#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

[xoxomilesteller]

it’s not such a bad thing

stepdad!beau arlen x reader | MDNI

cw: stepdad x stepdaughter, mentions of a toxic mom, big ole age gap, cheating, slight manipulation, sub!beau? (KINDA? maybe at least at first?), oral (m receiving), pet names (hon), fingering, mutual masturbation, unprotected p in v (no balloon no goon), cursing, praising

def has grammar mistakes!

wc: 4.1k

your mom got a new boyfriend when you were fifteen. you didn’t really care, as long as he didn’t become too much of an authority figure in your life. he has a daughter, not too much younger than you, about 5 years apart. again it didn’t really bother you because as soon as you graduated high school, you were leaving montana.

beau is actually really sweet. you didn’t interact with him much back when he first moved in but the few times you did, he was such a sweet man.

so why was he with your mom?

unfortunately for you, your mom has always been a better girlfriend/wife than a mother. she didn’t necessarily abuse or mistreat you, but there are little jabs and clear evidence on where her priorities lie. men.

your father left her when you were a toddler, left you physically, but was always a call away.

but of course you didn’t know that since your mom told you he left both of you.

didn’t find out until she accidentally told on herself when she got too drunk.

he left because he couldn’t handle her toxicity, in your eyes, she was a decent mother when she didn’t act up.

in his eyes, she was jealous of you. jealous that he paid more attention to you than her.

you didn’t actually notice this until beau moved in with his daughter, emily. your mother glared at her whenever beau would say at the dinner table that he’d sleep in emily’s room since she was scared.

beau never noticed though. your mother is subtle about it. she knows that if she were to ever make emily feel uncomfortable, she’d lose beau.

you weren’t blind though, obviously beau is cute, but that’s really it. he has short hair, freckles scattered over his nose and cheeks, green eyes, and a short stubble. he was retired and was simply looking for a woman. he called you hun and had a subtle southern accent but would become thick whenever he’s tired or stressed.

sure you developed a small little crush on him. it was hard not to. he is the man that stepped up: taught you how to drive, fixed your car when it wouldn’t start, taught you how to pump your tire, showed you how to shoot a gun, made you a burger on your birthday because he knew you didn’t like sweets so much.

but things didn’t go as planned.

your dream college out in california rejected you. but your best friend cheered you up. you both moved into a small apartment together after graduation, since you were both eighteen, and attended the local community college and then would transfer to a four year.

however, the transfer would mean that you’d have to move back in with your mom since you can’t pay for your university fees and rent. but you really value your education, so that’s exactly what you did when your final semester was over.

within the two years that have passed, you distanced yourself from your mom, which included emily and beau. your mom was slightly upset that her twenty year old daughter is moving back in, but you promised her you’d be out before she knew it.

your mom cooked up some pasta and chicken, you, her, and emily. no beau. not yet. he’s coming home late from the station.

he comes in with a gentle opening of the door, no rush, as you guys are halfway through your meal. your mom stands up to go make him his plate.

”sorry, traffic was insane,” he chuckles as he takes off his boots. he walks over to kiss your mom.

and your jaw drops.

he looks unbelievably different. older. he’s grown out his beard and hair, that’s it.

but it makes all the difference in the world.

emily giggles, “i know i’m still not used to his new caveman look too”

”uh huh,” is all you say as you stare at him, feelings from when you were younger resurfacing.

”you two talkin’ crap ‘bout me?” he laughs and walks over to the table, “hey em,” he places a kiss on the top of her head, “hi hon”

you blink at him, “hi”

his freckles have faded away a bit, there are more wrinkles present on his face, specifically by the corners of his eyes.

he rubs his beard with his hand, “c’mon,” he smiles at you, “it can’t be too bad”

you shake your head, “just new”

new and hot.

your mom sits down, setting beau’s plate out in front of him and you suddenly forget how to eat. in fear of choking on your food, you pick at the pasta and chicken, moving the pieces of pasta and chicken around on your plate with the fork. you zone out on beau’s deep voice, him talking about how there’s a new case and he can’t really give too much details but it’s looking very dangerous.

his voice is deeper, the years of smoking cigarettes catching up to him. you are the only one who knows about that habit. you caught him outside one time when you were sneaking out.

you guys made a deal, you told him where you were going, who, what, why and shared your location with him, you wouldn’t bring it up, just forget like it ever happened.

you weren’t going to regardless, but you got caught sneaking out, he’d tell your mom.

so you agreed on that deal.

and the way he speaks now too, you don’t know if it’s new or if it’s you noticing something you never noticed before, but he’s so confident when he speaks. he uses his hands, takes pauses so everyone can follow with him, speaks softly but with an authoritative tone, acknowledges people.

acknowledges you.

”hon,” he breaks you out of your thoughts, “you done eatin’?”

“um,” you look up at him, who has his head tilted and eyes flickering over your face, “yes i am done”

you’ve never been a good sleeper.

neither has beau.

you lay in your bed, texting your best friend and watching netflix. you sit up, adjusting the straps of your silk nightgown to head out into the kitchen for a glass of water.

or maybe just a shot of tequila to help you sleep.

but as you open your door, you see colored light coming from a room, specifically beau’s office.

you and beau had always ran into each other in the night. or well, you ran into beau. after emily fell asleep, he’d go into his office to work on his case, like a true workaholic.

you’d listen to him talk to himself, sitting beside the open door so he couldn’t see you as he tried to figure out time frames or why someone would do something, since his voice brought you peace.

of course, beau knew this. he heard you every time. he didn’t know why or even tried to figure out why, but you didn’t disturb him, you didn’t disturb anyone. so if you just wanted to sit out by his door, he wouldn’t care.

he just wanted to make sure that you felt safe and if you needed anything, you’d come to him.

but tonight you did not have a reason to go to bed. so you creep up, peeking at him.

he has files in one hand and the other hand is near his mouth, thumb playing with the hairs of his beard just below his lower lip.

”how much trouble would someone be in if they had a shot of tequila and were underage?”

he looks up at you, giving you a are you joking look and returns his focus to the files in front of him

”if you wanna sleep i’d suggest some melatonin, not underage drinkin’”

you look around in his office, ”may i come in?”

”are you gonna keep askin’ questions ‘bout crimes you wanna commit?”

”i can give you a nice shoulder massage,” you grin

he brings his gaze back onto you, “you jus’ wanna read my files,” he chuckles, the warmth and trust reflecting in the soft sound.

he has no idea about your crush on him.

you dramatically gasp and widen your eyes, “God no,” you cross your arms, “that’s an invasion of privacy. can’t believe you think i’d ever do that”

he sighs, “c’mere,” he says playfully defeated

you tip toe in, looking around at the paintings and the new plus rearranged furniture that got here since you moved out. you tread carefully in front of his desk.

”do not read my files hon,” he looks at you through his eyebrows, wrinkles forming on his forehead

”have some more trust in me beau”

he cocks a brow, “i can’t,” he smiles, “i know how nosy you and your mother are”

you don’t like being put on the same boat as your mom, but how would beau know? your mom puts on an amazing front.

so you ignore it and walk behind his chair, placing your small palms on his broad shoulders.

”speaking of, why are you not sleeping in her bed at this moment? i mean like, you haven’t even changed out of your work clothes”

he leans back into your touch, “findin’ someone’s missin’ daughter is more important than sleep”

”well if i had a missing daughter i’d want the sheriff in charge of her case to be fully aware of what’s going on,” you mumble

“‘m’aware,” he grumbles

he’s everything but aware. he’s unaware of your crush on him. he’s unaware of your mother’s jealousy on both you and emily, his own daughter.

but your mother hasn’t said or done anything to emily, so you keep quiet.

you start moving your fingers in soft circular motions, ”well did you notice that on your sticky note you wrote 5:69 PM?”

he furrows his brows and leans in, you follow, keeping your hands on his shoulders, to the yellow sticky note he placed on the corner of his computer

“well i’ll be damned,” he pokes his cheek with his tongue and runs a hand through his long locks, “guess you are right”

taken by the way his hair behaves and falls into the right places, you also run your hand through his hair.

beau is a bit shocked, but he lets it happen. since he grew it out, he’s known a lot of people that have grown very fond of his hair and want to touch it all the time.

he likes the fact that he’s built a safe enough space around you that you’re comfortable around him.

but what fully catches him by surprise is when you move your thumbs to the nape of his neck, applying pressure in short up and down motions that follow your four other fingers that scratch the bottom of his head, where his long hair ends.

he stifles a groan by biting down on his inner lip. you don’t know this, but head scratches are his weakness. he involuntarily lets his head rest forward, fluttering his eyes shut.

”why do you like my mother beau?”

his eyes shoot open at the question, but he keeps his head dangling forward, “she’sagreatwomanhon,” he mumbles, “treatsmeright, emright.”

you huff at his response

he lifts his head up at the sound, “there some’ i should know ‘bout?”

”no, nothing.”

beau turns on his office chair to face you, taking his big and calloused hands and wrapping them around your wrists, but keeping them near his shoulders.

”uh uh,” he shakes his head, “don’ gimme that, talk,” he raises his brows

“it’s not that important, if you think she’s a good woman then okay,” you shrug and make an attempt to remove your wrists but his grip doesn’t allow it.

”tell me” he demands

you don’t know if it’s the way he’s manspreading or how he’s holding onto your wrists, but you settle down on his left thigh.

he loosens his grip on your wrists, green eyes widening, “hon- what-“

your fingers scratch his head joined with the small gentle massages at the back of his neck that make him melt, head tipping forward.

”she treats you and em right, right?” you whisper softly

”hon,”

”right?”

he grips onto the edge of his desk, knuckles turning white, “correct,” he exhales

you hum, “she ever tell you why my dad left?”

he shakes his head, slowly picking it back up to look at the open door of his office, “never had to, heard a man left his family, stopped her right there, didn’t need to hear more”

you move your hand, so one of them is cupping his bearded jaw, making him look at you instead through his hooded eyes, “probably for the best, she woulda told you a lie”

”what d’you mean?”

his lips stay parted

you lean in, closing your lips around his.

his keeps his parted, eyes widening again, “hon we shouldn’t,” he whispers

”why not?”

”’cause i’m with your mother, i’m your stepfather”

”she lied, lies, to you beau,” he turns his head, getting a better look at you, “she’s jealous of your own daughter, she’s jealous of me because my dad gave me more attention than her”

“why didn’t you tell me this before?”

”’cause she never hurt emily. if she did, i would’ve told you the second it happened.”

he nods, “that doesn’t make this, what you’re tryna do okay”

”then take me off of your lap,” you glide both hands down to his shoulders, resting them there

”how has she hurt you? tell me,” he pleads, placing his hands on your waist

you hesitantly kiss his lips again, which he gives into slightly, “do you want me to get off of your lap?” you ask for clarity

he looks into your eyes, confused, “stay”

your hands tangle up in his hair at the back of his neck, pulling him into a soft and gentle kiss.

beau hasn’t fully given in. he knows this is wrong. so wrong. his lips stay still, just letting you kiss him.

which you notice.

so you remove your mouth from his, bracing yourself on his shoulders to get up.

he quickly tightens his hold on your waist, ”woah why’re y’leavin’?”

you tilt your head, confused, “well you’re not kissing me back, so you don’t wanna do this which is fine”

his hands go down to your thighs, spreading them to adjust you so you’re fully sitting on his lap. then he places one hand, cupping your cheek, “do whatever you want, but you’re tellin’ me how she hurt you”

”whatever i want?”

”whatever you want,” he reassures

you places your mouth over his, his lips still staying still but after a few seconds, they move in sync with yours. his hands move up and down your back gently.

your hips start rocking back and forth, slowly to test the waters, over the growing bulge in his khaki pants, earning a soft groan from his mouth that makes the ache between your legs grow. your hands are on either side of his jaw, feeling it move with each kiss he feeds you and tracing circles with your thumbs on his beard.

you pull away gently, dragging one of his lips between yours, “she told me my dad left us,” your hands go to the buttons of his shirt, while your mouth kisses and nibbles the skin of his neck but careful to not leave marks, “made me think he stopped loving us”

beau moves his hands to the lace trim of your nightgown, still hesitating.

his mind is racing. he’s your stepdad. he knows this is wrong. but with the way you’re kissing his neck, soft, delicate, hands exploring his shoulders and what you’re telling him?

he couldn’t care if it’s true or not, his mind is clouded by how wrong this is, but he cannot help it. he wants you. he never did before, never looked at you in this way.

he’s worried about himself, worried why he wants this to happen.

he’s so caught up in his mind that he doesn’t realize you unzipped his pants. he doesn’t realize until you run your thumb over the rid tip, tracing a circle that snaps him out of his thoughts.

he shakily exhales. you get off of his lap, lowering yourself on your knees, in between his legs, “you’re stuck in your head”

”can you blame me hon?”

you keep tracing circles over his sensitive tip, collecting the pre cum, “she makes jokes that aren’t funny as a way to make me feel bad,” you lick his tip and one of his hands find your hair, stifling a moan, “doesn’t work”

you lean back, admiring his cock, the girthiness of him, the vein running straight down and another few weaving around the organ.

you’re afraid you’re going to get lockjaw.

but beau’s definitely worth the risk.

you look up at him, noticing how his head is tipped back and he has one hand over his forehead, thumb and index pressed over his eyes. he’s stressed.

and his beard is so well kept.

you keep your eyes on the under side of his jaw as you inch closer, taking in the head of his dick into your mouth. he twitches and his grip on your hair gets tighter.

”..hon..,” he whispers, not making eye contact with you

you swirl your tongue over his sensitive tip, lapping up the salty pre cum you spread with your thumb and take him further into your mouth.

beau bites down on his lip, to the point he tastes blood, to limit the amount of noise he wants to make. his entire body is scrunched up. brows furrowed, eyes squeezed tight, his entire body is rigid, to the point he feels like his hamstring is about to cramp.

his mind can’t focus on anything besides staying quiet and your mouth sucking on him in the most perfect way ever.

his stepdaughter’s mouth around him.

and he hates that he’s enjoying it. he hates that he cannot tell you to stop because he wants this just as bad.

but God, it’s a sight for you.

and you want to hear him.

so your hands go to his balls.

he moans. loud.

your thighs press together.

before beau can get too lost in the pleasure, he leans over, abdomen pushing your head down him slightly, and he rearranges things on his desk, clearing out a space.

then he places both hands in your hair, letting you bob your head a few times more before tapping you, signaling you to stop. he rubs his hand on the back of your head and takes the hem of his button up to wipe your face clean.

”there we go sweet thing,” he coos, “all cleaned up now, yeah?”

he watches your lips move with every drag of the cotton. he slips off his shirt, discarding it somewhere and he lifts you up, placing you on his desk

he groans when his still hard cock grazes the hem of your dress, so he slides his hands under and removes it, wasting no time in attaching his warm mouth around your hardened nipple.

you arch your back into his mouth, lips parting at the feel of him sucking and flicking his tongue around your nipple.

his hands reach the waistband of your panties, peeling them off of you while his mouth moves up to your neck. they slide all the way down, falling onto the floor.

with his index and middle finger, he spreads your puffy, wet lips, “you’re s’wet,” he mumbles. once his fingers are coated in you, he slips them in, quietly groaning at your tightness.

you gasp, hands flying to his shoulders, digging into them, as his fat fingers thrust in and out of your tight pussy, hitting the exact spot that makes your toes curl; the sound of your wetness and stifled moans filling the room. the heel of his palm bumping into your clit at each calculated thrust.

beau steps closer to you and embraces you with his left arm, pulling you into his chest to muffle the sounds you can’t hold back. his hand presses your head into his skin, feeling the sheer coat of sweat building up on him.

”you’re doin’ amazin’ hon,” he kisses the top of your head

you tilt yours down, noticing how his cock is throbbing.

you slide your hands down his body, making him sigh, and wrap your hands around him. his mouth falls open on your hair and you start giving him slow stokes. he thrusts his fingers in timing of your strokes, still holding you as close as he can.

”slow? that’s how you want it?” he whispers

”yes,” you half moan

he presses his mouth into your scalp to not make any loud sounds and he lets you have your fun, stroking him slowly while his fingers thrust in you.

each time your hand reaches the tip of his dick, you run your thumb over the slit, earning a sharper thrust of his fingers each time you do that.

then beau scissors his fingers.

you yelp and grip his cock tighter.

”shh,” he drags his lips down your head, nosing some of your hair out of the way, “i know hon, just give me a sec, gotta stretch you out f’me”

you nod, placing your hands on his chest to brace yourself. he twists his wrist with each scissoring motion to ensure you’re well prepped.

”lay down hon,”

you lay flat against the hard wood of his desk, a few papers sticking onto your back. beau places his hand under your right knee, taking that leg and pining it to his desk, your other leg hooks around him.

he hovers over you, using his free hand to grab your wrist, “gotta stay quiet, right?” he places your palm over his mouth and then places his hand over yours and slides into your wet channel.

both of you moan painfully loud.

your hand almost falls from his mouth, but he takes his teeth, biting into your skin, then he releases it.

”you’re s’tight,” he groans before burying his face in the crook of your neck

he stills, letting you adjust to his thick size

he starts rolling his hips, slow, yet hard, making you moan loudly regardless of being muffled.

beau removes his hand from your mouth and gives you a hard thrust, tip hitting your g spot and before you can even moan, he sticks two fingers inside your mouth.

he opens his mouth against your warm skin, beard nipping at it, ”i know hon, s’hard bein’ quiet,” his voice is strained, “bite down on ‘em, door’s still open,” his eyes flicker to his open office door.

his heart rate quickens, he doesn’t know if it’s because of the door being open or just being inside of you, but his thrusts remain slow and hard.

he also bites down on you, his teeth sink into the soft flesh of your clavicle to keep himself quiet.

everything is so overwhelming to you, having to stay quiet, door open, having your stepdad inside of you.

but he feels amazing.

his cock stretches you to a point you didn’t think was possible, his tip hits that spot that knocks the air out of your lungs, his hand thats on your leg is gripping onto you tight that there will be bruises.

it all adds to the knot in your belly that keeps getting tighter and tighter.

the only sounds audible in the house are the fans running in your mom and Emily’s room, the sound of beau’s cock thrusting inside of you, and muffled moans from both of you.

your walls start clenching around him, so beau starts sinking his teeth down further. your mind is too focused on how good he’s making you feel that the small pain quickly turns into pleasure.

beau starts rubbing your clit in rapid circles, completely different from the pace of his hips, but it tips you over.

tears well up in your eyes and your walls hug his cock as tight as they can as you cum all over his cock. your body spasms, hips arching off his desk and nails digging into your own skin.

he follows shortly after with a grunt that gets stuck in his throat, hips stuttering, the feeling of you cumming practically milking him dry.

he rides out both of your orgasms, chests heaving and heavy breathing, “there we go sweet thing,” he pants, “feelin’ good?” his voice is thick

it takes you a minute to respond, “yeah”

”good girl,” he lazily smiles, “good girl,” he repeats, much softer this time and places a kiss on your forehead.

AN: can’t say much besides i myself am bouncing off the walls at what i’ve just written here!

wavy banner by: @anitalenia

straight line banner by: @elleisdesigning

tags: @redhairedgardenfairy

[neon-in-the-night-time]

if natalie bagley's not in season 4 i’m gonna cry

i mean i want to see all the background characters but natalie especially

[tyrantisterror]

When I was 3 years old I went to a preschool that had this little green crocheted crocodile finger puppet that was my absolute favorite toy to play with of all time. I named her Chelsea, because Chelsea starts with C and crocodile starts with C and more often than not wild animals in fiction aimed at kids have names that start with the same first letter as their species. I played with Chelsea every day, because she was my favorite toy, and because the other kids weren't really interested in her, and also because I eventually started to hide her in a special secret spot in the room so no one else would find her before I did. She was so beloved by me that when I graduated from preschool, my teachers gave Chelsea to me permanently, because it was clear no one else would ever love that little crochet crocodile as much as me anyway (in part because I hid her). They waited a few weeks after I graduated before doing it, too, and sent Chelsea with some post cards as if the crocodile had been on a whirlwind "travel the world" vacation before deciding to come live with me.

And Chelsea remained my favorite toy all through my childhood. There were others I loved nearly as much, like my Imperial Godzilla and the big red T.rex from the first Jurassic Park toy line and my tiny knockoff plush Charmander, but Chelsea always held the place of honor in my heart. She was my absolute favorite toy.

I kept a lot of my favorite toys through adolescence, even if social pressure eventually got me to give away a lot of them (and some, y'know, broke). That's obviously not surprising to you if you've followed my blog, since I still collect toys into my adulthood. But it's important to note because while I know I made a conscious effort to never throw out Chelsea every time I pared down my collection... at some point, she went missing.

I became aware of it when I graduated from high school. I was feeling really emotional about leaving that stage of my life and, y'know, becoming an adult and shit, and in that state I decided to find Chelsea to reassure myself that I hadn't entirely left childhood behind. But Chelsea wasn't there. No matter how hard I looked, I could not find Chelsea anywhere.

And that was, like, devastating, because the only explanation was that somehow, at some point, I had accidentally tossed her out with some other "childhood junk" while trying to grow up and be responsible in my teen years. I had literally thrown away my childhood in a careless attempt to be more grown up.

Of course I knew she was just a toy - nothing more than some yarn twisted together in the loose shape of a crocodile, lifeless and soul-less and more or less worthless in the objective light of day. But she was also Chelsea, my best friend since i was three, my stalwart little pal, a source of comfort for most of my life at that point, and I had just... tossed her out! Like garbage! What kind of person was I becoming if I could do that to my best friend?

I was very visibly distraught, and my mom noticed. Being very crafty, she tried to find the pattern for Chelsea so she could crochet me a new one. The problem is, she had no idea where to find said pattern. She checked all her books of crochet patterns, and when that failed she tried the internet, but no matter how hard she looked, she found nothing.

So my mom found the next best thing.

The original Chelsea was a tiny finger puppet, and I had "met" her when I was three. Well, I was eighteen now - shouldn't Chelsea have grown too? And as has been established, this crocodile was fond of whirlwind vacations. My mom found a pattern that looked as much like Chelsea as possible while also being a much bigger crocodile, and gifted her to me before I left for college - to show that while we can't stop the flow of time or how it changes us, that doesn't mean we have to leave it behind.

And yeah, I decided to believe it. That's Chelsea now. Yeah, I know that in reality it's a completely different set of yarn made by my mom rather than... whoever it was that crocheted the original Chelsea, but then, Chelsea was never really the yarn. She was the feelings I put into the yarn, you know? So that's Chelsea, all grown up, and still my most prized toy.

...

Flash forward... Jesus, eighteen years, holy shit. A few weeks ago I saw a post trying to identify a different crochet crocodile pattern, and thinking it was cute, I decided to try and look for it on ebay and etsy, just to see if maybe I could find it. I didn't, but do you know what I found instead?

A very familiar crochet crocodile finger puppet. An intensely familiar one, you might say. Of course I bought it. And of course I asked the seller if, perhaps, they might have the pattern for it or know where it came from (they did not, alas). And after a few days, she showed up at my house.

She's not Chelsea, obviously. For one thing, she's far too clean and fresh looking - Chelsea was very well loved, and looked the part, while this crocodile finger puppet has definitely not endured years upon years of a child's affection. And, more importantly, she's not Chelsea because we've already established that Chelsea grew up into a bigger crochet crocodile. This has to be Chelsea's younger sister, Cici.

And if I could find another of Chelsea's kind after all these years, then maybe, with a bit of luck, I might find the pattern for her, and be able to make more of them. Fill the world with Chelseas.

[eddiesxangel]

Amorem | E.M

Cw: you’re tired of being alone, so you cast a spell to find love. 7.3k words, witch!f!reader x Eddie, magic, fluff, mild angst, smut, unprotected sex, creampie.

“I just feel so lonely.” You sigh.

Robin, Nancy, Max, and Joyce, all collectively nod their heads as you’re all gathered at the Coven house. They can’t help but feel a small amount of pity, they have all found their partners. You’re the last witch standing.

“What about the amorem enchantment?” Joyce, the coven mother suggested. 

She is a wise witch, the townspeople call her eccentric, however she is very knowledgeable when it comes to the craft. 

“That seemed a bit desperate” you sigh. 

“You’re a beautiful witch in your prime, it is time to find your match before it is too late.” Joyce points out.

It is very unfortunate when a witch loses their match due to natural selection because there is a very small window to do something about it. 

The supernatural forces are lenient to keep your human longer than their body allows if you claim them in time. It only works if the match is in their mid-twenties. No one knows why, but it is when you need to act. You’re already in your twenty-fifth year, you can’t push it any longer.

With a sigh of defeat you begrudgingly agree that it was what has to be done.

“Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem” your chant starts softly. Alone at your altar, deep in the meadow with the wildflowers and dew. Your altar is set up against a weeping willow with all you have gathered for your enchantment. 

Amorem enchantments, or love enchantments, are a powerful thing. The magic cannot make someone fall in love with you; that’s not how it works. The magic is to draw the source of love towards you, to help guide the individuals together.

You think of your ideal partner- charismatic, funny, loyal, trustworthy, doting, physical, handsome, artistically inclined, and imaginative. All of those things race on your mind as you chant.

You can feel your magic building. The warmth builds in the depth of your chest and spreads through your arms to your fingertips as you continue the chant. 

“Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum, dea amoris, invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem” 

The moon is at its highest, the wind is whistling. “Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Adiuva me invenire unum, dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum ego. One last final chant and it was complete.

You feel a soft brush against your hand. Looking down, you smile at the little ball of fluff—Clover, your familiar. She is a calico rabbit you’ve had since your magic presented itself at eight years of age. 

You glamour your altar so no one would disrupt it- not that anyone comes out here, but you can never be too careful keeping the witches' secret….

A few miles away, tucked up in bed was a man, unbeknownst to him, whose life was about to change.  

Eddie isn’t too sure why he is here. He was in his apartment strumming, trying to find the right chords, when he had a sudden urge to go out. Where? He didn’t know, but if he didn’t, his gut told him he would miss out on something… something big.

Now he’s found himself in this kitschy store next to Melvald’s. He’s never noticed or paid much attention to it, but he found himself pulled up in front of it and being drawn in. 

The wind chimes let you know that a potential customer has entered your little shop whilst you are in the back sorting stock, so you poke your head out to see who’s arrived 

“Let me know if you need anything” you politely say before seeing who was there. 

“Uh… thanks” You see the man scratch his head looking clueless until his eyes meet yours. 

“Oh. Hi,” you step out when you realize who is in your presence.

Eddie Munson, of all people. 

“Hey,” he awkwardly waves. 

You haven’t seen him since you graduated high school, nearly seven years ago. You had heard he was held back a few times, but you hadn’t given him a second thought. 

“Let me know if you’re looking for something specific, I can help you out,” you smile and try and act busy. 

When he turns his back you can’t help but observe him as he searches the shelves. 

“What kind of place is this?” He looks over his shoulder.

“Well we are called Mystic Apothecary, what do you think?” You raise a brow biting back a snarky giggle, the touches of sarcasm rolling off your tongue. 

“Ah,” he nods and continues browsing. 

You curse yourself for being snarky. This is a potential customer, you need to be more approachable.

“So that makes you? What? A Sorceress?” He smirks and you can’t help but blush. 

“You could say that.” 

Eddie spends about ten minutes browsing and picking up little trinkets and other items before bringing them to your counter. 

“Looks like someone wants to get into spell work,” you smile. He has a pentagram pendant, a tapestry, some empty spell jars, so pre filled spell jars, a black obsidian tower, and a cauldron.

“Uh-I needed some props” 

“Props, huh?” Your pointed aubergine nails clack on the register keys to input the prices. 

“I play this game, it’s silly.” He shrugs. 

Eddie wasn’t sure why he was being so bashful. He’s always been so proud to be himself, so why is he nervous in front of you? 

He semi-remembers you from school. You were more subdued and kept to yourself or your girl group. Everyone called you guys the Hawkins Coven, not that you were actually witches, but now he is rethinking that…

It also doesn’t escape him that you’re really pretty—like otherworldly pretty. He was really digging your style. Your peasant skirt and half corset are really doing it for him; very ren fair of you. 

“So, is this like your uniform, or do you always dress like this?”  Where did that come from? Eddie curses himself, but you just giggle.

“Why? You want one for yourself?” You smirk. 

“What? You don’t think I could pull it off?” 

“You would look lovely” 

“Thank you, my lady” he curtseyed. 

This made you giggle some more. This interaction was cute flirty and fun. You have never spoken to him this much, who knew he was so charming? 

“Thanks for shopping.” You pass him his goodies in a paper bag. 

“I guess I’ll see you around?” 

“Yeah,” you smile. 

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding once the chimes for the door let you know Eddie was out of the store. 

What the Hecate was that?

Clover hops over onto the counter giving you a knowing look. 

“No… you don’t think?” 

She twitches her nose. 

“You’re crazy”  

She stomps her little back foot and you roll your eyes. 

“Let’s see.”

Days passed without any interaction with Eddie, until today. While at the food court with the coven, Max caught sight of Lucas, her boyfriend, sitting with his friends. As you approached their table, you unfortunately stumbled after stepping on your bootlace. With a small squeal, you found yourself tripping and falling onto someone's lap. 

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed.

Looking up, you noticed a smirk on his face as he replied,

"Not every day I have a pretty girl falling into my lap." Your cheeks flushed with heat as you realized it was Eddie Munson.

Quickly regaining your composure, you got up, apologized once more, and walked away.

“Pretty, huh? Anything come of the Amorem Enchantment?” Max asks as the group of you walk away. 

“I’m, not sure. Clover thinks she has it all figured out on who it is but I’m skeptical”  

“Okay” you see Max give the others a knowing look but you bite your tongue. You don’t want to jump to conclusions.

The next day, you and Robin are out running errands, preparing for the upcoming full moon in a few days. Your coven always gathers during the highest point of the moon to draw magic from the earth, strengthening your bond and powers. It's like recharging a battery; it's not necessary, as magic never fades, but it can lie dormant if not utilized correctly.

"Hey, isn't that Munson?" Robin acknowledges, catching your attention. Surprised to see him again so soon, after seven years of not crossing paths, now encountering him for the third time in 2 weeks. "I suppose it is," you respond.

"I hardly see him," Robin remarks, her tone implying something you don't appreciate. 

"And?" you question, raising an eyebrow.

"And nothing," she replies in a defensive tone. 

"Has Brutus been talking to Clover?" you ask, disliking the familiars' gossiping habits.

"I'm not a snitch," Robin retorts, prompting you to roll your eyes. 

Her owl never seems to know when to stay quiet.

"Are you stalking me, Sorceress?" Eddie startles you as he approaches from behind. "Going to fall for me again?" he teases, making you clear your throat. 

Eddie seems unsure why he left the shop. That feeling of being drawn to a particular place during his lunch break, was gnawing that the back of his head, which led him straight to you.

"Damn, Munson, creeping up on all the ladies?" Robin scolds, to which Eddie replies, 

"Nah, just Sorceress here," tilting his head as you feel a blush rising on your cheeks.

“Sorceress, huh?” Robin raises her brows at you. 

“He came to the Apothecary.” You defend. 

“Uh-huh,” she nods and smiles. Only confirming Clover and Brutus’ accusations. 

“Yep, well we better get going. Joyce is waiting. Good to see you.” You grab Robin and take off before Eddie can ask you what he’s been wanting to do since yesterday.

The Halloween Fall festival is usually your favourite event of the year. However this year you’ve been working more than enjoying the festivities. You’ve been in the tent most of the day, doing tarot readings and “fortune telling.” You’re exhausted and about to close up when a deep voice catches your attention.

“Guys I’m not doing it, it’s dumb.” 

“Too bad you lost the bet now go in there!” A younger-sounding guy demands. 

“It’s all hocus poc- woah” The man is pushed into view and you can’t believe your luck when it’s Eddie.

“All a bunch of Hocus Pocus, huh?”

Of course, he would be a non-believer. 

“Flip that sign to say Closed for me would ya?” You ask whilst shuffling the deck for hopefully the last time today.

“You trying to get me alone or something,” Eddie suggests but you ignore it. 

“Sit.” 

“Yes ma’am” Eddie smirks, pulling out the chair. 

With a big sigh, you shuffle the deck with your eyes closed. 

“What is it you want to know?” 

“Uh…” 

“A general reading it is. Fifteen dollars.” You motion to the glass jar and he scrambles to put the cash in. 

You feel that the cards are aligned so you go ahead a pull. The six cards are placed face down between you and Eddie. 

“Ready?” You smirk. 

“I guess.” He shrugs.

You flip the first card. 

“Chariot in Reverse. You feel like there is a lack of direction in your life. Like you’re on the right path but maybe a little lost. Like you took the wrong turn down the road.”

You flip the second card.

“Death.”

Eddie looks up at you. He looks scared, but you giggle.

“It’s not literal, it means new beginnings, change, metamorphosis. Like you’re finally finding your path.” You look up at him through your lashes and he lets out the breath he was holding in. 

“The lovers” you continue with a gulp and flip the next card, The Eight of Stars.

“There is hope for a new relationship forming.” You continue to flip the fifth card and of course, it’s The Empress.

“More growth and beauty to enter into this new relationship. “

“How do you know it’s new?” Eddie interrupts. 

This catches you off guard. It’s not like you can come out a say ‘I cast a love enchantment and you’re the only one who is consistently popping up in my life.’

“I’m a fortune teller. Duh” 

This makes Eddie giggle and relax a bit more, so you continue to the final card. 

“The Devil.” You sigh, and Eddie’s eyes blow wide again with wonder.

“It’s because I’m the town Satanist, isn’t it?” He accuses.

Once again you ignore him and continue.

“This relationship will be addictive, lustrous, seductive. You won’t be able to keep your hands off one another. You’re both going to fall and fall hard” Your eyes are locked in on one another. You want to look away but you can’t, you think he feels it too, the pull… 

When did you start leaning into one another? Your faces are so close, just a centimetre more and- you pull back immediately as the sound of the timer makes you both jump. 

“Well, times up thanks for coming” You stand and rush him out. 

“What? That’s it?” 

“Yep. Have fun at the festival!” You close the curtain in front of him before he can say another word. 

Eddie can’t believe what has just happened. He stood there awestruck but also very confused. 

“Dude, what happened?” Eddie’s friend Jeff shakes him. 

“Uh,” he scratches the back of his head “I have no fucking idea.” Eddie looked back over his shoulder at the tent but there was no movement at all. 

The situation with Eddie was consuming your day-to-day. Weeks have passed since the festival, and all you thought about was him. You finally are coming to terms that the enchantment is what is leading the two of you together, why deny it?

Eddie and you haven’t bumped into one another since the Halloween Festival and it’s been eating at you. After the tarot reading you realized you shouldn’t have pushed him away like that. What if you had scared him off? The magic can only do so much. 

Instead of moping around your house after work, hoping you bump into him. You decided to go to the grocery store strolling for some spices, your arsenal had been dwindling. 

Drifting off in your own little world, you hum with your headphones on as you try and reach for the cinnamon, of course, at the very back on the top shelf, you try and get it. You reach and reach on your highest tip toes looking like a fool, unable to use a summoning spell in public you curse whoever built these deep shelves. Just as you were about to look around to see if the coast was clear enough to use a little unharmful magic, you see a bare arm decorated with bats come from behind you grabbing the cinnamon sticks. 

“Hey do you mind-“ but you stop mid-sentence when they drop their hand down signalling for you to take it. 

“Thanks” You turn to see your knight in shining armour. Eddie.

“No big deal” he smiles. It’s a good smile. You observe him, losing focus you let down your guard. 

Eddie’s eyes widen with shock and you instantly put your guard back up. Your eyes must have given it away…

“You okay?” He asks placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you laugh it off, “why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Your eyes… they uh… they looked pink”

Pink?! Pink of all things! You mentally scold yourself.

“Oh uh. My contacts make your eyes irritated sometimes.” You play it cool… but Eddie and you both knew your irises were what changed colour, not the whites. 

“Uh-Hu” he nods, totally trying to not be freaked out, but also a little turned on? 

“Um,” you stand in awkward silence for half a minute. “Thank you for the help” You motion to the cinnamon and turn on your heel. 

“Wait!” He grazes your elbow now holding on too tight. 

“Can we, uh- I um.” He curses under his breath, “Would you like to go out with me?” He almost shouts and you. “Sorry. That was. You don’t have to…I just thought-“ 

“Eddie!” you cut him off.

He pauses realizing he never gave you a second to answer.

“I would love to.” You smile. Trying extra hard to stay focused because you know your eyes are a deep magenta under the glamour you hold. 

“Great! Okay,” he claps his hands together. “I‘ll call you!” He gestures his hand to make a phone by his ear and starts to walk away. 

“Wait! You don’t have my number!” You giggle. 

“Oh right,” he mentally scolds himself shaking his head shyly. 

After you gave Eddie your number, you cast a little memory spell just in case he misplaces the paper, (only for insurance purposes) did you make your way to Robin’s place. 

“Pink!” Robin screams.

“Keep your voice down!” 

Robin totally knew from the beginning that Eddie was the one you summoned. She was excited for you! She knows what love can bring to a person’s life. She and Nancy are lucky to experience it together, and she just wants you to be as happy as they are. 

“You got it B-A-D” she spells out. 

“I do not! I don’t even know him!”

“Pinnnnnnk” she leans in.

“Ugh.” You throw your hands up in defeat and you feel Clover snuggle herself into your lap. 

“Yeah, yeah, you were right.” You pet Clover's back. 

“So now what?” 

“He asked me out” You can’t help but smile, 

“Oh!” Robin points at you again. “Pink!”  She points at you. “I’m talking P-I-N-K!”

You never use your glamour around the coven because why would you? Your emotions could be read from a mile away. 

“What are you guys going to do?”

“I’m not sure, guess we wait to see where the magic takes us”

Nervously, you mix a soothing tonic to ease your racing heart. Deep down, you know that the fates have intertwined your paths for a reason... He feels like the one, yet the mystery surrounding him is overwhelming. This uncertainty fuels your anxiety.

This is the final first date you’ll ever experience, the last time you’ll open your heart to someone new. And for the first time, it feels as if everything is aligning perfectly. But lurking in the back of your mind is the daunting truth that you’ll eventually need to reveal your not-so-little secret.

What if he’s frightened by who you really are? What if he can’t accept it?

The thought of erasing his memories and losing the love of your life is almost too much to bear.

Getting ahead of yourself, lost in thought your attention is checked back into reality when your doorbell rings. With a beep breath, you answer the door. Stood there on your wooden porch was Eddie, looking so handsome. His hair was freshly washed, his shirt freshly ironed and tucked into his pants. He held a bouquet of small purple daisies and a nervous smile. 

“Woah,” he spoke as you opened the door. “You look incredible.” 

“Thank you, and so do you” You feel your cheeks fill with heat, and you pay extra attention to the glamour for your eyes. 

“Shall we?”

“Let’s” You hook your arm in his and he leads the way. 

“So where are you taking me?” You ask as you strap yourself in. 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, other than witchy stuff” he blushed, “so I thought it was safe to go to the Christmas market.” 

That you were not expecting, and unfortunately for Eddie, he could read it in your face 

“Oh, god, you hate it. I swore all girls love Christmas-“

“No Eddie it’s sweet, it’s just I don’t celebrate Christmas. Well I do, but it’s not what you would think. We, my friends and I, celebrate Yule. It’s Pagan.” 

“Pagan,” He hums to himself, “that’s badass.” 

This makes you giggle, and Eddie sighs with relief that you’re not annoyed at him. 

“There are a lot of Pagan holidays that the Christians stole from us and made their own, but I don’t want to bore you with the details.” You wave your hand dismissively. 

“No, I’d love to learn.” He looks at you earnestly. 

“You sure? I kind of ruined your plans, I still don’t mind going! I do love a good gingerbread cookie and hot chocolate.” You smile. 

“You sure?” 

“I am!” 

“I’m honoured, Sorceress” he smiles and puts his truck into drive.

You had an expectedly wonderful time at the Christmas festival, all thanks to Eddie. He made sure you were snug and warm, wrapping you up so the chill wouldn’t bite. As soon as you stepped through the gates, he treated you to hot chocolate and a gingerbread man.

The two of you shared endless laughter while attempting to ice skate, your conversations flowing effortlessly. Hours slipped by, and before you knew it, your toes were numb, signalling it was time to head home.

Parting ways felt bittersweet; you longed to keep the conversation going all night, but deep down, you knew that would be too much for a first date. The bond you shared was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and it was clear Eddie felt it, too. You could almost see the enchanting connection that drew you together, like shimmering golden dust swirling in the air, creating an invisible thread that linked your hearts.

As Eddie bid you goodnight, he bravely leaned in for a gentle kiss. It was like time stopped, all the puzzle pieces had failed into place. Even it if it was chaste, it was sweet and tender, and you could sense his nervousness, but you let him take his time, savouring the moment. A broad smile spread across your face, silently assuring him that you felt the same spark he did. 

“I’ll call you.” he winks as he walks down the dirt driveway.

You pray to Hecate he does. 

You’ve lost count of the amount of dates you and Eddie have been on. It’s been almost three months and you couldn’t be happier, but the anxiety of telling him about who you are has been clawing at the back of your mind and it needs to be soon. Joyce had warned you that if you don’t take action within the next few weeks then the window of opportunity will be sealed forever. 

It seemed too soon like you were rushing into it. You hadn’t even said I love you, and yet you were expecting him to agree to a life of immortality with you?

Tonight, you had built up the courage to tell him about yourself. You invited Eddie over to your place. He has been here many times, but you glamoured most of the house to look somewhat normal. You hid your runes and sigils that were carved into your door frames, your potions room was made to look like a dining room, and your altar was locked away in the basement.  

But tonight all of that would be revealed, hopefully, it would be a small amount of magic that would t make him go running for the hills. 

As you looked around one last time, you heard Eddie approach the door. 

With a deep breath, you feel Clover rub against your leg for reassurance. 

“Thanks, babe.” You pick her up and open the door to see Eddie with his hand in a fist, like he was about to knock. 

“How do you always do that” he smiles pulling you in for a kiss. You’re not sure how but he always makes your head spin with even the simplest of kisses. 

“Call it intuition…” 

You guide him into the kitchen and offer him a drink. He asked for a beer, and as you pour it into a glass, you may or may not have slipped a drop of that relaxing tonic you conjured up into it, just for insurance purposes. 

“Mmm thank you, babe” Eddie smiles and you giggle at the a beer foam moustache on his face.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” You lean in a kiss it away. 

“There, all better.” You lean back up to fix yourself a drink, a strong one. 

You’re unusually quiet as the night goes on, and Eddie can sense something is up. 

“You okay sweetheart?” He pushes your hair behind your shoulder as you both are curled up on the couch. 

“Yea… it’s just. I have to tell you something, and I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.” You twiddle with your almost empty glass in hand. 

“You can tell me anything, you know that? Eddie’s reassurance wasn’t helping, but it was nice that he truly thought that.

You take a big, deep breath in, trying to think back to how you rehearsed your lines in your head, and you begin.

“I want you to know that I care about you a lot.” You don’t miss Eddie’s eyes light up as you continue, “and I know what I am about to share is not what you’re going to expect, but you have to believe me that it changes nothing.” You look him deep in the eyes. 

“You’re freaking me out, babe.” He laughs nervously, so you take both his hands in yours. 

“It’s nothing bad, I promise.” 

He chuckles uncomfortably once again.

“I’m not… like… other women.” 

“No, you are not.” He wiggles his brows trying to lighten the mood.” 

“Eddieeee” you draw out his name, “I’m serious.” 

“Sorry, I‘ll be a good boy… for now.” You can’t help but roll your eyes.

Eddie laughs at your dramatics, but when your eyes roll back, making eye contact with him, he notices they’re not the same colour. They’re deep orange, almost auburn. 

“Sweetheart, what’s going on” he tries to pull his hands away but you hold them tight.

“I told you, baby, I’m not like other women, I’m… different.” You thought letting the glamour of your eyes would help soften the blow but now you’re not so sure. 

“Your eyes! They.. they’re orange!” 

Eddie can’t look away, his face contorted with confusion. 

“It’s because I’m anxious.” 

“What does that mean?” He can’t look away. “Please, I want to understand.” 

It wasn’t like he was scared more confused than anything. 

“I’m a Witch, Eddie.” And with that you let the house revert to how it is supposed to be. 

A guest of wind blew through the house and with it was unveiled the old wood, deep rich jewel tones painted on the walls, tapestries, the portraits of old coven members long gone, the broom sweeping by itself, the clean dishes being levitated to their correct spots.

Eddie was frozen, his jaw was moving up and down but no words were coming out. He looked around the changed room frantically but also did not want to look away from you. It’s not that he thought you would hurt him, no. He felt things for you that he’s never felt for one singular person… but now he isn’t so sure. 

“This is insane” Eddie stood and your heart broke a little as you saw him start walking. Almost running to the door. 

“Eddie, please! Let me explain! Don’t be scared!”

“Don’t be scared?! There is a broom moving by itself” he shouts. 

“Please” you beg but it was of no use. 

“Just, give me a second” he spoke before slamming the door behind him he leaves you alone in your big empty house. 

Your eyes well up as you feel clover brush your ankles. Nudging you towards the door. 

She was telling you to go after him, but how could you? You terrified him, your worst fears coming to reality. 

“Clove, I can’t” 

Yes, you can. She spoke to you telepathically. 

As your familiar nudged you with her fluffy little head you stepped closer and closer toward the door. 

Through the stained glass you could see a figure pacing up and down the dirt driveway. 

“He didn’t leave” you whispered out loud. 

See, you look down and Clover is eying you. 

You decided to put the glamour back up, in case your eyes still freaked him out. 

“Eddie” you call out tentatively. 

“Babe, just… I need a minute” his breathing was heavy, his face contorted with confusion and he was mumbling to himself. 

To think you’re the crazy one in this situation…

On the bright side, he still called you babe, and not by your name. 

“Okay,” you stand awkwardly on the porch and wait for him to calm down.

After what felt like hours Eddie built up the courage to glance at you. His heart fluttered at the sight of you. Not because he was scared or nervous but because he knew you were it for him. Even after he digested the bomb you just dropped on him, he knew he wanted to be with you. 

“You are one freaky girl” he pointed as he walked towards the porch steps.

“I thought you liked freaky” You can’t help but flirt. It came so naturally to him. 

“You have no idea” he pulled you in for a hug. A suffocating, bone-crushing hug. One that told you he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Ok let’s talk,” he pulled away and you led him back in the house. 

You started from the beginning, explaining the coven, how your parents were also magical, but had been off gallivanting through the Betwixed realm for years now. 

“So, are you like 100 years old?” He smirks, and you smack his bicep. 

“No, I’m exactly how old I told you I am” 

“Sorry,” he laughed. 

You explain how the magic works, and he asks you if you’ve ever used any on him. 

“The only thing I have used in you is a tonic to calm you but it obviously didn’t work. Guess I needed more for you,” you half laugh to yourself. 

“That’s it? Really?” 

“Technically, yes.” you pause. and he waits silently for you to explain. “I performed an enchantment to find you.” You twiddle the hem of your skirt nervously. 

“Oh?”

“It wasn’t you, specifically, more like a nudge to point us both in the right direction.”

“So that’s why I had that feeling to go somewhere and I hadn’t known why? That’s why I walked into your shop!” He snapped his fingers as he put the pieces together.

“Yeah,” you smile. 

“So you desperately wanted me?” He moved closer, inviting your space. 

“Desperate?” You gasp.

“Yes, little Witch” he placed a gentle finger on your chin, nudging you to look at him. 

“We would have found one another eventually, it was written in the starts. Isn’t that what your cards told us?” 

“But we are running out of time” you confess. 

“What?” Eddie pulled back.

“There is this… rule, I guess you could call it? If a witch finds a mortal match, then they only have a small window to perform a ritual to make their loved one immortal, like them.” 

“Immortal?” 

“Yes, Eddie.” You sigh, “I can live forever if I want. We have life-extending magic, I don’t age the same. Our aging slows down as of the twentieth year of a witch’s life. I will look like this for the next sixty-five years probably.”

“Woah” Eddie whispers. 

“And the thought of us going through life together with you growing old and dying.” You choke back tears. 

“Hey, hey” Eddie soothed, and you took a deep breath. 

“But there is something we can do.” You sniffle. 

“I know it’s so soon, and a bit crazy. But I can promise you forever with me if that’s what you choose” 

Eddie’s eyes widen at the offering, “you don’t have to give me an answer now, but I will need to know soon, maybe a month or so.” 

“Then what?”

“Then I perform the ritual, or I wipe your memory clean of any of this” You can’t help your voice from cracking. 

“Oh,” Eddie looks down in disappointment. 

“Yeah….” A single purple tear falls down your cheek. 

You look up at Eddie and he sees your eyes are a deep blue, so blue Eddie knows what that feeling means. Sadness, despair, suffering. 

“So I live forever with you, or we break up?” 

“Yeah,” you sombrely nod your head. 

“What if I choose to live forever then, let’s say in a hundred years we decide to break up… then what?”

“That won’t happen, it doesn’t work like that.” 

“How do you know?” 

“The fates decided Eddie. When I cast the Amorem enchantment it draws the best two people suited for one another. Think of it like a soul mate match. We will never find another one suited for us.”

“What if I just want to live a normal life with you and not be immortal?” 

“Then I’m going to look like this and you’ll be a wrinkled old prune… and eventually I would watch you die and know that I’ll never have another love like ours.” 

“That dosen’t seem any better.” He sighs

“No, it’s much worse actually” You play with Eddie’s fingers as he contemplates his future. 

“I think I’m going to need something a bit stronger than this beer” he laughs half heartedly. 

“I have just the thing” 

After you whipped up a mood-boosting elixir, your night with Eddie became much easier to get through. The damper had been lifted as you and Eddie got drunk off the potion, boosting your serotonin levels. 

Eddie had never been so carefree and you were begging to feel much more positive about your future with Eddie. Maybe it was false hope in the fates, but you also trusted your magic. 

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie and you were in your bed, tucked in after a long night of just wanting to be close to each other.

“Sure” Eddie scoops you into his chest. 

“Are mermaids real? Because I would love to— ouch!” 

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence” you had pinched his nipple. Were you jealous? Maybe a little, but mermaids were vile creatures, nothing like Disney cracked them up to be. 

“Are they real?” Eddie flinched. 

“Unfortunately” 

“Cool!”

“What about Vampires?”

“Yep.”

“Werewolves?”

“Yep.”

“Unicorns?”

“Come on Eddie don’t be ridiculous” you snort.

“What? So witches, vampires, mermaids and werewolves are all real but the universe draws the line at unicorns?!” 

You burst out into a fit of giggles and before Eddie can even stop to think about what he is staying the words come tumbling out. 

“God, I love you.”  

The room falls quiet, no longer are you laughing. 

“I uh- I mean-“

“I love you, too” You lean down to kiss him. 

That nearly invisible force connecting you was now clear as day, to you at least. The magical pull that binds the two of you is now completed, and will never be broken. 

A faint glow filled the room as Eddie and your lips connected, a warmth was felt throughout your whole body, you were sure Eddie felt it too. The magical thread that connected you, whether Eddie accepted the fates or not… even if you wiped his memory of you, you both would still be able to feel it. No matter how long or how far apart you were. 

“Really? You love me?” Eddie asks. 

“I just asked you to spend forever with me, and you’re questioning if I love you?” 

“I just wanted to hear you say it again.” His lips brushed yours ever so slightly. 

“I love you, Eddie Munson” 

“I love you, little Witch.”

You let down your guard, the magic swirled in flecks of silver and gold light around the two of you as you lay on top of Eddie’s chest. His eyes widen at the sight above him. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever encountered. 

“Woah” he gasped, awestruck at the floating lights. “I think I could get used to this magic thing”

You let out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding. Like a weight was lifted once you heard Eddie’s acceptance. Finally, you felt hopeful about your future. 

It’s been a week and a half since your confession to Eddie and things are going surprisingly well. His fascination is ever-growing as he keeps coming up with questions to ask you. The nature of your reality was sinking in, he was enamoured with the thought of you being supernatural. He wanted to learn, and you were happy to teach you were happy he accepted you for who you are and not pushing you away from fear. 

You hadn’t brought up the offer since that night, you were waiting for him to let you know his decision,  but you were hopeful because of his fascination. 

Today was a lazy day, you both have the rare day off at the same time, so Eddie was over and you were cuddling on the couch when he spoke up.

“I want to do it.”

“Do what, babe?”

“Forever with you.”

“Really?” a broad smile spreads across your face. nothing could keep you from your eyes turning yellow. 

Eddie still wasn’t quite used to all your magical quirks. However, he loved that your true mood could be read just by looking into your eyes. He loved learning what each colour meant, especially when they were red. 

“Really.” Eddie gave you a chaste kiss before pulling away to ask how the whole spell thing worked. 

“I think you’re going to like it.” You smirk knowingly.

Sometime later, you were finally finished downstairs in your altar room. The circle of protection chalked on the floor. The muddled herbs, bark and flowers boiled down into a paste, and your grimour propped open onto the spell you needed. 

The room was only lit by candlelight, twenty or so, spread across the room. 

You reach for Eddie’s hand and guide him down the stairs. 

“You must be sure this is one hundred percent what you want. It will not work if you are not willing to give up your mortality.”

“I’ve never been so sure about anyone.” 

“Okay, let us begin” You smirk, knowing Eddie has no idea what he is getting himself into. 

“Strip, please” 

“Oh,” he raises a brow. Then he sees it. Your red eyes. “Ohhh” He quickly discards his clothing. 

You watch as his cock is already stiffening. 

“Now be a good boy and step into the circle and lay down,” you ask while also discarding your garments. 

Eddie quickly obeys your orders. 

“Would you like me to explain the steps before or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“Will it hurt?”

“No” 

“Surprise me.” Eddie didn’t think his cock could be any harder. The anticipation was foreplay enough. 

You begin the ritual with a deep breath, stepping into the circle with your crystal bowl you straddle Eddie. You scoop the paste you created and create sigils over eddies chest with them while chanting in a language Eddie didn’t recognize. 

“Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty.” 

Your hips start to gride on Eddie’s as you get lost in the chant. Your magic starts to take over your body as you get lost in all of it. The feeling, the love, the magic. Your red eyes were now glowing pure white. Eddie gazed up at you in awe as you continued chanting. He was not sure if you were still here with him or if something had taken over your body. 

“Fuck.” Eddie slips and your hand covers his mouth before your pussy slips his cock inside. 

Possessed by the magic you were channelling, your body performs the spell. The faster you chanted, the faster you fucked Eddie. 

Sex with you had been amazing, but nothing had compared to this. He loved the thrill of this, there was no way he would change his mind.

Eddie tried to tell you he was going to come, unsure if he was allowed to yet. But your hand still muffled his mouth.

You felt him deep in your gut, His thick cock stretching your walls, hitting every spot you needed. Euphoria was essential to the spell and Eddie sure was holding up his end of it. 

You heard muffled mumbles come for Eddie and you released your hand from his mouth. You were so far into the chanting that you couldn’t be stopped now even if Eddie tried to interrupt. 

“Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty. Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty.” 

Eddie thinks those words will be etched into his memory forever. 

His hands roam your body before planting them on your hips. He couldn’t help himself he had to have it harder. Planting his feet on the ground, Eddie snaps his hips up into you, meeting your pace. The wet sounds of skin-on-skin echo through the basement walls, faster and faster, louder and louder. Your voice trumps the delicious sounds of sex, and then it hits you both. Your mind-numbing, explosive orgasms rip through each of you. Your bodies shake, and you let out a loud cry of pure bliss.

A blinding white light fills the room, blowing out all the candles you lit before they relate themselves. You collapse on top of Eddie, exhausted by the amount of magic youve performed. 

Breathless you and Eddie stay connected. 

“It is done?” Eddie asks in a daze, not sure if he is supposed to feel any different. 

Without enough energy to speak, you nod your head against Eddie’s chest. 

“You’re incredible, little Witch.”  and that is the last thing you remember before falling asleep. 

You wake up, your cheek cemented to Eddie’s tattoo-clad chest. 

“There she is.” Eddie storks your hair. 

“How long was I out?” you mumble, rubbing the sleep from our eyes. 

“An hour, I can only guess.” 

Eddie shifted and you felt him still inside of you so you grind your soar hips so he slips further in.

“You’re a succubus.” 

“You wish” You kiss his neck. “How do you feel?” 

“Like I could move a mountian.” Eddie sighs as you grind down on him, cock growing with each push. 

“Mmmm, good” you hum. 

Eddie could no longer take it, even though he had the best orgasm of his life an hour ago, you were like a drug to him. He wanted more. 

Flipping you around so you are on your back, Eddie spreads your legs further apart, watching how his cock buried deep within you.

You admire the now permanent sigil etched into his skin like a tattoo. You didn’t even know if Eddie was aware of the new ink that came with forever existence, but that all gets erased when his hips jerk so deeply within you that your eyes turn a colour Eddie has never seen before. The most beautiful deep purple. 

“Baby" you moan. 

“Fuck, little Witch,” you can’t help but clamp down on him. 

“Oh you like that don’t you, Sorceress.” 

“Y-yes” you tremble.” 

Eddie can’t believe how powerful he feels; you’ve granted him this gift and he needs to show his appreciation in return. 

He pulls out, and you plead, but not for long because he buries his face between your legs. Your sweet slick coats his tongue as it dances around your clit. 

“More” You plead. Your hips gride down on his chin, and the stubble on his cheeks scrapes your inner thighs. 

“I’ll give you anything you want.” He was yours to serve. His tounge swirls around your extra sensitive clit.

“Make me cum.” 

A wave of pleasure hits you hard when Eddie pushes his cock back inside your needy cunt. With each thrust, he works himself through your orgasm, making your head spin; wave after wave consumes your body. You feel his hands graze your nipples, tweaking them and making you clench down on him even tighter. 

With Eddie’s head thrown back, sweat dripping down his chest glittering the candle light he looked like a deity. 

After one more final thrust Eddie collapses on top of you. 

“That was amazing.” He nuzzles into your neck and you can’t help but agree. 

When Eddie finally pulls out, you feel a rush of release come out with him. 

“You’re a messy little Witch, aren’t you?”

“Me?” 

“Yes” he slips a finger through your slit collecting your combined cum and you jerk away, your cunt all so sensitive. 

“Well, you’re the one who asked for it” you smirk. 

“I would be an idiot to deny being with you like this for eternity”

“You think so?” 

“Know so.”

tags : @ghostlyfleur @veemoon @abitchyouhate @thewayitalknj @mediocredreams @deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth @daisy-munson @strawberrycheesecakedelight @just-random-thoughts-and-things @oneforthemunny @gagasbee @abirdinthehouse @saintlvcifer @hauntedfawnn @eerielamb @munson-blurbs @hellfire--cult @andvys @pollenallergie

[lqveharrington]

steve harrington - you are in love <3

congrats on 2k!

You Are In Love | S.H.

summary: you and steve have been best friends forever, but overtime, you both realize that there's something more to your friendship than you both thought there was.

pairing: steve harrington x hopper!reader

includes: fluff, minimal usage of Y/N, oblivious idiots, kissing, el and reader are siblings, robin and max play match maker

a/n: cutie patootie stevie! (rules for celebration here!)

Steve Harrington was the type of man girls would go crazy over. From the way he behaved to the way he dressed, they would do anything to get his attention. Luckily for you, he deemed you to be his best friend since childhood. When Tommy and Carol whined about you always hanging around them in high school, Steve would swiftly change the subject. He really only liked hanging out with you anyway.

When you both graduated, something shifted between the two of you. Without the hindrance of Tommy and Carol, you and Steve were free to do whatever you wanted. Whenever you would hang around him, it felt like time would stop. He kept you on your toes despite knowing him for so long.

Weekly dinners around Hawkins during the year would soon become a tradition between the two of you. In your eyes they were friendly dates, but to the kids, you were practically dating. From the whispers as you hung back with him when taking the kids around the mall to the silver necklace he bought you during the summer — they saw something you and Steve couldn't.

They had to do something about it. Fortunately for them, you both made it quite easy.

"Harrington, are you taking me to dinner today or should we reschedule?" You hop onto the counter of Family Video, crossing your legs and smiling brightly at him. "Henderson told me you might have to drive him home after his DND thing or whatever."

"First of all," He started and pulled your legs to the side, sending you a bored look. "I'm at work and you can't bother me." You jokingly pout and follow his movements, watching him restock the bowl of candies at the front. "Secondly, we're still on for dinner. Dustin can get a ride from Munson."

You throw your head back and laugh, "Ah yes, the shared custody of your child."

He rolled his eyes and looked past your head, narrowing his eyes at Max and Eleven. "Why did the girls want to come here again?"

"Uhm, they said they were checking out a new movie that came out." You shrug and slide off the counter. You look in their direction to find them giggling and whispering about something you almost wanted to know about. Almost. "Anyway, don't miss me too much. I'll see you in a few hours, Harrington."

Steve pressed a kiss to the side of your head and pushed a stray piece of hair away from your face. "I'll see you in a bit, Hopper."

You grinned at him and sent him one last wave before rounding up the girls, dragging them back to your car. Before you could even ask them to buckle up, they began hounding you with questions you never expected them to ask. One of the more odd questions sticking out the most.

"Have you ever slept with Steve?" Eleven asked, making you whip around with wide eyes and mouth agape. Her own eyes widened in fear and looked at you with concern. "What?"

Your face flushed a dark red and you began to stutter over your words, unsure of where the question even originated from. "Well, I— No, I haven't but I'm— I'm sorry? What's happening? Do you even know what that means?"

"That you sleep in the same bed as him." She tilted her head and giggled at your red face. "Is that not what that means?"

Max shook her head but found it all amusing, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows at you. "You seem a little flustered, Hopper. What's up with that?"

"Nothing." You glare at her from your rear view as you pull out of the parking and begin the drive to her house. When Eleven still stared in confusion, you sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. "Yes, I have slept in the same bed as Steve before. And not like that, Mayfield."

"What?"

You shake your head and follow the road down, eyes occasionally flickering up to look at the girls who were still giggling. You didn't understand what they were trying to get at. You've always been able to sleep in the same bed as Steve since an incident years ago, but that was the extent of it all. Sure, you would occasionally sleep in one of his shirts and he would make you breakfast in the mornings, but that was it.

"Have you ever been on a date, Y/N?" Eleven asked again and fiddled with the ends of her sweater, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. "Like the ones me and Mike go on?"

"Uh," You signal and stop at a red light, fingers tapping the steering wheel in an effort to keep your cool. "I have, but it's been a while since I've been on a date."

As you turn, Eleven makes another comment that nearly makes you swerve right off the road. "I thought you and Steve were dating."

You choke on your spit and grip the wheel harder, face redder than Max's hair. Although you knew your sister's words were somewhat innocent, you knew the other girl was behind all the questioning. Steve was nothing but a friend to you. Your best friend. It would be weird to think of him as anything other than that, right?

Since childhood, he was nothing but your best friend. Sometimes you couldn’t help but think what would happen if anything else came out of it, but only in your dreams. When you realized how quiet you were, you silently cursed yourself for staying silent for too long as the girls came to their own conclusion.

"He kisses you a lot." Max drawled and bit back a smirk when your face reddens again, the sight nearly making her laugh once more. "Like more than you study for your exams in college—"

"What will it take for you two to be quiet for the rest of the ride?" You continue to glare at the red-head in the backseat and squint when she opened her mouth. "And your answer will not be money."

Max sighed and looked at Eleven, their eyes meeting and silently communicating with each other. They grinned wickedly and looked over at you, tone overly sweet when they answered your question.

"Admit you're in love with Steve Harrington."

"Oh, Stevie!" Robin grinned widely as she sauntered back in from the break room, leaning back against the counter. She met his confused eyes and tilted her head, still wearing a mischievous grin. "I have a tiny, little question for you."

Steve dug through the boxes underneath the table and waved his hand, barely listening to the girl. "Which is?"

"Could I just — I dunno — take a peek at your wallet?” She asked and pursed her lips to stop from laughing when she saw his incredulous expression peek from underneath the counter. “I just want to make sure my assumptions are right.”

"About what?" Steve sighed in exasperation and ran his fingers through his hair, praying that his hair still looked perfect after how many times he had done it.

"Just give me your stupid wallet." Robin huffed and snatched the leather from his hands. She scrunched her nose at him before opening the wallet, gasping when she found what she was looking for. "Oh my gosh."

Steve creased his brows and looked at the contents of his wallet. There was nothing but cash, his license, cards, and picture he’s had since high school. If Robin was planning on stealing, she picked the wrong day.

"What?"

"You do have a picture of Y/N in your wallet!" Robin all but squealed like a child, causing the customers in the store to look over at the commotion.

Steve sent them a strained smile before grabbing his wallet back from Robin and tucking it away, muttering quiet obscenities to the girl. Robin rolled her eyes, but the smirk that curled her lips overtook her emotions. He knew that some kind of electricity between the two oblivious idiots.

"You like her!" She spoke in a sing-song voice, lightly punching his shoulder. Robin laughed in excitement and shook her head before pausing, turning to look at Steve like a behavioral analyst. "Unless it's something more."

He looked to his left and to his right before raising a brow at her. He would never admit it out loud, but somewhere along the line he fell for you. Hard. From summer car drives to coffee at midnight — you were the one for him. Yet he didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had.

When Steve stayed silent for too long, she started to punch his shoulder in excitement again. It was the silence between asking about love that seemed to trigger everyone today.

"Oh, you're in love! Steve 'the hair' Harrington finally falls in love with his one true love!" She dramatically put a hand to her forehead and leaned back on the counter again. "I thought I would never live to see the day that happens."

He huffed and lightly shoved her, rubbing his hand over his face. "She's my best friend."

"And?" Robin pushed him back and continued to smile, clearly finding his reaction amusing. It wasn’t rare for her to tease him about his dates, but knowing that he was deeply in love with you made it so much more fun. "She clearly likes you too."

"She does?" Steve perked up and rolled his eyes when she winked at him. He flipped her off and pretended to be busy again. “You’re so annoying.”

"Stevie is in love!" She laughed again and sighed softly, tapping her fingers against the counter. "You're going to dinner with her tonight, right?"

He sent her an odd look and nodded, brows furrowing in confusion. "Yeah, what does that—?"

"Confess tonight! I'm sure she loves you too, Harrington." She slammed her palms down onto the counter, once again attracting the customers in the store. Steve sent them another apologetic look before turning his head to glare at the girl. By the end of the day, he swore that they would get a complaint about Robin.

Robin put a hand up to his face when she saw he was going to speak. “And before you back out, the girls and I already made a plan so nothing becomes awkward between the two of you if it fails."

Steve’s eyes widened and pushed her hand out of the way, mind reeling at all the knew information. "Wait what?"

"Nothing!"

After dinner, you both decided to take a walk around the neighborhood. The temperature was perfect and you and Steve had plenty of calories to kill before heading to bed. Besides, you both had unspoken words to say to one another.

"Are you okay? You've been acting strange since you picked me up." You nudged your shoulder with his and tilted your head, eyes worried with concern.

As you walked through the neighborhood, the orange lights from the posts began to flicker on as the sun set in front of you. On instinct, you moved closer to Steve, accommodating to the warmth you were losing. He hid a small smile and pulled you close by the shoulders.

Steve shrugged and kissed the side of your head again. The gears in his head were loudly turning and he wasn’t sure how to make them stop. He met your eyes and smiled softly when you smiled up at him.

"On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate the new diner?" He nudged his head back toward the diner.

You hummed and tapped your chin in thought, snapping your fingers when you figured out how to put it. "A solid six and a half. They threw us a dirty glare for being too loud, but their milkshakes were perfect."

He raised his brows and chuckled softly when you rolled your eyes at him. You were always such a sucker for strawberry milkshakes. "Yeah?"

"Yes, Harrington.” You send him a teasing smile before extending your arm and flashing him your left hand adorned with the wrapping from the straw wrapper. “I even got to make us our paper rings."

You turned to face him properly and grabbed his left hand, lacing them together to show the matching rings. You went to say something else when you found him already staring at you, making your mind instantly blank.

Steve swallowed and squeezed your hand, taking a step closer to you. "Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You murmur and take your own step closer until you were chest to chest.

His gaze dropped to your lips before looking back into your eyes, eyes filled with so much emotion. You gave him a curt nod and let him cup your cheek, shutting your eyes when he leaned in.

Your lips met and for the first time, you really believed time truly stopped. It was just you and him on the sidewalk of Hawkins, Indiana. Your own hands came up to grab the lapels of his denim jacket, deepening the kiss when he pulled you impossibly closer.

When you finally pulled away, your mind was still blanking and the first thing you could say was —

"Oh, my strawberry milkshake." You whisper out before groaning, hiding your face in his shoulder. "Now the thing I say after we first kiss will always be strawberry milkshake!"

Steve kisses the top of your head and gently squeezed your waist. "You're cute."

You scoff before looking up, playing with the buttons on his jacket. "Did Robin put you up to this?"

"Yep." He chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, narrowing his eyes at you when he realized what Robin meant. "Did the girls?"

"Yep." You sigh and push up on your toes to give him a quick peck. You tilt your head when he smiles, "We're not going to tell them about this and make them feel bad, right?"

"Of course not.” He laced his hands with yours and began the trek back to his car. "We're only best friends after all."

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[millersfinest]

untethered | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 7.4k

series: chapter one (you’re here!), chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: lmao flip phones, some vulgar language, ellie cheating on her gf (kind of), the millers, r is a writer, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, some physical violence, adopted kid trauma (shoutout to all the adopted kids!!), hella angst, repressed emotions, a little bit of mature content, eventual smut.

note: i have too much confidence writing for ellie. but here’s another series im starting because i realized the plot is too much for a single work on here, hence the 7 thousand words ijbol. hope you guys enjoyyy.

It was quieter upstate. Breathable and airy—you missed it more than anything. As much as you loved living in Manhattan, there was nothing like the countryside. Waking up to the sound of birds chirping and roosters crowing. Hearing the excited neighing from the horses you birthed and took care of. It was refreshing to be home again.

And, of course, you missed your parents.

They adopted you as a troubled child, and you’ve considered yourself lucky ever since. Babies and younger children were often the ones to be pulled from inconsistent foster homes, but they chose you. A pierced, attitude-ridden, thirteen-year-old who liked smoking cigarettes because they made you look cooler than you felt. And it helped you cope with the lasting effects of neglectful parents.

That trauma didn’t just disappear once Tommy and Maria entered your life. It was something that grew from nothing, and they were adamant in making your transition as comfortable as possible. You never experienced anything like it before them. Their strictness and structure did the opposite of what most would think. You went from sneaking out and smoking cigarettes to staying up late studying and finishing your favorite novels—still smoking cigarettes, though, but out your window. It was hard habit to break.

Once you realized that they could be trusted and had your best interest at heart, you gave them the right to parent you. Sure, it wasn’t easy. The three of you argued many, many times—but you respected them more than you have anyone else. Really, just for tolerating you.

The Miller’s were always very family oriented and social. Sunday nights always managed to be a grand event—Tommy grilling in the acred backyard, Maria handling the food items that could be cooked inside, and you diligently decorating and setting the table. Football Sundays were always the worst, but they were great memories to think about. That was the first time you met, basically, the love of your life at the time. Ellie Williams.

It was 1995 when you had completely fallen in love with her—only knowing her for around three years. Joel Miller wasn’t really her father, or adoptive father, he was just somebody who took care of her. He owned a guitar shop that sold, obviously, guitars and other instruments alike; as well as holding lessons for those wanted to learn how to play.

The story goes: Joel was working the register on a very slow day when Ellie showed up. There was a shiner on her eye, but she insisted that she was fine—asking for lessons with crumbled cash and dirty coins. She couldn’t afford the lessons on her own, so he gave her a job and proceeded with teaching her how to play.

She grew up similar to you; hidden under the confines of foster care. The only difference was, she was never adopted. At least not until the age of seventeen, when she’d spent so much time with Joel that she had a decorated bedroom in his house. They both had commitment issues, but after Tommy convinced him to do the paperwork… He did. Surprising her on her seventeenth birthday. However, the outcome didn’t really go to plan. Not how anyone would have expected it.

It was 1997 when she completely broke your heart… Not to be cheesy or anything.

Her seventeenth birthday was hosted at your house, on the farm. You knew her the most out of everyone, so you made it your mission to make this the best birthday ever. Decorating had become a hobby of yours after so many Sunday dinners—you spent all day stringing up lights and colorful streamers. Maria helping you out with a homemade cake that said: Happy Birthday Els! You were too anxious to write the words yourself, so you let her do it instead. You were even sure to invite the friends you shared; demanding they each brought presents to show how much they cared about her.

Joel had showed up before she did; just in time so they could all hide and jump out with big smiles on your faces when Ellie arrived. You would always remember the feeling of hearing the rumbling of her truck coming to a stop. And the shy smile on her face when everyone jumped out from behind furniture—blowing birthday kazoo’s. It was picturesque!

Dina had trotted over to her, snapping a blue paper cone birthday hat over her head. While you walked over with her birthday cake in your hands, brightened with seventeen candles. “Happy seventeenth, Ellie.” You had spoken, warmly. A bashful grin spreading onto your lips. She looked at you with such awe in that moment. Blowing out her candles and kissing your cheek, muttering a blushing ‘I fuckin’ love you’.

You knew about her surprise adoption papers before the party had started, excitement running through your veins when Joel meandered toward her—handing her an envelope of hope. Ellie took it, eyeing him, skeptically. “Open it!” You urged—that was your mistake.

Chortling, she broke open the envelope, not caring if it tore. When she pulled out the certificate, reading the words on the page, her entire face dropped. “Adoption papers?” Her eyes squinted in disgust, glaring at Joel. The smile fell from your face, lips parting in slight shock. Her olive eyes glanced around the room, seeing the fallen expressions clouding everyone’s features. Landing on your fallen face, briefly—a look exclaiming, ‘how could you’. Freckled cheeks heating up in embarrassment and… Anger. “Joel, what the fuck?” She blinked at him, shoving the papers into his chest, then storming out of the house. Hands ripping the hat from the top of head, throwing it to the ground. The screen door creaking obnoxiously as she exited. It all happened so fast.

He quickly followed her out, calling for her, desperately.

Awkwardly, you turned to the frozen people around you. “Anybody want cake? It’s german c— chocolate.” You stammered, trying to keep your composure. Looking to Maria and Tommy for some sort of consolation, you frowned, placing the cake on the counter before fleeing to the bathroom.

You clenched at the roots of your hair, pacing around the bathroom. You could hear remnants of a solo screaming match from outside the bathroom window, causing you to grit your teeth. The papers were supposed to be a good thing! Ellie had always been a hothead—easily agitated like a stray kitten is distress. There were even moments where the two of you went at it. Until one of you caved, begging for affection as an apology. Your nerves burned at the idea of her not liking the surprise—was that selfish?

Instead of remaining in the bathroom, you swung open the door with your eyes fixed on the front door. Hands clenched at your sides, you walked through the kitchen, where Tommy tried to liven up the mood by handing out pieces of cake.

He tried calling your name, but you brushed him off, pushing open the screen door with an attitude that could be felt with every step you took. The brisk autumn air hit your exposed skin, the long-sleeve striped shirt not doing much to keep you warm.

Striding around the side of the house, you seen Joel and Ellie having a stern conversation. But by the time your eyes landed on them, they were in a beat of silence. Joel shaking his head with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Ellie had her arms stubbornly crossed, frowning. When her eyes found yours, he turned around to leave. “She’s all yours…” He solemnly sighed, walking back into the house. The adoption papers crumbled up in his hands.

Biting your bottom lip, you approached her with your arms crossed for warmth. “What happened, Ellie?” Your voice dragged, tiredly. There was something always wrong with her. “We just wanted to do something nice for you… Why’d you have to go and ruin it—?”

“Oh, I’m the one who ruined it?” She scoffed, a sneer resting on her lips. “I’m not the one who brought the fucking adoption papers!” Ellie exclaimed, gesturing broadly with her hands. When she was up in arms, she always gesticulated more. “Did you have anything to do with this? Because if you did—“

You interrupted her with scrutinizing glare. “So, what if I did? I thought this would make you happy, Ellie… Don’t you understand?”

“You had me open that in front of everyone knowing what was inside— and you thought that’d make me happy?” Her lips arched in disgust. “Clearly, you don’t know me at all.” Her words were venomous, lips twitching in anger.

There was nobody who understood you more than Ellie, and vice versa. You just got each other because you came from similar backgrounds—that was your glue. You don’t know me at all. That was new.

With your eyes growing warm with tears, your tongue rolled in your mouth. “I spent all day setting this up… For you. Because I love you, Ellie. I don’t know you— that’s bullshit if I ever heard it.” Your voice cracked, but you refused to let a tear run down your cheek. This was no time for tears—if she could get angry, so could you.

“I’ve known you long enough to have some semblance of understanding on why you’re upset, right now— that’s for damn sure.” You paused, averting your eyes to concentrate on keeping your rising emotions at bay. She watched you, cheeks still red with anger. “I’m gonna give you ten minutes— ten, Ellie! If you don’t get your ass back in there in next ten fucking minutes…” You lick your lips, shaking your head. “We’re over. Done!”

Giving a final glare, you turned to head back inside. “I can’t keep dealing with this shit.” You mutter, under your breath.

“So that’s what it is… Dealing with me?” Ellie voiced, a sliver of disappointment slipping in her moment of anger.

Wiping your cheeks, you peered over your shoulder. “What?”

“You got this perfect little life… Huh?” She began, approaching you intimidatingly. “The loving parents, the farmhouse— you became the perfect daughter for them… Gets the grades, does everything she can to appease them. This fuckin’ fantasy world that you chose to live in all because you wanted someone to love you… Fuckin’ pathetic.”

“Ellie…” You warned.

“Well, newsflash, little-miss-perfect— not everybody wants that! Not everybody wants to play pretend for the rest of their fucking life just to be—“

It happened before you could stop it, fists clenching at your sides as she bad mouthed you till oblivion. Your soft spot—and she knew all about that. Both of you grew up as kids who got into fights and disputes more times than anyone could count; you just decided to clean up your act. However, that troubled twelve to thirteen-year-old still resided inside of you. And, in that moment, she wasn’t your doting girlfriend—she was someone punching down on you.

Your knuckles collided with the side of her face, knocking into her cheek bone. Features scowling as if she were a stranger. Ellie stumbled, holding onto her face with surprised eyes. For a second the version of her you loved came through, but she quickly recovered. Her lips curling at the ends, taunting you. “I knew you still had it in you… You’re no better than me.”

There it was.

Not only was it the straw that broke the camels back—it was the truth. The ultimate truth. Behind all of your petty little arguments. Behind all her wild bursts of anger. She was jealous of you. Grunting behind your teeth, you charged at her. Taking the collar of her jacket as her back hit the gravelly ground. Straddling her, you didn’t hear the rushing feet hitting the porch. You could feel her hands settling loosely on your calves, only angering you more. “I did the fucking work— nobody else but me!” Tears poured down your cheeks. “I am better than you. Because I fucking try—“

Arms pulled you off her body, wrapping around your abdomen. It was Tommy, questioning you in your ear, but you weren’t listening. “Everything went to shit because of you! Remember that!” Dina and Jesse rushed to her side, but she only sat up watching you get pulled back inside. They glared at your forced retreat—they were always more friends with her than they were with you.

Tommy released you, with a disappointed sigh. Maria walking inside, shutting the door behind her, frowning. You heaved, looking at all the decorations that mocked you. Sparkling and shining against the dim lights in the room. The barely eaten cake sat on the counter in the kitchen making fun of you—it was all too much.

“What the hell has gotten into you, y/n?!” Maria pointedly, asked. Not really wanting a response.

“What’s gotten into me?! What’s gotten into her—!” You pointed to the door as if she replaced it.

The blond man leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter, bending at his hips. “Well, I don’t think it matters what’s gotten into her if you put your hands on her, Bug.” Tommy spoke, evenly. He was always the calmer of the two. “Did you… Did you put your hands on her?”

Maria stood with her hands on her hips. “What did we say about fighting—? And you don’t hit your girlfriend— you don’t hit the people that you care about!” She scolded, pointing her finger. “We raised you better than that…”

Your lips quivered, guilt setting in. “I didn’t mean to hit her! She wanted— she wanted me to… I swear!”

He glanced at his wife. “She wanted you to hit her?” Tommy deadpanned, pressing his lips into a line.

They both looked at you with separate expressions. Maria clearly overwhelmed with disappointment and utter disbelief. The same look she gave you when she caught you smoking cigarettes at the barn when you were fourteen—when you told her you quit. Tommy had an expression of pity, like he often did. That same look he gave when you had a meltdown at school when you first moved in with them.

More tears began to roll down your cheeks. “Maria… Tommy… She pushed me. Why would she do that? Why would she—“ You began to ramble, knees growing weak. Your strict mother-figure rushed to your side, catching you before you fell. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to— she was just being so mean.”

Sinking to the floor with you, her hands caressed your hair. Maria looked to Tommy, mouthing for him to go check on Ellie.

Outside, Ellie was dismissing the weary questions from her friends. She’d never seen you act in such an unruly way. Every time she came over, there wasn’t a hair that was out of place on your head. She was always the one acting out, swearing like a sailor. Sure, she knew about your smoking habit, but that was nothing.

Your girlfriend was envious of how everything was panning out for you—college was around the corner. You had an acceptance letter from your dream school, and without a doubt, you were leaving for the city. Leaving her behind to rot in the country. It wasn’t fair!

That adoption letter felt like pity. She wasn’t a fan of that feeling either.

As a bruise formed on her cheek, guilt settled into the pit of her stomach. Ellie had every intention on seeing the side of you that everyone talked about with a past tense that indicated warning. She needed to prove to herself that you weren’t the perfect person she saw you to be—but all that was left behind was remorse and a sore cheek.

She watched as Joel and Tommy stepped aside to talk. Their eyes glancing back and forth between the door and Ellie, as she leaned against her rusted red truck.

“I can’t believe she would do something like that… On your birthday?” Dina shook her head, with her arms crossed.

“It’s not like her…” Jesse narrowed his eyes at the auburn-haired girl. “What’d you do?”

Dina smacked his chest. “Jessie! She’s literally the victim here— domestic abuse!”

He sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes. “I’m not saying what she did was right.” Jessie began. “I’m saying that I know Ellie Williams, and I know how she is— she’s a pusher.”

The bruised seventeen-year-old scoffed.

“Yeah, I said it.” He stood tall, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You’re a pusher. Hell, you’re a professional pusher— you push people for a fucking living.” Dina glared at him, threatening to hit him again. “I mean, there was that one time… When we went into the city for that comic convention, and you completely obliterated Joel for worrying about you—“

The dark-haired, freckled teenager pushed her boyfriend out of the way taking his place. “We don’t have to relive that…”

Ellie rolled her tongue in her mouth. “Look, I know this is my fault…”

“Ellie… You’re the one with the bruise forming on your face.” She reached up, rubbing her cheek. Her wincing under her touch.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, squeezing her red eyes. “Yeah, and if it weren’t for me— for what I said… I wouldn’t have this fuckin’ bruise.” Ellie peered at where Joel and Tommy were speaking. They were wrapping up, giving brotherly hugs. “I am a pusher… And now my girlfriend hates me.” She pouted, tears welling up in her eyes. The blond Miller waved a hand at her, giving a tight-lipped smile that screamed I’m sorry. “I gotta go…” She pulled her keys from her pocket, getting into her truck.

That was the last full conversation the two of you had. Horrible, but the last. Everything in between then and the present was short and empty. Light conversations that only strangers and acquaintances shared. Letters here and there. It was a dispute that was so nuanced, for the first year after that, Joel barely said a word to you. Which bled into his relationship with Tommy. Maria tried to play middleman, but it didn’t work.

Perhaps, that was the reason you kept your distance. You didn’t want to continue to be the wedge that formed between two brothers. While you loved your parents, they were only a phone-call away. And, in the meantime, you could focus on growing in your career. Focusing on your book writing, instead.

You just wanted to forget about what happened when you were an emotionally undeveloped seventeen-year-old, but every time you seen her face—you remembered. So, avoiding Ellie Williams was a mission within itself.

A mission you were hoping you weren’t going to have to endure this year.

“You know,” Tommy began, sipping his fresh coffee. “Joel’s coming down from Jersey for the week.”

As you looked through the fridge, you snapped your head in his direction. “Is he now…?” You slowly question. Letting the fridge door shut on its own. The blonde woman to his right, sitting at the island counter, chuckled. Flipping through the interior design magazine you brought for her.

“And he’s picking up Ellie from the city.”

“What!” You exclaim, rushing to the opposite side of the counter. Pulling the mug from his lips, a surprised squeak left your throat. “Uh, dad… You forgot to mention on the several phone calls that we had in that last month that Ellie moved to the city.”

Maria perked up, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, she’s been there for about a year now… Brooklyn, is it?” She looked to her husband for clarification. He nodded, peering up at you with a plain expression.

“A year?! And none of you told me?”

“Bug, you did say that you didn’t want us to bring her up anymore unless you asked.” Maria stood to her feet, meandering to the stove and oven. “But that does remind me… They should be here in a few hours. Wanna help with the brownies?” She preheated the oven, walking around you casually.

Your mouth fell open, glancing between the two of them. “Okay, so they get brownies, and I get the worst news of my life…” An apron with your nickname embroidered on the front, Bug, hung in your mother's hand as an offering. “Yes, I’ll help with the brownies— this is very cruel to your very successful daughter.”

Tommy waved his hand, dismissively. “C’mon, that incident happened years ago now. You’re twenty-five, I’m sure she’s gotten over it.”

Tying the string around your neck and back, you pressed your lips into a line. It wasn’t really about her—you weren’t over it. You still harbored the same guilt you felt when you settled in your room that night. A crazy mixture of resentment and remorse all rolled up into one feeling; as you settled in your reading nook, with your hand out the window holding a burning cigarette with your index and middle finger. “I’m sure she has…”

Eventually, you switched the conversation around while baking. Falling into fits of laughter from mentioning past stories of your teenagehood. Teaming up with Maria to make fun of Tommy and his aging—all of a sudden, he was beginning to have a knack for playing a checkers. Only old people enjoyed playing checkers. Then, the waiting began.

To busy yourself, you pulled out your computer and brought it to the porch. Even though, you were taking some time off at your publishing job; when it came to your book writing, you had an agent to keep flooding your inbox with emails. Telling you to do this and do that—it was obnoxious. But you did as she asked anyway.

Typing away, a puff of nicotine fled from your lips. Murmuring under your breath, the words that were populating on the screen. On your hip, your phone rang, causing you to throw your head back in slight agony. Something always interrupted you when you were flowing. Flipping open your phone, the decorative chain swinging around as you placed it against your ear. “Hello,” You spoke, stubbing out your cigarette.

It was your roommate and closest friend, Sierra, complaining about the neighbors. Her strong long island accent echoing through the phone. “Oh, my God— they’re so loud! You’d think gettin’ an apartment in a nicer building would thicken the walls.” She groaned on the other end. “Please, come back. At least to tell them to shut up, and then you could go back upstate.”

“Why don’t you… I don’t know…” You shut your laptop, replacing your butt with the boxy electronic. Strolling to the far end of the porch, leaning your arms against the bannister. “Tell them yourself?” An amused smile spread on your lips.

Sierra paused. “Because that’s your job. I’m the nice one, remember?”

“Okay, well I can’t leave. I just got here, and I’m not spending another grand on taxi fare.”

“I’ll spot you.” You could hear her smile on the end.

“Sierra, I’m not coming back until Saturday. So, your only options are to either bang on their door— telling them to shut the hell up— or you suffer listening to their relentless daytime sex.” As you spoke, a truck began rolling up the driveway. Identities unclear due to the intense window tint, but you knew exactly who it was. However, there were three heads in that truck.

She groaned on the other end of the line. “Ugh! I hate you—“

“You love me!” You grinned, but it dropped right off your face when the people exited the vehicle. From the driver's seat, it was Ellie; then, it was Joel who exited, seemingly in conversation. And, finally, a girl stepped out of the vehicle. Joel noticed you leaning against the bannister on the porch, waving his hand with a smile.

Your muscles reacted, waving a fleeting hand. “Maria, Tommy! They’re here!” You yell loud enough to be heard through the screen door. You were always insecure about calling them by their parental titles in front of people—let alone new people.

“You’re yelling in my ear, hon. If you gotta go just tell me.” Sierra complained.

“I gotta go.”

Before she could say her goodbyes, you shut your phone, sliding it into your back pocket. Your parents came out of the house in high spirits; Maria clapping her hands, excitedly, embracing Ellie. Tommy giving a firm bear hug to Joel, laughing heartily—at what? You were unsure.

Awkwardly, you stood there. Smiling with your hands held in front of your body as if you were presenting a project.

Joel looked to you, approaching you with open arms. “Look at you,” He began, wrapping his arms around you, warmly. “All grown up.” He pulled back to get a better look at you, nodding proudly.

“Yeah…” You tapped his shoulder. “You, too.” A chuckle fell from your lips.

Then, you looked to your right at the freckled girl with her arm around a feminine stranger. However, you couldn’t indentify her before you did Ellie. Her auburn hair was pulled into a low bun, with pieces framing her gentle features. Her round evergreen, tinted with slivers of brown, eyes. Freckles decorating her cheeks, bridge of her nose; the beauty mark under left eye—

“Hey,” Ellie drawled out the greeting, awkwardly. Leaning in for a hug that teetered back and forth until you reciprocated.

You kept that same plastered smile on your lips, wrapping your arm under hers. “Hey, Ellie.” Pulling back, you finally looked at the girl beside her. She had tattoos and piercings and looked so much cooler than you. “Who’s this?”

Her earthy eyes widened. “Oh, this is, uhm, my girlfriend, Cat.”

The only response you could give was a nod and a half-hearted wave. It was like a dramatic record scratch in your head. But your parents took over with the rest. Guiding everyone inside to the warmth. Tommy remained outside, giving you skeptical eyes. “Help me with the bags…”

“Honey, don’t be weird about this.” He spoke, as you followed him to the truck.

“I’m not being weird.” You whined, gravel crunching under your feet. “Seriously, what’s to be weird about?” Reaching into the open trunk, you pulled out luggage’s and duffle bags. This was a lot of stuff for a week stay—they brought more than you did.

He gruffly breathed, pulling up the handle of one of the suitcases. “You’re my daughter, I know you— just sayin’…”

“Oh, my God— please!” You complained, hooking the duffle over your shoulder, pulling one of the luggage’s. Leaving him to follow you toward the porch.

Dinner had come quicker than you had hoped. If anything, if you could magically skip over the thing, and still eat, that would’ve been perfect.

All six of you sat at the dining table, forks and knives scratching at ceramic plates. Tommy and Joel had gathered in the back, last minute to cook up some steaks. And, to busy yourself, you helped Maria with the sides while Ellie and Cat got situated in the guest house.

“So, y/n, how’s the book comin’ along?” Joel wondered, putting a cut piece of steak into his mouth.

You made a surprised sound as you chewed your food, rushing to swallow. “Shit, you’re writing a book?” Ellie questioned, leaning her elbows on the table.

Taking a sip of water, you decided to respond. “Yeah, I’ve been working on it for a while.” Your eyes glanced at her, then moved on, quickly, to Joel’s. “It’s… Coming along.” A bashful laugh fell from your lips, as your hand reached for the glass of wine. It was barely touched, red hue swishing in the bulb of the glass as you took a sip. It’s fruity bitterness relishing over your tongue.

“What is it— like fiction or…?” Ellie pressed, genuinely.

“Non-fiction. A book of essay’s, really— written in different forms.” You nodded. “It sounds boring…”

Ellie shrugged, forking a piece of meat into her mouth. “Doesn’t sound boring to me.” She responded, with her mouth full.

“It’s the farthest from boring, honey.” Maria massaged your shoulder, sharing a small smile. You mirrored her in return, forking at the vegetables on your plate—perfectly steamed broccoli.

“How’s Brooklyn treating you?” You spoke up, raising your eyebrows.

Ellie lightly glared at Joel before answering, placing her utensils down. “It’s certainly treating me…” She muttered, rubbing her hands together, glancing at her girlfriend.

“It’s a great place for art, but just not Ellie’s art.” Cat chuckled, sipping from her wine glass.

“Oh, that’s what you’re doing.” You nod.

“I recall her using the words: too crowded.” Joel used air quotes to briefly describe the past conversation.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “It makes me feel crowded— the city. When you say it like that, it makes me sound fucking stupid, Joel.”

“You did say crowded.”

“Well, I meant overwhelmed.”

You snickered at their bickering, leaning back in your chair. “Back to your art, I guess you’re experiencing the artistic equivalent to writers block?” Tommy inquired, still chewing on his steak, raising an eyebrow. The auburn-haired young woman nodded, chuckling to herself. “That’s why you’re stayin’ with us for a little while, huh?”

Another record scratch.

You blinked at you father, deepening your eyebrows. “Wait, what?”

Joel had set his beer on the table, leaning forward. “Yeah, Ellie’s stayin’ with your parents for a little while to get her juices flowing, again.” He explained, pressing his lips into a soft smile. Ellie cringed at his use of the words juices, taking a sip of her beer.

Tommy and Maria told you nothing unless you asked for it for almost everything now—you at least deserved to know that Ellie was staying on the farm indefinitely. After all, when they’re dead and gone, it’ll be yours; so, they could’ve at least told you without you having to ask—that’s big!

“And, I’ll help out so I won’t be sleeping the day away— because I know that I will without a proper schedule.”

“I thought you guys didn’t need a farmhand.” You glanced at your parents, with your eyebrows still deepened with confusion.

Maria chuckled, standing to her feet. “We don’t need anything, but who could say no to a helping hand?” She grabs the empty basket of biscuits from the center of the table. “Anybody want more biscuits?”

“I would love some!” Cat spoke up, holding up a tattooed finger.

“Me too, honey.” Tommy also spoke.

A dry chortle left your lips, leaning against the back of the chair. “Are you staying on the farm, too?” You peered over at the stranger—the girlfriend, with a slight accusatory tone.

Her lips parted a few times before she responded. “Oh, no, I’m going back to Brooklyn. Not much of a country girl.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded, downing the rest of your wine. This week was going to be a doozy. When Maria came back to the table, you snatched a biscuit from the basket, biting into it. There was a perfect crispy layer on the outside, mixed with the perfect gooey, soft innards of the biscuit. “These are so good.” You muttered with your mouth full with its buttery goodness.

On your hip, your phone buzzed. Cursing under your breath, you plucked the cellphone from your belt, flicking it open. It was your agent calling you at eight o’clock at night. “Excuse me, I gotta take this.” You scooted the chair back, pressing the green button. “It’s late, Isa.” You started the call, stalking out of the room like the corporate woman you are. Taking the route up the stairs to your old bedroom.

“I need that new chapter by tomorrow morning— as in, 8am.” She scolded on the other line. “I’m personally reminding you. Since you couldn’t respond to my emails.”

You sighed, shutting your bedroom door behind you. “Isa, I’ve been traveling all day on public transport, and I’ve been trying to have family time— is that not what Thanksgiving is about?”

“You’re writer, hon. You have little bit of family time, then you hermit to finish your work— now, stop giving me grief. Time is of the essence.” Her smooth voice told, chuckling after her words. “I’ll be anticipating you’re new chapter tomorrow at eight! Have a great night.”

“Have a great night…”

Slapping your phone shut, you sighed, running your other hand over your face. Being a writer was relentless—just as relentless as you and your roommate’s neighbors. But, instead of lingering in frustration, you grabbed your heavy laptop and propped yourself on the cushion beside your window—your reading nook. Not forgetting to put a Sade tape inside of your stereo for some background music, before you began to diligently work.

You typed at your computer, rapid clicking sounds filling your ears. Although, it was no surprise that you worked your hardest after the sun set—it was like you had one too many espresso shots.

Every word was coming from the heart, and coincidentally enough, the guests at your home made it easier. This chapter was definitely reflecting the feelings you felt the day of Ellie’s seventeenth birthday. You used imagery and metaphors to describe that feeling of attack—being backed into a corner, having the worst part of yourself brought into the light. And, like most of your pieces, it was dredging it all back up again; the emotions.

That feeling of losing the only person that truly understood you.

Of course, you had a few relationships since then—a few, trying to chase that same feeling you felt when your hands touched. But there wasn’t anyone who could compare to her. How pathetic was it to still be harping on a highschool sweetheart?

Hours passed under the radar. Your parents being the mile marker in your work, knocking on the door to let you know everyone was heading to bed. Too busy with outlining new ideas, you barely spared them a glance, muttering a smooth goodnight.

It was about one in the morning by the time you finished the chapter. Still, it needed some tweaking, but it was good enough to send to your agent for the editor to look at.

Shutting your laptop, you finally took in your old bedroom. Various music artists slapped against your soft pink walls, attached with tape—some corners hanging off. Catwoman figurines lining the back of your large, white, wooden dresser; with comics stacked alongside them. Stacks of old books in the corner of your room, stacked from the floor to the middle of her wall. If you were to stumble into them, they’d experience one hell of a fall.

Suddenly, curiosity struck.

Hopping from the cushioned seat under your paneled window, you looked under your bed. Reaching for an old shoebox that was filled with many, many interesting things. You slid it from under the dusty bed frame, taking it back to that plushy seat you appreciated so dearly. Plucking the top off, you released a sigh. Immediately being hit with polaroids of yourself as a teenager—mostly standing beside, laughing with, and cuddling Ellie.

They were the photos you snatched from your wall after that fight. Oh, she looked the same. Still had that uncertainty in her earthy, olive eyes. You didn’t understand it then, and you most definitely didn’t understand it now. Ellie didn’t have to feel the uncertainty she was used to in foster care. She had people who believed in her—who will always believe in her.

Sifting through, your hands hovered over a letter she wrote. It was an apology letter sent around the time of her eighteenth birthday—almost a full year since the situation. The envelope was ripped open from the day you received it; stained with salty, heartbroken tears.

If only that day never happened…

A startling knock sounded at your window. It was no more than a pebble, which was confirmed when another launched within your sights. Scrunching up your eyebrows, you unlocked it, pulling it upwards. Once you peaked your head outside into the brisk, cool weather, a small smile spread onto your lips.

“Workin’ hard or hardly workin’ up there?” Ellie called from below. “I brought a little somethin’… Thought you could use a break from writing.” She waved a tightly rolled joint in her hands—which could only be seen if you squinted.

The corners of your lips spread wider, feeling horribly nostalgic. “You’re actually a little too late on that front. I finished a few minutes ago,” You pressed your lips into a line, continuing. “But I could never turn down smoke break. I’ll be down in a second.”

Dropping the letter, you scooted off the seat to grab your jacket. Stuffing your feet into the semi-stained Uggs you wore into the ground, before fleeing your bedroom. You didn’t feel the need to sneak down the stairs, but a part of you wanted to—to relieve that feeling of adrenaline you felt in your youth.

Ellie met you at the back door, holding open the creaking screen door as you exited. “I honestly wasn’t sure you still did this.” She chuckled, looking at the ground as you both began to walk away from the house. Putting some distance so the smell wouldn’t upset the elders in the home.

“What? Smoke weed?” You perked an eyebrow. “You think because I went all corporate, I stopped being down?”

“Actually… Yeah.” She responded, nervously snickering.

The two ofyou settled in front of this white-lined shed that was illuminated by the two warm, orange-toned lights on either side of the door. “Well, you’re kind of right…” You admitted, squinting your eyes, embarrassed. It’s hard being known for your adaptability. “I try to keep the pot smoking to a minimum. In the corporate world they test you for it.”

Ellie pulled the joint from behind her ear, placing it between her lips. She shook her head in response to your words. “Says the cigarette smoker…” She joked, eyeing you, teasingly. While she flicked her lighter to burn the tip.

“Hey, they don’t give a rats ass about nicotine— I need to make up for that loss somehow. I’m a writer for christ’s sake.”

When she finally gets it to catch the fire, she took two puffs before passing it to you between her index and thumb. “Where’s Cat?” You innocently questioned, taking a hit of the joint, then looking at it, before taking another hit.

Ellie became rigid, releasing an exasperated sigh from her lips. “The guesthouse, watchin’ some movie.”

You handed her the joint. “What, is she not down?” Mocking your previous words, with amused eyes. However, her demeanor had quickly shifted.

“She gets easily frustrated after traveling all day…” She shook her head in a dismissive way, like she didn’t want any further questions to asked.

“Hm… That’s relatable.”

Silence engulfed the both of you as you passed the blunt back and forth until it was nothing more than a roach. Hearing nothing but the distant wind chimes sounding off on the porch.

Before speaking, Ellie took a deep breath, glancing over at you as if she were nervous to make eye contact. “I hope me stayin’ here for a little bit doesn’t bother you too much.”

Her words were double-take worthy, you looked over at her with expressive eyes—widening, in surprise. “Bother me? Why would it bother me?” You leaned your shoulder on the shed, kicking one leg over the other.

“You didn’t seem like the biggest fan—“

“Ellie, I was surprised. That’s all.” You waved your hand, shaking your head. “I feel like they don’t tell me shit anymore…” Shoulders shrugging, you glance toward the house standing tall in all its glory. “They didn’t tell me about you moving to Brooklyn, either. What does it look like when someone you’ve known your whole life moves to a city you’re actually familiar with and they’re not, and you don’t reach out to help them? I’m only a forty minute train ride away.” You rambled, deepening your eyebrows. “They basically made me look like an asshole.”

You weren’t entirely sure how you’d react if you knew about Ellie’s moving to the big city. Knowing your habits, you’d probably sit by the phone for hours before making the move to give her a call. But, it’s not like you were given the opportunity to figure it out for yourself. Now, it just appeared that you forgot about her—or could care less about her endeavors; which is farthest from the truth.

Her full lips cracked into a smile, chuckling. The auburn-haired woman, mirrored your position, leaning her shoulder against the wooden shed. “Always worried about what you look like…” She muttered, sucking her teeth. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re an asshole— you just didn’t know.” Ellie shrugged. “It’s not like we talk as much as we used to…”

As much as we used to. That kind of stung.

Your eyes averted to the gravel under your boots. “Yeah…” There was an awkward beat that took its place between you. Swallowing, you shooed it away with speaking up. “What about your art? You’re living in one of the most creative cities in the world, and you can’t create?”

She puffed air from her lips, glancing in the direction of the guesthouse, priming her lips. “Okay… Confession— but only if what’s said here stays here.”

“What’s said at the shed, stays at the shed.” You affirm, holding a hand and crossing to fingers. The high from what you smoked clouding your mind, squinting your eyes and loosening your inhibitions.

“Cat and I moved in together pretty early— too early… I needed a roommate and she was the perfect option.” Ellie began, carefully. Olive eyes shifting under the dim light in thought. “I swear ever since I moved in with her… The inspiration to make anything new is fucking gone.” She ran her hand over her hair, which was actually loose without a hair tie. Dusting over her shoulders, pieces pushed behind her ears. “She, you know, hovers a lot— in a sweet way, it’s just irritating because not even her pushing me can be inspiring.”

Your heart skipped a beat; it was hopeful—you really are an asshole! “Damn… So, it’s not the city that makes you feel crowded. It’s Cat.” You hum, nodding your head, taking in your assumption. “And… You think staying here will help? Doing boring farm work?” A chuckle falls from your lips, borderline nervous, borderline humored.

She pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows. “I mean, I spent a lot of time here growin’ up…” Ellie looked at you, knowingly. “It was never boring when we did it together.”

“That’s because we were doing it together. I’m not gonna be here while you’re shoveling horse shit.” You chortled, peering at her through hazy eyes. She giggled and it sounded like music to your ears. It’s been awhile since you heard her laugh from something you said. Weed always did have a way of bringing people together.

“Well, maybe before you go, you could help me out. Jog my memory.” Ellie offered, raising her eyebrows. “It’s either you or suffering through Tommy’s jokes for hours—“

“I don’t mind, but we might have to jog each others memory.”

“Hey, you can take the girl out the country, but not the country out the girl.” She shrugged. “I have faith in you.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, a smile spread on your lips. “You’re still so corny.” Shaking your head, a laugh slips. Wrapping your arms around your body, you acknowledge the cool weather. It pricked at your exposed skin, and even through your jacket. “It’s getting late…”

She scratched the back of her neck. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I appreciate the joint— I needed it.” You pushed off the shed wall, licking your lips. In preparation to meander back toward the house, you rocked on your feet. “There’s some left over biscuits on the counter…” You drawled, but it was all right because Ellie had filled in for you.

“I’m fucking starving.”

Then, the two of you walked shoulder to shoulder back inside. Giggling at stupid jokes, surfing over any of the past debacles you had. Turns out reconvening with your childhood lover wasn’t so bad after all. For now, anyway.

[mrspiastri]

✩ first and last 🦢

pairing: lando norris x reader

cw: fluff, first time relationships

wc: 3.6k words

an: thank you to @castofstrangerthings for the req! i couldn’t directly respond to it for some reason so here! also i know you asked for oscar but this just felt so apt for lando i had to!! :p

For Y/N, dating wasn’t really something at the forefront of her mind. After hearing horror stories of all the crazy boyfriends her friends had to endure since middle school, she was more than content remaining celibate.

This continued throughout her schooling days, where she never bothered to start dating. And it was a big help to her cause that no boys ever made a move on her.

It wasn’t that she was unattractive, nor was it her personality. She was well-known throughout her school, and the teachers liked her too. She had a few male friends as well, and while they enjoyed hanging out, she was never asked out by even one of them.

So, she was the butt of her friends' lighthearted jokes about how she was the only one graduating high school without ever having a boyfriend, kissing someone, or even being romantically interested in a man. Hell, she hadn’t even been on a date before!

Y/N much preferred it this way—'more men, more problems' was her belief in life. However, this changed when she went to university.

She and Lando Norris met on the same day of orientation, both eager to join their uni’s debate team. After being seated next to each other for almost an hour during auditions, they were called in to debate each other on the topic of whether the ‘male loneliness epidemic’ was real. Much to her chagrin, Y/N had to argue for the motion.

That very debate was the foundation of their friendship, and now, in junior year, the pair remained closer than ever.

🪻🪻🪻

Being raised in a family with a wonderful mother and two sisters really sets a man up for success in the dating world. Lando was always in demand, his alluring and charming personality combined with his ravishing good looks and mild-mannered ways leading to girls constantly trying their luck with him.

At every party, every ten or so minutes, he was either being snogged by a pretty blonde or comparing hand sizes with a striking brunette.

He always admired Y/N’s commitment to being single, knowing her feelings towards the dating scene in today’s world. And somewhere along the line, his admiration for her changed to awe, and from awe, it evolved into emotions he never thought he’d ever feel for her.

After spending the better half of the past two years stuck by her side, with the third one beginning a few weeks ago, he found himself falling headfirst for Y/N and all her quirks and dynamics.

He had found it very difficult to admit it to himself that he fancied her, but on a random Tuesday morning, as she was wallowing over the waffles running out at breakfast, it hit him like a lightning bolt:

He had the biggest, fattest, most irrepressible crush on his best friend.

He had seen her for the first time when they were just freshly turned 18-year-olds, sniggering over the terrible chairs they had to sit on while waiting their turn for auditions. He was there when she was upset over not being able to sign up for a class she was desperate to take in her first semester.

He giggled while she almost keeled over after taking her first-ever shot of tequila at a sorority party at Kappa Alpha Theta, and he was the one who held her hair up while she threw up into a toilet bowl, rubbing her back soothingly as she moaned over how she would never touch alcohol again.

So how was someone supposed to continue being best friends with the girl he was falling for faster than a meteor hurling through space?

To him, the answer was simple: dropping simple but subtle hints to make his intentions known.

🪻🪻🪻

The hints had started small, but now they were practically glaring neon signs. At least, to everyone except Y/N.

Lando had tried everything to make his feelings clear. He was always touching her, always standing closer than necessary, always finding ways to bring her into his space. He carried her books when she complained they were too heavy, sent her good morning texts every single day, and even learned the complicated coffee order she had been too embarrassed to repeat for him.

But nothing seemed to get through to her. And what made it worse was that everyone around them began noticing the change.

“Okay, but seriously,” her roommate drawled one afternoon as they sat in the campus café. “Are you guys, like, together-together?”

Y/N snorted, picking at her croissant. “What? No.”

Her roommate raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “So you’re telling me your best friend, who, by the way, has turned down every single girl who’s tried to ask him out in the last six months, just happens to buy you coffee every morning, keeps your favorite hoodie in his car in case you get cold, and practically looks like he’s in love every time he stares at you for more than five seconds?”

Lando, sitting beside Y/N, didn’t even pretend to be embarrassed. He just leaned back in his chair, an amused smirk tugging at his lips as he watched her flounder for an answer.

“He’s just—” Y/N shook her head, laughing lightly. “That’s just how he is. Lando’s nice to everyone.”

Her friend scoffed. “Yeah, but he’s not doing any of that for me. Or anyone else.”

Lando chuckled, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. The gesture was so natural, so casual, that she barely even registered it, except for the way her heart suddenly felt like it was trying to break a world record for fastest beats per minute.

“I mean, I could start buying you coffee every morning,” he mused, tilting his head at the girl in front of them. “But I think Y/N might get jealous.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing. “Oh, please.”

But internally? She was spiralling.

Because the idea of Lando doing these things for someone else, buying their favorite drinks, remembering their order, keeping a hoodie for them, made her stomach twist in a way she didn’t want to analyze too closely.

And it wasn’t just her roommate who had questioned them, either. At a party the previous weekend, they had been standing by the drinks table when a guy in their Stats class had wandered over, glancing between them with an appraising look.

“You two are dating, right?” he asked, casually pouring himself a drink.

Y/N choked on her own sip of beer. “What? No.”

He blinked. “Huh. Could’ve fooled me.”

She laughed it off, brushing the idea away as she always did, but Lando, who had been leaning against the table beside her, hand warm on the small of her back, had simply raised an eyebrow, amused.

🪻🪻🪻

Over the course of midterms week, Y/N was seconds away from throwing her laptop out the nearest window and dramatically declaring herself an academic failure.

She had spent hours buried in notes, highlighting until her fingers cramped, and yet nothing was sticking. Her brain was mush. Her body was tense. Her stress levels were at an all-time high.

Meanwhile. Lando, sitting across from her in their usual library spot, looked annoyingly unbothered.

“How are you so calm?” she groaned, dropping her head onto her open textbook.

Lando smirked, stretching his arms behind his head like he wasn’t on the verge of multiple deadlines. “Because one of us needs to be. And let’s be honest, it was never gonna be you.”

She shot him a glare that had absolutely no bite to it. “You’re supposed to be suffering with me.

“I am,” he said, eyes twinkling with amusement. “I just look better doing it.”

She huffed dramatically, rubbing her temples. “I’m so close to losing my mind.”

That was apparently enough for Lando to intervene. Without a word, he stood up and walked over to her side of the table, nudging her chair back slightly before physically turning it so she was facing him. Before she could protest, he crouched down in front of her, settling his hands on her knees.

Y/N stopped breathing.

“Peach,” he murmured, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over her bare skin. “You need a break.”

Her brain stuttered at the nickname, and she knew exactly what he was referencing. It began in the winter break of freshman year, after a visit to Y/N’s house.

Her mom had been all too eager to embarrass her, flipping through old photo albums until she landed on the picture, one of baby Y/N, no older than two, sitting in a tiny plastic chair in her backyard, absolutely covered in peach juice.

There were peach slices in her chubby fists, sticky residue all over her cheeks, and a look of pure, unfiltered joy on her face as she devoured the fruit like it was the best thing in the world.

Lando had lost it.

“No way,” he had laughed, taking a picture of the photo for future blackmail. “You were a menace.”

“I was a child,” Y/N had huffed, cheeks burning as she tried (and failed) to snatch the album from him.

Her mom had only made it worse, recounting how Y/N had been obsessed with peaches, demanding them at every meal and managing to make a colossal mess every single time.

And that is where ‘Peach’ originated from.

She barely managed to remember that moment, when she felt Lando’s warm hands trailing up and down her thighs, fingers grazing the hem of her shorts.

“I can’t take a break,” she whispered, voice embarrassingly shaky.

“You can,” he said, firm but soft, his grip tightening slightly. “And you will. Because if you stress yourself into a breakdown, who’s gonna remind me when all my assignments are due?”

Y/N would have laughed, if she wasn’t mentally losing it at the way his hands lingered on her thighs, his touch burning and grounding.

“Five minutes,” he coaxed, voice a low hum. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

She swore she blacked out for a moment.

Because what the FUCK?

When did he get so touchy? And why did he have to sound like that? Like he was saying something completely normal but making it sound criminally intimate?

“I…” She swallowed hard, eyes darting anywhere but his face. “I don’t know how to turn my brain off.”

Lando sighed, standing back up—but instead of moving away, he settled behind her chair, placing his hands on her shoulders and squeezing gently.

“Then let me do it for you.” And holy shit.

The moment his hands started kneading into her muscles, Y/N melted.

His thumbs dug into the tense spots at the base of her neck, slow and deliberate, like he was unraveling her stress with his hands alone. His fingers pressed into the tight knots in her shoulders, rubbing small, soothing circles that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Fuck,” she muttered, eyes fluttering shut before she could stop herself.

Lando chuckled behind her. “That good, huh?”

She wanted to be embarrassed, but she was too far gone to care. His touch was ridiculously good, and for the first time all week, she felt her body relax.

“That’s it,” he murmured, voice low as he leaned down slightly, his breath warm against the side of her face. “Just breathe, sweetheart.”

She absolutely did not breathe.

Instead, she sat there, skin burning, heart racing, mind spiraling at the fact that her best friend was currently massaging her like it was the most normal thing in the world.

And then, because Lando loved making her suffer, he let his fingers slide up, brushing lightly against the sensitive skin of her neck before tracing back down her shoulders.

Y/N jumped.

Lando laughed, his voice right in her ear. “Ticklish?”

“N-no,” she lied, gripping the edges of her chair so tight her knuckles turned white.

“Mm,” he hummed, clearly amused. He gave her shoulders one last squeeze before finally stepping back. “Feel better?”

No. Absolutely not. She felt like she needed to go outside and scream into the void.

But she nodded anyway, avoiding his gaze like her life depended on it.

“Good.” Lando ruffled her hair, grinning. “Now let’s get back to work before you have a full-on breakdown.”

Y/N didn’t have a breakdown over midterms. But she did have one over the realization that she was so fucking screwed.

After hell week, she locked herself in her dorm room, trying to make sense of the past few weeks. For almost 3 months, Lando had been inciting the most out of the blue emotions in Y/N.

He had changed. But it didn’t mean anything.

He had always been tactile, affectionate. He had always been protective, always made her feel like she mattered. It was just who he was.

The problem was, she had started to want it. To crave the warmth of his palm on her thigh when he absentmindedly reached for her during study sessions. To hear the way he murmured "Night, Peach," like it was something soft and fragile and theirs.

And she hated herself for it. Because Lando didn’t like her. Because if he did, if any of this meant something to him, surely he would have said something by now.

Right?

So she did what she had always done.

She laughed when their friends teased them about how they acted like a couple. She rolled her eyes when people assumed they were together. She ignored the way her heart ached every time he pulled away, convinced herself she was imagining the way he looked at her sometimes, like he saw through everything.

Because no matter how much she was falling for him, Lando wasn’t falling for her.

And she just had to live with it.

🪻🪻🪻

From the very first time she visited his home in Bristol, Lando’s parents had welcomed her like she was one of their own. His sisters had immediately pulled her into their group, and his mum and dad never let her leave without offering her enough food to last a month.

So when his parents insisted she come home with him for the semester break, she hadn’t even thought to say no.

Now, sitting in his childhood bedroom, cross-legged on his bed as she flipped through an old photo album his dad had pulled out, she was glad she had agreed.

The photos were a goldmine, including one showing a 6 year old Lando, gap-toothed and grinning, covered in dirt from head to toe after what was probably an ill-advised adventure outside.

“You were so tiny,” she teased, laughing as she held up a picture of him pouting dramatically in a blazer and a pair of trousers that were slightly too big on him.

Lando, who had been sitting beside her, propped up on his elbow, rolled his eyes. “Not anymore I’m not,” he winked at her.

She huffed out a laugh, turning back to the photo. But his gaze lingered on her a beat longer than usual.

Y/N felt it, felt the weight of it, the same way she always did when he looked at her like that. Like she was something worth looking at.

The air between them had been charged for weeks now, the space they usually occupied so comfortably together feeling too small, like something unspoken was pressing against the edges.

She ignored it. She always ignored it.

Because no matter how much she overthought his touches, his lingering stares, the way he felt different lately, she couldn’t let herself believe it meant anything.

But Lando?

He had just about had enough.

He had tried subtlety. He had tried patience. But it had become painfully clear that Y/N, his oblivious best friend, was never going to realize what was right in front of her. So he decided, right then and there, that he was done waiting.

He sat up, closing the photo album in her lap and ignoring the small noise of protest she made. She blinked up at him in confusion, and God, how had he gone so long without kissing her?

“I can’t do this anymore.” His voice was quiet, firm.

Y/N frowned. “Do what?”

Lando inhaled sharply. “This. The hints, the waiting, hoping you’ll get it, I can’t anymore.”

She stared at him, brows furrowing in confusion, and it made him want to scream.

He reached out, cupping her jaw with one hand, his thumb brushing against her cheek in the softest way possible.

Y/N froze.

“I like you,” he said, the words steady and clear. “I like you in a way that isn’t just friendly, in a way that makes me want to pull you close every time I see you.”

“I like you in a way that makes it physically impossible for me to look at you and not think about how badly I want to be yours.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her pulse roaring in her ears. “You’re joking,” she said weakly.

Lando let out a soft, frustrated laugh, shaking his head. “No, Peach. I’m not joking. I’m telling you, finally telling you, that I’ve wanted you for so long, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t.”

Her brain stalled.

Every moment she had overthought suddenly flashed through her mind, the lingering touches, the way he always called her Peach like it was something sacred, the way he had never once left her side, had never once let her doubt that he would be there.

And now, here he was, saying the thing she had never let herself believe. Her silence stretched between them, and for the first time in a long time, Lando looked uncertain.

His hand, still resting against her jaw, twitched slightly, like he was afraid she was going to pull away.

“Say something,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“I—” She swallowed hard, trying to piece together a coherent thought. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything.”

And before she could overthink it, before she could let herself spiral into a million reasons why this couldn’t be real, Lando leaned in and kissed her.

It was soft at first, a question rather than a demand. His lips brushed against hers hesitantly, like he was giving her a chance to pull away.

She didn’t.

Instead, she melted, her hands finding his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric like it was the only thing grounding her.

That was all Lando needed.

His other hand found her waist, tugging her closer until there was no space left between them. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to make up for the moments they had wasted.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N’s heart was hammering, her head spinning. Lando rested his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her lips.

“Please tell me you know what to say,” he murmured, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, I think I have an idea.”

“Good.” Lando grinned, pressing another soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Took you long enough.”

🪻🪻🪻

It had been almost a year since that night at his family home in Bristol, since he had finally given up on the hints and just told her. Since he had kissed her like he had been waiting his whole life to do it. Since she had stopped pretending she wasn’t completely, irreversibly his.

Now, they were curled up on his bed in his off-campus apartment, the soft glow of morning slipping through the blinds. Lando was still half-asleep, his face buried in the crook of her neck, arms wrapped around her like he had no intention of letting go.

“You’re staring,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.

Y/N smiled, running her fingers through his curls. “Am not.”

Lando huffed out a laugh, pulling her impossibly closer. “Liar.”

“Lando.”

He hummed, still fixated on her in his arms. “Yeah, Peach?”

She smiled. The nickname had never gone away.

She stretched out on the bed, letting her cheek rest against the pillow as she watched him. “Did you know you’re my first in everything?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Everything?”

“Everything,” she confirmed, biting her lip. “First kiss, first boyfriend, first person I’ve ever said ‘I love you’ to…” She paused, eyes twinkling. “And, you know. First in other ways.”

Lando smirked. “I’m very aware, sweetheart.”

Her face burned, but she refused to look away. “You’re my first everything. It’s kind of unfair, don’t you think?”

His fingers reached out to her, brushing them over her flushed cheek. “You’re my first real everything too, you know,” he murmured, voice softer now.

She blinked up at him. “Really?”

Lando nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “First girl I’ve ever been completely gone for.”

A kiss on her cheek. “First person I’ve ever loved.”

Another kiss, this time to her nose. “First person I never want to lose.”

Y/N’s heart swelled. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to her. He laughed, letting her hold him close as he buried his face in her neck, his arms slipping around her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I love you,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his curls.

Lando tightened his hold on her, his lips brushing against her collarbone as he murmured, “I love you more, Peach.”

And she believed it, because if there was one thing she knew for certain, it was that Lando Norris was her first in everything.

And if she was lucky, he’d also be her last.

i’m going to be so honest i started writing this at like 11 something pm and finished by around 2 am. and i only proof read like maybe the first few scenes and then i gave up bc i genuinely feel so sleepy rn, but yes here you go my geeks ^_^

[sweetbans29]

Brother's Best Friend - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Caitlin falls for her older brothers best friend

Warnings: Caitlin Clark lol, slowest of burns

Word Count: 6.1k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I have had this in the back of my mind for a long while and it has been in my drafts even longer lol. So here we go!

"B! Come on, we are going to be late!" You yell from the bottom of the stairs. "Your parents are going to kill us if we miss this."

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" Blake says as he runs down the stairs. You hold out his jacket and the two of you run out the door and make your way to Carver-Hawkeye arena.

The two of you make your way through the arena and find her parents and Colin in the stands. Hugs are given all around and you take your seat in between the two brothers.

"When do you think she is going to do it?" Colin asks as he nervously rubs his hands on his pants.

"First quarter, all she is thinking about is winning," you say as you find her warming up. You see her and immediately know she is about to be a terror on the court.

You have known Caitlin since she was 5. You and Blake had become best friends in second grade and have been practically inseparable ever since. Brent and Anne absolutely adore you and Collin looks up to you and loves having you around. Oftentimes, Colin was the one who held you at the door when you were on your way out to talk about anything and everything which you later learned was his desire to be seen and how that wasn't always the easiest as the youngest.

Caitlin was just happy to have another girl around and you enjoyed being around her. You got to watch her grow up and see how amazing she truly is, both on and off the court. One of your favorite things about her is she would always ask if you would go to her games. You never missed a single one. She would find you after every single one and make sure you saw her favorite part of the game.

This game is no different, since you have graduated college it has been much easier to travel to see Cait play. Blake would join most of the time since both of you had pretty flexible schedules but even when he couldn't you would still be there for your favorite WBB player.

It is early February of your senior year, Caitlin's sophomore year. The Hawkeyes are set to play Michigan in Michigan on a Sunday afternoon. You get a text from the girl two days prior asking if you can make it and you just send her a picture of the 8 hour drive it would be if you were to go.

"Cait just asked if we could go to her Michigan game on Sunday," you tell Blake as the two of you are studying.

"That's like 8 hours away," Blake laughs and looks at his calendar.

"We've driven further," you say.

"I can't go - I will be at a conference this weekend," Blake says.

You sigh. You have never missed a game and didn't want to start now but an 8 hour drive alone would be rough.

"She'll understand if you can't," Blake says, knowing you are wrestling with the decision.

"I know she will, but I've never missed when she has asked," you say. Ever since she has started asking, which has been since you became Blake's best friend, you were there for her. She would ask you before every game all the way up to your senior year of high school. She knew that you would be busier and would have other priorities and stopped asking all together. You approached her about it and asked why she stopped asking to which she stubbornly avoided answering. After going back and forth, you finally got her to break and she confessed how of course she wants you there but knows you would be a college student now and wouldn't have as much time. You took her in your arms and held her, promising that if she asked, you would do everything in your power to be there.

You call her to tell her it isn't looking promising, especially since Blake couldn't go. She says she understands but you can tell by her voice she is bummed.

It's Cait's game day and you wake up at the ass-crack of dawn and decide to head to the game. You know you'll regret it the next week but you have a feeling that you should be there. You shoot Caitlin a 'good luck' text and begin the drive. You get to the arena right before tip-off. You make your way to your seat which just happens to be behind the Iowa bench.

The game starts and the whole time, it is a battle. Caitlin is single handedly carrying the team but it isn't enough. Even with Cait going 46-4-10 with 3 steals Iowa takes the loss to Michigan. You try to go to the lockers but security doesn't let you through.

You end up texting one of the coaches to see where the team is staying and decide that might be better. Once you get the address, you head there and wait for the team to arrive.

Kate texts you telling you what room they are in and that she will be in Gabby's room. She finishes the text with 'good luck'.

You get to the door and knock lightly. You hear shuffling but Cait doesn't open the door.

You knock again.

"Go away," you hear.

You knock again and keep knocking.

"I told you to go the fuck away-" Caitlin says as she swings the door open and stops mid sentence when she sees you.

"You still want me to go, what was it..." you think for a second, "oh - the fuck away?"

Caitlin immediately moves towards you and you take her in your arms. She nuzzles her head into the crook of your neck, like she always does and you hold her. You hold her, refusing to be the first one to let go. Eventually you guide them to her bed where you plop down and open your arms to her. She falls into them.

"You going to tell me your favorite part?" You ask her softly and you feel her shake her head no.

"Can I tell you my favorite part?" You ask and she doesn't move.

"My favorite part was when you got the second steal - you got the block on their big and came down and grabbed the steal leading to a transition 3," you say.

"It wasn't enough," she says, speaking for the first time. "I wasn't enough."

You shake your head no as if she can see.

"No Cait, you are always enough," you say as you kiss the top of her head.

Caitlin ends up falling asleep in your arms. You are quite tired yourself and are about to doze off when Kate gets back.

"Hey, I can go," you say as you begin to remove Caitlin from your person only to have her grip on you tighten.

"No, no, no," Kate says in a whisper. "Stay, she needs you to stay."

You nod and thank her. Kate gets ready for bed and turns the light off.

"Thank you for coming," Kate whispers with a yawn. "It means more to Caitlin than you know."

You let out a little hum, too tired to ask her what she means by that.

"Here we go," Blake says as the teams position themselves for tip-off.

The whole family watches intently and right out the gate Cait scores the first points for Iowa. The cheers are crazy as everyone counts down the points until CC breaks Kelsey Plum's WBB record. The next time up the floor Cait drains a 3 and Colin turns to you.

"You were right," Colin says as if you were ever wrong when it came to Cait's game. You give him a smile as Gabby grabs the defensive rebound and passes Cait the ball to bring it up the court.

"This is it," you say mostly to yourself but Blake and Colin nod.

You all watch as Caitlin gets to her usual spot and puts up a logo 3.

You hold your breath, not that you need to because you know it is going in the second it leaves her hands. It all happens in slow motion - the ball flies through the air and makes its way to a perfect swoosh.

The cheers blow the roof off the arena as Caitlin does her classic yell to the crowd. A time-out is called shortly after and you watch as everyone from the Hawkeye's bench goes to celebrate with CC.

You stand there smiling down at her, mirroring her family as you all just stand in awe of the 22 year old girl.

You know Cait doesn't care about the records - she is a lover of the game. But you know that her need to be the best has propelled her into a league of her own and that breaking this record in this particular game, against this particular team holds more weight than it would against any other. The fact that you are standing there watching Caitlin dominate the first quarter against Michigan is her taking back that loss from sophomore year. Eveny time she has played Michigan after that loss has been a statement.

The rest of the game is just as exciting as the first quarter. Caitlin puts up 49-1-13, finishing the statement with the win over Michigan.

Once the game is over, Colin is the first one of the family on the floor. You and Blake follow.

Colin goes over and practically tackles Caitlin in a bear hug.

You wait patiently as her parents and grandparents all congratulate her. She greets Blake with a hug and you know you are next. You are smiling at Blake and Cait embracing.

Caitlin's eyes land on you and her smile is wider than it was when she hit THE shot. She comes barreling into your arms, face straight into your neck as you laugh at the tickle of her breath on your skin. For being a few inches shorter than the basketball star, she always opted to be go under when hugging.

"I'm so proud of you," you whisper to her, knowing your time with her is going to be short in this moment.

You feel Caitlin's eyelashes flutter and she takes a deep inhale. You expect her to let you go but she squeezes you tighter. Your smile widens.

After another moment passes, you pinch her side.

"Go celebrate with your team, they are going to think I am hogging you," you say as she buckles and moves her torso away from you.

"Okay, okay," Cait says as she releases you, not wanting to be a victim to one of you tickling attacks. You look in her eyes and for a split second you see what you think is disappointment but it is quickly hidden.

Your head tilts a little as you examine her, giving her the silent 'what was that?' look.

Colin swings his arm around Caitlin's shoulder and points to you.

"She called it," he says and Cait smiles. "Knew you would break it in the first quarter, even down to the first 2 minutes."

You shrug.

"I know our girl," you say with a smile and a shrug.

You don’t notice but Colin does. He feels the way Cait’s breath hitches ever so slightly and her body relaxes. He is one of two people that knows that you calling Caitlin ‘our girl’ causes her heart to flutter and squeeze at the desire to be called ‘your girl’.

That’s been her one unspoken desire - YOU have been her one unspoken desire since the 7th grade. One she swears she will take to her grave but has gotten harder by the day. Colin only knows because over the years he has also developed a little crush on you - just not nearly as deep as his sister.

Caitlin’s feelings have been swallowed for so long and she has hid them so deep that it has become a second nature. In the eyes of everyone, you had been welcomed into the family and were considered the Clark’s fourth child. To everyone, you would be marrying Blake someday. You had become so integrated into their family that many would refer to Cait and you as sisters which caused her blood to boil.

“Ya, sometimes better than we know her,” Blake jokes and you all laugh.

“Hey, that’s not my fault,” you say as you put your hands up.

No, it was not your fault at all - that was all Caitlin. Since her feelings developed for you and began to rapidly increase, she did everything in her power to be known by you. There is no one on this earth that she wanted to be seen by more than you and you did, you have made her feel and believe she is seen.

Kate comes over and pulls Cait to head back to the locker with the team. The fam says some brief goodbyes as you all part ways.

As Caitlin walks away with Kate, her smile falters a little and she tries to suppress a sigh.

Kate gives her a side eye and chooses not to say anything. When the two of them are walking down the tunnel, Caitlin rounds a corner and stops. Her back presses against the wall as her hands come up to her face and she releases the biggest exhale. Kate looks around then steps in front of Caitlin.

It’s as if Kate can physically see Caitlin’s heart break.

Cait brings her hands to her chest, pulls at her jersey then puts her hands on her knees as if trying to circulate more air through her lungs. Kate rubs her back and lets the lovesick girl detach.

“It gets harder each time,” Caitlin says. “Every time I see her, she looks better and all I want to do is just watch her every move. When her arms wrap around me, I never want them to let go. To inhale her scent every moment of every day.”

“I know,” Kate says softly. Kate has been watching her best friend and teammate struggle with this since their first season together. Kate remembers when she first recommended Caitlin to talk to you about her feelings which led to Caitlin going on an hour rant about how she could never do that because you were so intertwined with her family. Kate literally had to talk Caitlin down from the ledge of believing that her family would choose you over her.

"I don't know what I am going to do once the draft happens and I am no longer near her," Caitlin says and feels herself start to panic. This is not the time nor the place to be having these thoughts.

"Hey, you just broke the NCAA WBB scoring record - I know you are feeling a lot but we are going to go out and celebrate, okay?" Kate says trying to shift Caitlin's gears into a different direction and she does.

After that game, things in Caitlin's mind went back to the way they usually are - present but not at the forefront.

The next time she feels like she is suffocating in her own skin is in the finals. Iowa vs. South Carolina and things are not looking up for the Hawkeyes.

You are standing in the crowd and you watch Caitlin. Watch her struggle on the floor but never stop trying because that's not in her nature. You watch as the realization sets in that they aren't going to take it, rather how SC will. You watch as she exits the floor for the final time and makes her way to hug all of her coaches, smiling through the tears because the whole world is watching.

Caitlin knows she should stay on the floor, knows the cameras are following her every move but she just can't. She's human and needs the room to be. Coach Bluder gives her a nod and Caitlin makes her way through the tunnel. She knows she only has a few moments before she needs to be back on the floor but she tries not to think about that. As she walks down the tunnel, out of view from prying eyes - an arm grabs her and pulls her into a room.

Without a second thought, Caitlin knows it's you.

You pull her into as the younger girl falls apart. She lets out a heartbreaking cry as you squeeze her tighter.

"I've got you," you say. "I've got you."

You give her another moment and you both know the time is limited before she needs to be back out there.

You pull her away from your body and that is the last things she wants. You bring your hands up to wipe away her tears and sooth over her headband.

"You are Caitlin Clark," you say as you rub her cheek. "And you are my Cait."

Never before had Caitlin been grateful to be crying in your presence but she is beyond grateful that her cheeks are already flushed to hide the blush creeping up her neck.

"Go be you," you say and give her one more hug.

"I love you," Caitlin says before she can stop herself.

"I love you too," you say and Caitlin knows you don't mean it in the same way that she does.

She walks out and you stand there for a moment.

You watch as Caitlin walks back out to the court and you can't help but wonder why she has chosen you. Ya, you are Blake's best friend and have known her for as long as you can remember but the way Caitlin turns to you makes you never want it to stop.

That night Caitlin did exactly as she should. She doesn't really have time to process everything before she is headed to New York for Saturday Night Live then to the draft.

After Caitlin gets drafted first, you join Caitlin and her friends in celebrating the occasion. Before you know it, you are all at a rooftop bar.

"How are you feeling?" You ask Kate Martin about being picked in the draft.

"If I had words for it, if I did I would tell you, but I am speechless," she says as she takes a sip of her drink.

You shake your head with a smile.

"Kate Martin," you say. "You are going to take over the W."

She laughs and you both cheers for that. You look around and your eyes find Caitlin.

"The world isn't ready for her," you say.

Kate watches the way that you look over at Caitlin. She has seen the look before, knows it well. Has seen it in her best friend.

"I am going to go see if she needs another one," you say, lifting your drink and giving a smile to Kate.

Even if neither Caitlin or Kate got drafted, Kate believed that seeing that look on our face while looking at Caitlin was worth it.

"Clark!" You shout over the music.

She screams and throws her arms around you causing you to laugh.

"I love you soooooo much," she says with a little hiccup.

"Okay, I think you have had enough," you say, taking the drink from her hand. "Why don't we get you back to the room, shall we?"

"I will go anywhere with you," she says with a giggle.

"Sounds like someone is a little tipsy," you say as you swing one of her arms around your shoulder. "Let's not tell your brothers about how much you have had tonight."

"Ugh, don't bring up my brothers," she says and you laugh.

"Why not?" You ask. "You're brothers are the best."

Caitlin pouts.

"I'm the best," she says with a frown.

You laugh.

"Stop laughing at me," she says with a stomp.

"I am not laughing at you," you say. You lead Caitlin to her room.

"I am the best," Caitlin says. "Not Colin....not Colin. Not Blake."

You chuckle as you guide her to the bed of her hotel room.

Cait falls on the bed and lets you remove her shoes.

She pouts again.

"Why are are pouting?" You say as you sit her up to remove her jacket.

"Because," she says.

"Because why?" You ask.

"Marry Blake," she murmurs.

"Who's marrying Blake?" You ask, slipping her arms out of the jacket.

"You," she says as her head falls forward and leans against your shoulder.

You laugh.

"Stop laughing, everyone knows," she says.

"Caitlin, I am not going to marry Blake," you say.

"That's what mom thinks," Caitlin says. "But do you want to know a secret?"

You don't say anything as you lean her back, placing her head on the pillow.

"I don't want Blake to marry you," Caitlin says as you bring the blanket up to cover her.

"I am not going to marry Blake," you say.

"Good," she says as her eyes close and she begins dozing off. You turn the light and kiss her forehead.

"Goodnight Caitlin," you say as you begin to make your exit.

Right before you leave, you hear her.

"It's good because I'm going to marry you," Caitlin says with a yawn.

You stop dead in your tracks as you look back at the now sleeping girl. You slowly walk back to the sleeping Caitlin and brush her hair from her face. You take a good look at the girl in front of you and sigh. It would be a lie to say you haven't thought about what life would look like if you were honest with yourself about how you feel. But you also know how much more it affects than just the two of you. Whenever you think about Caitlin - your mind goes back to one night your freshman year of college.

"You ever gonna put yourself out there?" Blake asks as you dig your spoon into the tub of Ben and Jerry's ice cream.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You ask, giving him a 'you are not serious right now' look.

"I'm just saying - it's our freshman year, we are out of the nest and it's the time to get to know new people," he says, grabbing the tub of ice cream from you.

"Why do I need to meet new people when I know you?" You ask, grabbing the bag of chips in his lap.

Blake laughs, "You know what I mean."

"When the time comes, I'll just marry you," you joke, knowing both of you know that would never happen.

Blake rolls his eyes.

"No," he says and you laugh.

"Not happening," Blake says and you shake your head. "Not me or the sibs."

"What? You don't want me marrying Caitlin?" You joke and take the ice cream back.

"Absolutely not," Blake says laughing.

You lean down and kiss the top of her head, knowing no matter what you feel you would never act.

The next few months things stay the same. You don't bring up that night and never plan to. You try to give Caitlin a little more space which proves to be harder than you expected considering she calls you multiple times a week. At the beginning you tried to not answer every one but that led to Cait calling twice as much then drilling you with questions as to why you didn't answer.

You have been able to make most of her games so far, even when she hasn't asked. How could you not? She only has one rookie season.

You are now in Phoenix, AZ for the W's All-Star weekend. It's Blake, Colin and yourself, which has been quite interesting considering Caitlin only provided you all with one court-side ticket. She handed it directly to you, leaving Colin butt-hurt.

Now it is you court-side watching Caitlin and her team taking on the 2024 Olympic team. She has run over to you 3 times in the first half and you keep shooing her away.

"Did you see that last assist?'" She says after jogging up to you and you just push her away and roll your eyes.

"Cait, I am watching - now go play," you say, feeling like you are talking to a child.

She smiles at you and sprints to guard Jewel. When half time hits she starts to run your way when the whole team is heading to the locker and you just point to where her team is headed and she slows her skip to a stop, rolls her eyes and drastically makes her way back to the tunnel causing you to laugh.

When the team comes back out for their halftime warm-ups, Caitlin comes right over to you. As she does, she passes the ball she has to you.

You raise your eyebrows at the girl.

"Spin it," she says.

"Why?" You ask.

"Because I want to see it," She says like the two of you back in her backyard.

"Cait-" you start but she cuts you off.

"Come on, pleaseeee," she whines, causing you to yet again roll your eyes.

You flick the ball up and begin to spin it on your finger, keeping it going with a few taps. Caitlin smiles and knocks it off your finger, running back to the team.

"She seems like a handful," the woman next to you says as you sit back down.

"She sure is," you laugh.

"How long have the two of you been together?" The woman asks.

"Oh no, we aren't together," you say. The woman just nods with a slight smile.

"Could have fooled me, dear," she says. "And everyone in this building."

You take a deep breath and try to laugh off the woman's words.

You try to not be a distraction for the rest of the game but Cait keeps coming over to you, trying to start random conversations and you keep pushing her away. At one point, you are pushing her back on the court as she is actively fighting against you and Ab has to come over and grab her to get her back in the game.

At the end of the game, you stand and start looking for the Clark boys as Caitlin makes her way over, yet again.

She stands in front of you waiting for you post-game hug but you don't make a move.

"Hug?" She asks.

"I don't think you deserve a hug," you say honestly.

"What? Why?" Her tone defensive. "We won."

"Caitlin, you were over here like 20 times during the game - you've had more than enough me time," you say.

"Still want a hug," she pouts as Blake and Colin walk up.

"Great job CC," Colin says, giving her a hug.

"She could have played better," you say with a joking tone.

"Hey!" She yells and goes to pinch you but you dodge.

Blake stands and observes the interactions. He has been observing Cait around you for a while now and has begun to see what Cait has been hiding for years now.

"Are we getting food or are you too busy for us now?" Colin asks jokingly.

"Never too busy for you, twerp," she says as she ruffles his hair.

The four of you grab take out and head back to your room to enjoy food and each other's company. Once everyone is full and tired, the Clark siblings all head back to their rooms.

Blake stops Caitlin before she heads to her room. Caitlin looks at her brother.

He hesitates but finally speaks.

"How long?" Blake asks. Caitlin's heart speeds up.

"What are you talking about B?" Cait asks, knowing exactly what he is asking.

"How long?" He says more firmly now.

Caitlin looks down at the ground. After a few moments of silence, she lets out a little laugh.

"For as long as I can remember," Cait says, still not looking in her brother's eyes.

Blake processes what he has just been told and logs it with what he has been slowly observing with you around his little sister. He takes his time to really think.

Caitlin stands there, dying in his silence.

"Say something," she says.

Blake continues to take his time, thoroughly thinking through what he is about to say.

"I can't-" Blake begins but Caitlin stops him.

"This isn't just some crush. It isn't something that I haven't completely thought through myself," Caitlin says. "This is a love that has burned inside of me for years and at no point has it dulled or died. It isn't a phase. I love her, with every fiber of my being and it terrifies me. She is so intertwined in our family that I have spent countless nights thinking through every scenario of what could go wrong. She is your best friend. This would change so much, but I can't help but think how much more this can be for all of us."

Caitlin takes a deep breath, then holds it waiting to see what her big brother says.

Blake removes his glasses and rubs his eyes and Caitlin can already feel her heart breaking at his soon-to-be response.

"I'm sorry," Caitlin says quietly which causes Blake to immediately shake his head no.

"Don't say sorry," Blake says. "Never apologize for your feelings."

Caitlin can feel tears forming on the brim of her eyes. Blake closes his eyes.

"I just don't know what would happen if either of you get hurt," he says.

"I won't hurt her," Cait says in a heartbeat. "And if she hurts me, I probably deserve it."

"Okay," Blake finally says.

"Okay?" Caitlin asks, not willing to let her hopes rise just yet.

"Okay," Blake says again. "But she is still MY best friend."

Caitlin nods rapidly.

"So, how are you going to tell her?" Blake asks.

"I haven't thought that far," Caitlin says honestly.

Blake lets out a laugh.

"Well I am not going to help you there," Blake says.

"What? Why not?" Caitlin says.

"Because regardless of what you do, she is going to love it," Blake says. Blake has watched you turn down every person to ask you out over the years. He has seen how your interest is never as invested as those who are invested in you and how you would run through fire for his little sister.

Caitlin lights up at hearing those words. The two of them part and Cait begins to think through how she is going to tell you just how much she loves you.

Cait wants to do it immediately but going into olympic break knows there is no real reason for her to ask you to come down to Indiana.

It is a month after her conversation with Blake that she finally sees you again. She asks if you will go to her game against the Sky and you don't hesitate to say yes.

Per usual, you watch as Caitlin dominates leading the Fever to another win on the season.

At the end of the game you wait for her but notice she is taking longer than usual. The arena clears out and you wonder if you should just head back and meet Cait in her hotel but that is not your normal. You check your phone to find no new messages.

After about 20 more minutes and a practically empty arena, you grab your things and are about to head out when you see a familiar face running your way.

"There she is," you say with a smile.

Caitlin immediately finds her place in your arms as she nuzzles her face in your neck. You laugh as her breath tickles your neck. you hold her as you rock the both of you back and forth.

"Proud of you C," you say expecting her to release you but she doesn't. She stands there in your arms and you let her.

After a few minutes, you speak again.

"Ready for food?" You ask. She nods and you smile.

"Let's go," you say.

You guys grab food and head back to her hotel room. You both sit on different beds while you eat and watch a show. Once the food has been eaten, she finds her way in the bed you are in.

Caitlin is laying with her head in your lap as you play with her hair - not an abnormal position for the two of you.

There is an overwhelming sense of comfort that settles between the two of you.

You feel Caitlin shift but are too into the show that you don't notice her looking up at you now.

Cait watches you as she brings her hand up to grab the one that is running through her hair. She begins fiddling with your fingers, like she does with her own when she is overthinking.

"What's running through that little brain of yours?" You say, eyes still on the screen.

"My brain is not small," she retorts and you finally look down at her. You see how she is looking at you and feel little flurries in your stomach.

"I didn't say small, I said little," you say.

"That's the same thing," Cait says.

"You are avoiding the question," you say and Caitlin makes a move to sit up. She sits right in front of you and you give her a slight smile.

You can see the gears of her head turning as her fingers fiddle with themselves. You can tell she is beyond nervous.

Your hand comes to stop hers as you bring them onto your lap, rubbing your thumb along the back of her hand. She sighs and closes her eyes, trying to work up the courage to say what she wants to.

Your mind is going a mile a minute but is hiding it much better than she is. She is taking longer than you want and you make the decision to take the lead.

Without a second thought, you bring your hand to her neck and pull her into you - lips meeting in the middle. Cait lets out a little gasp. Once she realizes what is happening, she leans further into you never wanting to leave this moment.

You smile into the kiss and you feel her do the same.

You pull away and a little whine escapes Cait's lips causing you to chuckle.

"Don't laugh at me," she mumbles as she leans her head into your shoulder, a blush overtaking her face. She can't believe how every nerve in her body is on fire from a single kiss.

"That was really cute," you say and you bring you hand to her head, lifting her so you can look her in the eyes.

She looks in your eyes then down to your lips, leaning in to kiss you again. You let her take the lead as she moves her lips against yours. Your hands finding their way to your waist, squeezing them and guiding her to straddle you. She is intoxicated by you and can't believe she has waited this long to have a taste.

After a few more moments, you put your hand on her chest and push her away. It is your turn to rest your head on her shoulder as you steady your breath.

"Marry me," Caitlin states and you let out a hearty laugh, lifting your head to look at her only to find she is semi-serious.

"I'm serious," she says as she brings her hand to cup your face.

Your eyebrows furrow and you just look at her.

"Caitlin, I can't-" you begin but she stops you, just like she stopped Blake.

"Blake knows," she blurts out. "He knows I'm in love with you and he didn't kill me. He knows and it is okay, he is okay."

Your heart is full at hearing her say she is in love with you.

"You should have lead with that and not 'marry me'," you say, shaking your head trying to hide a smile.

"Well it is going to happen someday, so why not today?" Caitlin says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

"What if I say no?" You counter.

Caitlin laughs.

"When is the last time you have said no to me?" She asks and you have to think.

She brings her forehead to yours, "You, my love, have never said no to me."

"Well there is a first time for everything," you say with a shrug.

"You are not going to say no to me," she says.

"I don't know why we are talking about marriage when we haven't even been on a date," you say.

"Fine, we can go on a date and then we can get married," she says and you roll your eyes.

"Caitlin Clark, you are unbelievable."

AN: I needed to get this out. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[haikyu-mp4]

Wrong team – Kageyama x reader wc 986 – f!reader, brother!Atsumu, brother!Osamu

Being a student could be difficult, but being a student in Osaka and Osamu Miya’s little sister had its perks. Osamu hired you quite quickly after you graduated from high school, letting you work part-time at the restaurant, which also meant you were his favourite employee to bring for job excursions.

Like this huge one, where your other brother and his team were playing against the Schweiden Adlers.

You practically bounced as you walked past the banners when entering the arena a couple of hours before the game was set to start. Chatting away with Osamu on how you thought the teams would play, the two of you enjoyed setting up the stall and preparing everything to hopefully sell a bunch of delicious onigiri.

“Okay, ya did good. Ya get…” Osamu checked his wrist watch, humming under his breath before smiling up at you again. “Fifteen minutes to roam around, then I need ya back here.”

“Thanks!” you squealed and high-fived him quickly before running off, still wearing your complete uniform. Osamu had told you it was better to keep it on so that no one thought you had snuck in, so you even had the cap and name tag on.

You first ventured around the halls for a bit, nervous to approach the actual court where you could hear them warming up. However, the nervousness eventually couldn’t stop you from peeking inside.

There they are, the gorgeous Schwe- oops, surely you mean the Black Jackals?

Smiling sheepishly to yourself, you slowly crept inside the main arena to observe. Just as you found Atsumu, he seemed to catch a break and ran off towards Osamu’s stand, probably to check if everything was okay. You frowned, wondering if you should turn back so you could wish him good luck before-

“Hi.”

It felt like your heart jumped right out of your chest at the unexpected company, eyes snapping to the Kageyama Tobio standing there with a volleyball tucked between his elbow and waist. In an attempt to hide that you had to catch your breath, you cleared your throat and adjusted your hat. “Hey! Ready for the game?”

That was smooth enough. Good job.

“Getting there, it’s our turn for warm-ups on the court in about a minute,” he told you casually. Clearly, he wasn’t aware of your clammy hands and burning ears.

“I’ll be cheering for ya! From the food stands,” you told him with an awkward chuckle.

Kageyama walked closer to you, leaning in to look at your name tag and the logo on your shirt. His eyes seemed to brighten, and you felt entranced with their oceans. “Thank you. I might have to come get some onigiri if you have any left after the game… and the signing… and the press meeting.”

You chuckled more genuinely this time, charmed by how he got more and more dejected at the realisation that he might not have the time to get onigiri today. “If yer ever back in town, ya could always swing by. We’d be happy to serve ya, maybe even add yer photo to the wall of fame.”

“Speaking of, shouldn’t you be cheering for the other team? With that last name on your shirt.” Your heart once again tried to kill you as it did a double take with Kageyama’s surprisingly cheeky comment.

“I’ll have ya know it’s not just on ma’ shirt-”

“Y/N?!”

You sighed, a headache already forming at Atsumu’s heavy footsteps. “I just came to tell ya good luck, Tsum.”

Atsumu glanced at Kageyama, who seemed to take the hint and gave you a little bow before gathering with his team to start warming up their attacks. You waved him goodbye before getting pulled back by Atsumu, all the way back to Osamu’s stall.

“It’s yer responsibility when we’re here that no Adlers get close to her,” Atsumu instructed to deaf ears. Osamu was too busy readying the register and simply waved him off. “She’s our baby sister- ow!”

After you threw a solid punch at his arm, he finally let go of you so you could return to your spot behind the stall. “Cringe,” Osamu commented, making you nod in agreement.

“I’m barely two years younger than ya.”

After Atsumu made his way back to his team, you barely had a spare minute to think much about your interaction with Kageyama. A lot of people came to watch, including several old friends of yours from Inarizaki, so you sold a lot of food before the game started and held a conversation or two to catch up where you could.

About ten minutes into the game, the line finally dispersed as everyone got back to their seats to watch the best game of the season. “Tsumu’s up to serve,” you mumbled as if Osamu wasn’t watching the same thing.

The serve was great, but Hoshiumi was on it, getting the ball up for Kageyama in a tough spot. You clutched your hands together as you watched in anticipation, ultimately cheering when the set led to Schweiden Adlers’ point. Osamu placed a hand on your head, pushing your cap down over your face. “Wrong team, idiot.”

Osamu hadn’t actually taken any of Atsumu’s allegations seriously, but maybe he should have. That’s what he thought when he watched Kageyama walk inside his restaurant one evening, hands tucked deep in his pockets and looking around like he wasn’t there for him.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya. How can I help ya?”

“I was hoping-” Kageyama’s eyes trailed from the kitchen behind Osamu and back to him, a small pout on his lips. “I’ll just have today’s special.”

“So yer the Adler my brother warned me about, tsk tsk.” Osamu shook his head and sighed as if this took years off his life. “I’ll get her.”

Atsumu will be livid when he hears about this, Osamu thought, and that was always his greatest motivation.

masterlist

requested by @livelaughlovetoru for my event, anything for you <3 I changed your idea a little to my preference, but I hope it’s still enjoyable!

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Ours to Claim

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd x Reader

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: who would’ve thought an old friend would have that affect on Paige and Azzi…

Sorry it took so long, @paigeluvvr

🏷️: @yailtsv , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paige05bby , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld

I was just about to head into the little café in Storrs when I heard my name called from across the street.

“Y/N? No way!”

I turned to see a familiar face—Josh, an old friend from high school. We hadn’t spoken much since graduation, but he was one of those people who always felt easy to reconnect with.

“Josh?” I grinned, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Business trip,” he said, jogging across the street. “Figured I’d grab some coffee before heading to my next meeting. How have you been?”

We started catching up, talking about old times, laughing about how much had changed since high school. It was nice, lighthearted, and completely innocent.

But the warmth in my chest quickly turned to unease when I caught sight of Paige and Azzi standing at the entrance of the café, staring at us.

Both of their expressions were tight, unreadable to anyone who didn’t know them well. But I did. And I knew that kind of silence meant trouble.

I wrapped up my conversation with Josh, giving him a quick side hug before he left, and turned to my girlfriends.

“Hey,” I said, a little breathless, stepping up to them. “I was just catching up with an old friend. He was in town for—”

“We saw,” Paige cut me off, her voice sharp.

Azzi crossed her arms, gaze cool but jaw clenched. “Looked real cozy.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the edge in her voice. “Wait, are you guys serious right now?”

Neither of them responded, just turned and walked into the café. I followed, confused and already irritated.

Lunch was tense. Paige barely touched her food, and Azzi was quieter than usual, both of them simmering in unspoken jealousy.

By the time we got into the car to head back to our apartment, the silence had stretched too thin. I sighed, arms crossed over my chest as I sat in the passenger seat while Paige drove.

“So are we gonna talk about this?” I asked, breaking the silence.

Azzi scoffed from the backseat. “Talk about what? How our girlfriend was giggling with some guy we’ve never even heard of?”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh my God, you’re both being dramatic.”

Paige let out a bitter laugh, gripping the steering wheel a little too tight. “Dramatic?” she echoed. “We show up for lunch and see you hugging some random guy, looking all happy and touchy, and we’re supposed to just be cool with that?”

“He’s not a ‘random guy,’ he’s an old friend!” I snapped. “I haven’t seen him in years, and we were literally just talking. You two are acting like I was making out with him in the street!”

Azzi leaned forward, her voice lower, but firm. “You weren’t, but the way he was looking at you? He wanted to.”

I scoffed. “And how the hell do you know that?”

“Because we know what it looks like when someone wants you,” Paige said, eyes locked on the road.

I clenched my jaw, frustration bubbling under my skin. “Well, too bad for him, because I’m already taken,” I shot back.

Paige pulled into our parking spot, threw the car in park, and turned to me with piercing eyes. “Are you?” she challenged.

I inhaled sharply, heat flashing in my chest. “You know damn well I am.”

Azzi tilted her head. “Then why didn’t you introduce us?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it, because I didn’t have a real answer. The truth was, I had gotten caught up in the moment and hadn’t even thought about it.

Paige smirked slightly, but it wasn’t a kind one. “Exactly.”

The moment we stepped into our apartment, I turned to them, ready to argue some more, but Paige was on me in an instant.

She pressed me against the wall, her hands gripping my waist firmly, possessively. My breath hitched, and before I could react, Azzi was right there too, her body caging me in from the other side.

“Wait—”

“Not so fast,” Paige murmured, her lips brushing against my jaw. “You had your fun catching up with him. Now, we remind you who you belong to.”

My heart pounded as Azzi’s fingers traced up my arm, her touch featherlight but intentional.

“You’re ours,” Azzi whispered against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

Their jealousy had shifted into something else—something intense and undeniable.

Paige kissed along my neck, slow but with a purpose, her lips and teeth leaving marks. I gasped, gripping her hoodie, torn between protesting and melting under their attention.

“Look at you,” Azzi mused, tilting my chin so I had to meet her eyes. “Always saying we’re dramatic, but you love when we get like this, don’t you?”

I swallowed hard, my body betraying me as I pressed further into them.

Paige chuckled against my skin. “That’s what I thought.”

Their hands roamed, leaving no part of me untouched. A shiver coursed through me as Azzi’s fingers danced along the hem of my shirt, slowly inching it upwards. Paige’s hands were equally skilled, tracing the curve of my hips, sending sparks of anticipation through every nerve ending.

“We’re going to spoil you tonight,” Azzi whispered, her breath warm against my ear. “Completely and utterly spoil you.”

I didn’t doubt her for a second. There was a hunger in their eyes, a possessiveness that both thrilled and intimidated me. I knew I was walking a dangerous line, surrendering control to their desires, but the temptation was too strong to resist.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Azzi pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it carelessly to the side. The cool air of the room kissed my skin, heightening my awareness of their touch. Paige’s gaze intensified as she took in my exposed torso, her eyes lingering on every curve and contour.

“Beautiful,” she breathed, her voice husky with desire.

Before I could respond, Azzi’s lips were on mine, her kiss deep and demanding. I met her intensity with my own, losing myself in the intoxicating swirl of passion. Paige joined in, her hands tracing the sensitive skin of my back, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine.

Their kisses were a symphony of desire, a tantalizing blend of tenderness and dominance. I moaned softly, my body aching for more. They seemed to take pleasure in my reaction, their touch becoming bolder, more insistent.

Azzi broke away from the kiss, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Ready for the next step?” she purred, reaching for the bedside drawer.

My heart pounded in my chest as she retrieved a sleek, purple strap-on. I had seen it before, of course, but the sight of it now, in Azzi’s hands, sent a jolt of electricity through me.

Paige gently guided me to the edge of the bed, positioning me so that my legs dangled over the side. I watched, mesmerized, as Azzi expertly strapped the harness around her waist, her movements fluid and confident.

“Relax,” Paige murmured, stroking my hair. “We’re going to take care of you.”

I tried to follow her instructions, but my nerves were on edge. I had never done anything like this before, and the anticipation was almost overwhelming.

Azzi straddled my lap, her eyes locking with mine. “Are you ready?” she asked, her voice low and seductive.

I nodded, my throat suddenly dry.

With a slow, teasing motion, Azzi pressed the head of the strap-on against my entrance. I gasped, my body tensing in anticipation.

“Easy,” Paige whispered, her hands gently kneading the muscles in my shoulders. “Just breathe.”

Azzi began to move, slowly at first, testing my limits. I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensations that were building within me. It was intense, unfamiliar, but undeniably pleasurable.

As Azzi’s pace quickened, I lost myself in the rhythm of her movements. My body arched against hers, craving more. Paige’s hands roamed my body, teasing and tantalizing, driving me closer to the edge.

Just as I thought I couldn’t take anymore, Azzi stopped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “Your turn to worship, baby” she commanded, her voice husky with passion.

I didn’t hesitate. I reached for Azzi, pulling her closer, my lips meeting hers in a searing kiss. Paige moved to stand in front of me, her eyes filled with desire.

I lowered my head, my tongue tracing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Paige moaned softly, her hands gripping my hair. I continued my exploration, teasing and tantalizing, until she was writhing in my grasp.

With a final, desperate plea, Paige guided me to her most sensitive spot. I licked and sucked, my tongue working its magic, until she was screaming my name.

As Paige’s climax subsided, Azzi took her place. I knelt before her, my eyes locking with hers. She was a vision of raw desire, her body trembling with anticipation.

I lowered my head, my lips brushing against her most sensitive point. Azzi gasped, her hands gripping my head, urging me closer.

I knew what she wanted, and I was more than happy to oblige. I licked and sucked, my tongue dancing over her sensitive flesh, until she was moaning and begging for more.

As Azzi’s climax approached, Paige took over, her fingers expertly teasing and tantalizing, driving her over the edge. Azzi screamed, her body convulsing in pleasure.

When Azzi had recovered, it was her turn to take control. She positioned me on my hands and knees, my back arched, my body exposed. Paige stood beside her, coaching her through every move.

“Easy, baby,” Paige murmured, her voice soft and encouraging. “Just take it slow.”

Azzi hesitated for a moment, her eyes filled with uncertainty. But with Paige’s guidance, she found her confidence.

She positioned the strap-on at my entrance, her hands trembling slightly.

With a deep breath, she pushed forward, slowly and deliberately. I gasped, my body tensing in anticipation.

“Relax,” Paige whispered, her hands gently stroking my back. “You’re doing great.”

As Azzi’s pace quickened, I lost myself in the rhythm of her movements. My body arched against hers, craving more. Paige’s hands roamed my body, teasing and tantalizing, driving me closer to the edge.

Just as I thought I couldn’t take anymore, Azzi stopped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

I nodded, my throat suddenly dry.“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her eyes searching mine.

“You’re not hurting me,” I assured her. “I want this.”

Azzi’s eyes lit up with renewed determination. She took a deep breath and began to move again, her pace quickening, her movements becoming more confident.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensations that were building within me. It was intense, exhilarating, and undeniably pleasurable.

As Azzi’s climax approached, I felt myself spiraling out of control. My body convulsed, my muscles tensing and releasing in a wave of pure ecstasy.

I screamed, my voice echoing through the room. Azzi continued to move, her own climax building, until she finally collapsed on top of me, her body trembling with exhaustion.

We lay there for a long time, our bodies intertwined, our breath coming in ragged gasps. The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, a testament to the intensity of our passion.

Finally, Paige stirred, her eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction. “That was… incredible,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Azzi nodded in agreement, her head resting on my chest. “Definitely one for the books,” she added, her voice equally soft

The room was quiet now, save for the slow, steady rhythm of our breathing. My body was still buzzing from the intensity of what had just happened—Paige and Azzi’s hands, their mouths, their whispered claims against my skin.

Now, I lay sandwiched between them in our bed, their warmth pressing against me from both sides. My skin still tingled where they had marked me, but the raw tension from earlier had softened into something gentler, something tender.

Paige was tracing slow circles along my side, while Azzi’s fingers were lightly combing through my hair, her touch soothing. I exhaled, my body sinking deeper into the mattress.

For a while, none of us spoke. The jealousy-fueled storm had passed, leaving only the quiet hum of comfort in its wake.

Then, Paige let out a sigh against my shoulder, her lips brushing my skin. “We were assholes,” she murmured.

Azzi hummed in agreement, her fingers still carding through my hair. “Yeah… we were way out of line.”

I blinked, tilting my head slightly to look at them. “So you admit you were being dramatic?” I teased, though my voice was softer now, no real bite behind it.

Paige groaned, burying her face against my neck. “Don’t rub it in, ma.”

Azzi chuckled, but then her voice turned more serious. “For real, though… we shouldn’t have made you feel like that. We trust you—we know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt us.”

Paige lifted her head, her blue eyes meeting mine. “But that doesn’t excuse how we acted. We let our jealousy get the best of us, and instead of talking about it like normal people, we just…” She trailed off, exhaling. “Yeah, we fucked up.”

I watched them for a moment, taking in the sincerity in their faces. My chest ached—not with anger anymore, but with affection.

“You really did,” I admitted, but my tone was gentle. “You made me feel like I did something wrong when I was just catching up with an old friend.”

Azzi winced. “We know. And we’re sorry, baby.”

Paige nodded, brushing a hand along my jaw. “We love you. So much. And sometimes, that love makes us a little…” She searched for the right word.

Azzi smirked. “Possessive?”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “A little?”

Paige huffed, nudging my nose with hers. “Fine. A lot.”

I sighed, letting some of the last remnants of tension leave my body. “I love you guys too. But next time, just talk to me, okay? Instead of jumping straight into jealousy mode.”

Azzi nodded, leaning in to kiss my forehead. “Promise.”

Paige followed suit, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. “Promise.”

For a moment, we just lay there, wrapped up in each other.

Then Paige shifted, pulling the covers up around us. “You good? Need anything?”

Azzi’s fingers traced down my arm. “Water? Snacks? A bath?”

I smiled, feeling the warmth of their care settle deep in my chest. “Honestly? Just wanna stay like this for a while.”

Paige smirked. “Good, ‘cause I wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.”

Azzi grinned. “Yeah, we gotta make sure you remember exactly who you belong to, right?”

I rolled my eyes but snuggled deeper between them. “Yeah, yeah… I got the message loud and clear.”

Paige pressed another kiss to my shoulder, and Azzi tucked me closer into her warmth.

---

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                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[ordinary-barbie]

scary dog privileges.

summary: Nobody's messing with you as long as Rafe Cameron is around.

pairing: rafe x sweet!pogue!reader

word count: 1.7k

tags: fem!reader, swearing, a guy acts like a creep towards reader, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex (protected), mutual orgasms

note: dipping my toes into obx fanfic after hyperfixating/crushing on Drew Starkey and reading a ton of Rafe stories, haha. I have not seen the show but I'm shooting my shot here anyway!

~~~~

They say that opposites attract, which couldn't be more accurate regarding your relationship with Rafe Cameron.

Rafe was the Kook king of Kildare Island, someone who oozed cockiness and arrogance. Meanwhile, you were a soft-spoken Pogue. When people spotted the two of you together, they couldn't wrap their heads around it, and frankly, neither could you. Rafe had his pick of any girl on the island - especially the Kooks - but somehow he only had eyes for you, which warmed your heart.

It all started last year, with a party at Tannyhill to celebrate your class graduating from high school. You were content to stay under your covers, binging Love Island Australia on Hulu, but your friend Olivia had begged you to come with her. Eventually, you relented, your curiosity about one of Rafe Cameron's famous parties getting the better of you.

Within five minutes, you'd ran into Rafe—literally. You'd been swaying to the music and accidentally bumped into him, spilling your drink all over his shirt. You'd been mortified, apologizing profusely and insisting on helping him clean up.

Rafe was a goner ever since.

Now it was time for another Tannyhill bash to celebrate the start of summer, and you were squarely by Rafe's side. In the year you'd been together, you'd discovered how protective your boyfriend was. He held onto you like an anchor, always having an arm wrapped around your waist or shoulders, no matter if he was talking to Topper and Kelce or kicking some rando's ass at beer pong. You appreciated it; parties often made you feel like a nervous baby deer, and it was nice to have someone to hold on to.

Unfortunately, you couldn't always be joined at the hip. "I'm gonna piss but I'll be right back, baby," Rafe promised, giving your ass a light squeeze on the way to the bathroom. As soon as your boyfriend was out of sight, your smile dropped. While you'd made an effort to get to know Rafe's friends, you were still incredibly nervous in a house full of Kooks.

To kill some time, you scrolled through Instagram, giggling at Olivia's latest story. She'd posted herself having a "friendly pizza sesh" with a guy, but you knew she'd had a huge crush on him since high school.

Suddenly, a shadow passed over you. "What's got you laughing like that, pretty girl?" You jumped, startled by the unfamiliar male voice.

A smirking guy with short, curly dark brown hair and glinting hazel eyes sauntered up to you. "Hey, I'm Aidan. I'm new in town—but maybe a cute thing like you could show me around?" he lazily drawled.

Your skin prickled with discomfort. You suddenly wanted to shrink into yourself, but you forced yourself to smile anyway. "Sorry, I'm not interested."

Aidan laughed, undeterred, and leaned into you. "Playing hard to get, huh? That's kinda hot," he whispered into your ear, making your stomach churn.

"I said no thanks," you responded, laughing nervously. You should run. You needed to get out of there. But for some reason, you found yourself rooted to the spot, trapped with Aidan and the pungent stench of his cologne.

Aidan pouted, using his arms to pin you against the wall. "C'mon babe, just give me a chance. I don't bite."

"How many times is she gonna tell you to fuck off before you get the point?" Relief flooded your chest at the sound of your boyfriend's voice.

Aidan rolled his eyes. "Why don't you fuck off, dude? We were having a moment."

Rafe glared at Aidan, his eyes blazing with rage, and grabbed the other boy by the collar of his Lacoste polo. "That's my girlfriend, you jackass. And you're gonna step the fuck away from her. Now."

You suddenly felt a zinging sensation in your core, turned on by Rafe's behavior. He was so sweet and silly and kind but could turn into a snarling dog in an instant — definitely not someone to fuck around with.

Rafe released Aidan's collar and the brunette gulped, suddenly trembling with fear.

"I - I'm sorry man. I had no idea," Aidan stammered. "I'll leave her alone."

Rafe wrapped a protective arm around your waist, scowling at Aidan. "Get the fuck out of my house."

Aidan meekly nodded, scurrying out of Tannyhill. The party filled with laughter, with people cheering Rafe on. But Rafe ignored the commotion, only focused on you.

"I'm so sorry baby. I should've been there to protect you from that—that asshat," Rafe apologetically said, tenderly stroking your cheek. You leaned into his touch, instantly comforted by the warmth radiating from his body.

"It's okay, Rafe," you assured him. "It's not like you could take me into the bathroom with you."

Rafe frowned, kissing the top of your head. "Maybe I should. Can't have these fuckin creeps tryna mess with my girl."

You laughed, shaking your head at your well-meaning boyfriend. "I adore you, but I'm not gonna stand there and watch you pee."

Rafe flashed you a lopsided grin. "Why not? We've done way worse things in there. That poor sink has seen some shit."

You playfully shoved Rafe's shoulder. "Rafe Alexander Cameron! I can't believe my knight in shining armor is so crass."

"Don't act like you don't love it, baby," he casually replied, kissing your neck. You let out a soft moan, tilting upward so Rafe could have more access.

The two of you were interrupted by the sound of Topper fake retching. "Begging y'all to please get a room," he pleaded. You couldn't help but snicker at Topper's dramatics.

Rafe lazily flipped off his friend before whisking you off to his bedroom and locking the door. "Get on the bed for me, pretty girl," Rafe said huskily, brushing his lips against your ear. Damn, that nickname sounded so much sexier from Rafe's lips than that douche from earlier. (Aaron? Andrew?)

You kicked off your sandals and laid down on top of Rafe's king-sized bed, pulling off your dress and underwear. Rafe quickly shed himself of his clothes and laid on top of you, kissing down every inch of your body.

"So I'm your knight in shining armor, huh? Well let me give my princess the treatment she deserves," Rafe drawled, relishing in the way your body reacted to his touch.

He plunged two fingers inside you, pumping them in and curling them right against your sweet spot. You gasped, loving the way he stretched you out. Rafe had been the only guy you'd ever slept with and at this point, you couldn't imagine yourself with anyone else; how could you, when you've only experienced the best?

You began to crave more than just his fingers, however. "Rafey," you whined, fully overcome with lust.

Rafe chuckled, lazily rubbing at your clit. "Use your words, princess. Tell me how to make you feel good."

You gulped, still feeling a little timid when it came to expressing your desires in the bedroom. "I need—I need your mouth, Rafey. Please."

Rafe knitted his eyebrows in mock confusion. "Where, baby? Your lips? Your cheek? Your forehead?"

"Rafe Cameron. Eat my pussy before I explode," you begged, your horniness taking over.

Rafe smirked, pulling his fingers out of you before slowly running his tongue across your folds. “Fuck, I love it when you talk dirty. Almost as much as I love this sweet little pussy. She's already so wet for me, holy shit."

You whimpered, arching your back in ecstasy as Rafe continued to pleasure you, kissing and sucking at your clit. You felt that familiar fire in your stomach, a sure sign that your climax was fast approaching.

"Oh, Rafe—'m gonna cum," you moaned, your legs shaking. Rafe sped up his movements, rubbing your clit with his thumb and index finger while pumping his tongue in and out of your hole. Eventually the dam burst and you felt your orgasm wash over you as your legs clamped down on either side of Rafe's head.

You took a minute to come down from your high, admiring the sight of your boyfriend with mussed-up hair and your glistening slick decorating his face. Even while looking totally disheveled, Rafe was a work of art.

Rafe wiped his face with the back of his hand, savoring the rest of your juices on his fingers. "Always my favorite meal baby," he purred. "But now I need to be inside you. Turn around for me, princess."

You shifted your position on the bed so you were lying on your stomach while Rafe rummaged in his bedside drawer for a condom. You heard him unwrapping the foil packet and rolling the condom on before feeling the head of Rafe's cock teasing your hole. You let out a breathy moan, loving and loathing the teasing simultaneously.

Rafe held on to your hips as he pushed into you, thrusting in and out at a steady pace. "Can't get enough of this pussy," he grunted. "So warm and tight f'me."

The din of the party going on downstairs faded away, and you could only focus on the sounds of sex occurring in the room: the duet of moans between Rafe and you, the creak of the bed, the sound of skin slapping against skin. A year ago, you couldn't imagine coming out of your shell like this. But now? Well—

"Gonna cum again, Rafey," you breathily blurted out, feeling your pussy clench down on Rafe's cock.

"Fuck yeah, princess, just come all over my cock," Rafe groaned.

Almost as if on cue, you felt your climax wash over you, and Rafe helped you ride out your orgasm before spilling his load into the condom. You had a fleeting thought about Rafe shooting his cum inside you instead, but you weren't quite ready for that yet.

You and Rafe took a minute to catch your breaths before he took off the condom and tied it up, tossing it into the wastebasket next to his bed. He rolled over on his side, enveloping you in his arms and burying his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

"Baby, you're incredible," Rafe murmured, kissing your shoulder.

You smiled, feeling light and airy inside. "Rafe, you're incredible. Thanks for being my scary dog earlier."

"I'm sorry, 'scary dog?'" Rafe repeated with a laugh.

"Scary dog privilege. It's something I saw on TikTok," you explained. "Basically it means that if you're with an intimidating-looking person, people will leave you alone because they don't want to mess with a scary dog. And seeing you be protective like that? It was pretty hot."

Rafe fondly gazed at you, stroking your hip. "Well shit, I'll be your scary dog anytime then, baby."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

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.”

[zozowrites]

There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays

Paige Bueckers x ex!fem!reader (no Y/N)

Words: 3k

Synopsis: Blackout Wednesday rekindles some old flames.

All the shoes squeak on the sticky floor and the pungent, yeasty smell of beer floods the noses of any new patrons who enter the bar. The Paige-blonde hair is the last head of the newest group to enter, and you catch yourself doing a double take from the makeshift dance floor. Trying to convince yourself it’s just the alcohol coursing through your veins that’s making you see things. You hadn’t seen Paige since either of you left for college. It was better off like that. 

But then on your third look towards the booth the group of girls had slid into, you catch the gleam of her blue eyes and there’s no denying Paige is here with her friends in the same bar you and your friends always frequented, and on blackout Wednesday of all nights. 

You suppose it was sort of the purpose of blackout Wednesday, especially in a hometown as small as yours. Since it was your senior year of college, practically everyone from your high school’s graduating class that had a social life was out and about tonight. But Joe’s had always been your spot, so it felt weird that Paige would come in here. 

The cold fingers of your best friend tap you on the shoulder and it pulls you out of your trance. 

“Paige’s here,” You say to her, not quite sure the appropriate volume to be heard over the music but not across the room. 

“I know,” She says, a sloppy smirk growing onto her face. “I tapped you so you’d stop staring at her.” 

“But she was staring back,” You say, the words slipping out of your tipsy mouth before you even realized you were speaking. Before you even realized that what you had said was actually right. 

“So it looks like you have some unfinished business to address then?” She asks, setting her drink down and reaching for yours in your hand. Instead of taking a sip like you thought she would, she sets it down next to hers. 

“Oh no,” You scoff, reaching for the drink that she pushes further out of your reach. “Our business is plenty finished.” 

“Well the fact that we still talked about it on a monthly basis until last year begs to differ,” She remarks. Of course she would bring this back up. Just because she was the only person you had genuinely felt attraction to before doesn’t mean you weren’t over her. Because you were. It just means whenever you have any sort of romantic prospect, they need to be compared to her. Naturally.

At the buzz of your phone in your pocket you slip it out clumsily and slide into a bar stool, keeping one leg on the ground. 

Don’t answer, bitch!!: ur not subtle u know

Your best friend gives you a knowing look that also somehow says “just go and get it out of your system” so you disregard the warning of the contact name and respond. 

You: its not like your’e not looking too

“You okay there, Ma? A typo’s not like you.” The beautifully deep and yet still very feminine voice asks and you look up from the white glow of your phone to find Paige standing pretty close, the scent of her baby blue t-shirt wafting into your personal space. You sigh as you take in her soft blonde hair she left down to fall into lazy waves. You push the memory of her head in your lap, of your fingers running through her hair. Or of sitting on the bleachers and braiding her hair before a game. Or of sitting next to her on the bus, leaning your heads on each other to sleep on the way back from an away game. 

“Yo I said are you okay there Ma?” She asks again. You get an image of her guiding you back into this stool and you’re suddenly glad you were already sitting in it when she came over. 

I should play nice, you think to yourself. There’s no reason to start a tif on Thanksgiving break. Everyone will be back at school and back into their own worlds in just a few short days. 

“And why would you care?” You spat back, not able to control yourself. Then you decided to add the nickname to throw it back at her, “Ma?”

She just lets out a sigh and gestures to the seat next to you. “This seat taken?” 

“Yeah my best friend is sitting there,” You respond, obviously lying. Paige sits anyways. She leans her forearms on the bar and you wonder to yourself how she managed to get hotter in the two years you haven’t talked. Well, more like the two years you hadn’t responded now. Someone had to make the change so the both of you could move on. 

“Yeah I know you and I know her. And I know that she ‘left’ for the bathroom when I started walking over here because she wants me to talk to you. And no matter what you tell yourself, you wanted me to talk to you too.” 

The glass leaves a line of condensation as you slide your dirty Shirley across the bar from in front of your best friends real seat to the one Paige had taken. 

“You make too much sense. Drink something.” You say. It just earns a chuckle from the blonde. She takes a long sip of your pretty full drink obligingly. 

“I came to apologize.” She says when she sets it back down. She keeps it in front of her, swirling the small black bar straw through the ice of the drink. 

This makes you scoff. 

“Do you even know for what?” 

“Yes.” She says, the dead serious look in her eyes breaking through your haze of alcohol. You believe her. That’s not the problem. The problem is that you always do. 

This makes you reach back out for your drink, but when you grab it to take a sip, Paige doesn’t let go. Instead she lets you guide her hand and the glass to your lips, and lets you slowly tip it back. 

“Then tell me, what are you sorry for?” 

“Everything.” 

“Not good enough.” 

“I know. I’m sorry especially for the last time. That I said I was going to be different and then acted the same. I’m sorry I never called to tell you I was feeling anxious about it again. I’m sorry I just stopped talking to you instead of saying something. I’m really genuinely sorry, you know. I wish I could take it back. I wish I never fucked it up so bad. I wish I could go back and do it all again differently.” She says to you, her blue eyes boring into yours. 

You take a second before responding, not wanting to let the drinks influence your word choice. “Do you remember what I said on the first time you called me our freshman year in the spring?” 

“That phone call was four hours long, I’m gonna need you to be a little more specific.” 

“When you said you always disappear because you’re so afraid of messing it up and hurting me.” 

“Yeah.” She says. “Which I realize now probably hurt you.” 

“Well on that phone call I also said to stop trying to take responsibility for hurting me. I would never let you fucking hurt me Paige. I learned after the first time in the eighth grade that it wasn’t gonna work, so I learned to just have fun. I learned how to not let you hurt me.” The attitude was coming back out. You really had tried to keep the peace when starting this apparently pretty serious conversation. But this topic inevitably always came up every time you two started something new again. 

“I’m sorry-“ 

“Shut up I’m talking now.” You say and she laughs. It makes you laugh. It’s familiar which is nice, but the niceness of it all makes your heart ache a little bit. The laughter reminds you of late night frozen yogurt runs after admitting you still had feelings for one another and kissing just out of sight of the Ring camera in your driveway. Of playing hide and seek from your best friend and laughing at nothing while shoved into a bathtub. 

“Anyways, as I WAS saying, I was trying to bring up that I told you that I would always be here if you wanted to start something again. That I would say yes as many time as it took to get it right. That no matter how bad it went the last time, I probably wouldn’t be able to say no. So I stopped saying anything at all. That’s why I haven’t responded.” 

“Do you still feel that way?” 

“What way?” 

“Would you still say yes if I asked?” 

“If you asked what?” You responded, being coy with it. It wasn’t your responsibility to say her feelings for her. She can be a grown up just like you. 

“I want to be a part of your life again. However much you’ll have me.” 

Those were not the words you had expected her to say. If anything you would think she would want to ask if you wanted to try again, or if you wanted to sneak off to the bathroom to hit it just this once. But to ask to just simply be a part of your life? In whatever way you’ll have her? 

How were you supposed to say no. Of course you missed her. Over the years the hole of her absence had shrunk, surely, but it never healed. “It’s not like it was with Paige” was always running through the back of your mind whenever you met someone new. 

This sort of a proposition is a slippery slope. You two could go to from friends to something more to nothing at all in a blink of an eye. That’s actually what you’re best at together. This sort of opening, presenting as a tame and gentle re-connection is just the sort of thing you needed to actually avoid to not get hurt. A quick fuck in the bathroom wasn’t going to be an emotional rollercoaster. 

“Don’t you just want to go fuck in the bathroom instead or something?” 

She laughs, but this time you don’t. 

“I have two answers to this. Both of which I probably shouldn’t say but will anyways. Yes, I will always want to fuck you in the bathroom. And no, I want to be not just a hook up this time. I want longevity.” 

“Well, P boogers, for longevity you’ll have to earn my trust back. Text me tomorrow and let’s make plans for Friday.” You say since your best friend just returned from the bathroom, pointing to her mom on speaker phone. 

“She’s here to pick us up,” She says and you slide out of your seat and into the chilly night air, not bothered enough to look back at Paige, whose gaze you could feel following your steps out. 

The buzz of your phone had you on high alert all day. The first two were spam emails, and the third was a series of texts in your friend’s group chat. As you pulled your phone out of your sweatshirt pocket it was actually who you wanted to hear from this time. You stood and went into the kitchen under the guise of retrieving more snacks to avoid your siblings’ wandering gazes. 

Don’t answer, bitch!!: how’s the parade this year? 

Of course she remembered you and your family always watched the Macy’s day parade together after brunch. And of course she opened with that. It was only the first day and it was getting harder and harder not to keep hating her. 

You: just as boring as it was last year 

You: how’s football? 

Paige immediately answers with a picture of Drew mid-griddy in their makeshift backyard end zone. You can’t help but smile at the sight of the kid in his happy place with his sister, half covered in mud. 

Don't answer, bitch!!: tied 108-108 

You: how long have you been playing? 

Don't answer, bitch!!: both too long and yet still not long enough 

You: typical

Don't answer, bitch!!: so Friday, I’ll pick you up at 10:15 if that’s chill 

You: sure 

You: are you going to tell me what we’re doing?

Don't answer, bitch!!: no

Don't answer, bitch!!: dress casual, don’t eat breakfast

You wait for another text but none comes. You simply like the message and slip your phone back into your pocket, trying to return your attention to the parade. It’s practically the same every year, but your parents still insist you watch the whole thing as a family each time. Some traditions never die, you guess. 

On Friday morning, instead of the typical Paige pull into the driveway and honk pickup method, you’re actually greeted by her ringing your doorbell. You open the door to find her version of “dress casual” as camo cargo pants and a UConn bball hoodie. Yours was ripped jeans and a pink long sleeve, paired with a cutie vest you thrifted a few years ago. 

You walk the six strides to her car in silence before Paige tries to open the door for you. You place your hand over hers and shut it. 

“This isn’t a date, Bueckers.” You say. 

“I know.” She responds, a cheeky grin on her face. You don’t have the brain space to think about what that means right now. “What if I’m just trying to be nice?” 

“That ship has sailed for us.” 

“Aight then” She says and goes around to the drivers side, letting you get situated on your own. 

She starts to drive without putting anything in the maps, but you quickly know you’re going to your favorite breakfast spot in town, which is right across the street from the infamous fro-yo place. 

The smell of pancakes and coffee overtakes you before you’re fully into the booth. Paige unsticks your menu from hers and passes it to you, and you thank her. 

“So are we going to talk or what?” You ask. 

She doesn’t look up from the menu. Instead she puts a finger to her lips and responds “Shhhh I’m thinking.” 

“Oh well if you’re thinking then I’ll be quiet, I know it’s hard for you.” 

“Hey!” She says looking up now, the same smile from when you were fifteen together on her face. 

From there the conversation progresses naturally, her telling you about the season that’s just starting and you recapping your own soccer season for her. She makes a funny retirement joke and you spend a few minutes laughing at how the orange juice almost flew out of your nose. Then the conversation moves on to classes and futures, whereas she still wants to play in the WNBA, and she asks if you still want to be a graphic designer. You follow up about Azzi and her friends, and tell her about your own adventures in the last year. It’s good times. It’s good. 

Since you’re both in agreement that it’s not a date, you split the bill and head across the street for frozen yogurt. You hip check each other out of the way so you can each get the toppings you want to the extent that you each want them, pushing each other back and forth between fits of giggles. This is what it was like, and you guess still is now, when you’re together. 

You easily let the giddy feeling overtake you, and willingly forget about all the reasons this could be bad, and all the reasons why you shouldn’t watch the way her hair falls over her hood, pushed back by the sunglasses on her head. Why you shouldn’t let your gaze linger on her when she has her back turned. Why you shouldn’t feel excited when you can tell she’s “secretly” watching you too. 

Back in the car you eat mostly in silence, except when she tries to take a bite of your yogurt from your bowl, attempting to dip her chocolatey spoon in your fruit-flavored concoction. You lean way out of the way and she follows, an almost messy impromptu game of half keep away half wrestling. There’s no giggles but only because you’re both so concentrated, and you each have a pretty big smile on your face. The magic is still there when you catch her eye.

Eventually she stops chasing after your bowl because you feed her a bite of your yogurt from your very own spoon. And you know what you want to happen next. 

Placing your bowl on the dashboard, you know you have her attention. She sets hers aside the same way. 

An inkling feeling tells you she won’t initiate it this time, because she’s “trying for longevity” or whatever. But the real tipping point is when you’re reminded of a late-night phone call admission, during an “on again” phase where she said she found it really hot when you were slightly more assertive. 

So, you take your index finger and hook it around the collar of her sweatshirt, pulling her by the place where the sides of the hood meet until you faces are very close together, yet still feel distances apart. Looking into her blue eyes, you can sense the question. What will this mean? What do you want? Does this mean today fixed a lot of things? Will it ever happen again? Is this the last chance? 

“Please?” You ask her, knowing she knows what you’re asking for. 

“Whatever you want, Ma.” She replies. And you don’t hate the nickname. Slowly, you pull her face closer to yours until your lips meet. It’s soft and warm and slightly sticky from your dessert. Slow at first but it turns faster, and suddenly she’s rubbing circles into your hip with her thumb and you’re doing that thing with your teeth you know she likes. It familiar like when you were in high school but also a million times better.

She lets out a soft “mh” and you break apart slowly, moving only far enough away that your foreheads aren’t touching by a gap the size of a sheet of paper. 

No questions anymore. It’s just eyes and a little happy exhale, shy smiles. You close your eyes, trying to cement the memory into your mind, just in case, and this time Paige is the one to kiss you. 

[onlymingyus]

What's your favorite scary movie?

pairing; vernon chwe x f reader

genre; horror, smut (minor dni), angst, toxic

summary; The summer after graduating high school is supposed to be one last hurrah before you and your friends head off to college---none of you expected it to become a horror movie.

content warnings; PLEASE READ ALL OF THE WARNINGS! 90s au, multiple murders, police, alluding to self harm, drugs/alcohol (mentioned and usage), overdose, knives, blood -- detailed scenes of harm/murder, funeral/memorials, fighting, bullying/harassment, degrading names, "slut" shaming, mild alluding to sexual assault (past/present), self confidence/esteem issues, depression, alludes to other behavioral/mental problems being present, crying, stalking/spying, obsession, yandere!vernon. all main characters are adults -- just graduated high school (vernon & other svt cameos have been aged down). the reader has a classic small town suburbs nuclear family (mentions parents obviously), vernon's "mother" briefly mentioned. this fic is full of really horrible people.

smut warnings; virgin!reader, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), quick handjob, crying (pleasure), corruption/innocence kink, petnames, praise, pulling out, cum on skin -- aftercare, brief post-sex dysphoria.

w/c; 30k and some change  (870 extra words for patreon bonus) 

a/n; thank you to @junkissed for proofreading for me and giving me strength to push through and finish this despite all the shit that kept trying to knock me down. this fic is a lot, so please if you have made it this far in my notes make sure you read all the warnings -- keep in mind this is my halloween fic, so i didn't hold back. dark au mars is back strong.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

Trailing behind your friends, you laugh when your best friend Caitlin pulls at your arm, urging you towards the front of the group. “Y/N!” You roll your eyes as she whines your name, extending the last of it dramatically before laying her head on your shoulder and putting her arm through yours. “Can I sit between you and Christen this time? This movie is supposed to be hella scary.” 

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

You liked your friends but they could be a bit much. You had known Caitlin the longest. The two of you had been friends since middle school and she was the person you could rely on the most, but that all changed when the two of you went to high school and your bodies and personalities started to change. Boys started to pay attention to you more and Caitlin’s personality soured. 

Christen wasn’t the type of person that you ever saw yourself being friends with before. He was the most popular guy at school and the captain of the football team, but none of those things mattered anymore. After graduation this year, you thought all of those trivial things would fall by the wayside, that your friends would start acting a bit less like they were still in high school and yet it was like they never left. 

“Caitlin wants to sit between us for the movie. It’s supposed to be really scary. I don’t min—” 

“You know I like the end seat.” 

Furrowing your brows, you start to speak up again when Christen sighs and puts his hand around your waist, pulling you from Caitlin and causing the girl to scowl at you. “I like the end seat and you always have to piss like five times during a movie. Let’s keep the seats like we always do. That okay with you, Cat?” 

Staring at Christen, Caitlin wants to be mad and tell him no, but the moment he calls her by the nickname he had given her, she swoons and just nods. “Uh huh… sure, Christen.” 

“See.” Turning his attention back to you, Christen winks. “It’s all good, baby. Now, put a smile on that face; don’t be a buzzkill. If you get scared, you can just hold on to me.” Tugging you closer, he grins before finally letting you walk on your own. 

From the time that you had met him your sophomore year, Christen had never been shy about how he felt about you. You wouldn’t call it a crush. A crush was something sweet and something that, if you didn’t reciprocate, the other person might move on. What Christen felt for you was possessive and like you owed him something. You were like a target or an end prize and he hadn’t won just yet, but to him there were still plenty of levels left in the game. 

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you glance back at Caitlin as she scoffs at her "boyfriend,” Jae. You felt bad for him. It was so obvious how much he liked Caitlin. He would follow behind her like a puppy, buy her anything she wanted, and be at her beck and call even when she was drooling over another guy. You had watched as Caitlin had belittled Jae in front of others and refused to call him her boyfriend but then gotten angry if he didn’t refer to her as his girlfriend. It was a complicated situation that you honestly didn’t understand. 

“Just… Stop touching me. Did you bring money for candy?” Caitlin’s voice is sharp, still irritated from the interaction with Christen and now Jae was walking too close to her. In her mind, she always got second best while you did nothing and got first pick. You didn’t even act like you wanted Christen; it was devastating. 

“Yeah, of course I did. You can get anything you want, babe.” Jae’s voice is a bit defeated, but at least he was going to be able to sit next to Caitlin. He had gotten nervous when she had asked to switch seats. It wasn’t like he could tell her where to sit... he wasn’t like that. She was a strong-willed girl; she always had been, but that was one of the things he loved about her. 

Making a face at Jae’s words, Caitlin steps forward and sighs dramatically, not hearing the way Alanna and Juwon copy her just a few steps behind her. They were the lucky two out of the friend group in their own personal opinions. They knew exactly where they fit in the hierarchy. 

There was the king, Christian, and his would-be queen if only you would accept his hand. The princess who wants to be queen, Caitlin, and her dog turned prince, Jae. Meanwhile, Alanna and Juwon belonged in the court together. They were happy to cheer each of you on and laugh when you failed. 

They had been dating since freshman year and a day hadn’t gone by that someone was complaining about seeing Juwon’s tongue down Alanna’s throat. Another strong opinion that the two shared was that if you didn’t want to see them making out, you could look in the other direction. 

“Babeeeee!” Alanna whines mocking Caitlin as she pulls on Juwon’s arm, causing the boy laugh as he looks at her fondly. “Buy me candy?” Batting her lashes, Alanna blows a kiss in his direction that Juwon pretends to catch before reaching into his pocket to take out his wallet, handing it to her. 

“My money is your money, princess.” Another wave of laughter erupts from the back of the group as Alanna pushes Juwon’s wallet back towards him. Now the two have caught the attention of everyone. 

“The hell are you two doing? Are you high?” Christen’s voice is stern, but the layer of his own amusement only serves to make Juwon laugh as he shakes his head and pulls Alanna forward towards the doors of the theater. 

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

Smiling, you lift your fingers to your lips to hide it as Alanna pokes at your side when she passes by you, giving you a wink. For all their heavy PDA and following the leader's behavior, you got along with them well. They had been nice to you, even when your best friend hadn’t. 

“Ugh, as if. You can’t think now, Juwon. This is why you two are going to a community college. You’ve fucking rotted your brains with weed. It’s gross.” Caitlin watches as Alanna throws up her middle finger before blowing her a kiss and disappearing behind the theater door. “It is gross. I’m right, aren’t I, Y/N?” 

You tilt your head and struggle with what to say as you all get closer to the doors that your friends had just gone through. “I—well. It’s their choice.” Feeling bad that you can’t just tell Caitlin to shut up and to leave Juwon and Alanna alone, you find yourself muttering as she scoffs, turning her attention to Jae for support who gives it willingly. 

Feeling the weight of having to agree with Caitlin off your shoulders, you unzip your bag, the air conditioner hits you like a breeze when Christen opens the doors and steps inside. You purse your lips and fish out a five-dollar bill, not paying attention to what’s in front of you until you hear Christen’s and another guy’s voice. 

“Wassup, man? Still manning this place like a fucking loser?” 

“Still making money, so yeah, if that’s what you wanna call it. Just one?” 

“Nah, two. Me and Y/N.” 

Furrowing your brows, you lift your money up to show it to Christen just as you see who’s behind the ticket counter. Vernon Chwe, another member of your graduating class. You didn’t know him well, but as often as you and your friends came to the movies, you saw him in passing. He was always nice to you, and he was easy on the eyes. 

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

You can see the irritation written on Vernon’s face, but he manages to keep his cool. He wasn’t like Christen or anyone else in your group. He didn’t hang out in the commons area or at the mall like you did. You knew that he worked here and that he had a cool car. You found him intriguing. 

Moving towards Christen quickly, you take the ticket and look at Vernon apologetically. “I’m sorry. That was so rude.” Looking up at your friend, you whine, “That wasn’t cool, Christen...” 

Instead of offering his own apology to Vernon, Christen just laughs and taps you on the tip of your nose. “Whatever, baby. Don’t get mad about it. I’m just playin’ with Vern. Come on. Let me buy you a snack.” 

Vernon watches as Christen tries to take your hand but you manage to keep it from him. Tilting his head, he finds it curious. He didn’t know if you were dating the guy or not, but he didn’t like him; he never had. 

“Um, excuse me... Dodgy, loser, man? I need two tickets.” 

Turning his attention back towards Caitlin, Vernon sighs and rips off two tickets before taking $10 from Jae. “Enjoy the movie.” The moment she is out of earshot, Vernon adds, “Bitch.” 

He could hear you and your friends at the concession stand. It wasn’t a busy night and the theater wasn’t running a full staff. If it had been any other group, Vernon might have put a bit more pep in his step, making his way over from the counter, but he could already hear the bitchy girl complaining, so he took his time. 

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

Muttering for Caitlin to hush, you rub your neck as Vernon sighs and moves to the middle of the concession stand before lifting his hands. “What can I get for you guys?” He didn’t really care; well, maybe he cared what you wanted. You had been kind to him and it wasn’t the first time. Every time he had seen you here or run into you at school, you were nice. You were also gorgeous, so that didn’t hurt your case either. 

“Two large cokes, a medium popcorn, and some M&Ms. Also, could you like... not take all night? The movie is supposed to start in thirty minutes.” Leaning on the counter, Caitlin watches as Vernon shifts his head to the side slightly before grabbing two large cups and filling them with ice. She remembered him from school and the other times they had been here. He was weird. She had a few classes with him and he had always sat in the back and avoided talking to people except when he had to. 

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

Taken aback by Caitlin’s question, you look from her back towards the counter before tilting your head. “I—yeah? What about it?” This was the type of thing that you hated about your friends. They lived in the past; every day was still a day of the glory of high school, whereas you were ready to move on. 

“This dude was in that class. We had that stupid ass icebreaker, remember? Like a weird fact about us? He said he was allergic to peanuts.” Cailtin snorts into a laugh as she meets Vernon’s eyes, his brow lifting to her memory. 

“Well—I, I remember—” 

“Man, that must fuckin’ suck. Can you eat anything? What happens if you eat a peanut? Would you die? Swell up like a fatass.” 

Juwon had been doing so well until that moment, but he was good at following the leader and at that moment Caitlin was playing her best queen bully bee role. Beside you, Christen laughs under his breath before leaning on the counter as Vernon tries to ignore them, fixing the rest of the order before giving the total to Jae, who slides over the money. 

“Anyone else want anything? I’d hate for you to miss the previews because you’re being assholes.” 

Surprised by Vernon’s words, the laughter dies off. No smiles are left except a slight one on your face. 

Christen doesn’t say anything before he reaches over to take a box of milk duds from the display showing them to Vernon and tossing a dollar bill on to the counter. “Thanks for nothing, bitch.” 

You try to stay; you want to apologize to Vernon for your friends one more time, but Christen’s hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you forward hard. “Let’s go, Y/N. You can share a drink with Caitlin. She didn’t need a fucking large anyway.” 

The movie theater didn’t have many others besides your group. After a few stragglers made their way in finding a seat, you tried to settle into your own and focus on the screen. You weren’t the biggest fan of scary movies, but there wasn’t much to do on a Thursday and you had already spent too many days staring at the same stores at the mall. 

When the lights go off completely and the screen lights up, you find yourself trying to make yourself smaller in your seat to keep your leg away from Christen’s hand when he stretches his fingers and smirks over at you. “Chill, are you scared already? It’s just the previews, baby.” 

You wished that you had the guts to tell him to stop calling you baby and that you weren’t scared. You just wished that he’d keep his fingers away from the end of your shorts. Shaking your head, you offer him a strained smile as you lean towards Caitlin, taking a few M&Ms she offers you before eating one of them. “Not scared, just a little cold.” 

“You want my jacket?” 

God, you couldn’t win, but maybe that would keep his hands off your skin. Nodding, you watch Christen stand up despite the groans from those behind you. Taking the jacket, you lay it over your legs and smile a bit wider at him. “Thanks, Christen.” 

Now Caitlin was regretting sharing anything with you. Tilting the box of candy away from you as she watches you tuck the jacket around your legs, Caitlin scoffs and takes a long sip of her drink. 

By the end of the movie, you find that you don’t have that much to be worried about. It wasn’t as much of a scary movie as you thought it would have been. The acting wasn’t great and the story had been predictable. You seemed to be the only one who seemed to think that way as the rest of your friends loudly discussed how good it was as you all moved through the theater lobby. 

Taking up the rear, you hold Christen’s jacket in your arms, waiting for the right moment to give it back to him until you see Vernon sweeping some popcorn off the floor near the concession stand. Maybe you could get in that apology now. Watching your friends for a moment longer, you let them keep going as you hang back and head in Vernon’s direction. 

“Hey… Vernon?” 

Furrowing his brows, Vernon lifts his head, sighing when he sees you standing in front of him. He hadn’t expected that, especially seeing you alone. Glancing around for your entourage, he’s surprised to see them closer to the front doors instead of right on your heels. “Yeah, what’s up? How was the movie?” 

Opening your mouth, you close it quickly, not sure how to answer him at first, but you shift on your feet and smile at him. “It was—it was okay. I mean, I think everyone could guess what they did last summer by how guilty they were acting.” Shaking your head, you sigh and glance down at your hands, gripping the jacket tighter in your hands. You weren’t sure why Vernon made you so nervous, his gaze making your cheeks heat up with how his smirk pulled up at the corner of his lips. 

“Yeah, not my favorite either, honestly.” Lowering his eyes to the jacket in your hands, Vernon takes a breath and shakes his head. He wasn’t an idiot; he had seen that jacket on Prince Charming—Christen, before the movie. “Did you need something, Y/N?” 

You weren’t sure that Vernon even knew your name so hearing him say it startles you, but of course he did. You had graduated together and probably had several classes together. It was silly of you to think he didn’t know your name; even Christen had said it before the movie. Maybe it was more that Vernon was saying it. Why did it matter? 

“Oh, no. Sorry, I know you are busy. I just—my friends, I’m so sorry. They aren’t always shitty.” Even you knew that was a lie, but that was what you did. You made excuses for them. You could see that Vernon knew it was a lie too, as he smiles and nods along with your words. 

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

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” Christen’s voice startles you with how close it is. Vernon watches how your body jerks in surprise and he furrows his brows, feeling a pang of anger taking over him at how someone could scare you so easily. 

“I—I was coming. I just—” You weren’t sure what to say to Christen, especially when you meet his eyes and see him glare at Vernon. You had made it worse. Turning towards your friend, you sigh and laugh but even you can tell it’s fake. “Let’s go. We were going to get froyo, right?” 

“What the fuck were you saying to her, freak?” Christen was fuming that you were talking to Vernon, but what pissed him off even more was that Vernon had been smiling at you. You had gone over to him by yourself and it looked like some loser was flirting with you. That wouldn’t happen, not while he was breathing. 

Pushing at Christen’s chest, you whine his name before glancing over at Vernon apologetically as he shakes his head and leans on his broom. How wasn’t he afraid of Christen? You were friends with Christen and you were afraid of him at times. 

The damage was done; the rest of your friends had made their way back over the concession stand, where the tension was growing thicker. Caitlin looked equal parts disgusted and amused as she watched Christen yell at Vernon. Jae stood behind her, confused look on his face as if he didn’t know if he wanted to be there or if he had to be there, and Alanna and Juwon were already laughing. That’s what they always did. They wanted to see a fight; that would be better than the movie to them. Meanwhile, you were horrified at the idea. 

“Please, can we just go?” Your voice is strained as you push at Christen, unable to get him to budge. 

His hand moves to grip your forearm, causing you to hiss in pain as he pulls you from in front of him and towards Caitlin, who wraps her arm around your waist, holding you closer to her and Jae. “I’m not leaving until I wipe this stupid smile off this freak’s face. I don’t like how he looks at you, Y/N. He’s a perv.” 

Nodding along with his words, Caitlin hums against your hair as she keeps you close to her even as you groan in annoyance. “Totally, he was staring at her the entire time. Made me wanna hurl. Like, seriously, loser? You think you can look at my best friend and it’s okay?” 

Now you were her best friend and she was protective of you? Only when she could make someone else miserable or make you miserable while doing it. Pulling from Cailtin, you tug on Christen’s shirt and beg for him to leave with you. “Please, can we go? You promised to buy me a snack and to get me home early.” Avoiding Vernon’s eyes as he grips his broom a bit tighter, his jaw clenched, you tug harder on Christen’s shirt. 

Smirking at Vernon, Christen takes a step back, putting up his hands as if he’s being the bigger man. He moves towards you and Cailtin so he can wrap his arm around you and this time you let him. Vernon can see the discomfort in your eyes, his brows furrowing slightly, but what you are doing seems to work as Christen takes his jacket from you and sighs happily as if he’s won the girl, leading you out of the theater. 

“You owe Vernon a night off.” 

Wen Junhui looked bored as he watched Lee Chan leaning far too close to the television in front of him as he gripped the Sega controller in his hands. Vernon just sighs and shakes his head, dismissing his friend’s comment. He knew what Jun was getting at, but he wasn’t worried about it. 

“I can work next week if you want me too.” Chan, or as he preferred to be called, Dino winces as his pixelated character is killed, taking him back to the beginning of the level. “What day were you thinking? I have an English paper due like Wednesday, so... if it could be after that—” 

“It’s fine, dude. You don’t have to worry about it.” 

“The fuck he doesn’t. Why didn’t you tell me those assholes were giving you so much shit, huh?” Jun knew that Vernon didn’t want to talk about what had happened at work, but he was getting tired of seeing his friend let people walk all over him because he was too nice. “Every single one of them is sketchy and I’m tempted to ask Seungcheol to get them banned.” 

Now Dino was paying attention, the controller was back on the table and the game paused, letting the menu music play on repeat as he listened to his friends. Jun was pissed and Vernon looked as calm as always until Jun implicated everyone. That caused him to sit up and shake his head as he reached for one of the cheap beers the three had been sharing over the past week. 

“Not all of them are assholes, alright? And I have it handled. I’m not fucking worried about Christen, his big ass ego or his little followers.” 

Vernon had said it himself, Christen’s little followers. To Jun, that was all of them, and Vernon wasn’t changing his mind any time soon. “Yeah, whatever. Next time they come in and pull something, come get me from the box. Don’t just let them push you around. I don’t care if you think that one chick is hot or not. She’s still his bitc—” 

“Hey!” There were very few times that Vernon raised his voice at either of his friends, so when he did it made the air in the room shift. “Just… Shut your damn mouth about her. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. Y/N… She was trying to apologize for the rest of them and then Christen—you know what? It doesn’t matter. Here.” 

Pushing the can towards Dino, Vernon stands when the youngest of their group takes the beer and puts it on the table, watching him pull on his leather jacket. Jun shakes his head and lets out a long sigh when Vernon picks up the keys to his car and searches for his beanie. 

“I didn’t mean to piss you off. I didn’t—look alright? Vernon, I didn’t know all of that. Ya, know, what Y/N did? I’m sorry I started to call her his bitch. I’m just… I’m done with them messing with you.” 

Pulling his black beanie over his hair, Vernon shrugs and shoves his keys into his jacket. “It’s fine. I’m not pissed; I’m just tired. I’m gonna get home; I’ll see y’all later.” 

Watching Vernon walk out of the room, Jun rubs the back of his neck, feeling a bit of regret wash over him. He knew he had pushed a bit too hard but Vernon had been acting off for months. He had known him since they were freshmen and neither of them had ever fit in, but they found their own way together. It was just lately Vernon was different; Jun felt like he didn’t know the person he called his best friend. 

Gripping the wheel of his 1989 Chevy Beretta, Vernon sighs as he leans his head back against the headrest hard. It was starting to get late, but he couldn’t seem to get himself to go home. Instead he kept turning on to familiar roads, his eyes scanning the houses. 

Vernon knew where he was. This was your street. The house on the right was yours, and the window with the light on, second floor… that was your room. Slowing down to a crawl, Vernon swallows hard as he leans to look at the curtains covering your window. He wished they weren’t there, as bad as that was. Sometimes he wished he could just get one glimpse of you instead of a shadow of you crossing in front of them, but he would take what he could get. 

Sighing loudly, Vernon pushes his foot down on the gas and takes a right, leaving your house behind. Tapping his thumb on his steering wheel, a smirk pulls at his lips as he eases by Caitlin’s house. He supposed this was why the two of you became friends. It was more a friendship of convenience living a street over from your best friend. Christen, however, didn’t live on the street. 

In fact, Vernon knew that Christen lived at least a fifteen-minute drive away in a gated community. So why was his car parked outside of Caitlin’s house? Wasn’t this the same guy who was threatening Vernon for daring to look at you and acting like you were his property? 

Narrowing his eyes at the only window with a light still on, Vernon lifts his brow when he sees Christen pull Caitlin back against him. He was seeing a lot more of her than he ever wanted to. It wasn’t like Vernon was shocked to find out that Christen was sleeping with Caitlin. That made more sense than Caitlin dating Jae, but it didn’t seem like they were even trying to hide it. Not from Jae and not from you. Did either one of you know? Now he was curious. 

Ten minutes later, Vernon puts his car in park and purses his lips as he looks around the street. There weren’t many cars for this to be an uppity part of town. Turning his attention towards the house he had stopped in front of, he starts to think that no one is at home until he sees a light on the third floor. It seemed that the person he wanted to see might just be home after all. 

Shoving his keys into his pocket, Vernon sniffs hard, the colder night air biting at his nose as he makes his way to the front door of the nice house. Pressing the doorbell, he waits for a few moments until the door opens and Jae gives him a confused look, tilting his head. 

“Uh, hey?” Jae was surprised to see Vernon at his front door. That had been the very last person he expected to see, especially this late at night. He knew Vernon better than anyone else in his circle of friends, but he would never admit it to any of them. Before he had been brought into the inner circle, he had been in a similar situation to Vernon’s; the major difference had been that his family had money and he could—and did—use it to climb the ranks. “‘Sup?” 

Nodding his head in Jae’s direction, Vernon glances behind him, scanning for anyone in the house, but it all seems quiet. It appeared that Jae was the only one at home. That was good. It was better for what Vernon needed to tell him. “Hey, can I come in? I, uh…” Rubbing at the back of his neck, he tries to smile a bit, but it seems as forced as it is. “Just wanna talk to you about something.” 

Was this about what had happened at the theater? Jae’s stomach was in his throat. He didn’t really want to deal with this, but he did feel a little shitty about how that had all gone down. He could have reigned Caitlin in a bit more, but... even he knew he was lying to himself. “Uh, sure. Yeah, come in. My parents are out of town so I’m not really supposed to have people over but—” Sighing to himself at how stupid he sounds, Jae shakes his head and gestures at the stairs for Vernon to go up. “Whatever, we can talk in my room. I’m on the third floor; my doors open.” 

Lifting his brows, Vernon smirks a bit as he lowers his head and moves through the door towards the staircase. Jae sounded like a kid who was breaking his parent’s rules, not like a recent graduate who was going to some Ivy League school in the fall. Vernon knew he shouldn’t find that as amusing as he did, but it was fitting with how Jae treated everything else in his life—including his girlfriend. 

“Cool, nice fucking place, man.” Jogging up the stairs, Vernon barely gives the house a second glance as he makes his way to the third floor and turns towards the open door. The room was decorated just as he thought it might be and yet it was still shocking. 

The bed was made perfectly, books lined pristine shelves, and there were pictures of Caitlin everywhere. What was even more interesting was that there were only two pictures in the entire room that included Jae and Caitlin. This wasn’t a room; it was a shrine to Jae’s cheating, whore girlfriend. 

Watching Vernon look around his room, Jae finds himself feeling a bit embarrassed and overwhelmed at having another person in his space. He wasn’t even used to having Caitlin in his room often. She didn’t come over much and when she did, it was more of a rare treat for Jae. 

"I—uh, what did you need to talk to me about? Is this—look if this is about what was said at the theater—”

“Nah, man. It’s fine.” Shaking his head, Vernon keeps moving around the room, picking up a picture of Jae standing behind Caitlin as she smiles brightly. What he notices the most about the picture is how they aren’t touching, not even his hand on her arm. “She’s a handful, huh?” 

Tilting his head slightly before straightening it, Jae looks at the picture in Vernon’s hand before crossing his arms. Where was this going? He was feeling more and more uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by, and he was wondering if he should regret letting Vernon in his house. 

“I—she’s, sure. Sometimes. What’s this about? You said you wanted to talk about something.” 

Putting the picture down, Vernon makes sure it is in the same place as it was before he rests back against the desk, his hands next to him on either side. “Yeah. You know, it’s funny. I drove past Cailin's. I was just driving around... You know how it is.” Tilting his head, Vernon meets Jae’s eyes as he sighs. “Anyway, it was funny ‘cause Christen’s car was at her house. I thought that was weird until I happened to see them in her bedroom window.” 

Jae scoffs, starting to feel not only embarrassed but defensive of his girlfriend’s honor. What was Vernon doing looking in her bedroom window in the first place? Taking a step forward, he drops his hands, making them into fists at his sides. “Hey—” 

“Not like she has up curtains. I wasn’t tryin’ to see your girl like that, scouts honor, but needless to say…” Moving his hands from the desk, Vernon puts them at his chest, cupping them like he would a girl’s breasts to make sure Jae understands, seeing the boy’s face flush. “Christen is banging your chick, dude. Just thought you’d wanna know.” 

Taking a step forward, Jae stops and pushes his lips together, trying to think of what to say. It wasn’t like he didn’t know, but it was more the fact that Vernon was at his house and telling him about it. “Shut the hell up, you freak. First you spy on my girlfriend and then—then you come here to what? Try to—I don’t know what you want!” 

“I don’t want anything, Jae. I was trying to help your stupid ass out.” Vernon’s voice is angry, a layer of malice the moment that Jae has the audacity to call him a freak. Everyone else had, but not Jae. The more that Vernon looked at him, the less he felt bad for him. Maybe he never had, how could you? He was pathetic. His room was a fucking shrine to a girl who probably only let him fuck her with his fingers so she could sit on another guy's cock. God… It was sickening, and yet he was the freak. 

“I don’t need your fucking help! I want you out of my house.” As if realizing something—a metaphorical lightbulb coming on above his head—Jae moves towards Vernon, who shifts away from him, causing the two to move to opposite sides of the room. Jae stares at Vernon in front of the open bedroom door as he feels the breeze from the open window behind him as he glares at the other man with disdain. “How the hell do you know where I live anyway? You fuckin’ stalking all of us, freak?” 

Vernon was seeing red; his jaw clenched tightly, he rolled his neck as a smirk pulled at his lips. His eyes move from Jae to the window behind him and all he can imagine is watching Jae fall out of it. How easy it would be to push him through the window and then the motherfucker wouldn’t call him a freak again. Taking a step forward, Vernon scoffs before speaking, his words quiet. “About that...” 

His hands meet Jae’s chest hard, a surprised gasp slipping from the smaller boy’s lips as he tries to push back only to feel the desk beside him bite into his hip. The picture of him and Caitlin falls with a crash, glass shattering on to the floor, drawing Jae’s attention away from Vernon just enough long enough for Vernon to push him again, this time even harder. 

Vernon listens to the strangled scream that leaves Jae’s mouth as the screen tears from the weight of his body before he falls through the window and three stories down. The deafening dull thud of his body hitting the pavement sends a shiver through his body even before Vernon leans out of the broken window frame to look down and see the blood pooling around Jae’s lifeless body. 

In that moment, he knows he should feel bad. He should be scared. He should feel something other than a rush of adrenaline, but Vernon doesn’t. Looking around Jae’s room once more, Vernon moves back down the steps and out the front door, not giving the body another look. Getting behind the wheel of his car, he sighs to himself as he drives away, finally feeling like he can go home.

You wake up to the sound of the phone ringing from your desk. It sounds like a nightmare because surely no one is calling you this early. Even through your curtains, you can tell the sun has barely started to rise. 

Groaning, you sit up with a groan as the phone rings again. Whoever was trying to reach you wasn’t giving up. Sliding out of bed, you sink down into your desk chair and pull the phone from the base, putting it to your ear with a sharp, “Hello?” If that didn’t make whoever was calling you regret it, you didn’t know what else would.

“Y/N!” 

Caitlin’s sobbing voice makes your heart drop into your stomach immediately and you feel horrible for picking up the phone angry. Shifting in the chair, you switch which shoulder you rest the phone on, your fingers twisting into the already ruined phone cord as you anxiously furrow your brows, almost afraid to speak. “Wha—” 

“He’s dead, Y/N! What the fuck? Like, seriously?” Sniffing hard, Caitlin rubs hard at her nose as she lays in her bed, her own phone tucked between her ear and shoulder. “The police said it could be an accident or he might have...” 

You could hear the way her lips were quivering as Caitlin tried to speak, but you still weren’t sure who she was talking about. “Who, Caitlin?” 

“Oh, my god! Jae! Jae’s dead!” Caitlin’s voice is shrill, causing you to pull the receiver away from your ear slightly as you swallow hard the reality of her words hitting you. “Why are you making me say it out loud? It’s already so hella depressing. I’m like a widow; it’s gross.” 

Glancing towards your bedroom door, you try not to feel anything negative about your best friend while she’s grieving, but she was going about it in a strange way. You knew that she didn’t care about Jae, not in any way that she could claim widow-like status. She treated him like shit most of the time, but you weren’t going to say that to her now. You weren’t that type of person. You were the person who coddled. “I’m so sorry, Caitlin. Do you want me to come over?” 

Whining, she nods before pouting into her words, hoping to make you feel even worse for her. “Yeah, could you? That would totally help me feel less shitty.” Before you can even reply, a single breath of a word starts to leave your mouth. Caitlin speaks over you. “Oh, and Y/N? Could you bring me Taco Bell?” 

You lean your head back; the urge to roll your eyes is so strong but you keep it at bay as you nod to yourself. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be there in like an hour.” 

Hanging the phone up, you close your eyes, your brows knitting together tightly once you can hear yourself think. Jae was dead? How? Caitlin had mentioned an accident, but you didn’t have any other details. You knew he didn’t like to drive, maybe something with one of his parents cars... Not wanting to picture anymore gruesome things, you force yourself to stand and move to your closet to get dressed. 

Vernon tilts his head as he watches you cross your arms, your keys dangling from your fingers as you wait in line in front of him. You looked beautiful. It was rare that he saw you out like this on a normal day, but lucky for him, he had been craving some food, and tacos seemed like a good choice. 

Taking a step towards you, Vernon takes in a deep breath and just enjoys the overwhelming scent of your perfume and body wash. He wished he had more courage to speak to you, to let you know how much he was into you, but you were the sun and he was like a dark cloud. Least that’s how it felt... 

“Hey, uh…” 

Vernon sighs as he listens to you place your order, your voice like the sweetest song on the radio. He'd play your voice on repeat if he could. Getting lost in listening to you, Vernon doesn’t realize you are done with your order until the boy at the register lifts his brows and hands in question. “You wanna order something, dude?” 

“Uh… yeah.” 

You knew that voice. Turning towards the source of it as you reach to take the cups in front of you, you can’t help the small smile that lifts at your lips as you see Vernon. You hadn’t realized he was behind you. It kind of made you sad that he was and hadn’t said anything, but it made sense after what had happened at the theater. You couldn’t blame him for being upset with you. 

Meeting Vernon’s eyes, your smile brightens slightly before you look away and move out of his way so he can get a cup as you move to the drink machine to fill your drinks. You can feel Vernon’s eyes on you even as you move, your fingers pressing down the buttons. The heat of his eyes makes you feel shy and warm as you listen to him move closer to you until he finally stands next to you, filling his own cup with soda. 

“Weird seeing you alone.” 

Vernon watches your cheeks push up towards your eyes before you glance towards him when he does speak to you. You shrug and take a step backwards towards the lids and straws, taking two of each and letting Vernon move towards you to do the same. 

“I do things alone sometimes. It’s weird to see you somewhere besides the movie theater. I almost started to think you lived there.” Keeping your eyes on Vernon, you bite subtly at your bottom lip as you move towards the counter to pick up your bag of food just as they put Vernon’s next to yours. 

“Mm, that’s fair. I don’t do much besides that, but in my defense, you don’t really know me, so…” With his own food in his hand, Vernon grins at you and you feel your heart beat hard in your chest. You aren’t sure you have ever seen him smile like that and you aren’t sure anyone’s smile has ever effected you in that way before. 

Vernon watches you look away, one drink in the crook of your elbow as you hold the other so you can hold the bag of food in your other hand. Gesturing towards the door, he takes a breath, letting it out slowly as if he’s gaining courage before speaking to you again. “I can help; you seem like you have your hands full. You, uh… Lunch for your family or something?” 

He was sweet; this was the most you had probably ever really talked to Vernon and he was being a gentleman. It was nice not to have your friends hovering around you and being assholes to him. Letting him hold the door open for you while you maneuver through it, you glance back at him and shake your head, letting out a soft sigh. “No, I’m going over to Caitlin’s.” 

Vernon notices how your words seem to fade off at the end and how your smile dulls. Following you to your car wanting to help you, he furrows his brows as he offers to take the food from your hands as you unlock your car, seeming to struggle with your words. “She’s—it’s a hard day. You know Jae, right? One of my friends?” 

Of course he did, but Vernon keeps his cool and just shrugs his shoulders, letting you continue. “Uh, Caitlin’s boyfriend. The one who was following her around last time.” Getting a nod from Vernon, you lean in your car to put the drinks into the cup holders before taking your food from him. “I guess something happened last night—an accident. He passed away. She’s super upset. So I’m gonna go spend the day with her.” 

You were a good friend, better than Caitlin deserved in Vernon’s opinion. He knew for a fact that Caitlin didn’t give a shit about Jae and the fact that he was dead. She was using this for attention, but you were giving into it because you were sweet and that was all you knew how to do. If he had his way, he’d take you away from it and give you attention. Shaking his head, Vernon furrows his brows, leaning against your car door, giving you a solemn look. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help you?” 

It wasn’t lost on you that Vernon asked if he could help you and not Caitlin, but it still made your heart feel warm. He was such a good guy, so kind and soft. He didn’t deserve the treatment that the rest of your friends gave him. Shaking your head, you pout softly before letting it shift into a gentle smile. “No, I’m okay... I—this was really nice, Vernon. I like talking to you. Um…” 

Leaning into your car once again, you put the food down and reach into your purse as Vernon watches you carefully with a raised brow. He agreed, it was nice to talk to you. He was trying to be respectful, but you made it a bit difficult. Your shirt was riding up your back and you were so fucking pretty. He couldn’t help the way his eyes were moving along your skin as you searched for—

”Ah! I was looking for a pen. Can I give you my number? Maybe you could call me sometime.” 

You wanted him to call you? Vernon’s head was spinning. He must be in another dimension where he wasn’t a loser because you were looking at him expectantly as you held your cute purple pen. Nodding, Vernon smiles to one side, watching your smile grow in return as you reach for his hand, pulling it towards your stomach and turning his palm over. The pen tickles Vernon’s hand, but he can’t stop staring at your fingers and the way the pen glides over his skin as you put the numbers on his palm. 

“It’s my own line, so like, my family won’t pick it up. As long as I’m not using my computer, you can reach me there, okay?” Tilting your head, you trail your fingers from Vernon’s as his lips part with a soft breath. He was so handsome it was almost devastating to you. How had you never noticed him in school? You knew the answer to that, but you wished things had been different in that moment. 

“Yeah, I—sure. I’ll call you.” At least that’s what he was telling himself. Would he have the courage to actually do it? Vernon wasn’t sure in that moment, but he knew he wanted to. 

“Cool. Thanks for helping me get to my car, Vernon. I’ll talk to you later.” 

Standing there like an idiot for a moment longer, Vernon nods before taking a step back from your car as you slide behind the wheel, waving at him before backing out. Glancing down at his palm once more, he closes his fingers around your number and smiles to himself before turning on his heels towards his car with a bit more pep in his step. 

“I’m literally fucking starving. What took so long?” Taking the bags from your hand, Catiltin pouts at you as she sits with her legs crisscrossed in the center of her full-size bed.

You could tell she had been crying. Her eyes were a bit swollen, with slight circles under her eyes, but there was still something about the situation that made you fully aware that Caitlin wasn’t mourning Jae as much as she was her reputation. 

“I’m sorry, I got here as soon as I could. You know things are busier on Saturday.” Sliding on to the bed next to her, you furrow your brows before leaning in to hug Caitlin, feeling her shoulder’s drop. You were a good friend. Despite feeling and knowing what you did, you were still concerned about her. You hated that this had happened, and the truth of the matter was that you were sad. Jae was your friend. 

“Has—well… Did anyone say what happened?” 

Your voice is quiet and the question causes a new wave of tears to spill from Caitlin’s eyes as she chokes on her words, only managing to get out a couple before she’s cut off. 

“Splattered on the sidewalk under his window.” 

Horrified, you look over your shoulder towards the doorway where Christen leans against the frame. You didn’t even know he was there. Had he gotten to Caitlin’s before you? Just now? It didn’t matter, you supposed; you assumed everyone would end up here eventually. 

Your eyes follow Christen as he moves to the bed, taking the bag of tacos to take one for himself. You hadn’t bought them for him, but that had never mattered in the past and it doesn’t matter now. 

“You’re always so sweet, baby. Thinking ahead and getting lunch like this.” The bed dips at your side as Christen joins you both and Catiltin sniffles hard, getting the attention back on her as she opens her own food. 

“Could we like... I don’t know, not say splattered? It’s so gross, Christen.” 

Shrugging, the boy swallows a bite of food before sighing into his words. “Sorry, that’s what happens when you launch yourself out of a fuckin’ third-story window, babe.” 

Babe? Furrowing your brows, you let your eyes move from Caitlin to Christen as your best friend blanches slightly and puts her taco on the wrapper to the side. 

“He—that’s not what he did. The cops said it was an accident. He just fell somehow. Some freak accident—” 

“I’m sure it was an accident. Jae would never… you know.” Your voice is softer than Caitlin’s and Christen’s combined, but it manages to draw both of their attention to you. You couldn’t say what Christen thought happened; you couldn’t get that word out. Not just because it was too hard to even think, but also because it just didn’t make sense. Jae wasn’t depressed. He had a charmed life. 

“Sure, baby… But listen, you know Jake, the tight end?” Sighing softly, you tilt your head at Christen’s question. While you knew who he was talking about, you didn’t think it was important to label him as his position from the high school football team, but what was the point in arguing—so instead you just nodded. “Well, he’s lives across the street from Jae. Said the cops were out there all morning and he overheard one of them talking about some things that just didn’t add up with an accident—” 

“Christen! Do you, like, hate me? I’m a fucking widow now and you want people to think that my boyfriend killed—” Lowering her voice, Caitilin whines when Christen furrows his brows at her, only for them to soften when he sees the hurt in her eyes. “Just—this is scary, okay? What—did Jake say why they said that?” 

As much as you hated to admit it even to yourself, you were also curious as to what Jake had overheard. Shifting on the bed, you turn a bit more towards Christen, who straightens his back and lets a bit of a smirk pull at his lips, having so much attention focused on him. 

“Yeah, so just what he heard, okay? But he said Jae’s nails were fucked up and that there were scratches on his desk. Like, maybe he regretted it just before he—” Seeing the look on your face, Christen presses his lips together and tilts his head, changing his words. “Like he tried to stop himself from falling out the window. Oh, and uh...” Furrowing your brows, you see a nervous look spread across Christen’s face as he meets Caitlin’s eyes. “There was a broken picture or frame. Could’a been thrown on the floor.” 

“What picture?” Moving to sit on her feet, Caitlin’s eyes widen slightly, causing you to sit back a bit confused as she waits for Christen to explain. 

“I—he wasn’t sure. All the really said it was of a couple, but seeing as it was Jae’s room…” 

Even you didn’t need anymore explanation. You had never been in Jae’s room, but who else would be in the picture? Why would a picture of Jae and Caitlin be smashed? Your eyes move between your two friends as Caitlin falls back against the bed with a new wave of grief, as if she’s realized something. Christen, on the other hand, just sighs and reaches for your drink, taking a sip before meeting your eyes. 

“You look freaked, Y/N.” 

That was an understatement. Shaking your head, you rub your hands over your arms before scooting closer to Caitlin to rest your hand on her thigh, letting her know you were still close to her as she cries. “I’m just—this is really sad. It doesn’t make sense, and he was so excited about starting university. I feel really bad for his parents.” 

Nodding along with your words, Christen leans to put your drink on the nightstand before leaning back on the bed, letting his hand rest near your leg. “It fuckin’ sucks. I mean… It’s fucked up. Like the weak ones, man. Why do they gotta die before they get the chance to make something of themselves?” 

You stare at Christen as he speaks; his words are almost said as if he’s quoting something poetic or profound, though to you it’s heartless and ridiculous. 

Leaning against the end of his bed, Vernon runs his fingers over the fading numbers written on his palm. Hours had passed, the sun had gone down, and now the only thing left to remind him that he had actually seen you today was slowly dissolving into his skin. 

Jun and Dino were occupying the beanbag chairs in front of the TV as some movie played, something that Vernon had seen a hundred times. He knew he should be paying more attention to his friends, but instead he was trying to commit your phone number to memory. 

“During the matinee today.” 

“For real? Cops? What did they say?” 

Vernon’s brows lift, realizing he hadn’t been even listening to the conversation until cops were mentioned. Shifting on the floor, he sighs and lifts his eyes to watch Dino pass the bowl of popcorn over to Jun as he shrugs. 

“Were asking questions about that guy you all graduated with? I don’t remember his last name, uh—Jae, that’s his first name. He said he had a movie ticket in his pocket or something. Not sure why it mattered. They just—” 

“They what?” 

Vernon had been so quiet over the past hour that both of the boys had almost forgotten whose room they were in and that he was even there until he spoke up. Glancing back at him, Dino shakes his head and shifts in the chair, almost uncomfortable under Vernon’s gaze. Vernon could be intense sometimes; Jun might not notice it, but Dino always did. 

“Nothin’ really. Asked if he seemed like himself when he came by. I told them I didn’t know him that well and that I had been off that night. They said they would probably stop by and talk to you tomorrow. Is—why? That not okay?” 

Moving to his feet, Vernon shakes his head and shrugs. He didn’t like the idea of talking to the cops, but it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. “It’s whatever. I didn’t know him either.” 

“That’s not true.” Shooting a look back at Jun as he speaks, Vernon scoffs even as Jun lifts his hands and sighs into his words. “I mean—not like you were friends with him, but you knew him a bit.” 

“Whatever, I didn’t hang out with him. I had a class or two with him and he came into the theater. Didn’t make me his best friend, Jun. Why the fuck does it matter anyway?” 

Jun furrows his brows and shakes his head. He watches Vernon reach for a pen, looking at his hand as he transfers something from it to a piece of paper, then tossing it on the desk. “I–well… It doesn’t, but you might have noticed if he was acting out of his head maybe. People are saying he fell out of his window, or—you know. Maybe he wanted to fall out of it.” 

Scoffing, Vernon turns to lean against his desk, an uncaring look on his face. “I mean, wouldn’t you if your chick was a lying whore? Not sure he ever acted like he knew what he was doing from the moment he started dating that girl. It was like putting one foot on a banana peel and his neck in a noos—” 

“Jesus Christ, Vernon.” Shivering, Jun cuts Vernon’s words off before he’s able to finish. He had heard Vernon be callous before. He had seen him uncaring and perhaps act like a dick, but never like this. “It was an accident. It’s tragic…” 

Nodding slowly, Vernon sighs as he tries to remember what he’s supposed to feel in a moment like this. He can see the look on Jun’s face—something akin to sadness. Dino, on the other hand, looked a little sick, horrified as he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to be smaller. 

“Yeah, it’s sad; you’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s up with me. I’m just tired or something.” Shaking his head, Vernon moves back towards his friends, lowering himself back to the floor and offering them a smile that seems to soothe them both. “I saw Y/N earlier today; she seemed to be kinda tore up about it too. She was going over to—uh, Cailtin’s. She’s a good friend.” Gritting his teeth slightly, Vernon forces himself to say her name instead of anything else out of respect for you. In his head, Caitilin didn’t deserve anything but what she was going through. 

Tilting his head slightly, Jun watches Vernon talk about you. There was a stark difference in how he mentioned you compared to anyone else. While he knew that Vernon had a crush on you, if he was talking to you, maybe he was wanting more. More could be dangerous. 

“You saw her? Where? Was she alone?” 

Vernon knew why there was a barrage of questions, but it only served to annoy him. Leaning his head back, he sighs and nods along with each one. “Yes. Taco Bell. She was alone. Why the fuck does it matter?” 

“Because, Vernon. She's—look, I get it. She’s cute as fuck. She’s nice, but he’s got his claws in her. He’ll kill you if you try anything. Some ass isn’t worth it. I don’t care if the ass is prime—” 

Glaring at Jun, Vernon bites at his cheek until he snaps. “Why do you talk about her like that? Do you even know her? Have you spoken a single word to her?” Shaking his head, Vernon rubs hard at the numbers on his palm now. “Of course you haven’t because you are too fuckin’ judgmental and too chicken shit. Just think that because she’s standing next to Christen, she’s just like him. Well, newsfuckin’ flash, Junhui, you aren’t the genius you make yourself out to be.” 

Dino had been quiet—he always was, but he hated the tension and arguing between his friends. No one was worth putting a wedge between his best friends, especially some girl. “Hey! Stop it. Why are you two always doing this now? Every fucking week!” Staring up at Dino, Vernon swallows hard as the youngest stands up and points from Jun to him. “If he likes his girl, so what? Lay off! And you…” 

Swallowing hard, Dino falters for a moment as he meets Vernon’s eyes. It takes a deep breath to calm down before he can round his shoulders and speak up to Vernon. “Jun is your best friend and you’ve never been such an asshole before. If you need to get your dick wet, do it. If you need to get high or drunk, please... Just do it before you say something you can’t take back.” 

Vernon stared at his television for a long time after his friends had left, thinking about what Dino had said. To be a year younger than him, the boy was wise beyond his years and he had a point. He knew that he was wound up and he had been taking it out on Jun in particular for weeks. 

There had been some relief when Vernon had left Jae’s, but then he would be reminded about Christen and his bullshit and be right back where he had started. The anger was building until he felt like he might just snap. 

Glancing towards his desk, Vernon lifts his brow, seeing the piece of paper with your phone number written on it. It wasn’t incredibly late, but it was the weekend. There was a good chance you were still at Cailtin’s or worse... You could be out with the rest of them doing something, trying to take your minds off of Jae—but Vernon still wanted to try. 

Pulling the phone from the desk along with the piece of paper, Vernon sighs as he leans back against the side of his bed. He rests the receiver between his shoulder and ear before carefully dialing your number and waiting. You had said it was your own line, and somehow that didn’t stop Vernon from letting Jun’s words get the better of him for just a single moment. What if you gave him a fake number? What if Christen picked up? But neither of those things happened. 

“Hello?” 

Your voice is beautiful, a bit sad, and confused. Vernon has to take a deep breath to stop himself from hanging up the phone when you furrow your brows and listen to the sound of breathing on the other line. Clearly someone was there; it wouldn’t be the first time you had gotten a crank call, but today really wasn’t the day for it. 

“Hello? Look, seriously… I’m not in the mood—” 

“Y/N… Sorry, it’s me, Vernon.” Wincing to his own voice, Vernon pulls on the phone cord in his lap and weighs his regret as he listens to you take a deep breath in response. You had hoped that Vernon would call you, but you hadn’t expected it. He seemed so different from you and the rest of your friends that he was almost like a life preserver at the moment. 

“I—oh… Hey. I—I’m glad you called. I’m a little surprised.” Closing your eyes for a moment, you lean your head back, trying to think of how to salvage your conversation, thinking you might have ruined it before it started. “I promise I don’t always sound like a bitch when I answer the phone.” 

Vernon’s laugh brings a much-needed smile to your face and warmth to your chest. Shaking his head, he tries to picture you in a room he’s never seen besides a light behind a curtain. “You didn’t sound like a bitch. I—I didn’t exactly start speaking so I get why you said what you did. I’m not really like, you know, a great conversationalist.” 

And yet he had called you anyway. That wasn’t lost on you as you stood up from your desk and worked the cord for your phone around it so you could sit on your bed. Vernon listens to the sounds of you moving in your room and it brings a slight smile to his face. “How are you, by the way? You said you were going over to your friend’s house.” 

He remembered. Leaning your head back against your headboard, you bite your bottom lip and nod. “Yeah, I spent most of the day at Cailtin’s. It was honestly exhausting.” Sighing, you close your eyes, realizing how bad your words sound, causing you to shake your head. “But—I… You know, I’ll do it anytime. She’s going through a ton right now. I’m—” 

“Y/N… I didn’t ask about her. Sorry, that sounds really shitty, but I’d rather talk about you.” Vernon didn’t want to cut you off, but he couldn’t stand that you were spiraling because you felt bad for Caitlin. In his opinion, she didn’t deserve anything, much less you in her life. You were far too good for her, not that he could just say that out loud to you now. “Don’t get me wrong; it’s really nice of you to do what you did. Is it cool if we just talk about you?” 

That was almost a terrifying prospect—someone wanting to focus on just you. Christen did it in his own way, but it always led back to him. There was always an ulterior motive, and yet it didn’t seem like Vernon had one. Shifting on your bed, you rest the cradle to your phone next to you as you pull your knees towards your stomach. 

“Sorry, yeah… Yeah, we can do that, but only if we talk about you too. Is that okay?” 

You were apologizing again. That seemed to be something you did a lot and usually not for yourself. Shaking his head, Vernon smiles into a sigh before lifting his brows. “Yeah, that’s okay. I—I kinda wanna get to know you. God, that sounds so fuckin’ lame.” 

Warmth spreads along your cheeks at Vernon’s words and you are happy he’s just on the phone and not in front of you. Pressing your lips together, you swallow hard and bury a bit of a happy sound as you pull the phone from your ear briefly before calming yourself down and clearing your throat. “It’s not lame. Why would that be lame? I mean, I wanna get to know you too. I gave you my number for a reason... Like, obviously.” 

Listening to how your voice trails off with a bit of shyness to it, Vernon can’t help the grin that pulls at his lips. There was no way you were actually into him the way he was into you. You probably just wanted to be his friend, and if that was the case, he’d have to deal... But the tone of your voice—the cute little giggle to it—made his stomach tighten with intrigue. 

“Oh—oh, yeah?” Clearing his throat, Vernon lifts his hand to rub at his neck, feeling how hot it is under his touch. He knew if he were to look in the mirror, it would be red along with his ears. There would be no way he would have called you with Jun and Dino in the room; if he was this shy and embarrassed alone, he would have died in front of them. “Wha—what’s the reason?” 

Despite being new adults, fresh into the world, there was still a layer of that schoolgirl and boy whimsy layered in the conversation that made you kick your feet when Vernon stumbled over his questions. You had a feeling he knew the answers to his questions, but he was just wanting to hear them out loud. The real question was, would you be able to say it out loud? 

Whining Vernon’s name softly, you wrap your phone cord around your fingers and laugh under your breath, almost in disbelief. The sound of his smooth but shy laugh makes your stomach twist with that nervous new crush feeling and you feel almost like you could float off your bed. “I don’t know; it’s hard to say it out loud. You know what I mean... Don’t you?” 

Pulling his beanie from his hair, Vernon rakes his fingers through his hair and scoffs into a laugh as you dodge his question. You were being so cute and coy that it was driving him crazy. Sure, he had dated in high school. He had crushes, but none of them quite stood the test of time like this one. 

“Think I’d just rather hear it. This isn’t a conversation I’ve ever had before, Y/N.” Dropping the beanie on to the floor next to him, he bites at his lip and tilts his head, looking at the wall almost too intently as if it will give him the right words. “I—I mean, you know who I am. Let’s be honest, I’m not—I mean, fuck. I’m not Christen—” 

“Stop it. I don’t like Christen. I think—I mean, I thought that was obvious, at least to you. He—” Furrowing your brows as you speak over Vernon, cutting him off, you bite at your cheek, feeling the frustration rising in your chest. “He honestly makes me really...” 

Hearing how you seem unable to say the words, Vernon chews at his lips, feeling bad for bringing the other man up. It hadn’t been his intention to upset you, but he did feel inferior when it came to Christen in some ways, especially you. Now he wasn’t sure he should. Now Vernon could feel the same anger from before threatening to rise up as he taps his fingers against his leg and fills in the word for you. “Uncomfortable?” 

Nodding, you sniff back your emotions and sit up a bit on your bed, as if talking about Christen will make him manifest in front of you like a demon. “Yeah, so you not being him is a good thing.” Wanting to get the conversation off of Christen, you take a deep breath and shake your head as if clearing the fog from it before speaking again. “‘Sides, I do kinda know who you are; that’s why I—you know... It’s why I like you, Vernon.” 

Your words make Vernon feel like he’s stuck in a wind tunnel. He hears them, and yet they don’t seem real. “Me?” 

Laughing under your breath, you nod at his question as your brows knit together. There was no one else you were talking to and you had used his first name. “I—yeah. I mean, you know… If you don’t like me, that’s totally—” 

“Oh, my god... I do. I just—I’m a loser and I can’t even remember what else your friends called me.” 

“I don’t care what they think. I mean, I care what they say, and they are so fucking wrong.” You weren’t sure why it was so hard for Vernon to understand that you liked him, and while you were glad that he liked you back, it was difficult to hear him call himself a loser. That wasn’t how you saw him. You hated hearing your friends call anyone that, but especially Vernon. “I know I make a lot of excuses for them, but the things they said the other night... I really am so, so sorry. That was my fault.” 

Pushing his tongue against his cheek, Vernon lets out a breath as you once again apologize for your friends. It’s even worse when you take the blame for something that isn’t your responsibility. “Y/N, wh—no. I don’t blame you. Nothing that happened was your fault. Christen could have threw a punch at me and it still wouldn’t have been anything that you could have started or stopped.” 

The idea of Christen hurting Vernon makes your skin crawl. You knew that Christen was just waiting for the opportunity and what you were doing right now... Pursuing something with Vernon would only make it worse. Frowning a bit to yourself, you stretch the phone cord between your fingers and Vernon seems to notice how quiet you’ve become, your soft breath on the other side of the line being the only thing that lets him know you’re still there. 

“You thinkin’ hard about something? Wanna let me in on it?” Smiling a bit, Vernon shifts his legs, pulling his knees up a bit so he can rest his forearms on them as he leans his head back against his bed. “Or did you fall asleep?” 

“No—no, I’m here. I just—I know you said none of that was my fault, but it feels like it.” You can hear Vernon start to speak and you know he’s going to argue your point, but still having more to say, you keep going before he can. “It’s just—Christen, he’s like weirdly been obsessed with me for a while, right? He's just my friend, but it’s like I can’t get him to see that. It makes it hard to date, well, like anyone. I—” Laughing under your breath, it’s clear there is no humor to it as you roll your eyes. “Like I haven’t even had a boyfriend or been on a date since freshman year.” 

Letting your words sink in, Vernon tries to think about high school and when he first noticed you. It hadn’t been hard. You were beautiful from the first day, but he hadn’t been the only one who had noticed how much you changed over summer and that was when Christen had laid his claim. No wonder you hadn’t dated. Vernon could imagine that any guy that tried to get close to you was either scared away or knew you were off the table—even if you weren’t. 

“So… I’m just saying that because if this goes anywhere, and I’m not saying it has to... Christen might freak the fuck out. He already got mad that you were talking to me.” Your voice is sad and quiet. You sound repressed like you had at the theater, and it bites at Vernon, making him almost feel antsy in his room. He wants to get up and fix it for you; change your situation so that you don’t have to feel so small...

“I don’t give a fuck what he thinks, Y/N. I’m not afraid of him. All I care about is what you think and want.” Vernon presses his thumbnail into the tip of his pinky hard enough to leave a divot as he grits his teeth. He had to calm down; you weren’t his—not yet. Christen had already done enough damage by laying a freaky claim to you; Vernon was determined not to make you feel worse by doing the same. “I’ll only do what you want. Like I told you, I like you.” 

Unable to stop the smile from spreading on your lips, you bite at your lower lip and glance towards your window as the curtain moves with the wind. There was a huge difference in how Christen and Vernon made you feel. Christen terrified you and made you feel trapped in a box. Vernon, he made you feel almost free and desired. It was almost a bit dangerous the way you enjoyed that feeling, along with the smooth sound of his voice lulling you into a comfortable place. 

“Yeah?” Now your smile was even in your voice and Vernon could hear it over the phone. “I—yeah, I like you a lot. God, I sound like a teenager.” 

Smirking, Vernon looks down at his fingers and the red half moon on his pinky as he runs his tongue along his lips and tilts his head. “Well, I mean technically—” 

“Stop it, I’m not. We aren’t anymore. I let high school go, like forever.” Sliding down in your bed, you rest your head on the pillow, sighing into the phone, causing Vernon to have to close his eyes to the sound. “Another reason I like you so much. You don’t seem to dwell on it. High school is over, and we can start something new. Like this, right?” 

Fuck. Vernon has to pull the phone from his ear as his stomach tightens to the idea of you and the sigh you had made in his ear. You were so innocent to him and yet he wasn’t thinking completely with his brain at the moment. Nodding, he swallows hard and rubs his hand along his jeans to ground himself. “Hell, yeah.” 

Partying wasn’t really Vernon’s scene. It wasn’t even the fact that he wasn’t in the “cool” crowd; it was more that his personality didn’t mesh with how loud a party could be. Not just the music or the talking, but the atmosphere. It was all so loud and made Vernon’s head feel like it was in a vice that someone was constantly tightening the longer he stayed—and yet a party is where he found himself tonight. 

Jun loved to party. He liked the release of not having to think. He enjoyed the free beer and access to almost anything he might want to get his hands on. Jun didn’t go crazy, but if someone passed a joint, he wasn’t going to be rude and refuse a gift. 

“Dude, try to enjoy this.” 

Vernon rolls his eyes at Jun as he lifts his cup to his lips, nursing a stale beer he had picked up at the beginning of the night. Sometimes he wished he could be more like his friend. He did find watching people at parties interesting, even Jun. You could really see who someone was when they were wasted. Inhibitions were low and people’s true nature came out to play. 

“I have about fifty other things I could be doing.” Vernon wasn’t lying. It was rare that he and Jun both had a night off from the theater and he didn’t particularly want to be spending it in the house of someone who probably treated him like shit in high school. You were on Vernon’s mind, and he had been letting his eyes wander around the crowd just hoping you might show up—though this didn’t seem much like your scene. 

“Such a fuckin’ buzzkill, man. You gotta relax. That’s why I wanted you to come out with me. You gotta get out of your head. You’re spinnin’ your wheels.” Jun tried to focus on Vernon, but unlike him—who had taken the night slow, Jun had not. He was feeling just how he wanted to be feeling: light, cares were a thing of the past or a problem for tomorrow, and there was still plenty of shit to play with floating around this party. 

Shaking his head, Vernon can’t help the scoff that slips from his lips, though between Jun’s current mental state and the boom of the bass echoing off the walls, it went unheard. “I’m gonna top off.” 

Nodding, Jun turns his attention away from Vernon and towards the pretty girl with a joint resting between her fingers. Vernon, on the other hand, kept his head on a swivel as he moved into the kitchen and straight towards the keg to refill his beer. There was a mishmash of people he had gone to school with; a couple of kids he knew were still in school, but the two that caught his eye were leaned up against the farest wall. 

Vernon wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed Juwon and Alanna until now, but then again they had probably found a room in this godforsaken house and defiled it. Bringing the cup to his lips, Vernon furrows his brows as he follows the direction of the couple's eyes as they laugh between themselves. Jun—they were watching Jun. 

Everyone at this party was wasted—well, almost everyone, and it made no sense to Vernon why old habits had to die hard. Something you had said to him the night before was replaying in his mind as Vernon took a step back into the living room, carefully maneuvering through people as Juwon and Alanna made their way closer to Jun. 

“They just all are mentally stuck in high school. The glory days, you know?”

Well, this wasn’t fucking high school anymore. There weren’t glory days for anyone. Vernon had never gotten any, and Jun sure as hell hadn’t, so why should a group of assholes get them? 

“Thanks, fuckface.” Taking the joint from Jun’s fingers, Juwon passes it to Alanna as the girl who had given it to Jun in the first place shifts uncomfortably. “You living off scraps like a dog? Who invited you anyway?” 

Juwon had always had an issue with Jun for seemingly no problem on the surface. He had gone out of his way to make his life a living hell in high school, and it seemed that wasn’t stopping just because they had donned a cap and gown a couple of months ago. The real issue was that Jun had almost dated Alanna first. Juwon had almost lost the “great love of his life” to someone else, and now that he had her, he had to remind Jun at every given chance. 

Alanna eyes the girl sitting next to Jun harshly. She had no reason to, but she honestly didn’t like her so close to Jun. As much as she loved being at Juwon’s side and making sure that Jun remembered her as she egged the bullying on—she also enjoyed seeing him available. You just never knew if the wind would change. 

“Cut the shit out, Juwo—” 

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Wen? Walking up in this place like you belong.” 

Vernon was seething as he watched just a few feet away along with a small crowd of others. He wanted to give Jun a chance to defend himself, but he had seen this song and dance. Jun wasn’t a violent person; he wasn’t a confrontational person—and tonight he had been drinking and smoking. Juwon had an unfair advantage. 

The moment that Juwon starts to lay his hands on Jun is when Vernon can no longer just watch. Taking a couple of steps forward, he pulls Juwon back, and the anger he is feeling is evident in his eyes. Stepping in front of Jun, Vernon’s nose almost touching Juwon's, he tilts his head as he speaks just loud enough for the man to head. “Touch him again and see what happens. Take your little bitch, and get out of my face.” 

Juwon looks shocked at first, his eyes widening almost comically until a laugh bubbles in his throat. “Yo–you kiddin’? The fuck?” Alanna quickly joins in, her higher-pitched laugh grating at Vernon’s ears as the couple hangs off one another. “You’re a fuckin’ psychopath, Vernon. Almost had me scared for a minute. Shit… Seriously, you could almost pull off being a badass if everyone didn’t know you were a pussy.”

Juwon laughs again as he takes the joint from Alanna, the end of it burning orange as he smirks before inhaling deeply and blowing smoke into Vernon’s face as he pushes him out of his way. Vernon forces himself to keep his eyes open even as they burn from the smoke. He wasn’t going to let Juwon get the better of him, not tonight. Not while his nails were digging into his palms hard enough to break the skin. 

“Goodnight, ladies…” With his arm wrapped around Alanna, the last of the joint resting back between her lips, Juwon grins at Jun as he shifts uncomfortably on the arm of the couch. He had succeeded in doing what he had set out to do. Jun and Vernon had always been the outcasts in high school and at any party they went to, but now they were being looked at like they were diseased. The pretty girl who had been sitting next to Jun was long gone, and anyone else who had been seen talking to Jun before had found better company. 

“Fuck this party.” Vernon sighs, hearing how defeated Jun sounds. His eyes follow his friend as he quickly stands and moves past him, only to get a few feet before Vernon watches him fall flat on his face with a loud groan. 

Searching for the source, Vernon’s anger boils over when Juwon laughs loudly once again, throwing his hands up as he meets Vernon’s eyes. “Not my fuckin’ fault your girlfriend can’t walk. Maybe he’s too fucked up, Vern. Get him home safe; tuck him in. Kiss him goodnight for me?” 

Vernon tilts his head, refusing to respond to Juwon’s words as others around him laugh at the pathetic excuse for jokes. Instead he moves to Jun, trying to help him up, only to feel his hands get slapped away as Jun glares at him, his eyes quickly softening before he gets to his feet on his own. “I got it. I’m fine. I just want to get the fuck out of here.” 

Following Jun, doing his best to keep up, Vernon sighs as Jun tugs open the door to his car, sliding behind the wheel and wiping under his nose hard. Glancing down to the wet, sticky feeling of blood running from his nose, Jun rolls his eyes and leans his head back before meeting Vernon’s eyes and shaking his head. “I don’t wanna hear it.” 

“I wasn’t gonna say a damn thing.” That was the truth. Vernon didn’t have to say what Jun already knew. It had been a bad idea to come to this party. From the moment they had walked in, Vernon had felt it, and now Jun was bleeding because of it. “You want me to drive you home?” 

Grimacing, Jun shakes his head again and wipes under his nose, checking the heel of his hand for more blood. “No, I just—I appreciate the offer, but I wanna be alone. I’ll call you tomorrow.” 

Taking a step back, Vernon watches Jun shut his door,his eyes following the Toyota down the street until it turns the corner, leaving him alone as the sun starts to set. He knew that he should leave too. Logically, Vernon knew that it would be smart to get in his Beretta and drive off—leave all this bullshit behind, but then he hears the laughter from inside the house and logic is off the table. 

“Did you see his stupid fuckin’ face?” Juwon mimics Jun falling forward as Alanna tips back her beer, her eyes bright watching him getting attention from the small crowd around them. They weren’t Christen and you, but when it came to this scene—this is when they were King and Queen. 

Grinning as he slides his fingers along Alanna’s side, Juwon nods, agreeing to another drink as Jake slides off the couch, moving towards the kitchen to gather them for the group. “You having a good time, babe?” He knew she was; he could see that hazed, lazy look in her eyes. She was just high enough, just drunk enough, that the world didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was right in front of her, and that was how Alanna loved to exist. 

“Mmm—so fucking good. Only be better if—” Leaning in to whisper in to Juwon’s ear, Alanna drapes her leg over his thigh, causing him to groan not only to her dirty words but also to the weight of her knee over his crotch. “Know what I mean? Can’t do that here.” 

Juwon’s finger slid down further to grip at Alanna’s hip, her skirt sliding up slightly on her thigh, causing Jake to cough as he averted his eyes. “I—shit. Got more beers... I’ll leave ‘em here. Y’all wanna use my room or somethin’? Don’t fuck on my couch, alright?” 

Pushing his tongue against his teeth, Vernon leans against the wall in the dark hall next to the bathroom as he watches the scene in front of him carefully. It was interesting how much people would let themselves go when they thought they were amongst friends or those who worshipped them. Vernon also thought it was interesting what people left just lying around—or at least what they kept in their medicine cabinets. 

Jake’s mother had been in a car accident about a year ago. Vernon remembered when that had happened. It had been dramatic for the town. She was some important bigwig businesswoman that people thought others should give a fuck about, but Vernon didn’t even know her name until today. He had learned it when he had read her name on the medicine bottle before he had pocketed the pills inside of it. 

Vernon had never been a good chemistry student, but he did know that certain things shouldn’t be taken in large dosages. The human body wasn’t made to accept opioids at an accelerated rate in large quantities. While Vernon hadn’t been great in school, he had enjoyed watching people and realizing how little they watched him. Like how Jake hadn’t paid attention as Vernon added the crushed-up pills to Alanna and Juwon’s drinks before he handed them off to the couple.

It didn’t take long for the drinks to disappear and for the expressions on their faces to change. There was a difference between being high and what they were feeling now. Moving to his feet, Juwon holds his hand to his head as Alanna shakes out her hands, trying to get a grip on herself. “Com—come on, baby. Let’s get out o—outta here.”��

Nodding along with Juwon, Alanna moves to her feet, stumbling along side of him, finding herself holding him upright as the two make their way towards his car. Had they drunk that much? Trying to think back, Alanna blinks a few times as she counts the beers to herself before her attention is brought back to the present and to Juwon when he groans weakly, his legs giving out and pulling her down with him. 

“Juwon… Shit. Wha—baby!” The euphoric feeling of fun that had been running through Alanna’s body just an hour before was long gone as she lazily swiped Juwon’s hair back, feeling warm tears running down her cheeks. All she could feel now was fear mixed with horror as she watched his eyes roll back, his breaths becoming more like choked gasps. “Baby, wake up!” 

Tilting his head, Vernon took in a deep pull from his cigarette before letting it settle in his chest for a second and blowing it out into the wind. He knew that Alanna was trying to be loud enough that others from the party would hear and come to their aid, but she was exhausted and fading. 

Shaking Juwon as hard as she can manage, Alanna sobs, unable to tell if he is breathing—the choking sounds no longer reaching her ears. Leaning back against the side of the car, she tries to focus and to find anyone to help them, but the only person she sees makes her blood run cold. Vernon smirks, flicking the last of his cigarette from his fingers before blowing out another deep breath of smoke, his eyes never leaving Alanna’s. It’s only when the girl’s head falls forward, her body slumping over Juwon's, does Vernon slide behind the wheel of his car and drive down the street. 

At this point, you were becoming numb from going to funerals. It was two days after the morbid joint memorial that Juwon and Alanna’s family had held, and though you had cried—now you just felt numb. 

You had watched Christen pass a flask back and forth between himself, Caitlin, and a few other friends in the church—that had only served to put you in an even worse headspace. To you, this entire experience should be a reason for your friends to clean up their act. Two of your friends had overdosed, and yet the others felt the need to celebrate that by trying to follow in their footsteps. 

There had been a full day of you avoiding your phone and pager. You knew that Caitlin wanted you to spend time with her and that Christen would be right on your heels, but the numbness made it easy to say no, or at least nothing at all. It wasn’t until that second day when your parents had apologized for having to leave you alone for a few days that you felt like you could finally breathe. 

You knew you should want their company. You should want the hovering of your mother and the protective shield of your father, but all you wanted was space from the usual. So, when someone knocks at your door just a couple of hours after you had gotten that space, you find yourself almost willing to let them get tired of knocking as you lay on the couch. 

“Y/N?” 

Furrowing your brows at the sound of your name, you glance towards the front door before sitting up and wrapping your arms around yourself. You had expected either Christen or Caitlin to come demanding your attention, or even someone from the local church to visit with a casserole, but you hadn’t expected to hear Vernon’s voice. 

Opening the door slowly, you meet his eyes and Vernon’s soft smile almost makes you collapse at how easily he starts to seep through that numbness that had taken over your being. “Hi… Why—I mean… Do you wanna come in?”

Vernon isn’t surprised when you start to ask him why he’s there. He had tried to call you, but you weren’t picking up your phone. He could see the look on your face. You looked like you hadn’t slept well in a few days. He didn’t want to pity you, but there was something about that pout on your pretty lips that almost broke his heart. 

“Yeah—yes, I mean sure. If you want me to, I mean, you know if your parents won’t freak the fuck out.” Vernon watches you shake your head as you take a step back and open the door more for him. Moving past you, Vernon takes in a deep breath, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the idea of being inside your house. He had wanted this for so long; he knew that if he went up those stairs and to the right, the last door had to be your room. God, he wanted to see your room. 

“My parents aren’t here.” Sighing softly, you close the door, locking it behind you before watching Vernon as he looks around a bit. “They left this morning to go out of town. Should be back next week sometime.” 

Raising his brows, Vernon looks at a picture of your family—your mother sitting in a chair as you stand beside her and your father behind you both, his hands on either of your shoulders. It was such a classic family photo, and yet to him it looked so fucking fake. Vernon could see you that weren’t as happy as you pretended to be in the picture; there was a fakeness to the smile. He had seen a real smile from you, and he wanted to see it again. 

“Oh—that’s… They left you with all this shit going on? That’s kinda fucked—” Hissing under his breath, Vernon meets your eyes and lets out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business and I’m sure they have their reasons. I just worry about you in this big ass house alone with everything—this house seems lonely, Y/N.” 

You wrap your arms back around yourself, suddenly feeling cold at all that Vernon is pointing out. The house was too big for just you, and it was a bit lonely... Yet you were still enjoying that solitude—minus him. You liked him there. “It’s not so bad; I mean, you’re here. It’s not lonely now. I—and honestly, they were smothering me. I needed a break from them. I needed one from every—that sounds bad.” 

It didn’t sound bad to Vernon. That was something that he understood better than anyone. Sometimes you just needed a break from everyone and everything. If it wasn’t necessary, you had to rid yourself of it. He was finding out he was good at that—very good, in fact. 

Taking one step closer, Vernon smiles slightly, his lips pulling up at one side as he tries his luck a bit to be in your space. He wants to be less of a coward and reach out, take your hand or pull you into his arms, but the fear of pushing you away keeps him just far enough away that you tilt your head and give him that sweet smile that makes Vernon’s stomach twist up in knots. “It’s completely fucking fair, Y/N. I—look, I was hoping that I wasn’t bothering you. I wanted to check on you and… Fuck I don’t know what I was thinking. I missed you. I just wanted to see your pretty face, honestly.” 

Looking down, you press your lips together, trying to keep your reaction hidden. You feel the heat spread across your cheeks, and it only gets hotter as Vernon chuckles and takes one step closer to you. “Y/N?” Watching his hand tremble slightly, your lips pull up in a small smile as he works up the courage to lift his hand to your face, his fingers carefully tilting your head up so you will meet his eyes once again. 

“I’m listening.” You knew you probably shouldn’t let yourself enjoy the feeling of Vernon’s calloused fingers on your cheek, but you were. You should be sad right now, hidden in your room mourning the loss of your friends. But as you meet Vernon’s eyes, all you feel are the butterflies in your stomach. “I—would…” Taking a deep breath, you close the distance between yourself and Vernon, causing him to take a deep breath in return. “Could you hangout for a while? I don’t think I wanna be alone.” 

Vernon’s skin erupts with goosebumps as your fingers trace his forearm up to his rest, where you wrap your delicate hand around his wrist. He expects you to move his hand from your face, but instead you lean into his touch, your head tilted as you wait for him to answer you. Swallowing hard, he nods while tracing your cheekbone, feeling the soft skin under his thumb. “‘Course I will.” 

Listening to the sound of popcorn popping a room away, Vernon runs his fingers over the couch underneath him. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t nervous. You terrified him just as much as you enthralled him. Finally reaching for the small assortment of VHS tapes on the coffee table in front of them, Vernon reads over the titles, trying to make a decision. 

You had left the movie choice in Vernon’s hands, declaring that he would have the most expertise in that field while you would take care of snacks. Leaning against the kitchen counter, you tap your foot against the cold ceramic tiles as you gnaw at your thumb nail watching the popcorn bag spin in the microwave on the countertop in front of you. Your stomach was in knots. You wanted Vernon there, and yet there was that sense of breaking the rules hanging over your head. There was a looming air of risk weighing on you that made you feel like you were in another dimension as you thought about where the night could go—Vernon’s hand on your cheek, his lips on yours—BEEP BEEP BEEP! 

Gasping, you put your hand to your chest, your eyes closed as the microwave comes to a stop, pulling you out of your daydream and back to reality. Emptying the popcorn into a bowl, you balance it on your arm as you carry two cans of soda against your stomach with your other hand making your way back to the living room and Vernon. 

“If we want something to eat in a bit, I can order pizza. Jerry’s is open until 9 o'clock.” Putting the bowl onto the table, you smile at Vernon as he makes a sound, realizing you were so close. Letting him take the sodas from you, you sit on the couch near him, keeping a space between the two of you as you let out a sigh, your eyes moving over the tapes to see what he had picked. 

“Whatever you want... I can always eat, but this is great.” Popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth, Vernon glances at you first and then down to the marginal space between himself and you. It made sense; it wasn’t like the two of you were dating really. Things had been discussed, but being interested and wanting to see where things went didn’t mean it was official. Still, the space made Vernon furrow his brows and caused his stomach to tighten with anxiety. “Yo—you good, Y/N? Is Seven okay?” 

Smiling softly, you shift a bit on the couch, your fingers under your thighs, letting the end of your denim shorts catch between your fingers as you bite at your lips anxiously. “Mmm, yeah. I’m fine. I’ve never seen it; my dad buys most of the movies.” Moving back to your feet, you swipe the VHS from the table and kneel in front of the entertainment center as Vernon watches you carefully. “Is it really scary? I mean—it’s totally okay if it is. Brad Pitt is hot, so that makes up for my trauma.” 

Vernon grins watching you put the tape into the VCR, your head tilting as you sigh and press the rewind button, realizing that your dad hadn’t done it after his last watch of the movie. “It’s not too bad. More thriller and a bit gory. If you don’t like it, we can cut it off and try something else.” 

Getting back to your feet, you shake your head and move back towards Vernon, offering him the remote before taking your seat. “I’m not that much of a wuss. Besides, you won’t let the movie hurt me, right?” You knew it was a pathetic attempt at flirting, but the slight smile on Vernon’s lips and the flush running along his ears to his neck made you feel a bit better about how nervous you were. 

“Nah… never. Wouldn’t let anything hurt you, honestly.” Leaning back against the cushions, Vernon doesn’t see your expression change as he presses play and pops a few more kernels of popcorn into his mouth. He doesn’t seem to understand how much his words effect you and how your heart beats quicker in your chest. It doesn’t seem to dawn on him until you slide closer to him, your legs tucked up under you so that you can rest your shoulder against his arm. 

Struggling to watch the movie, Vernon stays in the same awkward position for the first forty-five minutes of the movie. His eyes move from the television to your face, the pout on your lips becoming more evident as time ticks by, until finally you sigh and reach forward to grab a handful of popcorn, letting Vernon take a much-needed breath. 

He leans his head back, cursing under his breath as you stay forward on your knees for what seems like an impossible amount of time, when in truth it’s only a few seconds—long enough to take a sip of your drink to wash down your popcorn. When you lean back, you gasp quietly under your breath before lifting your eyes towards Vernon, finding yourself tucked into his side. Now your cheeks were burning, and you could feel Vernon’s fingers brushing together against your shoulder as he took a deep breath, seeming to need it for courage as he kept his eyes forward with his arm behind you on the couch. 

You felt perfect against his side, and it was almost devastating to Vernon. You smelled sweet and just as warm as you felt; it was causing him to almost feel lightheaded. Lifting his free hand to his lips, Vernon rubs at them as he glances down at you, being careful not to move his head. God, you were so beautiful. He had looked at you so many times, and he had been close enough to look at you, but never this close. If he really wanted to, Vernon was almost convinced he could take the time to count your eyelashes or freckles while he admired your face. 

Grimacing at the movie, you whine, finding yourself tucking your body and head against Vernon, wanting to get away from the sight of blood and filth in front of you. “So gross…” Fingers brush over your hair and Vernon smiles behind his fingers, finally moving them as he meets your eyes, knowing he has your attention. 

“Is it too much?” 

Rubbing your lips together, you can’t help the way you take in a deep breath of Vernon’s cologne, letting it invade your senses. Looking from his eyes to his lips and back, you shyly smile before you shake your head. “It’s okay.” 

You were saying one thing, and your body language was telling Vernon something completely different—and yet the movie was beginning to not matter. Vernon could almost feel the path of your eyes as they move to his lips before his eyes take the same walk down your face and he feels your fingers gently trace the sleeve of his t-shirt where it sits on his bicep. Did you want him to kiss you? All signs were pointing to yes…

The feeling of Vernon’s fingers on your chin this time is almost electric as he gently keeps your head in place, leaning down to test the waters by brushing his lips against yours. Resting his nose along yours, he smiles when your fingers close against his arm, dragging your nails along his skin gently. “Y/N... is that what you want? I gotta know. I don’t wanna do anything you don’t want.” 

God, your head was spinning. For your entire high school existence and the short time you have had outside of it trying to navigate being a woman, you had never been asked what you wanted. Christen never asked. He told and took, or at least he tried. There had been so many times when he had almost taken things from you that you would have never been able to get back, and now as you clung to Vernon, his lips hovering over yours and that question on his lips—you yearned. 

“Please? Kiss me? I want it.” 

Vernon’s brows furrow tightly, almost painfully so at how needy you sound. His lips meet yours gently, but not without meaning. He doesn’t want to scare you, but he also doesn’t want to risk you slipping through his fingers as he tastes your lip balm on his tongue. 

To Vernon, you seem delicate, almost as if he were to hold you too tightly, he might break you. It’s almost frustrating to you when you whine into the most breathtaking kiss you had ever received and Vernon’s hand tightens on your hip only for him to shakily loosen his grip and move his hand as if he’s afraid of something. 

Shifting on the couch, you open your eyes, moving your leg slowly along Vernon’s thigh to see how he will react. You furrow your brows, feeling a rush of arousal, your panties beginning to stick to your folds when Vernon groans your name from deep in his throat to the feeling of the warmth between your legs against his jeans. 

“Shit—I… Y/N, I gotta—” Vernon leans his head back, his eyes searching the ceiling as you stay still, almost afraid to move based on his reaction and the feeling bubbling inside of you. Glancing over his face and down along his neck, you finally make up your mind, leaning forward to press your lips to the junction between Vernon’s jaw and his neck and listening to his breath quicken. 

Hands slide along your legs to the end of your shorts, where Vernon forces himself to stop and let his hands rest even as his fingers knead at your soft thighs. He could feel how hard he was getting from the feeling of your warmth against his leg and your soft, plush lips on his throat.  “Y/N…” 

Your name was starting to sound like a prayer on Vernon’s lips, as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded and sitting on the couch. “I like you, Vernon. Like a lot, if that isn’t clear.” Groaning in a mixture of frustration and pleasure, Vernon lifts one hand from your leg to run his fingers through his hair, tugging gently to bring himself back to reality. You were making it hard for him to keep his head clear as you traced the collar of his shirt and adjusted your leg over his. 

“I think it’s painfully obvious that I like you too.” Sighing, Vernon meets your eyes as you smile at him. Your face is so sweet, not a bit of malice or ill intent behind your eyes. There is something so innocent and pure about you that makes him equally excited and horrified. “I’m enjoying this. I’m ju—I’m enjoying it a little too much.” 

You weren’t stupid or completely naive. You could feel how hard Vernon was as you dared to slide your leg further up his, resting your knee dangerously close to his crotch. It wasn’t like you hadn’t made out with guys or that you had been around Christen when he had gotten too excited, but this was different. You wanted to be here. You wanted more with Vernon, and you knew what it meant and how it would change things. 

“That’s okay, right? It’s just—you know, just us here. Um, if we wanted to, you know.” 

Tilting his head, Vernon can’t stop the way his lips pull up in a soft, amused smile at your phrasing. Were you embarrassed to ask him for more, or were you afraid to say the words? Or was it something else? Were you even more pure than he thought? 

“Wanted to what, Y/N? Make out? We already were…” 

Whining at Vernon’s words, you shift even closer to him as you shake your head no firmly. “I—no, I mean yes. I want to kiss you so much. Keep kissing me, but more. I mean, if—if you want me like that.” 

The moment that your confidence seems to wane, Vernon’s brows furrow and his hand moves to your neck, pulling you closer for a deep kiss that once again takes your breath. Gasping into the kiss, you feel a rush of excitement run through your body as his other hand slips around to your ass, fingers slipping into your back pocket. 

“You got literally no fucking idea how much I want you like that or how long I’ve—God, baby.” The pet name slips off Vernon’s lips as a soft whine before he can stop himself. A rush of fear moves through him quickly, but when you smile on his lips and shift over his lap to sit on his thighs, Vernon’s anxiety melts away. “Are you sure?”

Nodding, you let your knees slide to either side of Vernon’s legs, a soft gasp escaping your lips when you finally feel the bulge of his cock press against the center of your legs. “Uh huh, I’m sure, but—god, it’s so embarrassing.” Lowering your head to press your face against Vernon’s neck, you only feel shame for a moment before his hand slides over your back to join the other on your ass, helping you gently grind down over his jeans. “Oh…” 

This had to be a dream—some perfect wet dream that Vernon would wake up from with his boxers sticky from cum. There was no way you were actually rolling your hips down over his cock, and those pretty little whines were real, but it all felt real. You were warm on his lap, your pussy almost hot even through your shorts. Your ass felt soft in his hands as Vernon tightened his fingers over the denim, trying to keep himself from throwing you down on the floor and fucking you right there in front of the family portrait over the fireplace. “Fuck—don’t be embarrassed in front of me, please? What’s wrong? Talk to me, baby.” 

Kissing gently at Vernon’s neck, you furrow your brows, feeling his fingers run over your head as he asks you to talk to him. Taking his hand when he moves it to your neck, you link your fingers with Vernon’s before nodding. “I’ve never done this before, Vernon. I wanna do it. I wanna—I want it with you, but I just don’t wanna fuck it up.” 

If there was a way for Vernon to die, go to heaven, and end up back on your couch in the span of seconds, it had happened. Staring up at you, he licks his lips, trying to come up with the right words before finally shaking his head and letting out a sigh. “You’re perfect. You couldn’t fuck up a single thing even if you tried.” 

Patting your thighs, Vernon helps you to your feet and offers you his hand as you give him a confused look. “I’m not doing this on your couch in your living room, Y/N. You deserve so much better than that.” Gently tugging at your hand, he leads you towards the staircase, and you find yourself enamored by Vernon as he leads you to your bedroom. 

While Vernon had thought being in your house was overwhelming, being in your bedroom was like being inside of his dreams. It was like being inside your head and learning how to understand you from the inside out. Dropping your hand for a moment, he moves to turn on your bedside lamp before turning back to you and offering you his hand as you tilt your head and laugh softly. “How did you know which room was mine?” 

You watch Vernon’s eyes shift to your window quickly before he laughs and shrugs into a sigh, his arms wrapping around you while he walks backwards towards your bed. “Lucky guess and I followed my nose. It smells like your perfume.” Vernon wasn’t going to tell you that he had counted your windows hundreds of times and that he had guessed the layout of your house, perhaps knowing it better than his own. No, he wasn’t going to fuck up the best thing that had ever happened to him as you looked up at him like he had hung the stars in the sky. 

“Oh… I bet I could find your room like that too. Your cologne smells so good; it’s my favorite thing.” Leaning forward, you rest your nose in the crook of Vernon’s neck, taking in a breath and Vernon thinks he could die right then and there. Yes, he liked you, but that wasn’t strong enough for the emotions that you made him feel—he loved you. 

“Jesus, Y/N… You don’t even fucking understand what you’re doing to me. I—here, lay down. Let me—I gotta take care of you, right? Make this matter.” Carefully turning with you in his arms, Vernon walks you backwards until your knees hit your bed. “I got you.” Resting his knee beside you, Vernon keeps his eyes locked on yours as he helps you lay back on your bed, a pillow under your head—another picture from a dream he’s had a hundred times. 

Trailing his fingers slowly along your side, Vernon shakes his head as you shift under him, squirming slightly in anticipation. “You’re telling me that no one else has touched you like this?” When you whine his name, Vernon smiles, the warm, soft feeling of your skin under his fingertips as he pushes your shirt up your torso towards your breasts, exposing your body to him... inch by inch. 

“It’s just a question. I just can’t believe I’m this fucking lucky. Crazy to me actually…” Vernon’s words make your cheeks heat up, but any complaints you have die on your tongue when his lips gently brush over your stomach. “But I’ll take care of you... Make you feel good, I promise.” 

You find yourself wondering how many people Vernon had been with before you, but before you can ask, a moan slips from your lips at the feeling of his warm breath and kisses moving along your skin. You knew this would feel good—having someone touch you, kissing you—but you had no idea it would be this good when he had just started. 

“Please… please? Can I see you? ‘M so nervous, Vernon... Don’t tease me.” 

Vernon could tell you were nervous. You were trembling under him. Every kiss brought out a new shiver and more goosebumps. He knew it wasn’t fear, because if he even for a moment thought you were afraid of him, Vernon would stop. That was his worst nightmare—a world where you weren’t safe and happy. 

“Not teasing, baby. I’m exploring… I’m—mm…” Chuckling against your skin, Vernon hisses, almost afraid to say what he wants to, but a glance up to meet your eyes gives him the confidence he needs. “I’m loving you. Lift your hips for me, angel.” 

Wiggling your hips from side to side, you grip at the bedding under you as Vernon works your jean shorts down your thighs and finally off your legs. In that moment, feeling Vernon’s hand running along your leg back towards your thigh, you find yourself happy that you had taken the time to shave your legs. The thought seems trivial and silly, but the feeling of his rougher hands on your soft skin is better than anything you’ve ever felt before. 

“You’re so beautiful. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life, you know that?” Vernon grins as you let out a soft, happy sound to his words and also to the feeling of his lips against your knee. It was killing him to go so slowly, but it was what you deserved. He could just imagine Christen throwing you on the bed and shoving his cock in you. Some bastard who didn’t give a shit about anything other than getting his dick wet, watching you cry, not even from pleasure as he got his rocks off... No, Vernon wasn’t about to treat you like that. He would never treat you like that. 

“Can I?” Sucking in a breath as you feel the back of Vernon’s finger trace the lace around your thigh near the center of your legs, you glance down between your legs and whine. You could see how wet you were and there was no way that Vernon hadn’t noticed too. He was being so respectful, and you loved that he was asking. “Hm? Can I take these off too?” 

“Yeah…” Your voice is quieter than you mean for it to be so you nod, making sure that Vernon meets your eyes. Lifting your hips one more time, you quickly close your eyes when you feel air hit your wet folds and Vernon helps you lift your legs one at a time until your panties are discarded on the floor with your shorts. 

All Vernon wanted was for you to look at him, but the embarrassment was written on your face like a book. This was the first time anyone had seen you like this and he wasn’t going to push you. He was going to help you and ease you into feeling more comfortable. “Pretty girl, it’s just us. I want you to know that you are perfect. Everything about you, from your head to your toes.” 

Your quiet laugh causes Vernon’s lips to pull up in a smile. He loved that sound and he meant what he said. Slowly moving his hands along your legs, Vernon lets you decide when to spread your legs and he does his best to muffle his groan when he is able to take you in completely. “Shh—okay. Perfect, baby. You still okay?” 

Whimpering his name under your breath, you open your eyes to meet Vernon’s and wonder if that was a mistake when you find him watching you closely. Lifting your arm to put it over your eyes for a second before raising it over your arm, you nod and wiggle down in the bed towards Vernon as his breath quickens. “Yeah… Still wanna see you.” 

A scoff slips from between Vernon’s lips and he nods, forcing himself to pull his eyes away from you. It was difficult. You were every bit his wet dream a thousand times over as you lay on the bed naked from the waist down, your shirt bunched up under your perfect tits. “You can see me. Whatever you want.” 

Sitting up on your elbows, you bite your lips as you watch Vernon stand at the end of your bed. Your instinct is your move—to help him as he pulls his shirt over his head or as he undoes his belt, but instead you find yourself frozen in a trance. It isn’t until Vernon pushes his thumbs into the top of his boxers, his eyes meeting yours, that you glance away only to hear him laugh under his breath and whisper your name. 

“Don’t be so shy about it. Even if we just end up making out, I’m not gonna be disappointed, alright? You wanted to see me... Is that still true?” Nodding, you slowly move your eyes over Vernon’s body, letting out a deep breath. You felt childish, like you were still stuck in high school until the exact moment that Vernon’s boxers hit the ground and your eyes met his with want. 

Running his hand over his mouth, Vernon stiffles a groan at the look on your face and to the relief of pressure being off of his cock. He wanted more; he needed more... but this was a start. You were looking at him like he was a full-course meal and he wasn’t planning on making you wait much longer. 

“God, you can’t keep looking at me like that. Come ‘ere…” Helping you sit up more, Vernon meets your eyes with a smile before quickly pressing his lips to yours, his hands working your shirt over your chest. Humming against his lips, you lift your arms, letting him break the kiss to help you out of the shirt completely before his lips are right back on yours. 

Skin meets skin and you find your thighs brushing together at the feeling of Vernon’s cock resting on your lower stomach as his fingers work the clasp of your bra open at the middle of your back. “Oh my god... Please go faster, Vernon.” 

There was that want and need in your voice again. Vernon has already been leaking onto your skin, but with those words, he felt his cock jerk, a rush of pre-cum oozing along your stomach as he tugs your bra from your arms and tosses it over his head, not caring where it lands. 

“Fuck.” There wasn’t much more that Vernon could think to say as he looked at you now. Your lips bitten and swollen from his kisses, your breasts rising and falling quickly with each deep breath, and your knee running along his hip. The moment he feels your warm, wet folds on his thigh, Vernon thinks he’s died one more time. It wasn’t like he had fucked many other girls in his life. A couple of hookups at shitty parties, but none of them had mattered and none of them had made him feel like he was going to lose his fucking mind. He had always heard that your first time, the one who took your virginity was supposed to be the one that you remembered forever… Right now he couldn’t even remember her name, much less her face, as you looked up at him and ran your fingers along his jaw. 

“Are you gonna—” Swallowing hard, you struggle for the right word, but your cheeks bloom with heat and Vernon smiles. “Don’t make fun of me. It’s hard… I don’t know how to say it without sounding gross. I want you... Put it in.” 

God, Vernon felt like he could cum on the spot hearing you say something like that. He wanted to be inside of you, but that wasn’t how this should work. He watches how you pout, a full frown forming on your pretty lips when he shakes his head. Pressing a kiss to your lips, Vernon groans before working the kisses to your cheek and down your jaw to your neck as he speaks quietly. “I will, I promise... Just not yet. I’m not an asshole, baby. It’s not gonna feel good at first, no matter what I do, but I gotta make sure you're ready either way. You understand?” 

You weren’t a child; you had touched yourself plenty of times and Christen had tried to show you porn to see how embarrassed you would get. You knew what Vernon was talking about, but seeing and feeling was different. With a breath getting caught in your throat, you run your fingers through Vernon’s hair as he kisses the top of each of your breasts, glancing up at you to make sure you are okay before running his tongue around one of your nipples. Arching from the mattress, you moan behind tight lips, your brows furrowed as Vernon smiles against your skin, sucking the bud into his mouth gently. 

“Holy shit… That feels so good. Your mouth…” It all felt so dirty, like you shouldn’t be able to experience it, and yet as Vernon’s fingers caressed your stomach moving lower, your head just got clouded with arousal. The first pass of his thumb between your folds is like being shocked by a live wire. Any attempt you had at being quiet fails, your lips falling open in a breathy moan that has Vernon groaning against your soft breast as he repeats the motion. “Please, please, please...” 

Your pleads sound like a prayer—a song of worship sang by a true believer as you lift your hips and roll them towards Vernon’s fingers as he uses his knuckles and thumb to massage your clit. “You’re so wet, Y/N.” Vernon had said your name and he was talking about you, but you weren’t sure he was actually speaking to you. It was more that he was saying the words on his mind out loud in wonder as he finally eased his index finger into your tight hole, feeling you clench down around him like a vice. 

“Baby… Fuck—” Vernon’s voice gets caught in his throat as he rests his forehead against your chest, working his finger into you, feeling your arousal seeping around it. “Relax for me. Let me help you feel good, huh?” 

You were trying to relax, but Vernon’s finger was deep inside of you and you could feel every time he would bend his knuckle, raking the pad of his finger back towards your stomach. It was overwhelming how good it felt and how much you wanted more. To you, it made no sense how you could already feel so full and yet so empty. “Uh huh…” 

“That’s my girl.”

Vernon’s voice had dropped an octave and as if that wasn’t hot enough, he had called you his girl. God, you wanted to be his girl. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted that until he said it. You wanted to be his, only his for the rest of your life. You knew it was silly, that this was probably that first time euphoria taking over you, but looking into Vernon’s brown eyes as he smiled up at you sliding down further into the bed... You were falling in love with his boy. 

Using his other hand to separate your folds, Vernon groans under his breath as he glances from you back to what he is doing before leaning in to run his tongue from his finger to your clit. He hadn’t warned you, but being between your legs, his mouth level with your pussy should have told you everything you needed to know, in his opinion. Yet, when you practically scream his name, your mouth falling open in shock, Vernon just grins and latches on to your clit rendering you speechless. 

This was like nothing you had ever felt before. You had fingered yourself before, played with your clit... but having Vernon’s mouth on you? That was pushing you over the edge so fast that you couldn’t think straight. There were no intelligent thoughts in your brain; the only thing that was there was Vernon, Vernon, Vernon... 

Trying to lift your hips, you let out a choked moan when a second finger eases in to you next to the first. The feeling of being full and wet skyrockets you to the moon and back; your thighs shake on either side of Vernon’s head and before you can warn him, the coil that had been so quickly winding inside of you snaps. 

Closing his eyes, Vernon groans loudly, feeling your thighs close around his head as you cum. He knew it was coming. He could feel your walls squeezing his fingers—the way you were pushing your hips down over his hand trying to fuck yourself. When you finally let your legs fall to either side, apologies slipping from your lips, Vernon silences them by slowly slipping his fingers from you so he can replace them with his tongue. 

Fingers tightly grip at brown locks as you struggle to not trap Vernon’s head between your thighs once again. You sob out his name on a moan, tears running down your cheeks as your thighs begin to shake once again. “I can’t—oh, my god. It almost hurts, Vernon.” 

Furrowing his brows, Vernon groans at how good you taste, but your words make him find his restraint. Licking his lips, he takes a deep breath and meets your eyes with blown-out pupils, his hips pressed firmly into your comforter to keep himself from rutting against it. “‘M sorry, baby. You taste so good. I don’t want it to hurt; I just want you to feel good.” 

Vernon’s lips pull into a soft smile when you reach for him. Sliding up in the bed between your legs, he kisses your jaw and then your lips before gliding his tongue along yours, letting you taste yourself. Making a face, your brows knitting together, you pull back from Vernon to pout up at him and shake your head as his fingers lightly stroke your side. “Tastes awful… But I do feel good—so, so good. I—I want this. I want it all. Can I—you?” 

A laugh starts to leave Vernon’s mouth, along with a comeback about how you taste like candy to him when your hand wraps around his cock and nothing he was going to say is left in his head. Groaning, he rests his forehead against yours, letting out a shaky breath before wrapping his hand loosely over yours and guiding it over his shaft in a slow stroke from base to tip and back. 

“Tru—trust me… I want you to. I want so much with you, but fuck. If I let you do this or anything else…” A long groan of your name falls from Vernon’s lips as he meets your eyes, looking for mercy, when you break free from his hand and trace the slit in his head with your thumb, feeling pre-cum ooze around your finger. “Babe, I’ll cum before I can fuck you. I can’t bounce back as quickly as you and I really—don’t do this to me. Please, beautiful.” 

You could see yourself getting addicted to the power of having Vernon’s cock in your hand. You loved how you were reducing him to breathy moans and begging, but you wanted to feel him inside of you. You wanted him to be your first and you wanted it today. You didn’t want to wait anymore. Lightly scratching your nails along the underside of his shaft, you pull your fingers from Vernon, watching him choke on his breath, his arms shaking as he struggles to keep himself above you. “Okay, Vernon, but I wanna do this next time.” 

Next time. Those two words made Vernon feel like he was levitating. You didn’t want this to be a one-time thing. You wanted him in your life. Groaning deeply, Vernon nods, leaning down to capture your lips as he uses his left hand to pin your right wrist to the bed, keeping it away from his cock. “You can do whatever you want to me next time. I swear to god.” 

Silence takes over the room; only your shaky breaths are left as Vernon’s thumb strums at your pulse point over your wrist. You had asked for this, and now that it was going to happen, you found yourself once again so nervous that you felt like you could faint. Vernon could see it in your eyes, all those nerves racing through your mind. There was enough stress on you; this should take it away, not add more… He’d do what he had to in order to let you know this wasn’t scary. 

“Okay, baby? Rest your knee against my hip, keep your leg up... Should make it easier. I’ll go slow, and if you don’t like anything, you tell me right away. I’ll stop. I won’t be mad or sad.” Seeing the pout on your lips even as you move your leg like you were asked to do, Vernon copies it and shakes his head. “I like you so fucking much, Y/N. I liked you before we got in this bed and I’ll like you once we are out of it. This is a goddamn dream come true, angel.” 

It was almost like you could hear him telling you that he loved you, and while it scared you, it also made you relax under Vernon. The brush of his thumb over your warm cheek, his lips lazily moving over yours as he lined himself up with you and began to ease himself into you—it was all overwhelmingly perfect. 

Furrowing your brows to the stretch and then a stinging pain, you hiss on Vernon’s lips, causing him to look down at you as he finally bottoms out in you, feeling you clench around him. “Wait—” Nodding, Vernon bites at his lips, watching you closely as you seem to try to work out some internal problem, but as the pain starts to fade and your face relaxes so does his anxiety. “Okay, I’m okay. You can move.” 

He wanted to. Vernon’s brain was telling him to fuck you hard and fast, but his heart reminded him who you were and where he was so he kept it slow. Each thrust smooth and steady so he could keep his eyes on your pretty face, watching for any signs of discomfort, but the deeper and longer he went, he only saw bliss. “Is it good? You like it?” 

There weren’t words to describe how much you enjoyed the feeling of Vernon inside of you. It was as if you were made to be one and for you to feel this full, but as he kept his pace slow and his thrusts almost too shallow, you couldn’t explain the frustration building inside of you until it snapped. “Mmmhm, more? Can I have more?” 

Closing his eyes to hide how they were rolling back in his head from pleasure to your words, Vernon nods and buries his face in the crook of your neck. He was dying for more. He would have kept this pace for the entire time if it was what you wanted, but it would have been torture for him, but those words... and asking for more? 

“I’ll give you the fucking world. So, yeah, baby, I’ll give you more.” 

Vernon’s choice of words makes you smile, a bit giddy at how love struck he sounds but your moment is short lived because he stays true to his words. A loud gasping moan falls from your lips as Vernon’s hips meet yours hard, his cock buried in you so deep you wonder how you are possibly able to fit all of him. The drag of his tip as he pulls almost all the way out of you almost makes you cry in fear you are losing him but then he is back inside of you as if he never left, his hips rutting against yours harder and faster. 

“This what you wanted? More? Tell me it’s what you wanted.” 

Tears once again form in your eyes as you nod, feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach. You couldn’t believe how quickly Vernon could get you to your orgasm. There had been nights when you would lay on your back, your fingers working hard only to find no satisfaction. Yet Vernon was making you cry with how good he could make you feel. “Please, yes! So good… It’s what I want, Vernon. Don’t stop, please. I’m gonna—” 

You couldn’t even say that you were going to cum? God, you were perfect. Vernon’s perfect, pure little untainted rose that he was going to keep unsoiled by anyone else for the rest of his life if he had his way about it. Nipping at your jaw, Vernon groans loudly, feeling himself getting close to his own climax as your walls tighten and quiver around him. “Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby? Say it… Do it for me? I wanna hear you say it.” 

Pushing your head back against the pillow, you sob Vernon’s name as his fingers slip between your legs to rub at your clit as his cock fills you full, keeping you right on the edge. You find yourself wanting to give him exactly what he wants, even if it makes your entire body feel like it’s on fire and like you are going against every single moral thing you know. Biting your lips, you whimper, your words a whisper—yet Vernon smiles hearing each one. “I’m gonna cum for you.” 

A deep thrust, one that sends you towards the headboard as his fingers circle your clit without mercy, makes you do exactly that. Choking on your moans, you feel Vernon’s thumb wipe under your eyes pushing away your tears as he whispers your name and how good you are before he groans deep and pulls from you suddenly. 

Warm, sticky cum paints your stomach as Vernon’s hand strokes his cock quickly. Panting groans spill from between his lips as he sits back on his knees and lets his eyes move over your body to your face as you look up at him trying to catch your breath. 

“Fuck, babe…” Running his hand over his mouth, Vernon sighs, glancing down at the pool of cum on your stomach, running towards the top of your mound and he swears his cock could get hard again. “I—shit. Whi—which room is the bathroom? I’m gonna get a washcloth and clean this off you.”

Gesturing to the hall, you mutter across the hall, watching Vernon roll from your bed and towards your door. The more time that passes, even as you listen to the sound of water from a room over, you feel your chest get heavy—a deep sense of dread washing over you as tears once again threaten your eyes. This time when the tears spill over your cheeks, they aren’t from pleasure and you find yourself confused as to why you feel so upset after something that felt so good. 

Washcloth in hand, Vernon sighs only to stop in his tracks seeing you crying. “Wh—shit. No, what’s wrong?” Sitting on the bed beside of you, he runs his fingers through your hair while using his other hand to carefully clean your stomach. The moment he is back on your bed, his hands on you, the dread you had felt starts to fade, your chest feeling lighter. 

“I–” Swallowing hard, you shake your head and lean into Vernon’s touch as he slides down in the bed and pulls you into his arms, letting you curl up against him tightly. “I don’t know. I felt so alone all of a sudden and scared.” 

Shushing you, Vernon kisses your forehead, running his hand along your back as your fingers scratch lightly at his stomach, causing him to suck in a breath. “I’m—fuck… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you right after like that. I didn’t even think. That was so stupid. I just didn’t want all that shit to dry on your skin. I’m not gonna leave you, baby. I promise.” 

Promise. That word makes your heart jump and you wrap your arm around Vernon’s waist, pulling yourself even closer to him. You knew that there was a risk of falling in love with the person who took your virginity, but that wasn’t what this was. This was something more. This was more about who Vernon was and the type of person he was. 

Pressing a kiss to Vernon’s chest, you look up after to find him smiling down at you. It was taking everything in you not to say those three little words that he wanted to hear more than anything. 

Tapping his fingers against his steering wheel, Christen sighs loudly as he turns on to your street. He was annoyed. You hadn’t been answering your phone, and you had avoided him for two days. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t know what was going on. He was feeling some sort of way after going to the funeral too, but that didn’t mean he was going to be a bitch and cut people off from his life like you were. Clearly you were just dealing with shit and needed to be checked on. 

Pushing his tongue against his cheek, Christen stares at the car in your driveway as if it will disappear. There was no fucking way that car was in your driveway. Your parents cars weren’t there, but Vernon Chwe’s was? Something was fucked up and he was fuming. 

Slamming his car into park and leaning forward to look at your house, Christen narrows his eyes at what lights are on. Where could you and this freak be? What were you two doing? He wasn’t sure what pissed him off more. The fact that Vernon was at your house. The fact that he was at your house alone with you. Or the fact that your bedroom light was on while the rest of the house was dark. 

“Motherfucker—I should…” The words trail off Christen’s lips as his eyes fall back on the Beretta, his blood boiling. If Vernon could taint something precious that belonged to him, he would ruin something precious of his. 

Taking a deep breath, Vernon smiles when he realizes that you are in his arms. The smell of your shampoo and perfume almost overwhelms his senses even before he opens his eyes and pulls you a bit closer. He probably shouldn’t have stayed over, but after everything that happened, he couldn’t see himself leaving you—he didn’t want to leave you. 

You had been beautiful the night before, but in the morning light that could make it through your curtains, you were stunning. Vernon usually didn’t like the mornings. He preferred to sleep in until later in the day and spend his time out later at night, but for you—to see this, he’d get up at the crack of dawn. 

“Mmm…” Stretching against Vernon, you turn in his arms, nuzzling your nose against his chest. You were beginning to wake up, but everything around you still felt like the best dream ever. You were warm and safe in Vernon’s arms. Nothing bad could possibly happen to you ever again. There was nothing else besides what was in this room right now that mattered. 

Leaning to brush your hair from your forehead, Vernon smirks a bit to himself as your nose wrinkles a bit and you seem to try to hide from his touch and the light by burying your face even closer to his body. “Baby…” The word slips from Vernon’s tongue like candy and you smile against his skin, remembering how many times he had called you that the night before. “I gotta go home... least for a bit. Come on, don’t hide from me; let me see your pretty face for a bit.” 

Your smile fades at the idea of Vernon leaving you alone. You knew it wasn’t forever, but your mind was spiraling with the idea that he might not come back, so it took a lot of strength to meet his eyes and attempt not to look as sad as you felt. Though you tried to smile, Vernon could see the way your bottom lip was sticking out; he could see the concern in your eyes, and it almost broke his heart. 

“No… hey.” Sitting up, Vernon pulls you into his arms and cups your cheek, pressing his lips to yours and taking your breath away. You were melting against him. Vernon could feel how pliant you were in his hands and it was almost too much for him to handle. He knew without even having to ask that if he wanted to, he could lay you down and make love to you all over again… but he had to wait. “I’ll be back. You think I’m leavin’ you? I’m not an idiot. Got me for as long as you want me, Y/N.” 

It shouldn’t make you as happy as it does to hear Vernon pledge himself to you like he does after one night, but you can’t stop the smile that pulls at your lips even as you kiss him. “Promise? What if…” Laughing sweetly, you bite at your lip and give him a teasing look as he sighs, meeting your eyes. “What if I said forever?” 

Groaning, Vernon furrows his brows, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You might be joking, but god, he wished you weren’t. “Then you can have forever. ‘M yours, long as you want me, like I said. Just gotta make sure my mom doesn’t file a missing persons report.” 

Vernon laughs when you wince at his words, the cute look on your face making him fall even harder for you. He knew his mom wouldn’t actually do that, not after just one night. He had been gone for longer periods of time, but there were some things he needed to do before he came back to you. 

“I’m sorry, Vernon... I’m clingy, I guess.” Trailing your fingers along his chest, you sigh into your pout, feeling his fingers trace your jaw. Shaking his head, Vernon lets his index finger move over your cupid’s bow, feeling your lips press against the pad of his finger. He wants to give in and stay right where he is. 

“I’ll be back this afternoon, promise.” 

Even after trying to feed Vernon or at least send him home with some form of food, you are left in your foyer with your lips tingling as he refuses, saying this is more than enough. You can only watch as he winks at you and closes the door behind him, leaving you alone in your house, making you realize just how quiet it is when you are by yourself while you count down the hours until he comes back. 

Sliding the pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, Vernon puts one between his lips and starts to light it when his mouth falls open, the cigarette falling to the pavement at his feet. A moment before he could hear the birds chirping, cars driving in the distance, and even kids playing down the street. Now he could only hear the blood rushing in his ears as his eyes moved over the side of his Beretta and the red paint that had dripped down the entire side of the door in big capital letters: ‘PERV’. 

Shoving the cigarettes back into his pocket, Vernon curses through gritted teeth as he moves around the other side of his car, only to laugh in anger when he sees ‘LOSER’ on the other side in the same red paint. He didn’t need to figure out who had done this or even guess—he knew. There was only one person, Christen. 

The sound of the car door slamming outside makes you jump, your brows furrowing at how angry it sounds. You start to move to your front door when you hear tires squeal out of your driveway and down the street, leaving you confused and feeling a bit sick to your stomach. You knew that Vernon was a bit different from what you knew, but he wasn’t the type of person in your mind to drive recklessly. 

Deciding to settle back into the cushions of your couch and pass the time with television, you manage to zone out for a while. Your mind occasionally drifts to Vernon, causing your eyes to wander to the clock before you pull them back to your show. It had only been a couple of hours so when you hear a knock at your door, you are surprised but excited about the idea of him being back so soon. 

Practically skipping to the door, you pull it open and your smile drops as you meet Christen’s eyes as he leans against his hand against the door frame, causing him to loom over you. “Wow, for a second there, I thought you were happy to see me, baby.” 

The name baby on Christen’s lips makes you feel queasy as you take a step back and he takes it as an invitation to take a step into your house, kicking the door closed behind him. “I—I’m not up to hanging out.” 

Scoffing, Christen tilts his head at you and glances around your house as if looking for someone else before his eyes land on you once again. “Why the fuck not? Cause I’m not Chwe?” Christen watches your reaction—how you almost recoil at Vernon’s last name. That was all he needed to know, as if he didn’t know that the fucker had been at your house last night. “What the hell are you doing, Y/N? Did—” Disgust creeps along Christen’s face as he gives you a once-over, searching for something unseen. “Did he—did that pervert touch you?” 

You open your mouth to defend yourself and Vernon, but nothing comes out. You aren’t sure what to say. It’s none of Christen’s business and yet when he asks you something like that, you are overwhelmed with shame, as if you have done something wrong. The look evident on your face, Christen groans, lifting his hand to run it over his face, taking a step towards you to grab your wrist, pulling you towards him hard.  

“He did. Baby… You gotta tell me.” Pulling your arm in his grasp, you whine, finding his grip too tight—painful. “Did he fuck you? Tell me he didn’t. Tell me you didn’t let that freak inside of you.” 

Tears gather on your eyes as you pull once more at your arm, blinking a few times they slip on to your cheeks. “Let me go. Stop talking about him like that. It’s none—” 

“What the fuck, Y/N!” Christen’s anger makes you stop moving and talking. His grip tightens on your wrist and all you can do is whine his name, more tears rolling down your cheeks. “I didn’t think you were a slut, but I guess that’s what you fuckin’ are. Jesus Christ! Giving it out to anyone who’ll take it, huh?” 

Christen’s words cut deep at your heart and your confidence even as you shake your head trying to defend yourself, knowing he is wrong. You hadn’t done anything wrong. You had slept with one person your entire life and you cared deeply for him. Christen’s problem was that it wasn’t him. He was lashing out—he was trying to make you hate yourself, it was working. 

“Who’s gonna touch you now, Y/N? After you let him fuck you?” Pushing your arm hard back towards you, Christen’s expression doesn’t change when the force of his action causes you to stumble backwards, falling on your ass. “It’s pathetic… You’re pathetic. Just a slut.” 

Sobbing, you wrap your arms around yourself, begging Christen to leave you alone. Sucking his teeth, the man you had once called your friend tilts his head and stares at you for a moment longer before turning back towards your front door, leaving you alone once again by slamming your door. The sound of the windows rattling from the force of the door shutting makes you jump, a small shrill scream escaping your lips before you lay on your side, pulling your legs up towards your stomach and letting the tears fall freely.

Gritting his teeth, Vernon uses the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead as he kneels next to his car with a bucket and rag. He had been trying to clean the red spray paint from his black car for over an hour and he had barely made a dent. It was a hot day and the morning sun had only served to bake the paint into the clear coat of his Beretta. 

Vernon didn’t cry, but as he leaned into his driver-side door panel with all the strength he could muster, he could feel the pressure behind his eyes. This was bullshit. He hadn’t done anything wrong to Christen. You hadn’t done a fucking thing wrong to anyone, and yet this small dick son of a bitch was lashing out like a child, going after the only other thing that Vernon loved. 

The part of town that Vernon lived in wasn’t like yours or honestly, even his closest friends. Most people avoided it because of the lack of amenities and not many people wanted to be seen in the low-income section of such a well-respected little town. Vernon was used to the sound of engines revving; there were always beater cars that sounded like they were on their last legs going up and down his street so when someone seemed like they were late to an appointment, Vernon didn’t give it a second thought. He kept his eyes forward, his brows tightly furrowed as he grumbled. 

Rolling his neck from side to side, Christen leaves his car door open and keeps his eye on the prize—Vernon Chwe with his head close to his stupid ass car as he scraped the truth written from it. He was surprised that he hadn’t heard him pull up; he hadn’t been subtle. Christen had left your house and hauled ass to get to this trailer park trash part of town and to take care of this. 

Pain runs through Vernon’s face and head when he meets the side of his car with a loud thud. He can hear a muffled voice through the pain and ringing in his ears; it only becomes clearer when a boot meets his ribs, knocking the air from his lungs. “Stupid fucking freak. Couldn’t keep your hands off what doesn’t belong to you? I’ll fucking kill you.” 

Blinking up at Christen, Vernon groans in pain, his hands grabbing for the foot that kept meeting his bruised torso in an attempt to stop the blows. Christen was furious, but so was Vernon. Anger had already been rushing through his veins and now his adrenaline was in overdrive. “Get the fuck off’a me!” 

Vernon twists Christen’s foot hard, bringing the other man down to the ground with a loud, painful groan. Both try to make the next move, but Vernon is a second fast, letting him get in the first punch across Christen’s face. “You piece of shit! I was willin’ to let this go.” Vernon wasn’t lying; he had you. He had woken up and felt the best he had in a year. For the briefest of moments, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought about him, but as he felt Christen struggle under him, he knew he’d never know that peace with you again—not while he was breathing. 

Laughing, blood on his lips from Vernon’s fist making contact, Christen uses his fingers to dig into Vernon’s forearm muscle as he pushes against him. “I ain’t letting anything go, you perv. Thinkin’ you are high and mighty now that you got some pussy. ‘Specially some that don’t belong to you!” 

He was still laying claim to you. Not even Vernon would claim that you belonged to him after being with you. There was something about how Christen was talking about you, like you were an object, that made him bite through the pain of his grip long enough for him to get his footing. “She doesn’t belong to you! She hates you; don’t you fuckin’ get that, Christen?” 

That was more than Christen could stand to hear. He could manage a few weeks of letting you sit in your mistake, washing the freak off of you before he would touch you—but the idea that you hated him? That was insane; no one hated him. Except maybe Vernon, but that feeling was mutual. 

“She worships me, Vernon. Always fucking has.” Eyes like daggers follow Vernon as he stumbles backwards into his garage as Christen moves to his feet with a low groan. They were both exhausted, bruised, and bleeding—but this wasn’t over. Following Vernon, Christen points towards him as he wipes blood from his lips with his other hand. “Just cause you got her to put it out like a slut one time doesn’t mean a damn thing. You’re gonna pay for that and then you’re gonna get your ass out of her life.” 

A slut. That was enough to make Vernon scoff into a laugh, his hand steadying him on an open drawer of his tool chest. You weren’t a slut; you were the furthest thing a person could be from something like that. The fact that Christen of all people was calling you told Vernon everything he needed to know—he didn’t care about you at all. Christen had never cared about you, and if he didn’t care about you, then he didn’t matter. 

“Did you fucking hear me, freak?” 

Vernon takes a sharp breath, his fingers wrapping around the handle of the knife as his eyes follow Christen’s broad steps towards him. Without a second thought, Vernon sinks the knife into Christen’s stomach, watching the smug look on his face slowly fade away into confusion and then horror. 

Blood seeps around his hand as Vernon digs his free hand into Christen’s shoulder, preventing him from taking a step back until he allows it. Looking down at the knife, Venon feels his lips pull up in a slight smirk when Christen gasps in pain. 

“Vernon…” 

Vernon wasn’t sure he had ever heard Christen sound so pathetic and weak before as he pulled the knife from him, meeting his eyes. “I heard you. Can you hear this?” Christen gasps, a choking sound bubbling in his throat as blood seeps around his mouth when Vernon stabs the knife back into his stomach, deeper. The others Vernon had kept at a distance. He hadn't gotten his hands too dirty, but he would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit he was enjoying watching the life drain out of Christen’s face. 

Wiping his hands, Vernon takes a deep breath, nodding at how much progress he had made on his car. Unless you knew what you were looking for, you couldn’t see where the words had been painted anymore, and if you looked in the garage, the only thing that would have told you that anything bad had happened was the smell of bleach. 

Vernon tosses the rag on to the table before putting a cigarette between his lips and looking at the back of Christen’s car. He wanted to get back to you. He had been gone for too long after promising he just had a couple things to do—of course that had been before some unexpected hiccups—but Vernon meant to keep his promise. 

Closing the truck, not giving a second look to the body rolled up in a tarp inside of it, Vernon lets out a deep breath of smoke before sliding behind the wheel of Christen’s car, feeling a wave of anxiety lifting off of him as he pushes his foot down on the gas. It was a nice car. He could tell that a lot of money had gone into keeping it up. For a second, Vernon pictures a time when he and Christen could have had a normal ass conversation about cars, but that’s short lived as he turns onto the secluded road leading to the lake. 

“Sweetie, are you sure you don’t want to go to the cemetery?” 

Sitting in the backseat of your father’s car, you shake your head, refusing to look up at either of them. You didn’t want to look your parents in the eye and tell them that you didn’t care enough to go to the cemetery and watch people cry over Christen for another hour. You had done plenty of that in the church while people had looked at you like you were going to shatter. You weren’t; Christen wasn’t what everyone thought he was to you, but it didn’t matter what you said or thought. 

You father sighs, starting to say something when your mother coos in sympathy. When you do glance up, you wish you hadn’t when you meet Christen’s mother’s eyes. She looked broken, and yet you could tell she was loving the attention that this was bringing her. It was sick. “We are so sorry for your loss—” 

“Y/N, darling… Ride with us in the limousine to the cemetery. It’s what Christen would want. He would want his girlfriend to be with his family, sweetheart. I know you are being modest, but you don’t have to be.” 

Being cut off, your mother shifts her eyes from you and back to the woman in front of you as you look off to the side. She had never seen you this way. You were like a sunflower in the middle of a field of daisies and today it was as if the sun wasn’t rising for you. Thinking back, it had been that way for a while for you; they just hadn’t wanted to see it. 

Shaking your head, you scratch at a bug bite on your arm, your lips rubbing together as you try to think of something nicer to say, but there was nothing you wanted to say that was kind or proper. “If you think that he’d want his girlfriend with his family, perhaps you should ask Caitlin to ride with you.” Avoiding the woman’s eyes, you look at your mother with a pleading look on your face as you reach for her hand and whine. “Mom, please… I just want to go home now.” 

With a grimace on her face, your mother nods at you before meeting Christen’s mother’s eyes and seeing the fire behind them. “She’s exhausted; she hasn’t been herself for days since this happened. Please forgive and excuse us.” 

You knew that not going to Christen’s funeral would be a big deal to some. There would be plenty of talk. There were plenty who—just like his mother—thought you were his girlfriend. They all thought this despite you giving no one—including Christen—any reason to think so. Perhaps there had been a time when you would have done the uncomfortable thing for appearance’s sake, but that girl was just as dead as Christen was. 

Looking out the back passenger’s side window, you had been doing a good job of blocking out most of the conversation until your father’s voice lowered. It only did that when there was something to hide—something important—and now you were listening carefully. “He was brutalized... They’ve put the entire town on curfew. I just—what do we even do? We can’t leave her like this.” 

Your parents were good at talking about you like you weren’t in the same room or car with them. They were good, decent people, but that didn’t make them excellent parents. None of that meant that when your mother had been nineteen years old and knocked up that she had actually wanted to marry your father and have you, and yet here you were—in the car, invisible but looming. 

"Well, we don’t actually have a choice. That school is going to cost more than our damn mortgage.” Glancing into her visor mirror, your mother makes sure you are still watching the side of the road as she tries to keep her voice calm and low. “If she even still wants to go—” 

“She’s going. I’ve put too much goddamn money up for it.” Gripping the steering wheel tightly, your father rolls his neck, feeling annoyance ripple through it. They enjoyed being the parents who went to barbeques and got to say their daughter was going to a notable university in the fall, but deep down your father resented it. You hadn’t played sports or been exceptional at your classes, so there were no scholarships; there was just mommy and daddy’s hard-earned money. 

“Then that means we have to go to Chicago. She’ll understand…” 

They were leaving again. You were used to it. You knew your parents worked hard but you had gotten good at raising yourself once you hit high school. At that age, you were old enough that your parents could take business trips and schmooze their bosses. It was harder to impress the higher-ups from a little desk behind a phone. It paid well to drink and rub elbows with the ones who mattered personally. 

“Y/N… baby?” Furrowing your brows at the sweet shift in the tone of your mother’s voice when she speaks at a volume meant for you to hear. You meet her eyes in the mirror and tilt your head as she gives you a small pout. “I know things have been hard, honey. You’re strong, you know that? My strong girl...” 

You knew what she was trying to do, and while you could appreciate the peptalk, you weren’t in the mood. Looking back towards the side of the road, you sigh, and your mother purses her lips. “There’s a curfew now. Everyone has to be in their houses at dark.” 

“I know, Mom. The sheriff told us at the memorial—” 

“I know he did. You also know that there is someone dangerous still on the loose, but Y/N…” Grimacing at the idea of what she needs to tell you after what she just said, your mother looks towards your father, feeling his hand slide over hers to give her a bit of courage. “You’re an adult now, and we have to trust you because we have a business trip. One that we can’t pass up.” 

You didn’t want or need their excuses so you just nodded along with her words. “Okay, mom. I’ll be alright.” 

Laying back on his bed, Vernon groans as he looks at the sun starting to set just over the horizon. He hated this curfew bullshit. As if the curfew would keep anything from happening to anyone... As if it would keep him from doing anything if it needed to be done. 

“Vernon, did—are you listening to me?” 

Your voice brings Vernon back to the present; he shifts the receiver on his shoulder and nods. “‘Course I am, baby. I’m just—I’m thinkin’.” 

Walking around your kitchen with the cordless phone against your ear, you sigh softly to Vernon’s words before opening the fridge to see what you could make yourself for dinner. “Yeah? And—so? What do you think? I don’t wanna be here all weekend by myself. Don’t you wanna, maybe... spend some time with me?” 

That’s all Vernon wanted to do. He could hear you moving around in your house, and he could picture himself there with you already. “You know I do. I just—don’t think I’d make it there by curfew. People didn’t wanna leave the matinee and—” Vernon could hear the disappointment in your sigh as you let out a deep breath. “I don’t want you mad at me.” 

Dragging a pan from under the stove, you shake your head and lie to him and yourself as tears collect on the rims of your eyes. “Not mad. I’ll be fine. I’m gonna cook something and watch TV. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” 

Vernon runs his hand over his face, a soft groan escaping his lips when you want to get off the phone with him. He knew you were lying. You might not be mad at him, but you weren’t thrilled either. After everything had happened with Christen, Vernon had taken a step back while still trying to be close. It was a strange feeling, trying to keep you safe without being so close that he was the issue. He wasn’t sure if someone would link him to something or not; he was smart and he had covered his bases, but he wanted to be sure before he got too close to you again. Yet now, hearing your soft breaths and knowing you were about to cry, Vernon knew he couldn’t keep it up. 

“No… I’ll be over soon. Let me pack a couple things and I’ll figure it out. I’ll—” Scoffing into a laugh, Vernon slides off his bed and towards his desk as he rubs the back of his neck. “Try not to get arrested on my way over.” 

You knew you should feel bad for pressuring Vernon into coming over, especially with how close it was to the curfew. There was probably less than ten minutes before it would go into effect, and his house was at least twenty minutes away on a good day. “Please don’t get arrested, and be safe. I—” Unspoken words had become part of yours and Vernon’s routine. You knew what you wanted to say—what you felt, but it all still seemed too early. 

Swallowing hard, Vernon closes his eyes and imagines the two other words leaving your mouth before he sighs. “I’ll be alright. See you soon.” 

Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel out of nerves, Vernon watches every corner and dark area as he drives to your house. There were a few others out, but he watched them quickly pull into driveways and usher children or spouses inside their houses. He wasn’t so worried about them as he was about the possibility of a cop lingering around the next street. 

When your house comes into view, he finally breathes out a sigh of relief, pulling his car into your driveway and glancing at the houses closest to you. Everything was so quiet on your street. If there was anyone at your neighbor’s house, Vernon couldn’t tell. The house was completely dark and there were no cars in the driveway—the same went for the house across the street. Your house was like a lighthouse at a port. 

Pulling his bookbag over his shoulder, Vernon groans a bit at the soreness in his muscles. He was still bruised heavily; that had been another reason he had been avoiding you. He didn’t want you to see that he was hurt, and he didn’t want you to worry about something you couldn’t fix. He had already fixed it. 

Nerves roll through Vernon as he moves towards your front door and lifts his hand to knock. He just wanted to get inside and away from the street. He knew that if he got caught even outside of the house after curfew, the cops would have questions and he didn’t have all the right answers. Waiting a full minute, Vernon shifts uncomfortably and knocks again when he hears a loud crash from inside your house and raised voices. Something was wrong, and he wasn’t going to wait any more. 

“You don’t even fucking care! You didn’t go to the funeral, Y/N. You’re such a selfish bitch.” 

Staring at the broken glass of your mother’s vase on the hardwood floor, you shake your head as Caitlin’s voice breaks. You had been surprised when someone had knocked on your door earlier than expected. You thought that maybe Vernon had driven a bit too fast to make better time, but then you had been sorely mistaken when Caitlin had pushed her way past you and into your house wanting answers. 

“This is crazy. You need to calm down—” 

“Don’t you tell me to calm down! I’m so tired of being told to calm down.” Pacing in your kitchen, Caitlin laughs, the laugh causing a chill to run down your spine. It isn’t a sound you had ever heard your best friend make before because the laugh isn’t one of humor. It’s dark. “You never cared about him. That’s the fucked-up part. I loved him—like really loved him, and he wanted you!” 

Picking up a bowl from the kitchen island, Caitlin doesn’t even think before she throws it towards you, narrowly missing your head as you duck, letting it hit the wall instead. Ceramic shatters behind you as you scream her name, begging her to stop. “It’s not my fault! I didn’t—please? Stop this…” 

Vernon narrows his eyes as he moves down the dark hall towards the kitchen, just as Caitlin screams at you again. He had heard you scream and beg her to stop; he had heard more things breaking—all he wanted to do was get her away from you. 

“It is your fault! He was murdered, you bitch!” Moving towards you quickly, Caitlin lunges at you, barely missing you as you push past her and back towards the pot boiling on the stove with tears streaming down your face. With tears streaking her own face, Caitling straightens her back and wipes hard at her cheeks as she stares at you with disdain. “I think you did it or you know who did. Shit like this doesn’t happen here, Y/N! Christen wouldn’t let someone close enough to him—to do that to him. So… I think you did it and I’m—” 

Gritting his teeth hard, Vernon watches Caitlin’s eyes move to the knife on the counter before her hand does the same. Panic rushes through him as he tries to think of what to do next, knowing whatever she is going to do can’t happen. 

Your back pushed up against the stove; you feel the hot steam against your back as you sidestep towards the fridge looking for a way out. You search for a way to get away from Caitlin as you watch her weigh the weight of the knife in her hand before she looks back at you and then her face contorts with even more hatred. “Please... Put it down, Caitlin. You’re my best friend. Don’t do this.” 

Caitlin was barely looking at you now as Vernon stepped out of the hall and into the kitchen behind you, his eyes fixed on her. Now it all made sense. All the pieces were clicking in her mind and she was right. She didn’t need some dumbass cop to solve a murder when she was looking at the murderers right now. “You did it, didn’t you freak?” 

Shaking your head, you take a step back, jumping when you feel a warm hand on your shoulder. Glancing up at Vernon quickly, you look back at Caitlin to keep your eyes on her and the knife. “Caitlin—” 

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N! Are you blind? You know how much he hates us.” 

Vernon just sighs, his hand sliding along your arm as he tries to move you behind him and out of the way of danger, even if it means putting himself in the line of it. Caitlin laughs as she watches, the knife pointed in your direction, the tip falling slightly forward in her amusement at the sight and the look in your eyes. She wasn’t an idiot; she was the smartest person in the fucking room and she knew you were in love with the fucking loser standing in front of you. All the pieces fit together like one big fucked-up puzzle. 

“Oh, I’m sorry... How much he hates me. How much he hated Christen... He clearly doesn’t hate you and you are in love with the person who killed your friend.” Making a face, Caitlin looks like she’s going to be sick, her fingers tightening on the handle of the knife. “God, I can’t even look at you. You let him do it?” 

Shaking your head, you try to push past Vernon, feeling defensive of him when Caitlin tries to blame him for murder. It wasn’t that you hadn’t even considered it yourself in times of weakness—you wouldn’t even have blamed him—you just didn’t want her doing it. “Shut up! You don’t know anything, Caitlin! He hasn’t done anything wrong; it’s always been you!” 

Trying to keep a grip on your arm, Vernon says your name and winces when you accidentally push back against his ribs. Everything happens so quickly in front of him that even though he tries to be the first one to act, he watches it like a movie in front of him. 

Caitlin screams in anger, finally letting go of all of it that had been boiling in her blood as she sees red and storms forward with the knife. Her intention and eyes set on Vernon; she finds herself surprised and annoyed when your hand grabs her wrist, keeping it back from the man. Of course you would stop her; she had been so close—but at this point, in her mind, it was two birds, one stone. 

“Stupid bitch!” Caitling’s shrill voice cuts into your ears just as much as the knife as she slashes at your arms, the two of you falling on to the kitchen floor. The only thing you want to do is get the knife away from her—keep her from making anymore mistakes, but when you feel pain followed by warmth spreading along your stomach, your blood run’s cold. 

“Fuck… Fuck!” Pulling on Cailtin’s arm, Vernon panics when he hears the sound of a choking gurgling—the sound of someone swallowing their own blood. From where he is standing, all he can see at first is blood on the white tiles, and the last person with the knife in their hand had been Caitlin. With his heart in his throat, Vernon whispers your name like a prayer as he separates you from Caitlin, and his eyes fall to the knife, and your chest rises and falls in panic. 

Meeting Vernon’s eyes, you quickly look down at your hand and the blood running along your fingers before seeing the knife buried deep in Caitlin’s stomach near her ribs. “No… no, no, no!” Sobs fall from your lips as Vernon pulls you back against him, his arm wrapping around your waist as tears fall along your cheeks. 

He knew you were upset; you were panicking, but Vernon kept his head. Turning your arms over in his hands, he shakes his head and whines your name, seeing the cuts and deep gash near your wrist. “Baby… shh. Listen—stop! Listen to me.” Vernon didn’t want to yell at you, but you had started to struggle against him, your eyes moving over Caitlin’s lifeless body as blood seeped from her mouth and you wanted to do something to change it. “We— It’s time to go. We are going to wrap your arm and then…” 

Shaking your head, you sob his name, feeling him turn you in his arms as he reaches for a dishcloth, wrapping it around your wrist tightly. “Yes, Y/N. You did nothing wrong. It was self-defense, baby... But they won’t give a fuck, so—baby girl, we gotta go.” Holding your cheeks between his hands, Vernon meets your eyes, and tears run over his fingers as you try to understand what he’s telling you. “We are leaving.” 

It takes half an hour for you to pack a bag and to be settled in Vernon’s passenger’s seat. You try to make heads or tails about what is happening, what’s real, and what has to be a dream as you both sit in the darkness of the garage across the street, waiting for the right time. 

You had insisted on calling the cops. Vernon had wanted to leave right away, but you didn’t want to leave Cailtin alone in your kitchen like that. So now you were stuck watching as three police cars slammed on their breaks in front of your house, and each cop held their gun at the ready as they entered. 

When the call had been made, you had been crying, saying you and your boyfriend were hurt and that your friend had been hurt too. They asked if the person who had hurt you was still in the house and without needing to lie, you had looked at Caitlin and said yes. Vernon had watched you carefully, waiting for the right moment before he grabbed the phone out of your hands and threw it against the wall hard enough for it to break. He was smart, you realized then. You also realized you didn’t know him as well as you thought—there was a lot you needed to learn about the person you were now on the run with. 

“They found her.” Sighing, Vernon leans his head back as one of the cops comes out of the house with his hand over his mouth. Small town cops weren’t used to this much death; Vernon almost felt bad for him. “We can wait until they get the ambulance out here and day breaks—then we go.” 

Closing your eyes, you nod, feeling fresh tears rolling down your cheeks. This was the only place you knew, the only life you knew and it had just been taken from you so quickly. Fingers wrap around yours, and Vernon’s lips brush over your knuckles as he furrows his brows, watching you closely. You were falling apart, but he wasn’t going to lose any of the pieces. He’d put you back together, no matter how long it took and no matter how far he had to take you away from here to do it. 

“Me and you, Y/N, okay?” Meeting Vernon’s eyes, you nod again, seeing his lips pull up slightly as he kisses your knuckles. Silence is almost deafening in the car, as you watch red and blue lights move across Vernon’s face, his eyes searching yours before he finally speaks again. “I love you.” 

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[covenofagatha]

alright alright i’m thinking dub!con modern/nonmagic au.. into something rough and/or bondage. we love the age gap. i’m leaving a lot of holes lmfao i will talk shop if you want specifics baby

finally finished omg

hope everyone enjoys

title is from Chains by Nick Jonas cause why not

Chains for your love

When you're house sitting for your neighbors Agatha and Rio, you decide to throw a party and they are not happy when they find out

Word count: 3400

Warnings: dubcon, smut, rough sex, bondage (handcuffs), vibrators, fingering, spanking, choking, threesome, might be missing one or two sorry if so, age gap (all legal)

Your neighbors would kill you if they found out what you were doing right now. 

Agatha and Rio, the couple next door, had asked you to house sit for them while they were on vacation to Cabo for a week as a favor to your mom. 

You had just graduated from high school and she said, and you quote, “you need to get your lazy butt off the couch and do something with your life or so help me.” 

So when Agatha mentioned to her that they were leaving for a while, your mom had thrown you under the bus. 

You didn’t know much about your neighbors, only that they were two smoking hot older women who were kind of crazy. You had also barely ever interacted with them, always at school or doing homework when they came over to have lunch with your mom. 

Agatha is about ten years older than her wife, with long dark curly hair and piercing blue eyes. Her fashion sense is always on point and her veiny hands do things to you. 

Rio, while pale and a brunette as well, is tall and lean, and very intense. Her hazel eyes bore into you whenever you’d come downstairs to get a glass of water, like she knew something that you didn’t. When she looks at you like that, you can’t help but squirm and wonder if you did something wrong. And yet, for some reason, you find it hot.

All you had to do while they were gone was stop by, water their plants, collect their mail, and make sure their house was in order. 

Which you did, perfectly, you might add. 

It just so happened that on the last night of house sitting, you were supposed to go to a party at your friend’s house to celebrate the end of senior year, but her parents came home early so she needed to move it. 

And you had the brilliant idea to use the giant, empty house at your disposal. 

Cue the music, lights, and drinks. 

“This is so nice of your neighbors to let us use their house!” Your best friend Wanda yells at you. 

You laugh, pretending not to have heard her over the bass, because they certainly did not. 

In fact, you think, you think they would be quite opposed to it. 

Agatha and Rio were quiet people; they didn’t like mess, especially in their house.

And this here, with Jimmy Woo throwing up in the bathroom and Natasha Romanoff knocking over a bottle of beer on the ground and two people making out in the pool, was as messy as it could get. 

You’re on your second wine cooler, feeling it start to hit, and you stumble around the living room, trying to assess the damage before the party is even over. 

It may have gotten more out of hand than you were intending it to. When you had told your mom what you were doing, you had mentioned having a few people over for pizza, and she had said that if it got out of hand, or if she heard about even one thing being out of place when Agatha and Rio got back, she would, and you quote, “ground your butt until you graduated from college.” 

You almost pointed out the irony of her wanting you to do something, but the moment you were going to, she threatened to not let you do anything for the next four years, but decided against it. 

“Here!” A bottle of beer is pressed into your hand and you turn to find Darcy Lewis standing there. Even though you shouldn’t, you take a swig and Wanda leaves to go find her boyfriend. “Cool party!” 

“Thanks!” You shout back and she giggles before taking your hand and leading you into the kitchen, where it’s a little quieter. You haven’t talked to Darcy that much, but she was in two of your classes and you know she’s going to MIT. 

“Got any summer plans?” She asks but she slurs the words. You laugh like it’s the funniest thing ever. “What?” 

You point at her, almost doubling over. “You’re so drunk!” 

She looks scandalized for a second, raises her hand to fix her glasses, and then becomes hysterical too. “So are you!” 

The next thing you know, Darcy and you are kissing. 

You’re not sure who started it, but her mouth is against yours and your tongue is in her mouth. 

You pull back, there’s some eye contact, and then the two of you crack up again and she goes outside to the patio. 

Drunken makeout accomplished and your head sufficiently spinning from the two and a half drinks now, you make it a mission to start cleaning up. 

You’ve collected half a trash bag full of cans when people start pouring out of the house, telling you to “stay in touch!” and “have fun at college!” and then it’s just you in the house. 

There’s still a lot to clean up, but you’re tired and sloshed, so you set an alarm on your phone for six in the morning so you can get up and tidy up the rest before Agatha and Rio get home. 

You pass out on the couch immediately. 

Which turns out to be a huge mistake, because when you finally wake up in the morning, your neighbors are sitting in the chairs across from the coffee table, both wearing matching displeased looks. 

You shoot up, scrambling into a sitting position, heart pounding. “What–” You furiously tap your phone to find out why the alarm didn’t go off, but it doesn’t turn on. 

Of course it died. 

Rio chuckles, leaning back and crossing a leg over the other, amused with your panic. “Care to explain what happened here last night, doll?” 

Your cheeks redden and you try to think of something that won’t get you in trouble because it seems like you are fucked. “I had some friends over,” you say, and it sounds pathetic even to your ears.

Agatha tuts and rests her elbows on her knees. “‘Some friends?’ Angel, have you seen what our house looks like?” 

You gulp and take a look around, dread sinking deeper into your stomach. The pieces of glass that no one picked up. All the cans and bottles you missed. A sweatshirt thrown onto the floor. Pizza crusts and plates scattered across the furniture. 

“I was going to clean it up, I swear,” you say, your throat suddenly really dry. 

“Oh, and,” Rio says, so cheerful for no reason. You can only imagine what she’s going to say, but she takes out her phone and taps the screen. You raise an eyebrow and she turns it to you. 

At first, you’re not really sure what you’re looking at, but then it becomes clear. 

It’s a recording of you and Darcy making out in their kitchen, the angle from somewhere on the counter. 

You lurch back on the couch. “You were spying on me?” You hiss, feeling violated.

Agatha rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Please, darling, this is our house, we can do whatever we want in it. Plus, we weren’t sure if we could trust such an immature, young thing like you and clearly, we couldn’t.” 

The jab about your age makes you angry. “I’m not that young and I’m not immature!” You say indignantly. 

“Making out like a slut with the first girl who gives you attention while drunk at a lame high school party?” Rio taunts, standing up and sliding next to you on the couch. You feel the pit in your stomach grow when Agatha does the same on the other side. You’re not sure who to look at. “Seems like something a childish brat would do.” 

“And now, we think there should be consequences,” Agatha coos, hand coming to brush a piece of your hair back behind your ear. Fear spikes through your veins. 

“Please don’t tell my mom! She can’t find out about this, I’ll be in so much trouble,” you beg and Agatha smirks. You jump when you feel Rio’s hand touch your thigh and you freeze when it slides up to the hem of your short skirt.

“So you don’t want us to tell your mom,” Rio muses, toying with the edge of the fabric. You have to bite back a moan and it becomes hard to breathe. “I guess that means we’ll have to punish you some other way for creating such a mess.” 

“What did you–” You have to stop to swallow roughly. “What did you have in mind?” 

Agatha hums lowly. “We need to make sure you learn your lesson, no matter how hard we have to beat it into you.” You whimper and pray that neither of them heard it. 

But of course they did.

Rio snickers and cups your pussy, all the air being punched out of your lungs. “God, she’s dripping, Aggie,” she says and your face burns hotter than it ever has. 

You shake your head, denying how much you actually want this, and try to clamp your legs close, but Agatha pries one open and Rio moves her fingers up and down your clothed slit. 

“We can always go next door and tell your mom,” Agatha warns and that’s all it takes to convince you. You turn to Rio, wrap your arms around her, and pull her in for a kiss. 

Immediately, Agatha yanks you back by your hair and Rio slaps you across the face. It’s not hard enough to seriously hurt, but the sting makes you gasp. 

“Bedroom, now,” Agatha barks and practically drags you off the couch and up the stairs, Rio practically cackling while she follows. 

You’re thrown onto the bed in the room that you may have snooped through a few times this week. Enough times to find all of their toys in their bedside drawer and imagine the women using them on each other. 

The same nightstand where Rio is heading toward now. You watch her saunter over, lips parting, but Agatha roughly grabs your chin and forces your mouth open with her thumb. 

“Don’t look at her,” she growls and leans down to whisper in your ear, “If you ever want us to stop, say purple.” 

The second you nod, she spits directly into your mouth. A strangled moan leaves your throat and Agatha slides two fingers inside your mouth to spread her saliva all over your tongue. You gag around them as she pushes them deeper and you feel tears pricking your eyes. She scrapes her nails against your tongue and you roll it up to flick at her fingers, not missing the way she bites her lip. 

And then she flips you over so your stomach is on the bed, hikes your skirt over your ass, and spanks you. The impact reverberates through your body and the sound echoes throughout the room.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

“A young thing like you shouldn’t be using such dirty language,” Agatha tsks and slaps you again. “That’s for kissing that whore in our kitchen.” 

Again. 

“That’s for leaving a mess all over our house.” 

Again. 

“That’s for proving us wrong when we thought we could trust you.” 

Again. 

“That’s for making us punish you the second we get back from our lovely vacation.” 

Again. 

“And that is for teasing us all those times at your house when you’d come downstairs dressed in barely anything. It’s like you wanted us to notice how desperate you were for us,” she snaps. 

You’ve dissolved into a moaning, sniveling puddle on their bed but the thought that you’ve been unknowingly turning this couple on makes you even hotter inside. 

Agatha reaches down to the crotch of your underwear and laughs meanly. “God, you’re so fucking wet, did being spanked like a slut turn you on?”

While you consider yourself a proud person, there’s absolutely no pride in the way you nod your head so hard it hurts. 

She tears your panties off and shoves two fingers in you without preamble. A loud sound rips out of your mouth and your body rocks forward with the force. She fucks you with a brutal pace and it’s exactly what you need, but then she pulls out and slaps you harder than before on the ass. You groan, absorbing the hit, and you feel yourself clench around nothing. 

You need her fingers back inside you, but she turns you back over and you prop yourself up on your elbows. 

Rio comes back into view with two pairs of fluffy handcuffs and a few other toys. “Get against the headboard,” she orders and you scramble to obey. She hands one pair to Agatha and they both make quick work of chaining one cuff to your wrist and the other to the bedside post. You give an experimental tug of both hands and while you can wiggle your arms and wrists comfortably, there’s no getting out. 

The two women come back around the bed to face you and you squirm under their direct attention. 

“What do you think we should do with our naughty little plaything?” Rio asks, tongue pushing against the inside of her cheek, eyes lighting up with possibilities. 

They fall into these roles so well and you can only imagine what it’s like when the two of them have sex. 

“I think we should fuck her until she can’t take anymore and she’s begging for us to stop,” Agatha muses with a smirk. Your breath catches at her idea. 

“I think the slut likes that sound of that,” Rio says and Agatha nods in agreement. “Maybe we hold the vibrator against her until she cries. What do you think, doll?” She raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Whatever you want, please just touch me,” you beg. 

Agatha bends over to run a finger up your thigh, watching how you shake. “Be careful what you wish for, angel.” She crawls onto the bed so she’s kneeling in front of you and once again, pushes two fingers forcefully into your dripping pussy. She’s not gentle at all, curling her fingers and scraping her nails against your insides, but it’s perfect. 

You struggle against the handcuffs, wishing you could touch her, but Rio tuts, takes off her pants and underwear, and moves to straddle your stomach, blocking Agatha partially from your view. 

Your breath hitches as she pulls up the crop top from the party last night and lowers her wet cunt onto your abs and lightly grinds. Her head falls back and you think you could cum from the feeling of her against you like that.

And then she starts moving faster just as Agatha does, her fingers filling you and fucking you just how you need it, and Rio’s right hand comes to clasp around your throat. You throb around Agatha’s fingers and you had no idea that would be such a turn on for you. 

Agatha’s thumb presses down so hard on your clit that it almost hurts while she keeps her merciless pace and your hips start to buck against her fingers. Rio squeezes harder and the lightheadedness you feel only drags you closer to the edge. Her nails dig into your skin and you think you might die from how good it feels. 

“Are you going to cum for us?” Agatha asks from behind the woman riding your stomach faster. 

“Yes,” you manage to choke out, seeing Rio’s delighted face on top of you. 

And then Agatha pulls her fingers out of you and you whine loudly, only for her to slap your pussy hard. 

You can hear the wetness. 

And then you can hear buzzing. 

Agatha presses something against your clit and you almost jump out of your skin. 

It’s the vibrator and you’re guessing she turned it up to one of the highest settings. It’s so intense on you and you can’t help but cry out as it sends you straight into an orgasm. Being breathless from Rio’s hand around your throat only increases the pleasure and you’ve never felt anything like that before.

You expect some relief from the assault on your clit but it never comes. Agatha holds it against you while Rio slips a finger down to her own pussy to get more direct stimulation where she needs. The woman on top of you is beginning to fall apart and it only heightens your own sensitivity. 

The vibrations have your hips rolling and you quickly cum again, and this time, you try to close your legs or scooch up the bed to get it off, but Agatha doesn’t let you. 

She rakes her nails on your leg and then you feel her roughly bite your inner thigh. You gasp and your hips buck up, almost throwing Rio off. 

Rio finally takes her hand off your throat and bends down over you so she can suck marks into your collarbones as well. 

Both their mouths on you and the vibrations still on your clit throw you right over the edge again. 

This time, Agatha does move it away from you and you can finally breathe.

But not for long, because Agatha slides a finger back inside your sopping cunt and lazily fucks you. Rio’s panting on top of you and she finally buckles with pleasure as she cums for the first time. It’s the hottest thing ever, the way she tosses her head back and seizes up, small sounds falling out of her mouth.

Once Rio comes down from her high, she gets off you, smirking at the glistening wetness on your stomach. You gape down at them as she joins Agatha to watch her fuck you. 

And then your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back in your head when Rio pushes a finger into you too. 

Fuck. 

You have both of them inside you. 

They move in sync, dragging their fingers out and thrusting back into you at the same time, and you groan loudly. 

“How does it feel, angel?” Agatha says, voice thick and low. 

“Feels so good,” you babble, sweat breaking out on your forehead as you raise your hips to meet them. 

“Does our little slut need to cum over both our fingers?” Rio taunts. 

Your head falls to the side, blissed out with the feeling of them both curling and pressing on that spot inside you that you can rarely get to on your own. Your stomach is almost cramping and your arms are aching from pulling so hard on the cuffs. “Yes, please, fuck, wanna cum, so close.” 

And then they pull out of you at the same time like they planned it and you clench needily around nothing, your hips still undulating. 

“Wait, what, why?” You wail and they start laughing at you. “No, no, come on, please.” You pull at your restraints like that will do anything and Agatha harshly slaps the inside of your thigh where she bit you earlier, and it makes you jump. 

“Stop being a greedy little slut,” she scolds. Rio walks over and unlocks the handcuffs from you so you can sit up. “You already came twice. Maybe you’ll think twice about using our house for an orgy next time.” 

“It wasn’t an orgy!” You protest and Rio rolls her eyes and grabs your jaw roughly. 

“We don’t care if it was your fucking church group,” she snarls. “You made a mess and hopefully you’ve learned your lesson.” 

You slouch, still feeling desperate. You can still feel both their hands in you, twisting and fucking you so well, and you don’t think you’re bound to forget that anytime soon. 

“Well, angel, did you learn your lesson?” Agatha presses and you petulantly nod. 

Not exactly beating their young and immature allegations anytime soon. Who cares though. 

“You better get home before your mom starts to worry and thinks we’re torturing you,” Rio says, playful glint in her eye.

“Cause that would be so far from the truth,” you mutter and Agatha swats your leg again. 

“Get out of here,” she says. “Maybe next time we go out of town, we can see if you were actually paying attention.” 

All you know is that next time they leave, you’re going to throw an even bigger party. 

[poetic-vulgarity]

ᎮᎥᏖᎩ ᎮᏗᏒᏖᎩ - Kim Minjeong x Reader

Word count: ~5K

Prompt: When Minjeong transferred to an elite school, she didn't expect to catch the attention of Y/N, the golden girl. Then again, she also didn't expect Y/N to be the root of all her misery.

Tags: slow burn; angst; drama; high school! AU; richgirl!Y/N; happy ending (?)

Part I, Part II, Part III

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Ask any student out there how they feel about school, and you'll get the same answer.

It's shit.

There was no way around it, especially not for someone like Minjeong.

Shy, quiet, reserved.

She was a walking billboard that practically screamed "bully me."

And bullied she was. Ever since high school began, she'd been their favorite target. They scrawled insults on her desk, threw food at her, and even stuffed her into a locker once.

Minjeong thought it was just the way life worked. Some people were born unlucky.

Then Taeyu came along. Messy, reckless, the kind of girl who could (and would) fight anyone. For reasons Minjeong never fully understood, Taeyu liked her. And the bullying stopped.

They became best friends. Two years passed, and things weren't perfect, but Minjeong started to believe she could survive.

She wished Taeyu was there now.

If she had Taeyu by her side, all the stupid kids wouldn't be staring at her as she made her way through the doors of her new school. 

The towering entrance of Elite Open School Korea loomed before her. The glossy floors, the spotless hallways, the sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows—it was the kind of school where the rich ate up success like it was their birthright.

Minjeong didn’t belong there.

But she didn’t need to belong. She just needed to graduate. The full scholarship had been her ticket there, and she wasn’t planning to waste it. Screw fitting in. She’d keep her head down, study hard, and get the diploma.

Still, as she stepped inside, her confidence wavered. The air was heavy and she could feel the weight of all the judgmental eyes on her. She held her bag tighter and pulled out her crumpled schedule, her eyebrows knitting together as she tried to make sense of it.

The school was massive. Minjeong had no idea where to start.

"You’re with me."

Startled, Minjeong looked up and found herself face-to-face with a stunning girl who radiated confidence.

"I’m Jimin, student president. I’m supposed to take you to your class," the girl said, her tone light and warm.

Relief washed over Minjeong. She nodded, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Jimin didn’t wait for a response before turning and heading down the hallway, her polished shoes clicking softly against the floor.

Minjeong hurried to follow, her school bag thumping awkwardly against her back. "I'm Minjeong." 

Jimin looked over her shoulder, a few loose strands of hair brushing her face as she smiled. "I know who you are; I was the one who made your schedule." Jimin replied with a soft chuckle. "Had to fit you and the other new students into the system."

Minjeong blinked, processing her words. "That... explains a lot, actually."

Her schedule was a mess: classes from 7 a.m. to 4 p.m., a long break, and then another class that ran until 10 p.m. She wasn’t sure if it was legal to keep students in school that long but they were all rich there. Who cared if they were breaking rules?

Jimin grimaced. "Yeah, sorry about that. In my defense, though, you signed up for a lot of extracurriculars."

Minjeong’s lips twitched into a small smile. "Don’t apologize. It’s fine."

"It’ll be cool; we have a few classes together," Jimin added with a grin.

When they reached the classroom, Jimin stopped and turned to her. "Here we are. All your classes today are on this floor, so you shouldn't get too lost. But if you do, text me. My number's on the schedule I sent you."

Minjeong nodded, her cheeks flushing faintly. "Thank you, Jimin."

"Of course. Have a good first day, okay?" With a wave, Jimin disappeared down the hall, leaving Minjeong standing at the door, alone.

It wasn’t as bad as she’d feared.

Sure, a few students glanced her way as she walked in, their gazes sharp and appraising. Most of them didn’t bother hiding their curiosity—or their judgment. The guys wore designer shoes and watches, while the girls carried handbags that probably cost more than her family’s car.

Minjeong ignored them and scanned the room for a seat. She spotted one near the back and made her way over.

"That seat’s taken."

The voice was cold and cutting, and Minjeong froze mid-sit.

The girl who spoke was staring at her, eyes narrowed, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Minjeong swallowed and stood up, looking around for another desk. She wasn’t there to make a scene.

"That one’s taken too," the girl said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

"Why don’t you show her to her seat, Lee?"

The new voice came from the front of the room. Minjeong turned and saw another girl leaning back lazily in her chair.

She was stunning, easily the prettiest girl in the room, with an air of casual arrogance that made her seem untouchable. Her uniform was pristine, not a single hair out of place, and her expression was unreadable.

Lee, the first girl, faltered. "I—uh..."

"Go on," the pretty girl said, her tone light but commanding. "Since every seat is taken, show her one that isn’t."

Lee clenched her jaw but got up with a huff, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder. "Fine. Follow me."

Minjeong glanced at the pretty girl again before trailing behind Lee, her head bowed.

"This one," Lee said, motioning to an empty desk.

"No," the other girl called out, her voice calm. "Not that one. She won’t be able to see the board properly."

Minjeong’s grip on her bag tightened. The room felt suffocating, every set of eyes burning into her as Lee led her to another seat.

"Here?"

"Still not good," the girl said, her tone almost playful.

Minjeong clenched her jaw, frustrated at the situation. This was all a game, and she was the entertainment.

Finally, the pretty girl tilted her head. "Tell you what. She’ll just take your seat, Lee."

Lee stiffened but didn’t argue. Her eyes flashed with anger as she grabbed her bag and stomped off.

Minjeong hesitated. She didn’t want to take Lee’s spot, didn’t want to make things worse. But when the girl raised an eyebrow and her eyes darted from her to her new assigned seat, Minjeong sighed and sat down.

She kept her head down, rummaging through her pencil case, her eyes fixed on the desk in front of her.

An awkward silence loomed over the classroom, broken only by the sound of students chatting and the occasional burst of laughter.

Minjeong’s eyes shifted to Lee, noticing the way she kept a sharp eye on her former seat. A part of her felt bad for taking it, but it was already done.

She took out her notebook, pen, and highlighter from her bag and placed them on the desk. Her hands went up to brush her short hair back behind her ears.

Minjeong’s eyes darted up to the front, looking for the teacher. Instead, she noticed the pretty girl from before standing in front of her.

Minjeong tilted her head up, keeping her shock and awkwardness from showing on her face. The girl was stunning—her features soft, her lashes long, and her lips plump.

The girl gave her a small smile. "The view okay?"

Minjeong’s head spun at the words. Her cheeks instantly flared up with embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to stare. She didn’t even realize she was staring in the first place.

"Sorry," she responded hastily. Her eyes darted around the room, desperate to look anywhere but at the stranger.

The girl chuckled lightly. "I meant the board."

"Oh."

Minjeong felt like her soul left her body out of sheer embarrassment. She couldn’t stop staring at the stranger earlier, and now she’d somehow made it worse for herself.

"Yes, it’s a great view," she mumbled, her voice small. She forced a smile, hoping to salvage the situation.

Minjeong tried to focus elsewhere, her eyes shifting to the window and the students outside, chatting with their friends and enjoying lunch—blissfully unaware of her predicament.

The girl smiled wider, clearly amused.

She extended her hand, drawing it towards Minjeong. "I’m Y/N."

Minjeong hesitated for a moment before reaching out her own hand to shake Y/N’s. "Minjeong," she replied, the handshake lasting a beat longer than necessary before she quickly pulled away.

Y/N was… a lot. Minjeong wasn’t sure what her intentions were. Was she just messing with her, or did she genuinely want to be friends?

"Pleasure to meet you," Y/N said with a nod.

Minjeong blinked. What high schooler said "pleasure to meet you"?

"You too," she muttered, her voice barely audible.

A tense silence stretched between them as the two of them stared at each other. Minjeong wanted to look away, to dig into her bag for something to distract herself, but her eyes kept finding their way back to Y/N.

"Welcome to the school. I’m sure you’ll fit in well." With that final comment, Y/N turned on her heel and walked back to her seat.

Minjeong let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Y/N was intimidating. She was too pretty and confident for her own good, and Minjeong didn’t know what to make of her.

All she wanted was to get through the day without any more trouble.

And, for the most part, she did.

During lunch hour, Minjeong hid in the library. Her other classes went by without much ruckus.

Throughout her first week, she realized that she shared a lot of classes with Y/N. She saw the popular girl almost every day. Correction: she noticed the small smiles Y/N sent her between classes—almost every day.

It was… weird.

Y/N had a cool friend group and a perfect reputation around the school. She had no reason to even notice Minjeong.

“You need to leave the newbie alone. Her friends died. Have a little compassion.”

Y/N turned to glare at Yeonjun. It was Friday, and the group was eating lunch together. Since Monday, Y/N hadn’t seen Minjeong set foot in the cafeteria.

“You could be a bit more respectful about it, no?”

Yeonjun pouted dramatically. “Chill, I was joking.”

“Our Y/N is protective over the newbie,” Aeri teased, nudging Y/N’s side playfully, trying to get a reaction out of her.

“Why would I be protective over anyone?” Y/N huffed, picking at her food as if it were playdough. Her eyes lingered on the unopened sandwich she’d bought that morning.

“Well, you keep looking for her,” Chaewon pointed out, raising an eyebrow as she sat down beside Yeonjun with a knowing smile. “In class and now here.”

Y/N felt cornered. She usually didn’t show this much interest in anyone, and her friends had noticed. It was irritating.

Before she could mutter an excuse for her behavior, her phone rang. Her friends immediately knew who was calling by the look on her face.

“I’ll see you guys later.” She grabbed her belongings and stood up, phone already raised to her ear. “Yes, Dad?”

The call only lasted a minute or two, but it gave Y/N the perfect excuse to slip away. She wandered into the library, her curious eyes scanning the room for one person in particular.

“Lunch is important, you know?”

Minjeong jumped at the sudden voice, her wide eyes snapping up to see Y/N standing in front of her, hands on her hips.

“Are you stalking me?” The words slipped from Minjeong’s mouth before she could stop herself.

Her heart pounded, anxiety clawing at her throat. She had no idea why Y/N was taking an interest in her—why she kept showing up, insisting on toying with her.

Y/N was surprised, to say the least.

Minjeong had some bite. It wasn’t what Y/N expected from the shy girl she’d met on the first day.

“I guess,” Y/N said with a soft hum, casually pulling a chair out and sitting beside her. She reached into her bag, pulling out the sandwich she hadn’t eaten earlier, and handed it to Minjeong. “Eat.”

Minjeong stared at the sandwich, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I already ate,” she said flatly, not reaching for it.

Y/N’s eyes flicked down to Minjeong’s half-open bag. An apple and a small carton of orange juice sat inside—it was all Minjeong ever brought, and she usually saved it for her late 10 PM class.

“No, you haven’t.”

Minjeong’s shoulders slumped slightly. Y/N was far more observant than she had anticipated.

Minjeong looked down at the sandwich again, conflicted. She wasn’t a fan of being told what to do, but Y/N had clearly gone out of her way to give it to her. Refusing would make her feel bad.

Slowly, she reached out and took the sandwich, giving a small nod.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” Y/N said casually.

It didn’t take long for Minjeong to finish it.

“So, what are you reading?” Y/N was usually good at making conversation, but with Minjeong, she couldn’t help feeling a little nervous.

Minjeong blinked, snapping out of her food-induced daze. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she finished the sandwich. Now that it was gone, her body slumped back in the chair, heavy with fatigue.

Her gaze shifted to the half-read book on the table, her fingers brushing over the cover. She avoided looking at Y/N, knowing how easily she got flustered.

“A book,” she responded plainly, hoping Y/N would get the hint.

Y/N nodded, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Very informative.”

Minjeong sighed, unable to come up with a retort. The silence between them grew, awkward and heavy. She wasn’t used to this—having someone like Y/N hover around her. They were opposites in almost every way, and Minjeong couldn’t fathom why Y/N was even there.

Her eyes lifted briefly from the book, just to check if Y/N was still looking. Their gazes met, and Minjeong’s breath caught. Her cheeks burned, and she quickly looked away quickly.

Y/N cleared her throat, the confidence in her voice softening. She fiddled with her fingers, her usual ease replaced with hesitation. “I’m... sorry about what happened. At your last school.”

Minjeong froze, her eyes widening. A lump formed in her throat as she tried to think of something to say.

She hadn’t expected an apology—least of all from Y/N. But even if she had, she wouldn’t have known how to respond.

Her body tensed, her knee bouncing beneath the table. “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy,” Y/N continued, her voice gentle. “Especially with all the idiots making fun of it.”

‘Cancer school.’

The cruel nickname flashed through Minjeong’s mind.

It wasn’t far from the truth.

Several students had suddenly passed away at her old school and it didn't take long for investigators to find out that the building materials used for the school were highly toxic—cancerous, in fact. Minjeong was one of the lucky ones, spared from any trouble. She had survived unscathed, physically at least, and had been granted a scholarship to transfer elsewhere—a quiet bribe to keep her mouth shut. 

Taeyu hadn’t been so lucky.

Minjeong’s hands trembled as the memories clawed their way to the surface. She had buried them so deeply, refusing to confront them, but they always left a bitter taste when they resurfaced.

She swallowed hard, her eyes darting around the library. Despite knowing Y/N’s words came from a place of kindness, Minjeong felt a pang of irritation.

“Thank you.” Her voice was hollow, mouth dry. She wanted to be anywhere but there. Her cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment, emotions she couldn’t quite control.

She stuffed her jacket into her bag, voice shaky as she muttered, “I appreciate it.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, alarm flashing across her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep—”

“Save it.” Minjeong snapped, cutting her off. She didn’t meet Y/N’s gaze as she shoved her things into her bag and walked away.

She wasn’t sure who she was angry at—Y/N, for bringing it up, or herself, for not being able to let it go.

The wound still felt raw. She wasn’t ready to face it, and all she wanted was to forget.

But after a few days, the sting of her reaction dulled and guilt creped in. 

Y/N had only been trying to be kind, and Minjeong had been rude.

After debating with herself for days, Minjeong decided to swallow her pride and apologise. 

Before one of their shared classes, Minjeong watched as Y/N walked into the room, making her way to her usual seat.

Now or never.

Her heart pounded as she stood, each step toward Y/N feeling heavier than the last. Minjeong didn’t want to be there, she didn’t want to apologize. Admitting she felt bad was almost worse than snapping in the first place.

But the guilt wouldn’t leave her alone, and she knew it wouldn’t until she said something.

“Y/N?”

Y/N looked up from her notebook, her face lighting up when she saw Minjeong. “There you are,” she said, rummaging through her bag. She pulled out a neatly wrapped sandwich—the same kind she’d given Minjeong in the library. “I’ve been eating these all week, and I hate cheese.”

Without hesitation, Y/N extended the sandwich toward Minjeong.

Minjeong stared at it, swallowing hard. She didn’t need pity or charity. That wasn’t why she’d come over.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you the other day,” she said, ignoring the food.

Y/N’s eyes softened, her expression gentle.

Minjeong forced herself to turn away, eager to retreat to her seat. Her conscience was clear now, and she didn’t owe Y/N anything more.

But before she could take another step, a hand caught her wrist.

Y/N’s touch was firm yet delicate, her grip just enough to stop Minjeong without making her feel trapped.

Minjeong turned slowly, pulse quickening as her eyes met Y/N’s.

Y/N smiled, her voice warm and sincere. “I’m the charity act here, not you.” She nodded toward the sandwich still in her hand. “I genuinely hate these sandwiches.”

Minjeong froze for a second... was she that easy to read?

"Why do you keep buying them then?" Minjeong asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Y/N shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm allergic to salmon, and they like to serve it at the cafeteria, so I bring it just in case."

A little white lie never hurt anyone, right?

But Minjeong was insistent, "I don't see how that's my problem."

"It's your problem because I want to get to know you," Y/N admitted without hesitation. "And the sandwich was just the perfect excuse for it."

Minjeong wanted to ask why Y/N didn't just buy something she actually liked, but she had a feeling Y/N would have an excuse for that too.

So, she sighed and finally took the food, giving a small nod.

"You're eating this if I ever see salmon being served at the cafeteria," Minjeong added.

Y/N smiled, her eyes lingering on Minjeong. "Deal."

Minjeong could feel her face heating up at how casually Y/N agreed to her request.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Even though she was still uncomfortable with how Y/N was so interested in her, she couldn’t deny that she was beginning to understand why everyone talked about her.

Y/N was kind, sweet, and charming. It was almost impossible to resist her, but Minjeong knew she had to keep her distance.

She kept her distance.

For a few hours.

Later that day, when Y/N asked her to go out for coffee, Minjeong found herself accepting the offer.

Just like she accepted Y/N’s offer to give her her number a few days later.

Minjeong had no control over it. She was just pulled in.

For a while, she tried to fight it, but in the end, she couldn’t.

It felt nice to be liked. Y/N would take her out for lunch and dinner whenever Minjeong was free, always doing whatever it took to make her feel special.

Minjeong hated how addictive it was, getting attention from someone like Y/N. It made it that much harder to ignore her growing attraction.

"We could go to your house, if you'd like?" Y/N asked, leaning against Minjeong’s desk, her eyes carefully gauging Minjeong’s reaction.

They had a group project to do, and thankfully, the teacher let them choose their own partners.

Minjeong shrugged, her eyes drawn to her notebook as she finished her exercise. "I don't know, honestly."

Y/N nodded, her eyes intense. "My house?"

Minjeong paused for a moment to consider the proposition. They’d gone out together before, hung out during breaks, and after school. But being in Y/N’s house felt somehow more personal.

She nodded slowly, “Yeah, sure.”

Y/N's eyes brightened up as a smile took over her face.

It still felt like a double-edged sword. Like Minjeong had a price to pay to be hanging out with Y/N.

"Cool, I'll wait for you by your locker at the end of the day."

Y/N started to walk away, but Minjeong reached out for her hand. "I only finish classes at 10 today."

They had been hanging out four two months by then, Y/N knew Minjeong's schedule by heart.

Y/N couldn’t stop herself. Before she knew what she was doing, she reached out and brushed a strand of Minjeong's hair behind her ear. "Don't worry about it."

By the time she reached her table, Y/N had already cursed herself out at least twenty times.

She needed to get a hold of herself.

Still, she couldn't help the excitement that took over her body. She was getting there. Slowly but surely, she was winning over Minjeong.

Y/N's classes ended at 5 PM that day, so she hung out around school while she waited. She went to the library, finished her homework, and even started on the group project. Who knows? Maybe if Minjeong saw that the project was well advanced, she'd agree to watch a movie. Or just talk.

By the time 10 PM came around, Y/N was wrapped up in her long coat, hands stuck in her pockets as she waited for Minjeong.

Minjeong arrived at 10:10, accompanied by a figure that had Y/N freezing up.

Jimin.

The student council president.

Her ex-girlfriend.

An ex-girlfriend that also seemed surprised at seeing Y/N.

"Oh, hi." Jimin tried to smile, turning to Minjeong with a gulp. "You didn't tell me your friend was her."

Minjeong stood there, hands in her hoodie pocket as she looked between Y/N and Jimin in confusion. "You two know each other?"

Jimin and Y/N's history was complicated, and Y/N hated thinking or talking about it. But it happened. She was her first love.

"Yeah," Jimin responded, her eyes glued on Y/N. "We were toge-"

"-It's a small school." Y/N barely looked back at Jimin. "Should we get going? It's a little late already."

Minjeong wasn't oblivious to the way Jimin and Y/N looked at each other. The air was thick with tension, and Y/N seemed oddly uncomfortable the whole time, her body language closed off.

Something was definitely going on, Minjeong couldn’t shake that feeling all the way to Y/N's house.

Once they reached their destination, Minjeong looked around curiously. Y/N didn’t mention that she was well off, but it was almost expected of her.

Popular girl at an elite school.

Minjeong wasn't surprised to be led to a mansion in Gangnam-gu.

It was lavish and spacious. Minjeong felt like she had to pay a tax just to look at the furniture.

"Your parents already sleeping?"

Y/N shook her head, leading the way upstairs to her room.

"My parents live in Dobong. I live with a few employees."

"Oh," Minjeong was surprised, but it seemed normal for Y/N. Was that a normal thing for rich people? "Why is that?"

Minjeong caught the way Y/N's shoulders tensed up for just a second. "For work."

She decided to not touch the subject again as they finally arrived at Y/N's room.

It was a tidy space. The bedroom was nice, cozy, and chic. Minjeong couldn’t help but wonder if it was even a room made for a teenager, though. It looked like the rooms Minjeong had seen at IKEA.

"I didn't know you were friends with Jimin," Y/N let out quietly, taking off her blazer and loosening her tie. She looked at Minjeong with soft but darker eyes than usual.

Minjeong was caught off guard, to say the least.

Her eyes followed Y/N's figure—she had never seen her without the blazer.

Y/N undid the top of her button-up shirt, and suddenly, Minjeong felt the need to look away.

"I- yeah. I eat and have a few classes with her sometimes. Met her on my first day at school."

Y/N nodded slowly, eyes following Minjeong as the short-haired girl looked around her room. 

She sat on her bed almost unmoving, back tensely upright. "Do you like her?"

Minjeong blinked at the question, her brain processing the words.

Did she like Jimin? She supposed she did. The other girl was nice and always helpful, plus she didn’t tease Minjeong about her past either.

She wasn't sure what prompted Y/N to ask, but Minjeong answered honestly.

"Yeah, she's nice. Why?"

"Nice in a way that makes you want to date her?"

The question had Minjeong's head snapping to Y/N, eyes wide.

"I- uh-" Minjeong swallowed hard, her cheeks heating up at the insinuation.

"We're just friends," she blurted out. "Why do you ask?"

Y/N let out a hum, eyes fixed on Minjeong, "Because I like you."

Minjeong's breath hitched when Y/N said those words. That was not what she’d been expecting to hear.

Her heart pounded in her ears, so loud it almost drowned out every other sound. She just stood there staring at Y/N, eyes wide.

After a few painfully silent moments, Minjeong found the voice to ask, "You what?"

Y/N looked down at her hands, fingers playing with each other as she gathered her words.

"I know we've only known each other for a few months, but I like you. I was wondering if you'd let me get to know you even better. Maybe get closer?"

"You...you want to date me?"

The words were barely a whisper, the disbelief evident in Minjeong's face and the way she looked at Y/N.

She was torn on what to say. Minjeong didn't want to get her hopes up again, but Y/N made her feel something.

Her body was screaming at her to say yes, but her mind was telling her to refuse.

Things had been awkward with Jimin. Minjeong was sure Y/N was hiding something from her. She was Y/N. No one like Y/N would ever want anything to do with Minjeong. There had to be another reason for all this.

Y/N smiled, "Well, yes, eventually. I'm not very traditional, but I would like to court you first, if you'd let me."

Minjeong's eyes dropped back down to her hands, her mind whirling with a multitude of possible outcomes.

What if it didn't work out? What if things exploded in their face and they couldn't even be friends anymore?

Did it matter?

It was just dating. It wasn't like Minjeong was agreeing to marry Y/N. If things went sideways, they could always break up and go back to being friends.

"I- could you give me a little time to think about it?"

Minjeong inwardly chastised herself as soon as the words escaped her mouth.

She had just rejected the most popular girl in school.

She had just rejected Y/N.

Well, sort of rejected, right?

Things weren't over. Minjeong just needed to think things over.

Y/N smiled as gently as always, "Of course. You have all the time in the world, Minjeong. I don't want to rush anything."

Minjeong felt like she could breathe so much easier after Y/N said that, as if a boulder had been lifted from her chest. She'd half expected Y/N to be mad or angry at her, but she was still smiling softly.

Not that Minjeong would know how to handle Y/N when she was angry. She couldn't even imagine it.

"Thank you," Minjeong whispered, her voice barely audible in Y/N's room but still loud enough to be heard. "I promise to get back to you soon."

It was Y/N's turn to feel her chest lightening up.

Things weren't ruined.

She hadn't ruined anything.

Minjeong just needed her time, and Y/N would give it to her.

She had been patient from the start, why wouldn't she be now?

"I appreciate that," Y/N patted the bed at her side. "Come here, let me show you the ideas I had for our project."

Minjeong didn't hesitate to indeed go sit by Y/N's side.

She still felt a little tense but it didn't take long for her to fully relax again.

After a good two hours of work, Minjeong turned around in Y/N's bed, eyes falling on a framed picture on the bedside table. It was Friday so they had all the time in the world to be lazy. Didn't matter how late it was. 

"You looked cute as a baby, you know?"

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, and she glanced at the direction Minjeong was staring.

There was a picture of her as a toddler, grinning at the camera with a cute and wide smile that showed off the four teeth she had at the time. At her sides stood her smiling parents.

"Oh," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper and a soft smile on her face as she looked at the picture. "Did I?"

She was feeling embarrassed that Minjeong was looking at it. "I don't have many pictures with them, so I keep that one there."

Minjeong nodded quietly, her eyes never leaving Y/N's framed picture. She looked a lot different now, but Minjeong supposed that was true for everyone.

"You looked adorable," she added softly, her eyes glued to the toddler in the photo. It was a little strange to think how much had changed in Y/N's life since then, but Minjeong didn't dwell on it much.

"Do you miss them?" She finally asked, tilting her head to the side slightly as her eyes turned to Y/N.

"Sometimes," Y/N shrugged. It's not like they were dead, she just didn't see them a lot. "It gets harder during the holidays. I was close to my mother, but she's been very... involved in my father's work, so yeah."

"That must be hard..." Minjeong sighed, her eyebrows furrowing in thought.

She couldn't fathom the idea of being away from her own parents.

Withdrawing her eyes from the picture frame, Minjeong scooted a little closer to Y/N. "You know," she spoke softly, "You can always come hang out at my house during the holidays."

"I couldn't possibly bother you... or your family," Y/N shook her head, a small smile rising to her face.

The truth was that Y/N didn't really have a family, and as cold and impersonal as her parents were, they had always given her everything she would need or ask for.

She couldn't complain about anything, but at the same time, she couldn't help but wonder sometimes what it would feel like to have a cozy, warm house instead of a huge empty mansion. Not having to eat alone during Christmas morning.

The idea of Y/N spending the holidays with her was a strange one. Minjeong was just starting to get used to the idea of dating. Her heart beat faster at the mere thought of bringing Y/N around her family.

She'd just have to talk to them first. It wouldn't be too hard, her mother had been asking about Y/N ever since Minjeong first brought her up.

But Minjeong didn't want to get ahead of herself. She was still trying to decide how to respond to Y/N's confession.

Still, she did feel good about the idea of having Y/N around.

"Are you kidding me? My parents would love you more than they love me. I can already picture them serving you first and leaving my siblings and I for last."

Y/N rolled her eyes softly, knowing that Minjeong was just teasing her.

"We'll see where things go and maybe I'll drop by to bring your parents a Christmas gift."

Christmas wasn't that far away, but Minjeong hadn't expected Y/N to even think about buying her family anything. She didn't even know them.

"Oh wow, you're getting my parents a gift but not me?"

A teasing smile appeared on Y/N's face, "They're the ones I want to impress."

Minjeong gasped at Y/N's teasing. She playfully hit the other girl, her own teasing smile on her face. "Are you saying my opinion doesn't matter?" she asked in mock hurt.

Minjeong couldn't deny that it did make her happy.

Y/N didn't have to like her family, but she was still going out of her way to do something nice. Minjeong appreciated it a lot, even if Y/N had a tendency to make her flustered.

"I'm saying their opinion matters more."

Minjeong laughed at that, her eyes crinkling up as she did. "I'm sure they'll like you as much as I do," she said sincerely without thinking about the words.

A beat after the words left her mouth, Minjeong froze. "I just mean..." She cleared her throat. "That you're cool and nice."

"Oh..." Y/N pretended to be flattered. "I'm cool and nice. Who would've thought?"

"I didn't realize you could make jokes," Minjeong shot back teasingly.

"Hilarious."

She liked this, the playful back and forth. She felt comfortable, talking about anything and everything with Y/N.

But there was always the hint in the back of her mind, telling her that there was more to it.

So, she decided to get to the end of the story and brought the topic up during lunch with Jimin, only a few days later. 

"So, what really happened between you and Y/N?"

That caught everyone's attention.

Ning was quick to gulp, eyes drawn on Jimin, and Yunjin almost spat her food out.

Minjeong wasn't expecting that reaction. 

Was the question that bad?

She hesitated, turning to Jimin with a look that screamed 'you don't have to answer if you don't want to'. 

After recollecting her thoughts, Jimin cleared her throat and spoke up. "We dated for two years. Broke up four months ago."

"They were like- the IT couple of the school. It was kind of funny." Ning shook her head, eyes soft and sad as she looked down at the table. 

The group missed Y/N, Aeri, and Chaewon. They had separated from each other after the breakup. Sides were taken. Mistakes were made.

Minjeong wasn’t sure what answer she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this.

Two years. That was a long time, longer than she had imagined. And the fact that they’d only broken up four months ago? It seemed...recent.

Minjeong felt her heart tighten as she listened intently to Jimin. She had a lot of questions, and now that the topic was brought up, might as well ask. "Why'd you two break up?"

The curiosity was getting the better of her. Minjeong had no intention whatsoever of being involved in a love triangle drama. That was the last thing she needed to be associated with.

"Well, I realised I just couldn't associate myself with people like her or her family. It was a moral thing." Jimin spoke about it in a light way, but something about her expression told Minjeong she was still grieving her relationship.

Minjeong nodded at the answer, unsure of how to respond. She glanced over at her friends seated around her, her gaze falling back on Jimin with an uneasy smile. "What's wrong with Y/N and her family?"

"You know, I didn't want to be the one telling you this, but I think it's only fair to you." Jimin sighed. She knew Minjeong went to Y/N's house the other day- being honest was the right thing to do. "Y/N's father is the mayor of Seoul. Those rumors about him being in charge of building your last school are true. Him and his family are just doing their very best to bury the scandal since he's going to run for presidency next year."

"My last school?" Minjeong's voice was soft, throat suddenly dry.

The cheaper but toxic materials used to build the school. The deaths of her friends. Taeyu.

That was all because of Y/N's father.

...and Y/N knew.

Y/N knew all along, didn't she?

All the attention.

All the gifts.

The stupid sandwiches Y/N gave her.

Y/N being nice to her when she didn’t really need to.

It all played back in her mind, over and over again.

Minjeong felt like the biggest fool in the world.

What was she?

Some sort of pity project to Y/N? Was she just being made fun of all along?

Her chest tightened painfully, and she felt the overwhelming need to get away.

Minjeong cleared her throat and stood up from her seat, her chair scraping against the floor. “Excuse me,” she said quietly. 

She didn’t wait for a response.