal anyway. Plus, it will give you guys more money to fund the gains.”

Aiden and Jackson gasped with surprise at her generosity: their own private apartment!

“It’s fine,” Katy smiled back. “It’s just the sort of thing I would have found most useful when I was in college, trying to fatten this piggy on a budget,” she laughed, caressing the rather extreme fat at the back of her husband’s neck. “And if you can keep those grades up from this first year,” she added sternly to Aiden, “I’ll have a position ready and waiting for you at my company. It’s all worked into my five-year plan,” she nodded in her typically efficient and organised manner.

Suddenly, with Katy’s help, the path towards the future looked so effortless and simple. Once the lights inside the main house went off, they ordered in pizza and Chinese, letting Gaz and Jackson playfully compete with each other and gorge themselves until the early hours. There was much to be celebrated.

As the summer began to roll away, Aiden knew that he would have to accompany Jackson back to his own family at some point, before college started back up.

“They’re going to be so pissed about what I’ve done,” Jackson grumbled, patting the thickness that had amassed on his stomach. “They pushed me so much to follow football. They were so happy when I got the sports scholarship, and now look at me!”

Aiden sighed, realising why Jackson’s appetite hadn’t been quite as ravenous in the last few days. The boy could give up sports, indulge and appreciate his swelling body without a care about what anyone else thought. But family, that was always different.

“Who said that you’re responsible for any of this?” Aiden asked, playfully grabbing a wedge of Jackson’s new belly fat. “As far I can tell, you’re just a nice boy who got ensnared by one of those awful feeder-types,” he joked.

Jackson smiled sweetly, but his nerves were still evident.

“I’m serious!” Aiden laughed. “You’ve got to stop thinking of yourself as being the master of your own destiny here. You’re the poor little victim!” he joked. “You fell for some pretty boy with a wicked, coercive personality; making you get fatter and fatter so that no one else will take you away from him.”

“Is that what you think my parents will assume?” Jackson chuckled. “That this is all your fault?”

“Of course they will,” Aiden laughed. “ It’s exactly what happened to Katy as well. A golden child like you, or Gaz, would never do something like this on purpose!” he smirked, squeezing Jackson’s cute chubbier cheek.

“That’s not really fair on you though, is it?”

Aiden shrugged playfully. “Are you sure about that? Without me, this little fat belly wouldn’t be here at all, would it?”

“I suppose not,” Jackson smiled, looking up gratefully at his lover. “But I’m glad that it is.”

“Well then, stop worrying. Every story needs a villain. I’ve got this one covered.”

The week-long visit to see Jackson’s family was predictably awful. As soon as the guy’s parents saw their boy, Aiden felt an immediate wave of hostility heading his way. In contrast to the privacy they had enjoyed all summer, here Jackson’s family regularly went into the small bedroom they shared, organising a family intervention meeting as soon as they discovered the many empty snack wrappers and empty bottles of soda. Aiden had not been invited.

“What did they say?” Aiden asked as soon as Jackson made it back to the bedroom that evening.

“They’re pissed,” Jackson sighed. “Super pissed. I tried to defend you, but they’re adamant that you’re a bad influence on me. They don’t want us moving in together next semester.”

Aiden chuckled. “Well, that’s just too bad for them,” he smiled, tapping the bed for his overfed lover to sit down next to him.

“They made it clear that they’re going to be keeping a careful eye on what I eat whilst I’m here, and they want me to sign up for something sporting when I go back to college.”

“That’s fine,” Aiden nodded. “I’ve been looking into some eating contests I want to enter you into anyway.”

At this, Jackson couldn’t help but laugh. “How come you’re so laid back about all this?” he asked; visibly relaxing more as he settled into Aiden’s company.

“Because, if they think you’re fat now… they’re in for a real surprise in a few more months.”

Jackson turned into him and kissed him, growling with horny excitement. “Mmm, yeah!” he whispered. “It’s hard to imagine getting fatter; being here; getting told off for everything I put into my mouth.”

“I feel very sorry for them, I do,” Aiden agreed. “It’s so obvious that they don’t want a fat piggy for a son. But that’s not going to stop me.”

“I can’t see me gaining any weight this week,” Jackson replied apologetically.

Aiden laughed and shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he grinned. “No one backs a guy like me into a corner. In fact, I think this will be your highest calorie week to date.”

Jackson laughed. “What did you have in mind?” he asked; his new hardness starting to push into Aiden’s thigh.

Aiden smirked, starting to formulate a plan in his head. “If your family think I’m a monster… I’ll give them a monster. I’ll be their worst nightmare.”

The key to Aiden’s success over the next few days was in making sure the pair of them had a good reason to leave the house each day. Given that they were under such scrutiny, he had to use that time wisely to ensure that it was used effectively. Drinking a gallon of full fat milk was an old-fashioned technique to weight gain, but also very effective. Not only would it give Jackson a huge, fattening daily boost, but it would also train his capacity for the months to come. Time was so limited, the pressure on Jackson to get the milk down was intense as they sat together in a supermarket parking lot.

“Come on, we’ve got ten minutes until we need to start heading back,” Aiden reminded his lover as he got back in the car and saw that Jackson was still only half way through his gallon. There was always some excuse for why they needed to be back home at a certain time; never more than an hour until Jackson’s suffocating family needed them back under their supervision. Even when Aiden lied and told them they were going for a hike, the time limits never eased up.

Jackson burped and rubbed his bloated stomach. “It seriously hurts,” he grumbled, despite the serious hardness that was laying against his thigh.

“No pain, no gain,” Aiden replied mercilessly. He allowed Jackson a little more time to push himself as hard as he could, then poured out the water from the bottles they had taken with them for their supposed hike, then decanted the remaining milk into them; perfectly disguised.

It worked surprisingly well. Despite his large bloat, Jackson would always return looking sluggish and sweaty; genuinely needing to sit down, like he had really just been on a big hike. However, the suspicion on Aiden was always there. Not that Jackson’s family would ever dare to call him out on it to his face. Instead, they whispered behind his back and pulled Jackson aside to express their concerns. Aiden smirked and decided to enjoy the experience as their house guest nonetheless: the generous hospitality, eating their food, monopolising their large TV in the lounge; all the while secretly fattening up their pride and joy.

“Piggy, wake up!” Aiden whispered as quietly as he could into Jackson’s ear at night. “Piggy, come on now!”

Groggily, Jackson would stir in the darkness; his nose detecting the scent of something that needed eating. “Is that peanut butter?” he asked, just about making out a spoon close to his face.

“Shh, Piggy!” Aiden whispered, almost inaudibly, delivering the first piled spoonful once Jackson sat up slightly. This was one of the only things he had managed to sneak back into the house during their supermarket trip. He felt a little guilty, knowing that this wasn’t the nicest peanut butter available. But it was packed full of calories and was the only one he could find in a plastic jar so that he could scrape around inside it in the dead of night without making any noise.

After a minute or so, Aiden passed Jackson the jar and threw off the bed sheets, slipping a hand into the guy’s underwear, massaging the throbbing hardness that always came during these feeding sessions in the middle of the night. It wasn’t just the food or the inevitable weight gain it would cause that was arousing Jackson tonight; it was the knowledge that he was being fattened by someone as ruthless and scheming as Aiden. Someone who could smile politely to his parents’ face, then do this to him behind their backs. He’d moan softly, knowing that he would soon be allowed to climax as the end of the jar approached, then be shushed and reminded about just how naughty they were being.

After the horny boy came at last, Aiden smiled with satisfaction, using a cleaning wipe to mop up around the guy’s handsome face and ensuring he lay back down. He stroked his sweaty head until sleep came to find him once more, allowing the calories inside his little pig’s body to set to work.

Aiden was sure to hide all the evidence of their feeds, working with incredible stealth the entire week to ensure that he was never caught. Whenever Jackson’s family turned their backs, something was being done to their boy: pushing treats high in calories into his mouth, grabbing or jiggling the light fat on his body and whispering into his ear to get him hard and horny to eat later.

Despite this, Jackson was made to feel utterly miserable by his family the rest of the time. The parents really had no idea that they were playing into Aiden’s hands so well, setting the boy’s mind with a defiance and determination that he was going to eat and gorge himself into obesity as soon as he made it back to college. They had given Aiden and Jackson a common enemy that they could bond together against. So, when the end of the week finally arrived, Aiden knew that it had been one of the most productive periods of his and Jackson’s entire relationship. He said his goodbye to Jackson’s parents and older siblings, knowing that he hadn’t made any real connections with any of them. Then he climbed into Jackson’s car, waving them all off, both of them breathing a sigh of relief as they made it to the freeway. Freedom at last.

Later the next day, the two boys were very happy to be moving into their new apartment close to the campus. Everything was finally settling into place and a week of pure gluttony followed. As their student loans came through, the cupboards were packed full of everything needed to grow. The time coincided with the revelation that Jackson’s large pecs were at last starting to succumb to the weight gain; growing noticeably softer and more sensitive. Just as they had both hoped, the reactions of their friends were every bit as arousing as they had imagined. Jackson’s ex teammates seemed to feel no shame in grabbing and poking the guy’s new blubber as if it was all some big joke, caused simply by the lack of exercise now that he no longer trained. Their assumptions were all so beautifully sweet and innocent; before the blubber would become more extreme and concerning to them all; before they really realised what was really being done to the ex football player.

Once that initial coat of fat had been developed over Jackson’s toned body, the softening began to increase with remarkable speed. Fat built upon fat, rounding Jackson out to give him a genuine belly; the prize that they had long been working towards.

“Are you ever going to wear a shirt again?” Aiden joked; getting home and seeing Jackson playing with his jiggly tummy as he sat eating potato chips by the TV.

Jackson smirked, getting up and walking over to check out the things Aiden had picked up from the supermarket after his class; the fat in his middle bouncing gently as he sluggishly stomped across the room. He’d wanted the ice cream right away, but Aiden had insisted on letting it melt so that it would be easier and faster for Jackson to take down later. The chubby boy nuzzled into him, always so ridiculously horny after he’d been playing with his own belly. In the end, he was only pacified by a large box of cookies being handed to him.

“You’ve got that assignment to finish tonight, haven’t you?” Aiden asked, setting to making his lover a rather large dinner, before he too would have to pull out his laptop to continue working. Unlike last year when he had merely excelled at all his assignments, this year, Aiden was making as much of a name for himself as his sister had before him. He’d been offered a fast-track degree, completing his course in three years, instead of the full four; an offer that he could not turn down. However, the added pressure and workload had meant he’d dropped the ball on ensuring Jackson was keeping up with his own course in the same way as he had last year.

“I’ll do it later,” Jackson sighed dismissively, more interested in running his fingers along the soft roll of fat that overhung his waistband as he sat in front of the TV.

Aiden rolled his eyes. As much as he loved having such a fat and lazy boyfriend, it was stressful trying to get him organised. Someone on Jackson’s course had referred to him as ‘chubby’ last week, sending the ex-jock into a horny, fever-driven eating binge that lasted for days and left him very far behind on everything else. But it wasn’t Aiden’s job to organise every part of Jackson’s life, he reasoned, melting down an entire stick of butter for Jackson’s macaroni and cheese dinner. This was one problem the fat boy would have to sort out himself.

It was another week later, as Aiden got home, carrying another full bag of groceries, that he noticed something was wrong with Jackson. Even as he began unpacking his bags filled with fattening treats, his greedy lover hadn’t come over to check out what had been bought for him. Even more surprising, he was wearing his t-shirt and even his dirty sneakers hadn’t been kicked off his large feet yet.

“I got kicked off my course,” Jackson finally admitted. “They found out I’ve been using some software to write my last few assignments,” he mumbled. “Zero tolerance.”

Aiden gritted his teeth and sat down next to him, unsure how to take the news. In one way, life would be easier for him now that he didn’t have to stress about Jackson’s college work. The worst had now happened. But, on the other hand, Jackson’s student loan payments would soon stop and Aiden knew that the chub’s parents would be straight down to see him the moment they found out he’d messed up so badly. “Come on then,” he sighed, getting up from his seat and heading over to the kitchen. “We’ll have to get all this food eaten,” he declared, opening the over-packed cupboards and starting to pull things out. “If your mom is here this weekend, she can’t see any of this.”

“All of it?” Jackson asked, looking a little daunted.

“It’s not my fault!” Aiden grumbled back. “You’re the one who got us into this mess, remember.” He started organising it all into what could be eaten up by Jackson across the week: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. Perhaps, if they arrived later, there might be some room to get a little more of it eaten on Saturday morning too. “Well, don’t just sit there!” Aiden sighed, throwing a huge bag of toffee popcorn over to his boyfriend. “Make yourself useful and get started!”

Aiden ensured that he was very busy that weekend, heading to the library to give Jackson some time with his parents whilst they outlined, in very specific detail, exactly how he had disappointed them. This visit had worried him all week. Despite Jackson’s love and lust for their life together, the boy’s parents held a very powerful spell over him. He wouldn’t put it past them to insist their boy came straight home with them. That’s why getting Jackson a job had been Aiden’s priority before they arrived, with the lazy boy begrudgingly accepting a role within the campus on-site security team. Having an income, Aiden had reasoned, would go some way to ensuring his parents that Jackson had some sort of plan for life after college. Aiden dressed his boyfriend in his loosest fitting clothes and got the hell out of the way; happy to avoid most of the inevitable shit show.

It was nearly six by the time Aiden headed back to the apartment. He’d made his usual trip to the supermarket; this time picking up fruit and vegetables, alongside low fat yoghurts and milk; all part of the weekend’s charade. He slipped into the lounge area to quietly greet them both and offer a cup of coffee, making sure the stick of celery was highly visible in the shopping bag he was still holding. Unsurprisingly, they were both short with him and made it clear that they wanted to speak to Jackson on his own. Aiden looked up at his lover, seeing how utterly miserable he looked.

Aiden ground his teeth in annoyance as he headed back to the kitchen. The sooner they left, the better! Nobody wanted them here anyway.

Just then, the buzzer sounded, with someone waiting downstairs. Jackson hadn’t dared to order take-out whilst his parents were there, had he?

“Hello! It’s us!” sang Katy’s voice. “We’ve come to surprise you!”

Aiden’s eyes popped wide open. He’d been bugging his sister for weeks to come over and see the new apartment. But why now? “Jackson’s parents are here!” he mumbled nervously, not particularly wanting to buzz them in.

“Oh, lovely!” Katy shot back, oblivious. “Ah! Someone is just coming out. We’ll see you in a second!”

“No, wait!” Aiden tried to shout back, but it was already too late.

A brief knock came at the door seconds later and in strolled Katy with the enormous Gaz behind her; both of them carrying giant bags of food.

“I’m so sorry!” Aiden exclaimed, ignoring his sister and racing into the living room as fast as he could. “My sister and her husband have arrived.” He looked across at Jackson, expecting him to be annoyed by the intrusion during this sensitive time, but instead, his face lit up in delight. He jumped off his seat and headed out of sight to greet them both.

“Mom, Dad, this is Katy, Aiden’s sister,” Jackson explained as Katy suddenly appeared from around the corner, waving politely. “And this is her husband, my best buddy, Gaz.”

It never got dull, watching people’s jaws drop whenever they saw the size of Aiden’s brother-in-law. Gaz trotted in, making for the couch. “Budge up!” the gruff boy ordered, already knowing that it was going to be a squeeze to fit him on there alongside Jackson’s slender mom and dad. He hovered his wide, hippo-like backside for a moment, just giving the pair enough time to frantically slide to the side, then he dropped his enormous body down and sighed in relief that the couch hadn’t buckled underneath him. “That’s better!” he smiled, grunting as he reached for the TV remote and put the football on, with no intention of making boring small talk.

“Who brought the ice queen?” Katy joked as she headed into the kitchen with Aiden. “Judging by the look on her face, I’m guessing she’s not seen Jackson since his tits started coming in?”

“I was hoping it wouldn’t be too obvious with that t-shirt,” Aiden whispered back.

“Oh, honey, no!” Katy laughed. “There’s no hiding those things. His double chin is really starting to look good too as well, huh?” she smiled. “You’re doing an awesome job!”

“I don’t think Jackson’s parents see it quite that way. Jackson’s just been kicked out of college!”

“That’s why we came,” Katy nodded, having already heard all about it from Gaz. She began unloading the bags she and Gaz had brought in with them, filled with tasty treats that would soon refill the cupboards and refrigerator. “We thought we could cheer up old Fatso in there,” she smirked.

Aiden felt a knot of worry in his stomach.

“I didn’t know you got a new pet rabbit,” Katy teased, chuckling at the contents of Aiden’s own solitary shopping bag. The girl had definitely arrived with her own agenda. “I’m ordering in some Chinese,” she announced to them all, heading into the living room next and standing behind the couch. She leaned over her husband’s vast shoulders, kissed the back of his sweaty head and rested her arms on his enormous chest. “I know Gaz wants the banquet feast,” she declared proudly. “What about everyone else?”

Jackson’s parents immediately refused, looking decidedly awkward.

“What about you, Jackson?” Katy asked. “You’re not going to make my husband eat all by himself, are you?”

“Actually, Jackson is trying to cut down a little,” his mother replied for him.

At this, Gaz laughed mockingly. “You’re not, are you?” he asked Jackson, summoning all the teenage peer pressure that he could. “Are you going on a diet?” he teased, pretending to find the notion to be nothing short of hilarious.

Jackson shrugged, flushing with a little embarrassment. “Not really,” he replied, glancing awkwardly to the side at his parents.

“Order him the same as me,” Gaz instructed his wife. “He almost finished it all last time.”

Katy nodded. “Good idea. We’ll also qualify for the discount if we order over a certain amount.”

All eyes seemed to fall on Aiden, waiting for him to speak next. This process of encouragement had been like a relay race, with the baton being passed from Gaz, to Katy, and now onto him. He swallowed awkwardly. “I suppose we will need to think about beefing you up now you’ve got your new security job,” he nodded at his boyfriend. “Order him some fries on the side as well,” he instructed his sister, finding his confidence once more. “He loves the fries from there.”

Even more sour faced, Jackson’s parents sat back, outnumbered and not wanting to make a scene, despite silently fuming. Gaz and Jackson talked across to each other as they commented on the football, supping the beers that Katy had brought them and relaxing more and more. Gaz was an undeniable slob, burping up the gas from his beer and stretching out his arm onto the back of the couch, despite how obviously uncomfortable he was making the other two as his fat belly peeked out from under his t-shirt.

“I think we’ll find somewhere else to stay tonight,” Jackson’s dad finally declared as a mountain of Chinese food was delivered to his son. “It’s a little crowded in here,” he grumbled, looking at the enormous size of Gaz as he began gorging himself.

“If you’re sure?” Aiden smiled, getting up to let them both out. Had getting rid of them really been that simple? He followed them to the door, feeling like he would soon be able to breathe at last. “They’re gone!” he shouted after he saw the elevator close behind them.

There was an audible cheer from the lounge area and by the time Aiden made it back inside, both of the boys had slipped off their shirts as if to celebrate. Fresh beers were opened and the quiet sense of competition began between the pair of them.

“You’ve done a great job on his capacity,” Katy nodded in approval, seeing how much Jackson was holding his own against her monstrous husband. “What did you train him on?” she asked.

“Whole milk,” Aiden explained proudly. “We did a full daily gallon for a while.”

“Nice!” Gaz nodded at his pal, continuing to eat across the way from him.

“There’s some fresh ice cream melting for you boys in the kitchen when you finish,” Katy poked her husband to remind him, so that he didn’t let himself drift off afterwards.

“Relax!” Gaz laughed. “I won’t fall asleep. We’re celebrating! You’ll find it a lot easier to gain now you’re not studying,” he told Jackson. “I absolutely ballooned after college. No more assignments, exams and stress.”

“I think that’s what my parents are worried about,” Jackson laughed.

“Fuck them!” Katy spat back uncompromisingly. “They’re the reason we came down,” she continued, looking pointedly at her little brother. “You need to learn to not take shit from them: Your house, your rules, your pig,” she stated, expressing herself using her hands, much like a politician.

“He did get there in the end,” Gaz added, standing up for his small brother-in-law. “That bit about feeding him up for his new job was hilarious!”

Aiden nodded, taking all the notes on-board. He really had gone about this the wrong way. But no more. Jackson had always loved the fact that he was so merciless in fattening him up. So why had he made such an effort to disguise his true intentions to the boy’s parents? Especially when they were so rude and hostile in response. The truth was, Aiden was more than done with playing nice.

By the time Jackson’s parents arrived the next morning, the two gluttons had gorged themselves on a small mountain of pastries. Gaz sat in the same spot on the couch, only in the underwear he had slept in. Jackson sat beside him, playing a video game on a retro console the big man had brought along with him. It was only ten in the morning, yet the pair of them were already on their second beer.

Jackson’s parents looked on with disapproval, having clearly hoped that Gaz and Katy would have gone home by then. When Gaz won the race on the screen, the big man hooted in triumph and insisted that Jackson down his beer as punishment. Meanwhile, Aiden took delight in setting down a large bowl of potato chips, as well as dips, for the pair of them.

“Are you two staying for dinner?” Aiden asked. “Katy is roasting some meats and making a giant meal before they both leave later.”

“My wife is a very good cook,” Gaz winked at the pair of them, grabbing a little roll of his belly fat as his evidence, before he started the next game with Jackson.

“Don’t worry,” Aiden smiled. “She’s teaching me everything she knows. I’ll soon be able to cook for Jackson just like she does.”

Aiden’s mother smiled politely, her lips thin and awkward. “We won’t be staying,” she replied.

“We were hoping Jackson would come home with us for a few days,” announced his dad, realising that they were unlikely to get their son alone to explain this to him privately.

“But I start my new job on Wednesday,” Jackson shrugged as the countdown for the race began on the screen.

“Well, we’ll talk about that in the car on the way home,” his dad mumbled patronisingly. “Go and get a bag ready.”

“Jackson, honey,” Aiden smiled, rubbing his boyfriend’s back as the guy became engrossed in the new race. “You don’t want to go home, do you?”

“No,” Jackson replied, entirely focused on trying to catch up to Gaz’s car.

“Ha! You’re fucked now!” Gaz laughed crudely, whizzing ahead on the screen.

“Jackson, I really think that you should consider this carefully,” his mother tried, sensing that her husband was failing to make any impact as everyone’s attention stayed fixed on the screen. “You can’t continue making all these poor choices!”

“Oh, shit! Not again!” Jackson growled, seeing his car skid out of control and into the barrier.

“Put it in reverse, honey!” Aiden insisted, pretending to be interested. “You can still do this!”

“Jackson, I really think enough is enough!” his father stated next; his voice a little louder and more serious.

“YES!” shouted Gaz loudly, crossing the finish line with a spectacular lead. He leaned his enormous, fat body over Jackson and playfully pretended to punch him in his chubby middle again and again. “Get that beer down you!” he demanded as his prize.

“Go on, honey,” Aiden laughed. “Rules are rules!”

Jackson’s parents looked at each other as their son downed yet another beer and burped up the gas in much the same way as his repulsively obese friend beside him. They watched as Jackson rubbed his bloated stomach and moaned in amusement, cracking open a can of soda instead. Aiden smirked as he could see the hope in their eyes suddenly wither away and die.

Jackson was lost to them.

“What is it about you ex-football players and getting huge butts as soon as you finish playing?” Aiden laughed a few weeks later as he watched his naked, thick-thighed, over three hundred pound lover strutting back into the bedroom.

“Dunno!” Jackson shrugged, comically trying to twist his significantly overfed body so that he could attempt to take a look at the gigantic glutes behind him. “I guess it’s all that old muscle turning into fat. Since the holidays, I’ve really been feeling a difference back there.”

“You don’t say!” Aiden chuckled. The changes during the winter months had been really quite dramatic for a while there. Considering the fact that Jackson had only been purposefully gaining weight for just over a year, his shape was now entirely different. It was especially obvious when his shirt was off and all the more thrilling to observe. Despite the pounds and pounds of fat, it was still clear that it was all built upon a solid base: a good frame and plenty of previous muscle that shaped it all in a pleasing fashion. Rather than a soft, sagging belly, Jackson had a stout, rounded gut. His chest was dominated by fattened pecs and his muscular arms had now been coated in an insulating layer of fat, making them larger than ever before. It was obvious, from the way Jackson held himself and swaggered about, that he had never felt so masculine in his life. With his great height and build, he could still take this so much further. Perhaps, after years of training for football, building mass had been hard-wired into his brain on an endlessly rewarding feedback loop. Still handsome with his double chin, he’d continued to have girls trying to flirt with him on campus, but even they had now changed: chubby, obese girls who clearly weren’t having the sex life college had promised them. It was the security guard uniform that did it for them, no doubt, Aiden would joke, poking his overwight lover in his protrusive stomach.

Aiden had to smile, seeing Jackson’s slight erection as he excitedly slipped on his new larger underwear; a brand that Gaz had recommended to stop chafing, and one that only catered for fat guys. “These feel so much better!” he exclaimed, admiring his overweight physique in the mirror. “I’m never going back to normal underwear again.”

Aiden simply nodded and held back a chuckle. Jackson wasn’t really fat enough to fill them properly yet, nor appreciate the many ways they better supported obese men. Still, he was enjoying believing that he was; his own little fat fantasy. Even though he had learned to slob out when he got home and he could gorge himself just as well as a pig like Gaz, his body still wasn’t there quite yet. “How’re the work pants fitting at the moment?” Aiden asked, picking them up from the floor for Jackson to wear.

“They’re getting super tight!” Jackson grinned, taking them and manoeuvring his large feet down and inside the legs.

Aiden watched on sceptically. His horny, fat boy tended to have a habit of exaggerating. They were zipped and buttoned up, yet Aiden was still able to push three fingers under the waistband. “I think we’re about to hit a plateau with your weight. These should definitely be tighter by now,” he declared, tapping his boyfriend on his heavy backside.

“You serious?” Jackson asked, spinning to get a good look at himself in the mirror again. “You think my gains are slowing down?”

“Don’t worry. This sort of thing happens. It’s not so easy to fatten once the cold weather ends; complacency sets in,” Aiden shrugged. “I’ll double your calorie shake mix before bed.”

Jackson’s eyes bulged. “What? Wow!” he swooned, instantly getting aroused. “Doubling it? Seriously?” He pulled Aiden into him, as if wanting to check on his face that he wasn’t joking. “Do you realise what that would do to me?” he asked.

Aiden nodded. “Of course I do. It’s about time we started the big push towards three fifty.”

“Oh, man… when you talk like this…” Jackson mumbled, already moving to unbutton his pants with his chubby hands, so horny they were almost quivering.

“There’s no time,” Aiden smirked, stopping him in his tracks. “Your shift starts in ten minutes and I’ve got to get to class.”

“Are you really going to double my shake tonight?” Jackson asked with desperate lust.

“Yes,” Aiden smiled, collecting his books from the side.

Jackson moaned with a horny lust he knew he could do nothing about until later. The sound of it made Aiden smirk as he led the way out, knowing that his fat boy’s appetite today was already spinning into overdrive. That vending machine at his work was about to get very well used!

Aiden’s father had cooled dramatically in his enthusiasm towards Jackson by the following summer. A college drop out, fat, lazy and far too greedy for his own good; he’d adopted the same shortness with him as he gave Gaz. The fact that Jackson wasn’t picking up another job during the summer period really seemed to infuriate him as well; with his large tummy only swelling outwards as he lived off Aiden and slobbed about in the apartment above the garage.

“Doesn’t this make you miss playing football?” asked Aiden’s father as he sat down on the small chair in his lounge and caught Jackson watching some of the classic NFL moments from last season.

“No,” Jackson laughed, dipping his hand into his giant bowl of potato chips as Aiden sorted through their washing. “It just makes me remember why I quit!”

The older man shook his head in disapproval. “Katy’s husband always says the same thing when I ask,” he grumbled. “Fancy the pair of you just giving it up like that. You’re both such strange boys,” he mumbled, almost to himself.

“Well, I was the only one who quit,” Jackson corrected him. “Gaz got kicked off during his final year in college. I think he’d put on too much weight by then.”

“Oh, you think?” Aiden’s father shot back sarcastically. “Now he doesn’t even walk himself to work. Can you believe that? He gets Katy to drop him off, or gets a cab. It’s three blocks from their new apartment!”

“It’s still quite a walk,” Aiden jumped in, automatically defending his brother-in-law.

“It’s embarrassing is what it is!” his dad snapped back. “He’s broken three of your mother’s antique dining room chairs in the last year, the fat lump!” He took a sideways look at Jackson’s gut, unable to deny the bizarre similarities between his two children’s choice in partners.

“They’re very old chairs, though,” Aiden tried, handing Jackson a fresh beer and enjoying the fact that his dad was so easily wound up.

“Yes! Old and very expensive to repair!” the older man almost shouted.

Jackson’s head turned to look at the dining chairs. Only one pristine seat remained of the old set. Aiden knew exactly what he was thinking and he was more than happy with the plan that was formulating in the greedy boy’s mind. But if Jackson was going to annihilate the last chair, he’d need to up his weight by quite a good amount. “Wow, it’s hot today!” he exclaimed, leaning over the back of the couch to rest his hands on Jackson’s giant chest. “How about some ice cream?” He kissed the fat man on his ear; their silent love language that let Jackson know that Aiden had also seen the chair that needed breaking. “I’ll go pick up some supplies from the supermarket.”

Although the challenge was set, it took a further six months to achieve; with Jackson’s enormous rear finally sending the chair crashing down the day after New Year. Aiden’s mother had been in tears, whilst Jackson himself was taken back to the apartment and given the best blow job of his life.

“I told you I could do it!” he boasted, settling down with a large bucket of ice cream afterwards. His mood was nothing short of triumphant. He merrily gorged himself in reward, despite knowing that his daily calorie shakes would still need taking down soon. Then, dropping his spoon and tub to the floor, he grabbed Aiden’s hand and sent it on a guided tour of his larger gut. “Are you proud?” he asked.

“Very much so!” Aiden smiled, sitting himself on the limited remaining space on Jackson’s knee and kissing him sweetly. “There’s no repairing that sort of break. It was like it exploded!”

Jackson’s grin was wider than ever. He’d want to talk about this success for weeks to come. “Maybe now you’ll consider marrying me?” he asked for the hundredth time. Having grown so large and contrasting to Aiden, he’d suddenly become fixated by the idea.

Aiden chuckled and shook his head. “We can’t afford that yet. Especially now you’ve lost your job,” he teased; still finding it funny that Jackson had been getting away with sneaking off to gorge himself on fast food during his night shifts for so long. Still, having Jackson as a stay at home fat boy for the last few weeks had been a surprisingly kinky revelation for both of them.

“Oh, come on. We’re going to be rolling in it soon enough!” Jackson countered. “Your sister is already creating a bespoke job for you as soon as you finish college. And you know I can fatten up on the inheritance money from my grandma until then,” he chuckled.

“I’m sure that’s just what she had in mind when she left it to you,” Aiden joked.

Jackson smirked. “Well, that’s just too bad!” he sniggered. “She was always such a bitch to us. It serves her right. And, it’s either that, or get another job, which…” he chuckled, “...doesn’t especially appeal to me, now I’ve seen how quickly I can gain weight when I don’t have to get up and go to work. I never would have gotten myself over three eighty this Christmas without all that extra time to eat and sit on my fat butt.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Aiden nodded, sliding his hands up and down the mighty chest and belly of his lover.

“So let’s get married then,” Jackson grinned. “Wouldn’t it be so fun heading for breakfast with your parents tomorrow; the morning after I upset them both by breaking that antique chair, and announcing that they’re getting yet another fat slob in the family?”

Aiden laughed and nodded his head. “That certainly would be a very amusing time to do it,” he agreed. He considered the prospect some more. “Perhaps… if it was a long engagement…” he teased. “And you agreed that you’re far too skinny for us to be considering setting an actual date yet…”

Jackson's face was a picture of erotic delight, as if he was living out his favourite fantasy of all. He wasn’t the only one, either. It had been clear since the moment they first kissed that Aiden wouldn’t find anyone else so perfectly suited to him. This was it.

“I can see you had a good night last night,” Katy smirked at her new brother-in-law as she entered the lavish honeymoon suite two years later and picked up Jackson’s enormous pants, folding them neatly on the back of a chair like a woman who was well used to tidying up after her own giant husband.

“I’m amazed you didn’t break the bed!” Gaz laughed, following in behind her and heading to sit in the wide chair to chat to his buddy, Jackson, as he sat up in bed; overfed and oversexed the morning after the wedding. “That was quite some show you put on eating so much of that wedding cake!” he teased, patting his buddy on his leg, both out of pride and sympathy for how much of a drunken glutton he had made of himself in front of everyone.

Jackson laughed at himself. “I’d had quite a few beers by that point. I just though, ‘fuck it’, it’s my wedding day. If I want to eat half a cake to myself, I will do.”

Katy laughed and winked at her brother. “He’s definitely a keeper, this little piggy!” She then busied herself, explaining to Aiden about everything that had been done to ensure nothing was going to be forgotten after the reception last night. “The cake has all been boxed up and put in that bag there,” she pointed. “All the decorations are either in our car, or mom and dad’s. Aunt Sally told me to tell you how handsome you looked yesterday. She actually hit it off quite well with one of Jackson’s cousins, but I’ll save that story until you get back!”

Aiden thanked her, as the two fat men sat chatting. The over five hundred pound Jackson was completely comfortable without his shirt on in front of them all; incredible amounts of fat in his chest spreading onto his lap from his bulbous gut in much the same way it did for Gaz. But Katy was in a rush and the pair did not stay too long, heading off and wishing them well on their honeymoon.

“Alone again!” Aiden smirked, closing the door once more and removing his clothes seductively.

The fat man growled in kinky approval and slid his fat body a little down the bed. “Bring that leftover cake,” he pointed at one of the bags that had just been delivered. “I’ve only got until tomorrow morning to break this bed,” he grinned. “This fat boy is about to show you something very special…”

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