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.
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.”
pair. mechanic! chris x fem! reader genre. motel setting, romance, angst, smut warnings. use of pet names, flawed characters, smoking, explicit sexual content — read at your own discretion! word count. 3.7k
synopsis. fingers sink into the supple skin of your hip, the rest of him God knows where, impossible to tell as he ravages your sleek cunt, pistoling with the ferocity of a man unhinged, a man pathetic enough to think he can possibly carve a place for him inside of the body he wants to dominate more than anything else, against his greedy nature for the rest of the world and all it offers.
“I’m going to cut that motherfucker’s hands off next time he tries laying them on you.”
Chris was in deep shit.
Deep fucking shit.
You cross your arms over your chest, rubbing the skin, trying to keep warm. “You don’t have the balls.”
He smirks, chuckling to himself, and unlocks the door to his room for the time being, gesturing for you to get in first. “Watch it, angel. You might say something you’ll regret.”
You remain where you stand, stubborn as ever. Of course. Nothing’s ever easy when it comes to you, he should’ve known. So, why the fuck did he bring you here? What goddamn reason did he have for thinking you would, for once, once, do him the favor and comply with anything he requests of you?
Chris sighs. Drags a hand over his tired face, and scratches at his jaw, sensing his patience’s about to run out. Lucky for you. You’d probably love it. He thinks God must’ve put you on this Earth to get on his nerves and laugh mockingly as you watch him lose his fucking mind.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You prod, scoffing. Still not moving. “You get a hard-on every time someone tells you no.”
The mechanic growls, temper rising exponentially, and snatches you by the arm, shoving you through the door and locking it behind him, throwing the key haphazardly on top of the beaten down dresser with the cracked vanity and your lipstick stains from the previous night all over it. You don’t miss the way his biceps flex, all those delicious veins popping up the surface with the rough movement.
The one on his neck is constantly pulsing, angry and defined. You focus your gaze there, putting a hand on the bed’s mattress to keep from falling as you try to find your balance. Chris appears unbothered as he rids himself of the heavy biker jacket and rider boots. You contemplate pissing him off a bit more, just to get him where you really want him.
He really only ever chokes you out if you’ve crossed a line. You want him to go back to being familiar, to hatefuck you until you remember your place. You want to forget last night; how gentle his hands were, how softly he kissed you as he watched you two through the mirror, labored breath on your shoulder, fingers lightly wrapped around your bruised neck.
You didn’t want that—couldn’t want that. Violence is what you know. What you’re good at. Tenderness doesn’t last, it never does. Not with you. You’ll never deserve something like that.
Your hands move on their own accord, as you hear the click—four times—of his lighter. You smell the tobacco, see the smoke swirling and rising to the ceiling, with no escape.
He’s sitting on the rutty armchair by the TV, forearms propped on his knees, leaning forward, in nothing but a gray tank and unbuckled jeans, silver bracelet dangling as he taps his cigarette on an ashtray full of butts in front of him.
Your chest tightens at the sight of him. You bite your lip, and ignore the lump forming in your throat. You reach behind you to unhook the clasp of your bra.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He asks harshly, upon noticing your undressing.
He sounds exhausted. There’s a raw raspiness to his voice, hours of chain smoking and dealing with grease, yelling over loud motors, then cursing every fucker who dares harass you at the bar. You haven’t thanked him once for looking out for you in there. If it wasn’t for him, who knows what would’ve happened to you, where you’d be.
Chris has the annoying tendency to make you his business, to keep involving himself with you, and taking your bullshit in stride. A good man in an ocean of so many bad ones, and you’ve no idea how to treat him, what to do with him. So, you push him away, hope it’s enough, hope that someday he’ll prove you right and become just like the rest of them—that he’ll get sick of you, and—and dump you. Just like you deserve.
It’s been a year.
By everyone else’s definition but your own, you’re his girl.
You’re sick with emotion you’ve no name for.
“Are you going to fuck me or should I leave?” You ask, sounding bored, feeling terrified.
Being naked in front of him will never stop feeling like the very first time he ever saw you that way. Back then, he’d run a calloused hand over your thigh, all the way up to your breast, and then had proceeded to crush you to his chest and push his thick, hard cock inside you, in the gas station outside of town.
Other places—the women’s bathroom at the bar, the kitchens after hours, the back room of the auto repair shop, his car, his second car, the bike currently parked outside, the shower of the apartment you share with your coworker, up against the fridge, the balcony with the potted plants you forgot to water months ago—and all those times, in all those places and positions, and times . . . He never once looked away.
He faced you fully, unafraid, not as a problem, but as an answer, and perhaps he’d been waiting for you or you’d been waiting for him, because Chris has been the only man that’s ever willed to take you upon himself as he has. No one’s ever stayed this long and not ran for their lives at the first sign of crazy.
Which is what you are. What you offer to his humble responsibility and sense of duty.
He doesn’t answer for a long time, instead studying your body as if a map has unraveled in front of him, uncharted waters and unclaimed lands. All dips and dives and curves, rounded corners and mountain sides.
The tip of the stick in his mouth burns red, hands coming together, overworked fingers interweaving. Dark eyes obscured by even darker wispy locks, plump mouth set in a hard line, completely unreachable, impossible to read.
You’re defiant. You refuse to cave under the weight of that gaze. Why else would he bring you here at three in the morning? Why else would he sit on the bar counter nursing whiskey after whiskey, counting down the minutes till you closed so he can take you with him?
You’re not good at a lot of things.
“Do you want to leave?” He asks, finally, voice muffled around the cigarette. “Am I holding you from something?”
“Fuck you.”
He leans back on the chair, mansplaining, arms raised behind his head. The glint in his eye is mischievous, is teasing. You bite down on your tongue, and get on the bed on all fours, facing away from him, giving him a good view of what he could have if he quit fucking playing games—it works, you hear that sharp inhale you’d been looking for, the choking down, the teeth grinding—before you get comfortable on your knees, hands on your lap, turning back to face him properly, blinking innocently, stomach churning with anticipation.
“Maybe,” he contemplates. “Answer me, (Y/N).”
Your brows furrow. Was there an actual question? “Answer what?”
“If I don’t fuck you tonight, are you going to leave?”
Whatever had been building up inside you shrivels and dies. You freeze all over, a terrible shiver running from the top of your head down your spine. He cannot be serious. So many things bubble up to the top, words you’d never speak out loud; confessions and thoughts, pointless black prayers you’ve whispered in dark, empty rooms. None of it is the correct answer.
You don’t think you’ll ever be ready for what is the correct answer.
“Did you think I was going to stay?” You spew acid, instead, deflecting, refusing, ignoring.
Chris seems to have expected it. He smashes the butt on the ashtray and gets up slowly, running a hand through soft looking hair. You could’ve been tugging at it by now, following the snap of his hips as they dig into your sopping cunt, but instead, here you are, talking in riddles about complicated, stupid feelings that you’d rather never discuss, never bring up, ever again.
“Do you have to cuddle with me to have me now? Is that it? Have you gone soft, Chris?” You reach to grab your shirt from the foot of the bed, to get dressed as fast as you can, to leave this ridiculous room and this even more ridiculous man. “What are you going to say next—are you gonna domesticate me, too, perhaps, like a fucking cat? Would you like to make love to me, wash my hair and sing me lulla—”
It takes all but three strides to reach you. He has you on your feet in an instant, standing so tall in front of you you have to crane your neck, and even knowing this, you feel ashamed. His hands grab the sides of your face, burying into your hair, as he forces you to look into his bloodshot eyes.
Fully clothed to your embarrassing nakedness, and yet you feel the bulge in his pants as it brushes your lower stomach, ever growing and so very hard already. See, this is what we both know, you want to tell him, to scream at him. Why do you need to make it difficult? Can’t you tell I’m already yours?
“Do I?” He mumbles close to your lips, tobacco on his breath, his muscular scent enveloping you in blissful familiarity, the word home home home beating inside you loud and clear. “Do I, angel?” He repeats, searching for answers in your eyes, diving deeper, beneath your skin, to your heart.
“Do I have you?” As he presses his lips to yours, grabbing a fistful of your hair and holding you to him, your body turning liquid, pulverizing into a million tiny pieces begging to be found by him.
Your entire being is screaming for him, raging against the instinctual fear and the agonizing dread of being left alone after you’ve encountered something as forceful, as devastating, fucking obliterating as Chris, and what if he snatches it all away? What if he leaves you with nothing but the unbearable gaping hole you’ve made for him in your chest?
What he’s supposed to fill and fill—what if, one day, he chooses not to? What if he abandons the fortress, declares retreat? What if he never comes back? What then?
“Why can’t you just slip inside me and get lost?” You whisper in his ear, your hands on his massive shoulders, pulling down, wanting to fit as much of him as they can. “Why isn’t that good enough?”
His hands are on the move again traveling south—cupping your mound with one palm, cursing at the sensation of your hot pussy on his fingers. He presses one of them between your lips, feeling your slick, rubbing the bundle of nerves that sends you over the edge every time.
Your knees wobble. He keeps you steady, holds you around the waist. You let him suck on your neck, lick down to your collarbone, all the while his fingers work on you, juices making a mess on his jeans, a leg propped to keep your thighs open.
“You’re afraid, sweetheart,” he says hoarsely, taking your mouth in his again. You let him. You let him do everything. You moan and you writhe and you come apart, and he’s patient, so patient with you.
“Don’t know what the word means,” you retort, ever the hard headed woman he fell in love with.
He chuckles lowly, letting you unzip him, before throwing you on the bed, and climbing after you, his broad figure over yours, unspoken promises and so many fucking things he’s yet to do to you.
“Of course you don’t,” he says affectionately, staring into your soul. “Fear, commitment, obedience—lost fucking concepts.”
You hum, wiggling your hips so your cunt is level with his swollen erection. “Never stood a chance.” When you grab him in your hand, big, so, so big and ready for you, he hisses and clamps a hand over your wrist, stopping you.
“As much as I wanna bury myself into this tight little fucking pussy right now—” He brings that same hand that held his cock to his lips, kissing your open palm. You ogle, surprised, speechless. You’re leaking so bad you feel the covers soaking underneath you.
“Shut your mouth for a second,” he demands sharply, seeing you’re about to rebute. “I need to make fucking sure first—Do I have your full consent to try something new?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You groan, aching with how empty you are, as you try to grab hold of his dick and shove it inside you, to end your suffering. “Chris, are you fucking—we’ve screwed fifty ways into the sun, now’s your time for this?”
He says nothing. He waits with a pained look, a sort of self inflicted wound, like he’s the one scared, like he’s risking everything here.
“Yes,” you let up. “Okay, yes.”
“I love you.”
He might've as well slapped you. It would’ve had the same effect.
“What?”
“I love you.”
“Chris, this isn’t funny.”
“I love you.”
You’re drowning. You’re going down under, sinking, sinking, filling up with water, and your lungs aren’t working properly, and there’s a solid case of hysteria twisting in your gut, and you’re suddenly very, very afraid of letting it get out, because if it does—if you crack open and it explodes—it’s going to ruin the perfect fucking quiet around the words the man on top of you won’t stop saying.
What is it that he’s saying again?
You can’t hear over the liquid in your ears.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, grabbing you by the hair and smashing your foreheads together. “You hear me? Forget about it. You’re mine, and I’d fucking eviscerate for you, and you have me. All of me, angel.”
His tip teases your entrance and you buck into him, delirious for friction, delirious for anything other than words you’ve no idea what to do with, words you’ve never been good at. He kisses you roughly, and bites your bottom lip, your cheek, your ear.
“I’m a pain in the ass,” you say way too loudly, maybe, and it comes out high pitched and dismayed.
Chris, attuned to you and your needs, buries inside your cunt to the hilt with one swift movement and stays there, elbows digging into the mattress on either side of your face. He’s smirking, and it reminds you—you hate his stupid, handsome face. So much. So much you can’t live without it.
“Very,” he agrees, and one of his big hands reaches down to cup your ass, squeezing savagely.
“You hate my hotheadedness.”
He shakes his head, working you up to a quick pace, just how you like it.
“I’d be a terrible—girlfriend,” you force the word out like it burns you. “I’ll drive you up a wall.”
Chris smiles, and hushes you. “Already done that,” he murmurs softly. “I’m beyond myself.”
Oh. “Which is why you’re talking crazy! Look, I can’t—”
His mouth is on you before you can get anything else out. It stays on you for a long time, just as his cock plunders you, the taking savage, selfish, like this—you, you—should’ve been his from the very first moment, completely, thoroughly, unreservedly, because he swears, he fucking promises—as soon as you entered the threshold of his shop, a wild and panicked thing looking for a person—him, him—to assist you and your smoking car, so goddamn clueless about motor oil and antifreeze fluid and their part on keeping a vehicle running—he’d been irrevocably, stupidly yours.
And now, as you are, naked and arching, and moaning under him, lost to your pleasure, he understands why he brought you here. That night, and all the nights after. You’re in possession of so much more than you think, so much more than he’s willing to lay bare in front of you. Not only his heart, the foolish thing he wears on his sleeve and has given away so willingly time and time before, no. Something vital, something that beats inside him similar to the drumming of the bleeding muscle, but which has no name, no etymology, just a vast sense of dreadful blackness that fills him with terror as the truth grips him—there’s absolutely not a single fucking thing he would not do for you, for your safety.
The dark, and the buried. The voice that wraps his hand around your pretty neck and squeezes, the voice that tells him you can take it, the thing that drives him over the edge, the very thing that turned deadly earlier at the bar when that man wouldn’t take the fucking hint. All his mortal, destructive tendencies—they’re yours to do as you please, to pull and tug and maneuver. You have the shadows of his mind dancing to your whims, obeying you like a rotting dog would a master.
And you have no fucking idea, do you?
Fingers sink into the supple skin of your hip, the rest of him God knows where, impossible to tell as he ravages your sleek cunt, pistoling with the ferocity of a man unhinged, a man pathetic enough to think he can possibly carve a place for him inside of the body he wants to dominate more than anything else, against his greedy nature for the rest of the world and all it offers.
He’d rather stay here, in this ratty motel room, wasted on you, until he can remember nothing but your name and how good it feels on his lips.
“Chris . . .”
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles against your open mouth, a hand coming to push away strands of hair from your eyes, the touch raw, tender, like a self inflicted wound. “So damn beautiful . . .”
You meet him halfway, your face wide with a feeling that twists like a knife inside him.
He fucks you slow then, his cock moving torturously unhurried, deliberate, a sedation you can’t help but fall into, a lulling pace, something dangerously close to—
“I’m scared,” you let yourself admit, your forearm falling over your face, embarrassed, overflowing with dread for what you promised yourself you were never going to succumb to, the emotion red and pumping and terrifying, terrifying.
Chris grabs the arm obscuring you from him and pins it above your head, measuring you with steady eyes, determined to make you see, to make you understand.
“I know,” he says, and it sounds a lot like: me too.
There’s no stopping the tears now, and he won’t even give you a second, not a single moment—he’s still burying you alive, wrapping you in his scent and his words and his coffee eyes, warm warm warm, scalding, and your body betrays as it always does, because you—because it’s—
“You could hurt me,” you whisper. “You could hurt me really badly.”
“Never.” His arms wrap around your waist and bring you over him, on his lap, the change of position delightfully unbearable, his entire length so incredibly deep, so much deeper than before. “It took me a long time to find you, angel, to bring you here.” You move against him, falling against his shoulder, and he holds you, he lets you do whatever you want. “Never, you hear me? (Y/N) . . . fuck, baby.”
“I’d let you,” you continue, sadly. “I’d let you do anything.”
He shushes you, leaving a kiss on the top of your spine, and leans back on defined muscle, arms flexing under his weight. When he focuses on your body and how it arches on his dick, watching you ride him, swallowing him deep in your folds, grabbing onto his thighs for support—he loses it.
“You’ve no fucking clue how you look right now, baby girl . . . Fuck on me, c’mon, that’s it, that’s it, you’re almost there, let me see you . . .” There’s a high you’re chasing like no other—no one’s ever been able to give it to you like the man opposite you, coaching you to your release. It’s unbelievable how blind you’d been; to accept what he offers, meant accepting this too, letting it in, a flash flood endangering everything you’ve believed, tearing through and down your walls, demanding, never angry, yet somehow always horrific.
His rough hands grab your hips and slam you on his rock hard cock, determined to finish this, to show you there’s no room to regret, to backtrack and run off the minute it’s done—because you might, because he knows, because he’s not going to let it happen and you’re a little more grateful every time he meets your eye with glorious belief that this, you you you, can become something else, something more, something potentially wonderful.
If you let him. If you allow.
Nothing but your labored breathing and the sound of skin on skin, then—a growl, raspy and guttural, as his body stills and he shudders inside you, hot semen spilling down your thighs, where you meet. It’s hard to swallow but you manage, as your own heartbeat sounds erratic, your own release mixing with his, the smell musky and erotic. His chest collides with yours, sweaty, ripped, and you blush, despite yourself, refusing to curl in his arms how he wants you, how he’s trying to have you.
His mouth is everywhere, peppering open mouthed kisses on your shoulders, your neck, your hair, and his hands, that intoxicating touch that silences you every time, it climbs to your cheek turning your head so his lips can find yours. You try really hard to find it in yourself to stop acting like this; like you’re under his spell with no escape, but it’s a weak argument and an even weaker case.
Something changed. Something changed and you let it.
“I don’t have to hear it back,” he murmurs in your ear, content to just have you as close as possible, if you’re not willing to face him fully yet. “All I want is you.”
“You deserve better,” you argue numbly, staring at the point where he ends and you begin. “This is—”
“—whatever you want it to be,” he finishes for you, reassuring you.
You shake your head.
He sighs, patient.
“Got on your nerves already?” You ask, a bitter smile stretching your features.
Chris fists a handful of your hair and smashed his mouth on yours, rough and heated. You gasp into him and melt almost immediately.
“Every—single—day,” he rasps, in between breaths. “Fucking torment me,” and then, manners an afterthought, “Please.”
If i was smarter than i currently am, i would write a long and thoughtful passage about parallels between Caduceus and Fjord, the weight of responsibility on their shoulders, placed there from a very young age, about family (Via blood and otherwise) and its importance, involuntary loneliness and enduring hardship all by yourself, concluding with the fact that they discovered kinship and family within each other which is really no surprise after all. But sadly, i'm not, so for now i'm gonna lament amazing dynamic that they had, which seems to be lost and forgotten by most in favour of other more romance leaning relationships. A shame, really. Will always be one of my favourites, this one.
summary: when chan's friends decided to start a betting pool on how long it'd take him to lose his virginity at the start of college, none of them expected him to remain a virgin all the way to senior year. desperate to prove them wrong, chan goes to his best friend in hopes you'll take him out of his misery (and maybe fall for him in the process) OR when chan uses a stupid bet as an excuse to get his pretty bestie in his bed.
content: virgin!chan, f2l!chan, sub!chan, mutual pining, college au, chan is characterized as a fucking loser but what else is new, some will they wont they, the rest of svt bully chan, afab reader, smut, dry humping, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)
wc: 1.1k (teaser); 11k (full fic)
RELEASE DATE: november 18th
or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!
a/n: yet another loser!svt fic on the way. sorry<3
masterlist | patreon
"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not a virgin!"
— lied Chan for the nth time.
"It's been years and it's still not believable. Plus, Vernon told us you were whining about it at Soonie's party last Friday," responded Jeonghan nonchalantly.
"Vernon!", Chan turned to him, betrayal in his eyes.
His whines were only met with chuckles from all the other men surrounding him, most of which were nursing some different variant of an alcoholic beverage as they lounged around uselessly.
Most weekends were spent like this.
Chan had the misfortune of being the youngest in his large thirteen member friend group, one which was also well known throughout school due to a few of his friends' reputations. Chan, however, did not live up to that idea.
Unlike all his other friends, — well known to be either heartthrobs, or at least, you know, not virgins — Chan found himself as an outlier.
On the outside, he may have easily emulated that same popular and charismatic persona all his friends held and lived by, but he truly had no idea what he was doing. Sure, he knew himself to be likable and attractive (at least he liked to think so), but his sexual prowess was still very much below average (is anything lower than zero?).
Luckily for him, this was not known by anyone outside of his friend group. To everyone else, Chan was as pursued as his older friends such as Mingyu and Wonwoo, except it was all a lie.
Hell, even you, being his best friend since middle school, were blissfully unaware of his virginal state. And to be quite honest, this was something he wanted to keep that way.
You see, Chan had hopes of airing out his not-so-discreet crush on you one day ('maybe not today, but someday!', he'd tell himself). And the knowledge of him being a loser virgin would probably not help matters when that day came.
His virginity was such a hot topic among his friends that a running bet had tormented him since his first weekend at university. With all his friends being merely one year older, he was the victim of constant teasing as they watched him crash and burn any time a girl showed interest in him, only for him to psyche himself out of actually getting down to anything.
His constant failures only prompted more teasing throughout the years, especially in the form of Jeonghan and Seungkwan berating him about losing his virginity and confessing his pathetic crush on you. Sometimes Dokyeom and Mingyu would join in, insisting he could kill two birds with one stone if he'd only play his cards right.
The mere thought never failed to make Chan blush. To think of you in that context always had a physical effect on him. His palms would become clammy, his face would redden, and sadly, his hardness would make an appearance.
But he'd be lying if he hadn't wanted to will the thought into existence.
The two of you never really spoke about such things, but he was still painfully aware of how opposite of him you were in that aspect. It was no secret to him that your virginity was long gone. To his knowledge, you'd spent your freshman and sophomore years basking in all the attention you received, landing in a few beds in the process. You had this charisma that Chan envied (and was simultaneously extremely attracted to). In your junior year, however, you'd calmed down a bit, spending your Fridays nights cuddled up with Chan in the corner of one of his friends' frat parties rather than out on your own.
"Okay, so are you giving up? You're losing the bet?," Jeonghan piled on, calling Chan's attention away from his internal monologue.
"Giving up on what! I never participated on that bet. You guys came up with it to bully me!," he responded, exasperated.
Joshua rounded the couch to take a seat on the arm of it, patting Chan's shoulder condescendingly as he sipped at his beer with a chuckle.
"We could set you up with someone, you know?", he suggested, knowing Chan would deny his suggestion but trying anyways.
"N-no. I don't want someone to fuck me out of pity," Chan grumbled.
"And that'd be cheating. We're not supposed to help him," added Vernon.
"You guys made up rules?!"
"Shh. The adults are talking," tsk'd Seungkwan.
"You're still a junior. You have time to lose it before graduating still," aided Wonwoo from his side of the room.
"We decided against that. It has to be before we graduate or else it doesn't count," said one of the many seniors in the room.
"Okay, maybe queue me in on the rules if I'm going to be the main character of this bet, guys," grumbled Chan, giving up.
"That's still four months til graduation, Channie. C'mon, it'll be good for you. Maybe you can find a girlfriend and then you won't be all alone after we graduate."
"Yeah, man. Why do you have no friends your own age?" poked Mingyu, chuckling along with the rest of the seniors currently picking at a defeated Chan.
"It looks like I have no friends at all."
Vernon laughed, getting up to sit next to a slumped-back Chan, completely defeated on the couch. He patted his back, though unlike Joshua, he seemed to do it in solidarity.
"Listen, man. Just ask Y/N out. She likes you. We all see it. Just be a man and ask her out. We've told you before — two birds, one stone," encouraged Vernon.
Chan sat back up at the mention of your name, now having you back in his mind.
Should he?
Should he throw all caution to the wind and go on a limb? He'd sensed some more-than-friends vibes from you before, but he'd never been sure enough to actually try and go after you.
Annoyed and confused, Chan stood up with a huff, heading for the door before turning around to grumble at his friends.
"You all suck!," he began his tipsy rant, "I'm going to go out there and prove you all wrong. I'm going to lose my virginity ten times harder than any of you ever did," he declared, his intoxicated brain not realizing he wasn't making much sense, "And then you'll all owe me that stupid betting pool. You'll see," he went to point at Jeonghan, "Specially you!"
Jeonghan gaped at him in amusement, which only provoked further laughter from all the drunk men who had already been laughing at a pent-up Chan. Chan made his exit with this last statement, annoyed enough to disavow his friends for the rest of the night.
Still tipsy and with frustration charging through his veins, Chan made his decision. He knew his next destination for the night and marched there decisively.
...
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“You said you weren’t drinking tonight,” Chan says with a smile, his eyes half-lidded, as he lies back on the rug, his hands folded over his broad chest.
“You said you weren’t, either,” you retort, chuckling lightly, as you lie parallel beside him, too.
“Then I guess we both can’t keep our promises.”
A silence fills the room as the fireplace crackles in front of you both, the warmth wafting through the room and draping over your languid bodies. It’s not often you get drunk with your best friend like this, but on a Friday night when it’s pouring outside, it’s easy to get carried away after just a few sips of wine.
“I need to go home,” you say finally, though you make no effort to rise from your spot on the rug.
“In the rain?” Chan muses, chuckling lightly. “Yeah, right. As if I’d let you drive home like this.”
“Then I’ll call a cab.”
“Just sleep here. The fire’s already on, and it’s late.”
He keeps his eyes shut, a small smile on his face still, as another silence overtakes you both.
Chan’s chest rises and falls with every heavy breath, his tipsy state failing to coax a proper sentence out of him. And then he begins to say something, swiftly cut off by your interjecting speech.
“Maybe I’ll just call Changbin,” you say finally. You ponder briefly what your friends with benefits arrangement is up to tonight- probably out at a club, or at some raging house party. But realistically, never busy enough for a quick fuck.
“Why?” Chan queries, opening his eyes to glance at your lying figure now. You don’t meet his gaze, keeping your hands crossed over your chest still, as you stare at the ceiling.
“He asked me to call him. Said he wanted to catch up.”
“Yeah, or just wants a quick fuck,” Chan states boldly. “He’s not really the listening type.”
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at the way Chan speaks of his friend, sitting up to meet his gaze at last.
“He’s a great listener, actually. And you know that, being his best friend and all.”
“My bad,” he scoffs. “He’s probably real good when his dick’s inside you.”
He looks visibly bothered now, one hand toying with a loose thread on the rug, as he averts your gaze entirely. He bites his tongue from saying more, though he’s also pleased at the prospect of finally saying what he’s always wanted to.
“What- why would you say that? What’s gotten into you?”
“He uses you for sex, and he doesn’t give a shit about you. Don’t call him.”
“Then what do you suggest I do?”
“Stay here.”
“I’m not really keen on staying here considering you’re being a total jerk. I’m heading out, I’ll catch you later.”
Chan sits up fully now, feeling sobered up at the thought of you leaving when you’re already this angry with him.
“Don’t go,” he pleads, his eyebrows arching up in desperation. “I’m sorry. I’m just drunk. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was stupid.”
“Why would you even say that?” You ask, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “You’re never this mean when you’re drunk. Changbin does care about me.”
“Yeah, and so do I,” he protests.
“Well you sure don’t act like it.”
“Maybe I’m just trying not to make things so painfully obvious.”
“Make what obvious?”
“That I like you,” Chan says finally, exhaling frustratedly. He shakes his head, immediately regretting the words as they escape his lips, and then he shrugs when he catches your gaze again.
“Happy?” He questions. “I like you. And that’s why I can’t stand that you’re fucking my best friend these days. That’s why I wanted you to stay. But it’s no use when you’re this oblivious. Leave if you want to, I don’t care anymore. Just don’t make me spell it out again.”
Chan crosses his arms over his knees, pulling them in against his chest, as he keeps his gaze on the fireplace. He watches as the flames rise up to emit little sparks from their light, crackling amidst the deafening silence between the two of you. Your gaze falls to the fire, too, observing the way it seems to burn much brighter than it had before. And then you take a sharp breath, before speaking again.
“You like me?”
Chan scoffs.
“Yeah, I just told you. And all you ever do is talk about Changbin, and how he-”
“You’re drunk,” you tell him. Chan chuckles lightly at your statement, nodding in the direction of his glass of wine.
“I’m a little drunk,” he says. “But also more sober than I was an hour ago. And my feelings were the same then, and they’re the same now. They’ve been the same for five years now.”
You finally turn to look at him, admiring the strands of hair that hang loosely in his face, as he keeps his head hung in shame.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“And risk being embarrassed? I’d take the repressed feelings over that any day.”
He stares back into the fire, shrugging casually. “Though I guess it’s a little late for that now.”
“It’s not late,” you say quickly, your lips pulling into a smile. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, because I like you, too. And I thought… maybe the feelings would lessen, if I put myself out there more.”
Chan finally turns to look at you, a shocked expression on his face, as he makes sense of your words.
“You… do?”
“I did,” you correct him. His shoulders slouch visibly, and he nods in understanding.
“But the feelings were the same when I was with Changbin, and they’re the same now. And they’ve been the same for several years now.”
Chan smiles now, letting out a nervous laugh, and then his expression softens.
“What now?” He asks. The fireplace glows upon his chiseled face, glimmering in his dark pupils, as he awaits a response. You take notice of the way a flustered blush creeps upon his cheeks, and you’re not certain you’ve ever seen him so shy before.
It’s not a question that prompts a reply from you, as you scoot a little closer to him, and opt to kiss him instead. Chan is taken aback by the action, momentarily forgetting to shut his eyes when you finally press your lips to his. But when he finally does, his hands unclasp from around his knees, shifting his body closer to you as he reciprocates with eager passion, a clear indication of how badly he’s wanted this.
A gasp escapes from your lips when Chan reaches forward to shrug your sweater off your body and onto the rug below you, his hands now snaking their way to your waist and pulling you onto his lap. He caresses the small of your back in circular motions as he resumes kissing you, his actions quickly turning more desperate when you snake your hands underneath his t-shirt to graze over his chiseled abs. Chan can feel his stomach tense at the contact, growing hard when you shift lower to touch just above the waistband of his jeans, and then he overtakes you with his muscular build, pushing you back to the floor as he hovers over you, his kisses working down to your neck and jawline. It’s an unspoken, yet mutual agreement that’s about to unfold between the two of you- and by the way your body shivers underneath his touch, you’re certain that you’ve wanted this a long time, too.
“Is this okay?” Chan asks when he pulls away momentarily to gauge your reaction. You nod eagerly, and Chan proceeds to cross his arms over his torso to pull his t-shirt off over his head, discarding it beside him and meeting your lips once more. His kisses grow hungrier, needier, as you arch up into him, and then you pull your own shirt off over your head, parting from him momentarily to discard it along with his.
Chan wastes no time burying his face into the crook of your neck, taking your flesh between his teeth to leave a generous trail of bruises. He makes them dark enough so that Changbin will be sure to see them- and so that he’ll have some way of knowing this isn’t just a dream when it’s all over.
“Chan,” you breathe out, tangling your fingers in his hair as he resumes leaving hickies.
“Yes, baby,” he responds, and your heart skips a beat at the utterance of a pet name.
“Go slow,” you then ask, and he pauses to meet your gaze. “I want it to last.”
Chan chuckles at your request, tugging his pants down in tandem with his boxers, as he finally frees his throbbing erection. You undress your lower half, too, snaking your panties down and allowing them to pool around your ankles, and then he grips the base of his cock, holding it steadily against you, as he comes down to kiss you once more.
“I don’t know that I’m gonna be able to go slow with you,” he says with a smile. “But we can go as many times as you’d like.”
When he finishes speaking, he glances down at where his tip rests against your wetness, positioning himself before steadying himself with one hand on the floor beside you.
“Ready?” He asks. And when you nod, taking your lower lip between your teeth as he finally slides in, you let out an involuntary moan when he’s finally inside you.
He’s bigger than you’d expected, and more vocal, a series of grunts escaping his lips as he pushes himself inside of you. He starts off at a slow pace like you’d asked, pulling himself away from you to then rut his hips against yours, as he indulges you in a sweet kiss. But he’s quickly overtaken with pleasure, intoxicated in the sensation of your pussy taking him with complete ease.
“Fucking hell,” Chan remarks, slowing his pace to graze his lips over yours. He doesn’t kiss you, simply letting his mouth hang agape over yours, heavy breaths swirling against yours with every thrust.
As he thrusts into you a little slower now, his hands find your bra, skillfully unclasping it with one hand and allowing it to fall limply at your sides.
He smirks when he catches sight of your nipples completely erect for him, your breasts bouncing gracefully with every push of his hips. His lips trail down to your throat, tracing the goosebumps along your flesh with the flicker of his tongue. And then he lowers his head to your left breast, taking your mound in his mouth, as his lips come to a point around your nipple. Chan’s tongue swirls around your breast as he fucks you, his hands coming around the small of your back to arch your figure further up into him. And you gasp in pleasure at the sensation, your eyebrows arching up in pleasure much like the rest of your delicate figure, as he quickens his pace again. He doesn’t cease producing a symphony of satisfied groans, throbbing inside of you with every clench of your cunt around him.
“Changbin can’t fuck you like this,” Chan states, earning a groan from you.
“You’re still jealous,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I prefer possessive,” He corrects you, picking up the pace as he grazes his lips over yours. You can still taste the faint flavor of beer on his tongue as he swirls it around yours, coming down to take your right breast in his mouth now.
“You don’t know how long I dreamt of this, baby.”
He places repeated, open-mouthed kisses along your sternum, and then he meets your lips again.
“Say I’m better than him,” he commands, before pushing into you with a particularly harsh thrust. You begin to tease him for it, but your nails dig into his flesh when he pushes into you with another harsh thrust, earning a fervent moan from you.
“Say it,” he says again, and you shut your eyes, eyebrows arching up in pleasure to trail your fingertips over his back.
“You’re better than him,” you say finally, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Yeah?” He says for the second time this evening, and you nod eagerly.
“He could never fuck me like this. I waited so long, too. For this. For you.”
It’s your words that assist Chan in reaching his release, a stifled groan emitting from the back of his throat as he pushes into you one last time to fill you with his hot load, his mouth hanging open in a blissful state of euphoria as he feels his fluids leak out of you.
It doesn’t take long for you to follow suit, legs remaining wrapped around his waist, as you clench around him rhythmically and let out a series of pornographic moans. And when Chan begins to slow his breathing, your shared fluids finding purchase on the rug beneath you, he hangs his head over yours, his lips pulling into a tired smile.
“Stay here,” he pleads, placing a series of kisses along your jawline. “Don’t call Changbin.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you tell him, smiling up at him, fingers tangling in his hair as he kisses you.
The fireplace sets his tanned skin aglow, a sheen layer of sweat on his forehead as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. And all that can be heard are the crackles of the now-dying fire, as he trails kisses further down your chest, already anticipating a second round.
Tags: fluff, first meeting, first kiss, strangers to lovers
Summary: When the power goes out while you’re in an ATM vestibule, you come to realize you’re stuck inside until the police come to open the door. But there’s one problem, you don’t speak a lick of Korean, and the man inside doesn’t seem to speak an ounce of English.
———
A/N: Please note that sentences that are Italicized are meant to be in Korean and sentences that are regular text are in English.
‘How are you?’ - English
‘I’m fine thank you, and you?’ - Korean
—————————————————————————
Luck was not on your side today.
It’s not like you’re an unlucky person as a whole, no, that’s not it. Today was just one of those days that when you say ‘How could this get any worse?’, the universe takes it as a challenge.
Perhaps you should’ve just kept your mouth shut after you spilled coffee on your blouse this morning. But, you’ve always been such a ‘glass-half-full’ sort of person that you tried to take every inconvenience in stride. Everyone has their limit, though.
Before you came here on a business trip, you had heard about the Korean Monsoon season.
Everyone and their mother told you about how much it would pour, how it would feel like the skies suddenly opened up. But, you didn’t take anyone’s warning seriously. You would wave them off with a scoff.
“It’s just rain,” you thought. “How bad could it be?”
You’re eating those words now as you run through the streets in your nice, newly-soaked, professional heels. Your slacks are sticking to your legs, making the fabric ten times heavier. With your bag held over your head, you look around frantically for the bank.
It doesn’t help that it’s close to 10 PM and visibility is already horrible at this time. Yes, you should have gone earlier, but you were distracted!
Where is it? Where is it?
There!
You spot the glass doors and practically sprint up to them, grab the handle, and rip the door open.
A giant sigh of relief comes out of your lips as you step inside the tiny vestibule.
The only other man inside the place jumps a bit at your noise. He glances over his shoulder at you, but immediately turns back to what he’s doing at the ATM. You pay him no mind as you shake the rainwater off of your bag.
It’s after hours at the bank, meaning the only thing open and available is one ATM inside the room between the bank itself and the streets of Seoul.
Soft beeping comes from the ATM as the other man presses a few buttons. There’s an umbrella on the floor at his feet.
After brushing the water off your jacket, you bring your bag in front of you and start fishing out your card. Countless items inside your bag are now completely soaked.
Ugh, there goes all those business cards you collected at the meeting. Most of the ink is bleeding off the cardstock. Maybe, if you try really hard, you can make out the phone numbers on the cards.
Is that a 6 or an 8?
Or maybe the email addresses will be easier to understand. Surely, it just their names and their company’s–
There’s a bright flash of lightning followed immediately by a booming clap of thunder at the same time the lights in the ATM vestibule flicker and go out completely.
You fight the yelp that bubbles in your throat. The man in front of you seems to lose the fight against his reactions and lets out a tiny yip.
His shoulders come up and he seems to bristle like a cat.
“You’re kidding,” you mumble, looking up at the lights. It was almost pitch black inside now, save for the tiny emergency lights that kick on on either side of the glowing Exit sign.
The man lets out a grumble and a sigh.
You look over and see that the ATM has completely shut off. Figures.
The storm must’ve triggered some sort of power outage. Great. Now you’ll have to find some other ATM.
Why, oh why, did the restaurant that your boss wanted to take you to tomorrow morning have to be cash only?
Whatever, there should be a bank a few blocks from here.
Your heels click on the tile as you make your way to the door. When you grab the handle and pull, it doesn’t budge.
There’s a beat.
You try again, really putting your back into it this time.
“Am I stupid or what?” you whisper to yourself, trying the other door and pulling equally as hard.
“They’re not going to open,” the man behind you says. “The fail-safe locks probably kicked in once the power went out. It’s a security measure.”
You turn around and look at him with a blank look on your face. “Oh, ah, um… s-sorry, no… no Korean.”
The man blinks at you. “You don’t speak Korean?”
You blink right back at him. “Um…” All you can do is shake your head with wide eyes and a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry,” you repeat.
Another series of blinks are exchanged.
“No… Korean?” he asks slowly. His English sounds so unsure.
You nod. “No… no Korean.”
A tiny, exasperated sigh comes from his lips and he looks around, as if anything inside this tiny little room would be able to help him communicate with you. Meanwhile, you turn back to the door and give it another sharp tug to no avail.
“No,” he says firmly, drawing your attention back to him. He motions down to the door handles and then shakes his head.
“No?” you repeat, a bit confused.
“No.”
Honestly, the primitive conversation between the two of you would be somewhat laughable if you didn’t feel frustrated beyond belief.
“Why?” you ask, becoming annoyed. Obviously, he knows something that you don’t.
The man blinks at you and shifts around nervously on his feet. His hands motion around as he tries to conjure up a sentence in English. “N… No. Closed?... Closed.” He nods, saying the word rather confidently.
Yes, you know the door is closed. But, why?
After a second, he sees that whatever he said evidently isn’t good enough, so he points back to the ATM, to the light that is now off due to no power, and then to the locks. You follow his pointing and the cogs in your brain start turning slowly.
“Fail-safe locks,” you state and then finally release the door handles.
“Fail… Fail-safe locks,” he repeats slowly. “Fail-safe locks.”
“Fail-safe locks?” you parrot his Korean back to him and he nods.
A small hum comes from your chest and you take a step back from the door finally. “How long do you think–” you cut yourself off when you look over at him. The man is staring at you, not following a word you’re saying.
Your hand comes up and you brush some wet hair off your forehead and then scratch the back of your head as a nervous tick. There’s no point in even asking the question, he won’t be able to understand anything you’re saying.
If you were in his shoes, you’d probably be a bit annoyed too. But at the same time, he’s already been kinder than most would be in this situation.
He’s locked in an ATM vestibule with someone who doesn’t speak the same language as him– in his own country. He’s been more than kind. Most people would just wave you off and forget trying to communicate at all.
But here he was, talking slowly and making sure you can understand what he’s saying. He’s going so far as to point around the room to make sure you understand.
The man notices you give up and he lets out a tiny sigh, turning to then peer out the glass doors at the streets of Seoul. There’s basically no one out there, everyone has taken shelter from the squall.
“We’ll have to wait until the police come to open the door.” He pats at his pockets, searching for his phone.
Even with how terrible your Korean is, you still pick up on a few words. “Police?” A beat. “Police?”
“Yes,” he answers in English, taking his phone out and tapping the screen a few times before holding it up to his ear. The man continues to look through the glass doors, watching all the different cars drive by, none of them police cars.
You decide to turn around, walking around the tiny room.
All of the lights are off except for the emergency lights. They cast a dull glow through the entirety of the vestibule. There's barely enough light to see from one side of the room to the other.
Rain starts hammering against the glass as the man speaks into his phone. “Yes, hi, hello. I am currently trapped with another woman inside the ATM vestibule of Metrobank Seoul… Namdaemunno… Yes, that one.”
Your ears perk up when he mentions the name of the bank and the address. Ah, he must have called the police. His face pulls into a slightly annoyed look, but he doesn’t speak with a hint of it through the phone, at least, not that you’re really able to tell.
The man says a few more words into the phone before he hangs up with a sigh. He runs a hand through his hair and then down his face in an exasperated fashion before turning to look at you. His mouth opens to say something, but he thinks better of it and he grimaces even more.
Your own features pull into a sympathetic expression and you look away, slightly embarrassed. Should you have learned more of the language before coming here? Absolutely. But at the same time, you didn’t have much time to prepare once you were told you had to travel here for business.
He shuffles from foot to foot and looks around, shoving his hands in his pockets and desperately trying to remember every English class he took in school.
“Police…” he says slowly, thinking through every word he wants to try and say. “Police are… busy.”
“Busy?”
“Yes. Busy. Busy with… car…” He brings both of his hands together and claps and then makes an explosion noise with his hands.
“A car accident?”
He snaps his fingers and points to you, as if you’re a team during a game of charades.
“Car accident,” he says in Korean.
“Car accident,” you repeat and he nods.
Despite the reality of the situation, you smile. The humor in all of this does not escape you. You decide to try and meet him halfway, even with your butchered pronunciation.
“Police… time… long?” Your head cocks to the side and you point to your watch. He shakes his head and shrugs in exaggerated movements.
Scoffing, you roll your eyes. The accident was that bad, huh? No wonder the power went out then, the car must have smashed into electrical lines after that loud clap of thunder. This probably means all of the traffic lights and such are out too.
The police are most likely directing traffic and making sure no one gets injured; two idiots stranded in an ATM vestibule are the least of their concerns. Honestly, you can’t be in a safer place. Well, unless this guy is a murderer, but you haven’t gotten a harsh vibe yet.
You sigh and lean against the wall near the corner across from the ATM. Your body slides down to the floor and you stare straight ahead. It seems like you’re going to be in here for a while then.
The man takes one last look outside the doors before walking in your direction. He leans against the adjacent wall and takes a seat on the floor with you. His shoes almost touch the side of yours. It’s at this time that you let yourself take a moment to really look at him.
He has to be around your age; older than a college graduate but younger than someone settled into their career. Something that definitely doesn’t escape your attention is how… pretty he is. His skin is near perfect and so is his hair. Everything, down to the clothes he’s wearing, is absolutely flawless– and he’s only in sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie!
Next to him, especially in your current drowned rat state, you probably look like something worse than a hot mess. You quickly comb your hair off your forehead once more and pull at your soaking wet clothes sticking to your skin.
The man’s lips purse for a moment and he opens his mouth as if to say something, then promptly stops, opting for a grumble of frustration.
After a moment, an idea flickers through your mind and you hold up one finger to him to say ‘one moment’. You reach down into your pocket for your phone and take it out, tapping at a few screens and bringing up the Translate app.
‘What’s your name?’ you type into the phone and it immediately translates it into Korean below it. You turn your phone around and hold it up to him.
The man looks at you, then your phone, and his eyes light up. If you’re not mistaken, you even see a little bit of relief flash over his features. A tiny smirk pulls at one corner of his lips before he looks back at you.
“Minho,” he answers and motions to you.
“Y/N,” you reply. “Nice to meet you, Minho.” You hold your hand out for a handshake.
Minho looks at your hand and his smirk gets wider before he grabs your hand and shakes it gently. The skin on his palm is so soft. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”
After shaking his hand, you bring your phone back up to your face and type another sentence into the translate app.
‘I’m very sorry for not knowing Korean, I’m here on business.’
Minho looks at your phone, reading the statement before shaking his head and pulling out his own phone. He types away and then holds it up for you to read.
‘No need to apologize. With my line of work, my English should be better. It’s a very hard language to learn.’
A little laugh huffs from your nose and you nod and type.
‘Try learning Korean.’
Minho laughs with you and his smirk grows into a playful smile. Jesus Christ, this man is gorgeous. He looks down and taps a bit on his phone and then he holds it up to you. With the way his smirk pulls at his lips, it almost reminds you of a devious little cat.
‘I could tell you were a foreigner when you first came into the bank.’
Your eyebrow raises. “Oh, really?”
He’s chuckling when he brings his phone back to type more and then hold it up for you to read.
‘You don’t have an umbrella.’
Laughter leaves your lips when you read that and your head tilts back to rest against the wall. The wetness from your clothes is beginning to seep into your bones. Plus, the feeling of the fabric sticking to your skin is starting to become overstimulating.
But, you try and keep it together. You don’t really have another option at the moment.
You type a message back to Minho.
‘People tried to warn me about the Monsoon Season. As you can see, I didn’t listen.’
He reads your message and sucks his teeth with a smirk. Minho shakes his head and motions to the glass doors, as if to say ‘Look!’.
“I know, I know!” you laugh and look outside at the sheets of rain pouring from the sky. Puddles have turned into small ravines flowing down the sides of the road. Any car that passes by creates a huge splash as they pass through them.
Every once in a while, the sky will light up and thunder will follow it quickly.
Minho laughs with you. “Next time… you listen.” He nudges your leg with his foot.
You look over at him. “I will, trust me.”
A long look is shared between the two of you. There’s this tiny nagging feeling at the back of your mind, it’s that same feeling you get when you see someone in public that you swear you’ve seen before. Maybe he just has one of those faces?
No, you definitely haven’t met him before. You would remember if he was someone you shook hands with in the last few days. A man that gorgeous would never slip under your radar, you’re certain.
Minho stares back at you, eyes flitting about at your soaking wet hair matting to your skin. It looks like his one hand twitches for a moment and then he shifts in his seat.
Back to the app.
The two of you type away on your phones and hold them up at the same time with the exact same question on them.
‘What do you do for work?’
‘What do you do for work?’
Again, the two of you let out little huffs of laughter and he motions to you as if to tell you to go first.
So you do, you type down on your phone a little answer for him.
‘Right now, I’m only the assistant to a CEO for a huge company. Wherever he goes, I go. I write all his contracts; everything he does goes through me first. I’m more of an administrator than an assistant, though.’
Minho reads your answer carefully and then types out a small response with a tiny crease in between his brows.
‘Why do you say ‘right now’?’
A sad smile spreads on your face as you look down at your phone to type out a response.
‘I studied hard and have a Mathematics degree. But no matter where I apply, they say I don’t have enough experience. Back in America, the job market is absolutely horrible. So, I’m stuck.’
Minho’s eyes scan through your message and a frown pulls at his lips. He looks back up at you, meeting your eyes and then back to your phone before he begins to type his own message.
Your silent communication warms your heart a little bit. The glow from his phone lights up his features and you study him carefully. His teeth poke out from his top lip– it’s absolutely adorable.
He seems to think for a long moment before his thumbs fly over his screen.
Rain is coming down in sheets outside the door, it’s the only other sound inside the room besides the light clicking of the haptics on his phone.
You reach back and once more run your fingers through your hair– it seems to be drying now, but not in a good way. The humidity of the rain is apparent in the way it's starting to frizz up.
Minho turns his phone around after a moment of typing.
‘I’ve heard about how hard it is to get a job in America, I’m very sorry it’s so unfair. For what it’s worth, I think there’s nothing wrong with the job you have now. Hard work is hard work no matter if it's an assistant or a scientist.’
His words strike a chord within your heart, they tug at your chest and at the corner of your lips which twitch into a wistful smile on your face.
“Thank you,” you say to him in Korean, looking directly into his eyes. Minho smiles back at you when he hears it.
“You are welcome,” he answers in English.
His smile seems so warm for a stranger. He looks at you as if you’re an old friend, not like a woman, still soaking wet from the rain, sitting on the floor with him inside an ATM vestibule. He’s so genuine.
After a few seconds of just looking at him, you bring your phone up to type once more.
‘Your turn. What do you do?’
Minho stares at your phone for a long time, seemingly reading the sentence over and over again. His bottom lip pulls between his teeth and he seems to weigh something in his mind.
His brown eyes flick to yours, then back to the phone, then back to you again before he looks down at his phone.
You never realized how much just body language alone can convey.
He types slower, his thumbs not moving as quickly as before. Why does he seem so apprehensive?
Eventually, he turns the phone around.
‘I’m an idol.’
“Oh,” you say softly. Your shoulders shrug a bit and you cock your head to the side. “Like a K-pop idol?”
Minho nods in response. “Stray Kids.”
The name rings a bell, it’s just one you’ve heard floating around for a few months now. You think one of your friends is into them, but you can’t remember. She’s into so many different groups, it’s hard to keep track anymore.
You type in your phone.
‘I’ve heard the name before. Weren’t you guys at the MET Gala?’
With a breathy chuckle, he nods. A smile spreads across your face.
‘Wow, I’m trapped in a room with a celebrity then. You know, people write stories like this.’
Your joke definitely lands because he snorts a huff of laughter as you type on your phone a little bit more after that.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t take pictures and post them all over Twitter or anything. This will just be a funny story for me to tell my friends when I get back home to America.’
“Thank you,” Minho says softly with genuine gratitude in his voice. God, you can’t even imagine what it’s like being an idol. There probably wasn’t a single place he felt safe going to anymore. There are always cameras just waiting to take his picture.
‘When do you go back to America?’
‘In a few days. My boss loves to extend his business trips at the last minute. So, I could be here three more days or seven more days. It’s very hard to pack to come on these trips.’
A bittersweet expression settles on his handsome face.
You think for a long moment before typing away at your phone and showing it to him.
‘Have you ever been to New Jersey? That’s the state I’m from.’
Minho’s lips purse as he thinks for a long few moments. Very slowly, he nods, almost unsure. He types in his phone, then thinks for a moment, then types again.
‘I think we’ve been there twice. Is Newark in New Jersey?’
Excitedly, you nod. “Yes, that’s up in North Jersey!” You’re so excited that you forget to type down on your phone. “Oh!” you say with a laugh, looking back down at your phone.
‘Yes, that’s in the northern part of the state, about an hour or so from my hometown. I grew up in the central region, right on the beach. It only takes ten minutes to get to the beach from my house.’
Minho’s smile widens and he looks at you with a slightly envious look in his eyes. You giggle in response.
‘Two other members love the beach, but they’re from Australia.’
‘Australian beaches are probably not that different from American beaches. But I’ve never been to Australia. Have you?’
Minho nods and you see him close his translation app and switch over to his camera roll. His fingers quickly begin scrolling up through the countless amount of photos he has on his phone.
Not wanting to invade his privacy, you look away from his phone and out the doors in the vestibule once more. Not a single soul is walking– or running– along the sidewalks anymore.
Due to the power outage, there’s not even street lights illuminating in the puddles, it’s almost eerie looking. But, surprisingly, you don’t feel uneasy at all. Especially not with Minho sitting at your side.
Said man hums to get your attention, shuffling closer to you, and you look down at his phone. The picture is absolutely gorgeous.
It’s a photo of the beach, you’re assuming in Australia. The red sun is peeking above the horizon and painting the sky a beautiful wash of reds, pinks, and purples, all of the colors melting into one another. The clouds are wispy and glow in the morning sun.
The ocean seems so beautifully blue, even the foam at the crash of the waves is beautiful.
In front of the ocean is a gaggle of boys, it looks like there’s about seven of them. Each of them have bright, beautiful smiles on their faces reaching their eyes.
You’ve never been able to feel joy radiating from a photo like this, it seems to be contagious since you find a smile pulling at your own lips.
“This photo is beautiful,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of it.
Minho hums, maybe he understood what you said. His thumb moves and he scrolls to the next picture where two of the boys have taken one of the others by his legs and arms and seem to be pretending to toss him into the surf.
A soft giggle comes from your lips and you find yourself leaning towards him a bit to get a better look at the photo. Truly, you didn’t even notice your shoulders brushing against each other, and by his lack of reaction, it seems Minho didn’t either.
“Friends?” you ask him in your choppy Korean.
Minho looks over at you, his face closer to you than before. His eyes widen a bit at your proximity, but he doesn’t back up at all.
“Family,” he corrects you in his soft English.
An even warmer feeling spreads through your chest and you look back down at the photo. They must be his band members, but they just look so much closer than that. It reminds you of all of your friends back home.
Before you can even think twice, you’re opening your own camera roll, scrolling through an endless sea of memories before finding one specific morning you woke up to go watch the sunrise on the beach.
A tiny, awe-struck noise comes from Minho when he looks down at it.
“Sunrise,” you say and then think for a moment. You’re not sure of the Korean you want to say. “Favorite… time.”
He’s so patient when you speak, it absolutely melts your heart. There’s a different air about his softness with you too. He’s not treating you like a child just learning how to speak, no, he’s just being… nice. He’s being sweet and genuine and it speaks volumes about his character.
“Sunrise,” he says in Korean.
“Sunrise,” you repeat, looking up at him. His eyes were already trained on your face by the time you looked up. A tiny dusting of pink covers your cheeks. How long has he been looking at you?
A happy smile spreads over his lips, the edges curl up playfully. He nods. “Sunrise. Sunrise.”
“Sunrise.” Your voice says softly once more before looking back down at your phone.
Swiping through a few more pictures, you show him the boardwalk that runs down the beaches by your house. Everything from shops, to amusement park rides, to lemonade and ice cream stands litter the entirety of the shore.
He points down at the ferris wheel and shakes his head. “No,” he says simply.
“No?” you ask with a laugh. “Why not?”
“No… no high,” he shakes his head and motions his hands around to emphasize his point.
“Best picture,” you giggle holding your hand up in the air to emphasize the height aspect, then you’re swiping to the next picture taken from the top of the ferris wheel. This time, it was sunset. “Sunset.”
“Sunset.” A pause. “My… My… favorite time.”
A soft hum bubbles up in your throat. He loves sunset whereas you love sunrise. How cute.
“Sunset is beautiful,” you say slowly. Your eyes are still on your phone when you swipe to another photo.
“Beautiful,” Minho whispers softly.
Humming, you nod. “Yes, beautiful.”
A soft puff of air comes out of his nose and fans out over your cheek. When did he get this close? You look up at him and almost bump his nose with yours.
Minho’s head flinches back a bit at your sudden movement, but he makes no move to get further away from you.
He sighs softly, his eyes flitting all over your face, taking in every one of your features. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.
Your eyes widen, that pink blush making its way back to your face. You can’t even help the tiny, giddy giggle that bubbles in your throat. You look down shyly, biting your bottom lip.
Tender, gentle fingers lift your chin back up. Truly, you didn’t notice how cold your skin was until his warm touch spread on your skin.
Is this really happening?
A shiver races down your spine and a soft shudder comes out of your lips. Minho’s eyes look down at your lips and then down at your arm where goosebumps begin to raise.
He pulls away gently, making your brows furrow. Did you do something wrong? Maybe you misread his–
He’s shrugging off his hoodie.
Oh, he thinks you're cold.
Before you can even think to tell him you’re okay, he’s pulling your shoulder forward a bit so he can drape it over your back, bundling you up in such a pleasant, soft warmth. With small, fussy movements, he’s closing the hoodie around your body.
Perhaps you didn’t even notice how cold you were until you were suddenly surrounded in a warmth that can be compared to the fuzziest blanket you own. Not to mention the absolutely delightful scent that wafts upwards into your nose from the fabric.
It’s such a clean, cozy, calming scent. It’s like you buried your nose into the Mahogany Teakwood candle at Bath and Body Works.
Your eyes stay trained on his face while he bundles you up tightly. His hands gently grab your arms and rub up and down a few times to create even more warmth.
“Better,” he murmurs, finally looking up to meet your eyes.
How is it that a stranger has wormed himself into your heart like this? His tender gaze makes your soul feel calm, like those pictures of the morning surf under the sunrise.
“Thank you,” you whisper back to him. Your hands come up to grab at the hoodie, curling into the fabric.
Minho smiles back at you, you can see how his smile grows as he watches you relax into his clothing. There’s no space between your shoulders as you rest against adjacent walls, your two bodies have melted into the corner.
There’s a clap of thunder outside, but neither of you move. Your feet shuffle on the floor as you bring your knees closer to your chest. His legs adjust around yours, feeding them under your bent knees and tangling your limbs up further.
It’s so hard to break Minho’s eye contact, but you do it slowly, looking down at your phone and opening up the translate app once more. His soft breathing hits your cheek with every exhale.
‘You’re too nice to a stranger.’
Minho hums, almost in agreement. He picks up his phone and types back.
‘I’m usually not.’
You read the statement and then look at him, your head cocked to the side. Your brows furrow in confusion, but he types more before you can even ask another question.
‘I don’t know why I feel drawn to you.’
The text looks right back at you. Your heart flutters in your chest and you know that your cheeks get redder and redder by the second. Still, you can’t contain the giddy laugh that makes its way past your lips.
You bite the inside of your cheek to try and hide the smile, but it only makes Minho smile wider. His hand slowly comes up towards your cheek. Right before he’s able to make contact, he stops, hovering over your skin and gazing into your eyes.
A silent question is asked through his eyes. It’s a language that you don’t need any sort of app for. An answer is communicated right back.
Soft, tender warmth spreads over your cheek, radiating all throughout your body in the most gentle glow. His thumb caresses over your cheek bone, swiping gentle strokes back and forth.
You feel the same as him, that’s the strange part. There’s something so alluring about him that you just can’t put your finger on it. He’s pulling you in like a magnet and you don’t even want to fight against it.
There’s so many words sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you know that each and every one of them would fall on deaf ears. Nothing that you can say in the moment would make sense to him.
Exhales are shared and mingled together in the minimal space between your faces,
“Beautiful,” he whispers for your ears only. Not like there’s anyone else to hear it except the ATM sitting dormant in the corner of the vestibule. Not even the mice in the walls would have been able to hear his murmur.
Love at first sight was something you always gawked and scoffed at. You always thought that it was such a Hallmark invention, that there was no way you would be able to just look at someone once and immediately fall head over heels for them.
But here you were, sitting on a dirty floor, feeling your heart beating faster and faster in your chest. Letting your face be cradled by a man you didn’t know two hours ago. By the man who patiently worked with you to communicate.
How is this even possible?
You can count on one hand the amount of things you know about one another.
Minho, who is a famous idol in Korea, who loves sunset and hates heights, who has the most expressive brown eyes you’ve ever seen.
Minho, who did whatever he could just to talk to you when he could have just as easily sat in silence on the other side of the vestibule.
His hand slowly drags down your cheek, each finger gliding down your skin towards your jawline to lift under your chin.
Another silent question passes through both of you in the one language you seem to both be fluent in.
Your eyes flick down to his lips and he hears you loud and clear.
Minho leans in slowly, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight touch. But, despite how soft the kiss is, heat spreads through your body in a grand wave, rushing through your fingertips and into your toes.
The first press is long and sweet, the two of you simply melting into the sensation of being locked together.
He pulls away only for a moment, his eyes gazing down at your lips before he swoops in again, this time his movements a bit quicker.
His hand returns to your cheek, guiding your head to tilt to the side to gain better access to your lips.
A soft sigh leaves your nose and your own hand travels up to grab at his shirt gently, just needing to hold onto him in any way possible.
Minho responds to your sigh, his lips moving a bit faster against yours. Both of your lips part and close, moving like mirror images of one another. Every few kisses, your noses brush against one another, but it doesn’t deter you from your actions at all.
Slowly, your hand travels from his shirt up to his neck, running up the side of his flushed skin. He feels feverish to the touch and it only spurs you on to keep moving. At the contact on his own body, Minho lets out a tiny grunt against your lips, his kisses stutter for a moment but he’s back to kissing you after just a moment.
Up, up, up, your hand travels over his moving jaw, to his cheek, then moving back to thread in his soft, brown trusses of hair. God, everything about him is just so perfect. It’s like you’re combing your fingers through the softest of cotton.
His kisses are getting deeper, little sighs come from both of your mouths as the passion continues on. Minho’s body turns towards yours a bit more, his knees canting up and almost forcing your legs onto his lap.
Tentatively, you feel his tongue poke out from between his lips, licking gently at your lower lip. You don’t even hesitate to give him access to your mouth. A gentle moan claws its way up your throat as his tongue licks into your mouth.
The hand on your cheek grips you a bit tighter, holding your face to his– as if you would want to try and move away from Minho and his addicting kisses.
“I just can’t help it,” he whispers in Korean against your spit, soaked lips before capturing them once more. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”
All you catch is your name and it sends a shiver down your spine. You don’t even need to know what else he said, his tone says it all. The way it comes out in a breathy exhale is enough to send your mind reeling.
“Please,” you murmur into his mouth before he presses his lips to yours once more with the same amount of passion and need in his actions.
More and more rain hits the glass doors, becoming the only sound that can be heard in the room except for your shared exhales, pants, and breathy moans.
Slowly, the kisses begin to calm down. Minho pulls away for a moment to take a long breath. His thumb moves to brush against your lower lip like a butterfly landing on a flower.
His eyes open just a crack, gazing down at your mouth with a hazy look in his eye. As he slowly catches his breath, he presses his forehead against yours, his fingers brushing along the heated skin on your face.
“Forgive me, I didn’t do things in order,” he whispers. “I should’ve taken you out first.”
Your eyes open and you look at him in confusion. “Hm?”
His jaw clenches before he swallows and he takes another long moment to look over your face, his features soft and welcoming.
There’s some movement as his other hand blindly pats around his lap for his phone. He can’t physically tear himself away from you long enough to even look down.
Another tiny laugh comes from your lips.
Your fingers move out of his hair to come around and gently run over his features, brushing against his jawline, to then trace up to his lips and up the length of his nose, memorizing each and every detail.
Minho melts into your touch, his face moving closer to your touch, seeking you out.
His hand finally finds his phone and he grabs it blindly, flipping it around in his lap and tearing his gaze away from your face to glance down at it.
Thumbs are flying across the screen to type at his translate app. He’s typing so quickly on his phone that you can't help but laugh a bit.
Before he’s able to turn the phone around, there are a few sharp knocks against the glass of the vestibule. The two of you practically jump out of your skin and your heads whip over to the doors.
Red and blue lights are flashing outside and it looks like two police officers are standing outside, peering in at you both. They wave when they see they’ve caught your attention.
Minho looks at the police officers, then to you, then back to the officers, and then back to you once more. His mouth opens and closes a few times and he tries to form a few words but you’re untangling your limbs from one another.
In a moment, you’re both on your feet as the officers work on unlocking the doors from the outside.
Minho gently grabs at your arm and you look down where he’s touching and your heart sinks a little. His eyes look a little questioning and desperate.
“Oh,” you say sadly. You shrug off his jacket, and hand it back to him. Minho’s eyebrows pull together and his lips part. He looks down at the jacket and then up at you.
“No,” he says firmly.
“Are you two alright?” The police officer calls inside in Korean.
“We’re okay,” Minho responds without breaking eye contact with you. He puts a hand on his jacket still dangling over your arm and pushes it back towards you.
“Minho?” you ask, looking at him and then at the officer approaching you both.
“We apologize for the delay, but we knew you two were safe, so we had to prioritize,” the officer says.
You blink at him blankly for a moment before then looking back at Minho.
“She’s a foreigner,” he says to the officer, finally looking away from you. “She doesn’t know Korean.”
“Ah,” the officer responds. “My apologies. You can tell her that she’s free to go.” He nods at the two of you and motions towards the door. You take his hint and slowly begin follow him.
Once again, Minho tugs on your arm and you pause, turning around to look at him. He’s holding his phone up to your face with a pleading look in his eye.
‘Can I please buy you a drink?’
A wide smile spreads across your cheeks and you can’t deny the relief that you feel inside your chest. The moment your lips twitch upwards, Minho immediately mirrors it.
“Yes,” you respond. “I love to go.”
He chuckles at your choppy Korean once more before taking his jacket out of your hands and wrapping you inside it once more. This time, he grabs the hood and pulls it up over your head.
With a satisfied hum, he nods and laces your fingers together.
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.
w/c; 30k and some change (870 extra words for patreon bonus) [3.4k this teaser]
a/n; thank you to @junkissed for proofreading for me and giving me strength to push through and finish this despite all the shit that kept trying to knock me down. this fic is a lot, so please if you have made it this far in my notes make sure you read all the warnings -- keep in mind this is my halloween fic, so i didn't hold back. dark au mars is back strong.
this fic will be released 10/28 to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here
Trailing behind your friends, you laugh when your best friend Caitlin pulls at your arm, urging you towards the front of the group. “Y/N!” You roll your eyes as she whines your name, extending the last of it dramatically before laying her head on your shoulder and putting her arm through yours. “Can I sit between you and Christen this time? This movie is supposed to be hella scary.”
Hearing his name, the self-appointed leader of your group, slows his strides to match yours and, in turn, Caitlin’s. “What about me?”
You liked your friends but they could be a bit much. You had known Caitlin the longest. The two of you had been friends since middle school and she was the person you could rely on the most, but that all changed when the two of you went to high school and your bodies and personalities started to change. Boys started to pay attention to you more and Caitlin’s personality soured.
Christen wasn’t the type of person that you ever saw yourself being friends with before. He was the most popular guy at school and the captain of the football team, but none of those things mattered anymore. After graduation this year, you thought all of those trivial things would fall by the wayside, that your friends would start acting a bit less like they were still in high school and yet it was like they never left.
“Caitlin wants to sit between us for the movie. It’s supposed to be really scary. I don’t min—”
“You know I like the end seat.”
Furrowing your brows, you start to speak up again when Christen sighs and puts his hand around your waist, pulling you from Caitlin and causing the girl to scowl at you. “I like the end seat and you always have to piss like five times during a movie. Let’s keep the seats like we always do. That okay with you, Cat?”
Staring at Christen, Caitlin wants to be mad and tell him no, but the moment he calls her by the nickname he had given her, she swoons and just nods. “Uh huh… sure, Christen.”
“See.” Turning his attention back to you, Christen winks. “It’s all good, baby. Now, put a smile on that face; don’t be a buzzkill. If you get scared, you can just hold on to me.” Tugging you closer, he grins before finally letting you walk on your own.
From the time that you had met him your sophomore year, Christen had never been shy about how he felt about you. You wouldn’t call it a crush. A crush was something sweet and something that, if you didn’t reciprocate, the other person might move on. What Christen felt for you was possessive and like you owed him something. You were like a target or an end prize and he hadn’t won just yet, but to him there were still plenty of levels left in the game.
Wrapping your arms around yourself, you glance back at Caitlin as she scoffs at her "boyfriend,” Jae. You felt bad for him. It was so obvious how much he liked Caitlin. He would follow behind her like a puppy, buy her anything she wanted, and be at her beck and call even when she was drooling over another guy. You had watched as Caitlin had belittled Jae in front of others and refused to call him her boyfriend but then gotten angry if he didn’t refer to her as his girlfriend. It was a complicated situation that you honestly didn’t understand.
“Just… Stop touching me. Did you bring money for candy?” Caitlin’s voice is sharp, still irritated from the interaction with Christen and now Jae was walking too close to her. In her mind, she always got second best while you did nothing and got first pick. You didn’t even act like you wanted Christen; it was devastating.
“Yeah, of course I did. You can get anything you want, babe.” Jae’s voice is a bit defeated, but at least he was going to be able to sit next to Caitlin. He had gotten nervous when she had asked to switch seats. It wasn’t like he could tell her where to sit... he wasn’t like that. She was a strong-willed girl; she always had been, but that was one of the things he loved about her.
Making a face at Jae’s words, Caitlin steps forward and sighs dramatically, not hearing the way Alanna and Juwon copy her just a few steps behind her. They were the lucky two out of the friend group in their own personal opinions. They knew exactly where they fit in the hierarchy.
There was the king, Christian, and his would-be queen if only you would accept his hand. The princess who wants to be queen, Caitlin, and her dog turned prince, Jae. Meanwhile, Alanna and Juwon belonged in the court together. They were happy to cheer each of you on and laugh when you failed.
They had been dating since freshman year and a day hadn’t gone by that someone was complaining about seeing Juwon’s tongue down Alanna’s throat. Another strong opinion that the two shared was that if you didn’t want to see them making out, you could look in the other direction.
“Babeeeee!” Alanna whines mocking Caitlin as she pulls on Juwon’s arm, causing the boy laugh as he looks at her fondly. “Buy me candy?” Batting her lashes, Alanna blows a kiss in his direction that Juwon pretends to catch before reaching into his pocket to take out his wallet, handing it to her.
“My money is your money, princess.” Another wave of laughter erupts from the back of the group as Alanna pushes Juwon’s wallet back towards him. Now the two have caught the attention of everyone.
“The hell are you two doing? Are you high?” Christen’s voice is stern, but the layer of his own amusement only serves to make Juwon laugh as he shakes his head and pulls Alanna forward towards the doors of the theater.
“Nope, not yet. Give me a few hours and I’ll be so fuckin’ chill I might not remember your name.”
Smiling, you lift your fingers to your lips to hide it as Alanna pokes at your side when she passes by you, giving you a wink. For all their heavy PDA and following the leader's behavior, you got along with them well. They had been nice to you, even when your best friend hadn’t.
“Ugh, as if. You can’t think now, Juwon. This is why you two are going to a community college. You’ve fucking rotted your brains with weed. It’s gross.” Caitlin watches as Alanna throws up her middle finger before blowing her a kiss and disappearing behind the theater door. “It is gross. I’m right, aren’t I, Y/N?”
You tilt your head and struggle with what to say as you all get closer to the doors that your friends had just gone through. “I—well. It’s their choice.” Feeling bad that you can’t just tell Caitlin to shut up and to leave Juwon and Alanna alone, you find yourself muttering as she scoffs, turning her attention to Jae for support who gives it willingly.
Feeling the weight of having to agree with Caitlin off your shoulders, you unzip your bag, the air conditioner hits you like a breeze when Christen opens the doors and steps inside. You purse your lips and fish out a five-dollar bill, not paying attention to what’s in front of you until you hear Christen’s and another guy’s voice.
“Wassup, man? Still manning this place like a fucking loser?”
“Still making money, so yeah, if that’s what you wanna call it. Just one?”
“Nah, two. Me and Y/N.”
Furrowing your brows, you lift your money up to show it to Christen just as you see who’s behind the ticket counter. Vernon Chwe, another member of your graduating class. You didn’t know him well, but as often as you and your friends came to the movies, you saw him in passing. He was always nice to you, and he was easy on the eyes.
“Already paid for. See…” Reaching over the counter, Christen rips two tickets for himself before winking at Vernon and passing one to you.
You can see the irritation written on Vernon’s face, but he manages to keep his cool. He wasn’t like Christen or anyone else in your group. He didn’t hang out in the commons area or at the mall like you did. You knew that he worked here and that he had a cool car. You found him intriguing.
Moving towards Christen quickly, you take the ticket and look at Vernon apologetically. “I’m sorry. That was so rude.” Looking up at your friend, you whine, “That wasn’t cool, Christen...”
Instead of offering his own apology to Vernon, Christen just laughs and taps you on the tip of your nose. “Whatever, baby. Don’t get mad about it. I’m just playin’ with Vern. Come on. Let me buy you a snack.”
Vernon watches as Christen tries to take your hand but you manage to keep it from him. Tilting his head, he finds it curious. He didn’t know if you were dating the guy or not, but he didn’t like him; he never had.
“Um, excuse me... Dodgy, loser, man? I need two tickets.”
Turning his attention back towards Caitlin, Vernon sighs and rips off two tickets before taking $10 from Jae. “Enjoy the movie.” The moment she is out of earshot, Vernon adds, “Bitch.”
He could hear you and your friends at the concession stand. It wasn’t a busy night and the theater wasn’t running a full staff. If it had been any other group, Vernon might have put a bit more pep in his step, making his way over from the counter, but he could already hear the bitchy girl complaining, so he took his time.
“Oh, my god. Does this place not have anyone else working?”
Muttering for Caitlin to hush, you rub your neck as Vernon sighs and moves to the middle of the concession stand before lifting his hands. “What can I get for you guys?” He didn’t really care; well, maybe he cared what you wanted. You had been kind to him and it wasn’t the first time. Every time he had seen you here or run into you at school, you were nice. You were also gorgeous, so that didn’t hurt your case either.
“Two large cokes, a medium popcorn, and some M&Ms. Also, could you like... not take all night? The movie is supposed to start in thirty minutes.” Leaning on the counter, Caitlin watches as Vernon shifts his head to the side slightly before grabbing two large cups and filling them with ice. She remembered him from school and the other times they had been here. He was weird. She had a few classes with him and he had always sat in the back and avoided talking to people except when he had to.
“Oh my god, Y/N, do you remember Miss Lewis’ calculus class from that last semester?”
Taken aback by Caitlin’s question, you look from her back towards the counter before tilting your head. “I—yeah? What about it?” This was the type of thing that you hated about your friends. They lived in the past; every day was still a day of the glory of high school, whereas you were ready to move on.
“This dude was in that class. We had that stupid ass icebreaker, remember? Like a weird fact about us? He said he was allergic to peanuts.” Cailtin snorts into a laugh as she meets Vernon’s eyes, his brow lifting to her memory.
“Well—I, I remember—”
“Man, that must fuckin’ suck. Can you eat anything? What happens if you eat a peanut? Would you die? Swell up like a fatass.”
Juwon had been doing so well until that moment, but he was good at following the leader and at that moment Caitlin was playing her best queen bully bee role. Beside you, Christen laughs under his breath before leaning on the counter as Vernon tries to ignore them, fixing the rest of the order before giving the total to Jae, who slides over the money.
“Anyone else want anything? I’d hate for you to miss the previews because you’re being assholes.”
Surprised by Vernon’s words, the laughter dies off. No smiles are left except a slight one on your face.
Christen doesn’t say anything before he reaches over to take a box of milk duds from the display showing them to Vernon and tossing a dollar bill on to the counter. “Thanks for nothing, bitch.”
You try to stay; you want to apologize to Vernon for your friends one more time, but Christen’s hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you forward hard. “Let’s go, Y/N. You can share a drink with Caitlin. She didn’t need a fucking large anyway.”
The movie theater didn’t have many others besides your group. After a few stragglers made their way in finding a seat, you tried to settle into your own and focus on the screen. You weren’t the biggest fan of scary movies, but there wasn’t much to do on a Thursday and you had already spent too many days staring at the same stores at the mall.
When the lights go off completely and the screen lights up, you find yourself trying to make yourself smaller in your seat to keep your leg away from Christen’s hand when he stretches his fingers and smirks over at you. “Chill, are you scared already? It’s just the previews, baby.”
You wished that you had the guts to tell him to stop calling you baby and that you weren’t scared. You just wished that he’d keep his fingers away from the end of your shorts. Shaking your head, you offer him a strained smile as you lean towards Caitlin, taking a few M&Ms she offers you before eating one of them. “Not scared, just a little cold.”
“You want my jacket?”
God, you couldn’t win, but maybe that would keep his hands off your skin. Nodding, you watch Christen stand up despite the groans from those behind you. Taking the jacket, you lay it over your legs and smile a bit wider at him. “Thanks, Christen.”
Now Caitlin was regretting sharing anything with you. Tilting the box of candy away from you as she watches you tuck the jacket around your legs, Caitlin scoffs and takes a long sip of her drink.
By the end of the movie, you find that you don’t have that much to be worried about. It wasn’t as much of a scary movie as you thought it would have been. The acting wasn’t great and the story had been predictable. You seemed to be the only one who seemed to think that way as the rest of your friends loudly discussed how good it was as you all moved through the theater lobby.
Taking up the rear, you hold Christen’s jacket in your arms, waiting for the right moment to give it back to him until you see Vernon sweeping some popcorn off the floor near the concession stand. Maybe you could get in that apology now. Watching your friends for a moment longer, you let them keep going as you hang back and head in Vernon’s direction.
“Hey… Vernon?”
Furrowing his brows, Vernon lifts his head, sighing when he sees you standing in front of him. He hadn’t expected that, especially seeing you alone. Glancing around for your entourage, he’s surprised to see them closer to the front doors instead of right on your heels. “Yeah, what’s up? How was the movie?”
Opening your mouth, you close it quickly, not sure how to answer him at first, but you shift on your feet and smile at him. “It was—it was okay. I mean, I think everyone could guess what they did last summer by how guilty they were acting.” Shaking your head, you sigh and glance down at your hands, gripping the jacket tighter in your hands. You weren’t sure why Vernon made you so nervous, his gaze making your cheeks heat up with how his smirk pulled up at the corner of his lips.
“Yeah, not my favorite either, honestly.” Lowering his eyes to the jacket in your hands, Vernon takes a breath and shakes his head. He wasn’t an idiot; he had seen that jacket on Prince Charming—Christen, before the movie. “Did you need something, Y/N?”
You weren’t sure that Vernon even knew your name so hearing him say it startles you, but of course he did. You had graduated together and probably had several classes together. It was silly of you to think he didn’t know your name; even Christen had said it before the movie. Maybe it was more that Vernon was saying it. Why did it matter?
“Oh, no. Sorry, I know you are busy. I just—my friends, I’m so sorry. They aren’t always shitty.” Even you knew that was a lie, but that was what you did. You made excuses for them. You could see that Vernon knew it was a lie too, as he smiles and nods along with your words.
“Sure, it’s whatever. Didn’t bother me—”
“Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” Christen’s voice startles you with how close it is. Vernon watches how your body jerks in surprise and he furrows his brows, feeling a pang of anger taking over him at how someone could scare you so easily.
“I—I was coming. I just—” You weren’t sure what to say to Christen, especially when you meet his eyes and see him glare at Vernon. You had made it worse. Turning towards your friend, you sigh and laugh but even you can tell it’s fake. “Let’s go. We were going to get froyo, right?”
“What the fuck were you saying to her, freak?” Christen was fuming that you were talking to Vernon, but what pissed him off even more was that Vernon had been smiling at you. You had gone over to him by yourself and it looked like some loser was flirting with you. That wouldn’t happen, not while he was breathing.
Pushing at Christen’s chest, you whine his name before glancing over at Vernon apologetically as he shakes his head and leans on his broom. How wasn’t he afraid of Christen? You were friends with Christen and you were afraid of him at times.
The damage was done; the rest of your friends had made their way back over the concession stand, where the tension was growing thicker. Caitlin looked equal parts disgusted and amused as she watched Christen yell at Vernon. Jae stood behind her, confused look on his face as if he didn’t know if he wanted to be there or if he had to be there, and Alanna and Juwon were already laughing. That’s what they always did. They wanted to see a fight; that would be better than the movie to them. Meanwhile, you were horrified at the idea.
“Please, can we just go?” Your voice is strained as you push at Christen, unable to get him to budge.
His hand moves to grip your forearm, causing you to hiss in pain as he pulls you from in front of him and towards Caitlin, who wraps her arm around your waist, holding you closer to her and Jae. “I’m not leaving until I wipe this stupid smile off this freak’s face. I don’t like how he looks at you, Y/N. He’s a perv.”
Nodding along with his words, Caitlin hums against your hair as she keeps you close to her even as you groan in annoyance. “Totally, he was staring at her the entire time. Made me wanna hurl. Like, seriously, loser? You think you can look at my best friend and it’s okay?”
Now you were her best friend and she was protective of you? Only when she could make someone else miserable or make you miserable while doing it. Pulling from Cailtin, you tug on Christen’s shirt and beg for him to leave with you. “Please, can we go? You promised to buy me a snack and to get me home early.” Avoiding Vernon’s eyes as he grips his broom a bit tighter, his jaw clenched, you tug harder on Christen’s shirt.
Smirking at Vernon, Christen takes a step back, putting up his hands as if he’s being the bigger man. He moves towards you and Cailtin so he can wrap his arm around you and this time you let him. Vernon can see the discomfort in your eyes, his brows furrowing slightly, but what you are doing seems to work as Christen takes his jacket from you and sighs happily as if he’s won the girl, leading you out of the theater.
♱ warnings: fem!reader, Red Riding Hood reader x Wolf Hybrid Chan, I never specify body type but this has stomach bulge & Chris is described to be bigger than the reader so read at ur own discretion, size kink, teratophilia, knotting, kinda corruption?, bribery/coercing, lowkey kinda mean chris (everyone act surprised. Sian wrote mean dom), rough sex + big dick chris with no mentions of prep, biting, public sex? Its in a forest but nobody is around, 1 use of “good girl’
sorta proofread
Kinktober Schedule
DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!
“Tsk tsk tsk… You should know better than to be this far out in the woods, Red. You know this is my territory.”
“C-Chris! Listen… I’m really sorry but I need that plant over there. Grandma isn’t doing well and the only remedy that will help needs just a few of those flowers…” The tall man looks over his shoulder, eyeing the purple-colored flowers that you had pointed out.
“Hm… Okay, you can have a few.” The bright smile that grew on your face was almost enough to let you take it for free. Almost.
“Thank-” “On one condition.”
“C’mon, sweet girl. You know I don’t do things for free~” His rough fingers stroked your cheek and he couldn’t help but grin as your smile dropped. The canines that peeked out from behind his plump lips were enough to bring you back to reality and remind you that he was in fact still a wolf hybrid and not so much your “friendly” neighbor.
“What exactly do you want…?” His grin seemed to get wider before he took his bottom lip between his teeth. A predatory glint took over his eyes as he slowly looked you up and down.
“I have something in mind…”
“Open the fuck up.”
His growl rumbles from deep within his chest and he thrusts his hips forward aggressively, causing you to cry out. Your thighs ache from the action, along with your swollen pussy thanks to the big dick that was currently tearing your insides up. You lost count after the first 5 inches, and now the seemingly never-ending length was quickly becoming too much for you.
He knew this all too well. But that didn’t stop him from forcing you and your little human body to take every last inch of his thick cock inside of you.
“C’mon Little Red, you can take it. You need to, remember?” He chuckles and pushes your thighs further apart. “You need those pretty little flowers, so you need to take my fucking cock.” His smile drops at the end of the sentence and he pulls out just to roughly thrust back inside. You moan out in surprise and his fingers dig further into your thighs, leaving crescent-shaped divots in your skin.
“P-Please…” He clicks his tongue and leans forward more, shoving his face into your neck with another growl. With this, he manages to push another inch or two into your puffy hole, but your mind is so foggy that you don’t even notice it right away. The feeling of him breaching your walls so aggressively, all while he growls and huffs about how he needs to be all the way in for it to “count as payment” makes your head spin.
Even more so as a sob rips from your throat when he finally bottoms out. Your jaw drops and you squeal as his hips grind against yours, causing him to feel deeper all while he rubs against your G-Spot so perfectly. He throws his head back at the feeling of you completely wrapped around him and groans deeply when you clench subconsciously.
“There we go~ Good job, baby.” He licks a stripe up your neck before placing kisses all over it, letting you take a few seconds to breathe. He wasn’t that much of a brute- he did still care for you after all. Plus, what good is a new toy if you break it so early on!? So he takes a few seconds to himself, backing away and fixing his posture, allowing him to get a good look at you. And God do you look exquisite.
He licks his lips and looks over your body multiple times, doing everything in his power to burn this image of you into his head. He starts with your pretty lips, swollen and shiny with drool, and then your flushed cheeks that are wet from the fat tears that fall down them.
His eyes glance at your arms, smiling to himself at the army of goosebumps that have littered your skin as your body shakes deliciously with what he can’t decipher if it’s pleasure or pain. Your chest catches his eyes next; the way it heaves with each breath you take makes his chest swell with pride. But the thing that took the most of his attention, was the not-so-little bump on your tummy.
His lips were slightly parted and his breath was quickening as he lightly traced the outline of his dick. It’s at this point that he realizes just how large and wide he is compared to you. He’s always noticed- it’s quite hard not to. But when he has you like this, below him and completely at his mercy, he finally realizes just how much bigger he is. The sun only urges him further, casting a giant shadow over you that completely covers you and some of the ground you lay upon.
It makes his instincts go absolutely crazy and he can’t hold himself back from experimentally thrusting, moving at an angle that makes the bulge more prominent. The squeak you let out causes his eyes to flicker back up to your face, essentially snapping him out of the daze he was in. And when he meets your confused face looking up at him, he realizes how long he has been staring.
“Haha… Take a look at this, baby.” He wipes some of your tears and tilts your chin to help you look down. The desperate moan you let out sends his ego to the moon, causing him to twitch against your walls. He huffs out a laugh in disbelief and begins to move his hips, thrusting into you slowly yet roughly.
“I’m so deep… You feel that, baby?” His hand moves from your thigh and pushes down on your lower stomach, right on top of where the bulge popped out each time he bottomed out. “Fffuck.. ‘S my fat cock in your tummy?”
“God- Fuck, shut up Chris-” You clench tightly at his words despite your words and he ignores you in favor of picking up his pace, groaning when your walls flutter around him even more.
“You feel so fucking good. It’s almost like this pretty pussy was meant for me.” You swear you almost see his eyes roll into the back of his head, but he immediately brings your attention away by folding you in half. Pushing your knees to your chest and letting your ass hang in the air as he completely hovers over you, fucking into you with carnal need.
This new position makes you see stars and he uses it to his advantage, pounding into you and not allowing you time to think straight. He chases this brutal pace until your legs begin to ache, the pain of it overpowering the pleasure and making you hurriedly tap on his shoulder and push him back, “Fuck, wait- my legs.”
He huffs in annoyance but responds immediately, sitting up straight and allowing your legs to fall to his sides. His hips continue to thrust shallowly as you breathe deeply and try to rub the ache away, but this break doesn’t last long. You owe him payment, and he wants it now.
So he pulls out, opting to quickly flip you onto your knees and push your chest into the ground. You’re given no time to object before he’s shoving his entire length back inside with a groan. Your body shakes at the feeling of being absolutely filled to the brim. The back of your throat even itches as if his tip was poking it. And god, did it genuinely feel like that.
It’s not hard for him to find his previous pace, especially now that you’re seemingly more pliant for him. The only disobedient action from you is your cries for him to slow down, but he has no plans to. Not when you look absolutely ruined below him.
He shushes you and leans forward, holding you down with his chest against your back as he continues to fuck you as if his life depends on it.
“Shhhhh… It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re gonna be good and take it right? You're gonna let the big bad wolf fuck your brains out? Yea?” Your fingers dig into the ground and you nod as best as you can with your cheek shoved against the floor.
He’s unhappy with the silent answer and bares his teeth, sinking them into your shoulder with a growl to “Use your words.”
“Y-Yes! Please, Chris!”
“Goood girl. Just sit there and take this fucking dick. Let Wolfy use you like the good chew toy you are.” The new name makes you clench tightly around him and he groans as you cum, causing the squelching noises to become even louder. He moans and nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving small kisses before he chomps down again.
The overstimulation is starting to hit and you cry out, desperately pushing against the ground in hopes of pushing your torso up and off the floor. But that’s not what good toys do. So he growls against your neck and pushes you down, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to keep you in place as he fixes his posture.
“No. You’re gonna sit still. Good toys don’t fucking move. I can’t knot you if you’re misbehaving.” As if to prove his point, his other hand digs into your waist, holding you even more still as he rams into you.
Thanks to his thick tip incessantly knocking into your cervix, you don’t process what he says right away. At least, not until you feel an extra mass pushing against your swollen folds. “W-Wait, your knot?!?”
You hear his earrings jingle as he tilts his head and you can almost hear the shit-eating grin on his face as he mocks you. “Yes, my knot. You’re gonna take it inside of this tight. little. cunt. And you’re going to take every last drop of my cum.” You go to disagree but your body reacts on its own, clenching around him and trying to suck him in impossibly deeper.
“F-Fuck- feels like you do like that idea, baby.” He grits his teeth and starts to focus on sharp thrusts. Once his knot finally breaches your hole, you sob into your arm and bite into it to hold back a scream.
He whines and grinds into you, rubbing against your G-spot roughly as he pushes himself over the edge. You can feel his breath on your neck, heavy and heaving as he pumps you full of his seed. His body shakes with each spurt of cum he releases, and the overwhelming movements are enough to push you over the edge again; the needy grinding from him mixed with the mind-numbing feeling of being overfilled, yet forced to hold every last bit, pushing you towards another orgasm.
“Mmmm… Hold it there, yeah? Keep my pups nice and safe in their new home, and I’ll let you take as many plants as you want. Deal, Little Red?”
Summary: It’s not your fault the Orange Needle Lily only grows in a protected part of the forest. While trying to gather ingredients, you’re confronted by a pack desperate for a healer to aid their injured pack member.
—————————————————————————
Running, you were running. Sweat is pouring down your back and the sides of your face. But, there’s no time to stop and wipe it off.
Trees whipped past you with every step, branches caught on your clothes and tore small rips in the fabric, some leaving small slices in your skin.
But that was the least of your worries right now.
You knew you shouldn’t have been here. You knew.
How else were you going to get the ingredients you need? The Orange Needle Lily only grew in a remote area of the Enchanted Forest.
A very well protected area of the Enchanted Forest.
Normally, when you made these trips, you were able to sneak in, pick a large bundle of lilies and then slip out unnoticed.
But from the rain yesterday, the ground was still damp, so you slipped and fell and made one of the loudest noises of your life.
Every single nerve in your body lit up with fear the second it happened. Growls and howls sounded in the distance.
So, you took off.
The snarls have only gotten louder the farther you run from the original area.
Everyone in the Kingdom knew to stay away from that area of the Enchanted Forest. The wolf pack that lives there has made their mark very clearly. Do not enter their land.
And you fucked up.
Loud, heavy, galloping thuds gain on you.
Your eyes scan the woods wildly to search for any sign of familiarity. Are you even running the right way back to your village?
A log is in your way so you hurdle over the top of it.
You need to keep going.
Run, run, run. Keep running. Don’t look back. If you look back for even a second you’re dead meat.
A bone chilling bark comes from right behind you, two over snarls respond to it.
Your village is so close, you can smell the fresh bread being baked.
A dark figure jumps out in front of you and cuts off your path.
You scream and backpedal to get away from its gleaming yellow eyes.
When you turn around you see another dark figure already behind you.
Your mouth opens and closes a few times, pleas for your life are stuck in your mouth.
When the dark figures get closer, you realize they’re two enormous wolves. Of course the pack was chasing you. Of fucking course.
Faster and faster your heart begins to beat. You gulp, hands clutching at your skirts to keep them hiked up.
There’s two wolves encroaching closer and closer. Didn’t you hear three seats of snarls?
“Please,” you beg, your throat getting tighter and tighter with unshed tears of fear. “I was only trying to collect Orange Needle Lilies, look.”
To prove your point, you turn to reach into the pouch that’s hanging around your body.
The wolf in front of you lets out a bone chilling bark. You yelp in response, hands flying up away from your body to show you mean no harm.
“I am so sorry,” you plead, closing your eyes in fear and shrinking in on yourself. “I am a healer!”
With shaky knees, you take a step backwards and the wolf behind you growls.
There’s a long series of snaps and a whoosh to your left. Your head snaps over to look but the wolves keep their eyes on you like prey.
“You are a healer?” A male voice asks from behind a tree.
“Yes! I am from Beckinsale. Please, I mean you no harm.” Tears form in the corners of your eyes. “Orange Needle Lilies only grow within your lands. Please, I mean you no harm. I need them for a tonic.”
From behind a tree, a man with jet black hair and fair skin steps out. He’s only wearing tattered shorts on his muscular body. Dark brown eyes study you carefully.
“How high is your skill?” He asks with a raised brow.
“Very,” you answer quickly. “I am the village healer. All ailments are brought to me.”
He thinks for a moment, keeping his eyes trained on you. “Can you cure infections?”
“Yes, if I have the proper ingredients.”
Why is he asking?
Suddenly, the larger of the two wolves barks at the man and growls after.
“Easy, Changbin,” the man says. “She can heal Minho.”
The other wolf huffs, rolling its amber eyes.
“You have an injury among you?” Your hands grab at the strap of your pouch nervously.
“Aye, we believe it to be an infection.” He shuffles a bit. “Do you think you could take a look?”
A loud huff comes from behind you.
“What other option do we have?” The man grits out between his teeth to the wolf.
The wolf snorts once more.
The man stares directly into your eyes, “You are coming with us. And you’re going to heal our packmate.”
Chills rip down your body, danger is licking at the back of your neck. Your eyebrows pinch together and you swallow nervously.
“Are you going to kill me?” you whisper meagerly.
The man laughs, “We will see once our friend is healed, won’t we, Omega?”
Your jaw clenches with fear at the mention of your secondary gender.
Orange Needle Lilies were used for a specific purpose: scent blockers. Just this morning you had run out of your tonic without realizing your supply of the flower had run out.
The trip was necessary if you had hoped to block your scent at all.
But with the small amount of the blocker tonic and the sheer volume of sweat dripping down your body, there was no way you were going to be able to block your scent. Especially not from a wolf pack.
Lycans’ sense of smell were more powerful than humans. It’s most likely that even if you had put on the full amount of blocker, they would still be able to pick up on your scent.
“Come on, then,” the man says to you and there’s a sharp nudge at your back. One of the wolves was pushing you forward with his snout.
------------------------------------------
The man, who you now know is named Seungmin, walks on your left. The wolf known as Changbin is on your right, and Seungmin told you that the other wolf’s name is Hyunjin.
Neither of you have said a word since then, he just continues to lead you through the Enchanted Forest away from your village.
“You must have a death wish. An omega prancing into a pack’s known territory all by herself.” Seungmin breaks the silence.
“I told you it is the only place the Orange Needle Lily grows,” you murmur, clutching your satchel closer to your body.
“And it is worth your life?”
You answer without hesitating. “Aye.” The next sentence comes out quieter. “A scent blocking tonic saves the life of an unmarked omega.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see the three sets of eyes shift to side-eye you. You keep your eyes forward and keep walking.
Eventually, you make it to a small clearing in the woods. Four different hut-like houses sat in a semi-circle. There was a garden off to the side with fresh fruits and vegetables, tables and a spit for cooking over.
“Seungmin!” A voice called over. It sent chills down your spine. Nervously, you look over to see a larger man stalking towards you.
Golden eyes trained on you with an overprotective glint to them. The wind carries past him and his scent wraps around your mind.
Pine and bergamot floods your system. Alpha . He is a pure-blood alpha.
You can’t hold his eye contact, you immediately look down at your shoes in the dirt. Instincts take over and you curl in on yourself in his overbearing presence.
“Who is this?” He growls when he gets closer to you.
“A healer.”
“You brought a stranger into our den?”
“I brought a healer to heal Minho.”
So many scents of different wolves wrap around your brain and overwhelm your senses. Alphas and betas, all of them, but no omegas. At least, none that you’re able to smell.
“She is not getting near Minho.”
“Chan, he is going to die if we do not have him healed!” Seungmin barks back at his alpha.
The pheromones that pour out of them make your skin crawl. Seungmin is only a beta, and yet he is standing up to his alpha so confidently.
He stands nose to nose with Chan, keeping his eye contact. Chan bares his teeth.
The same crackling and whooshing noise comes from behind you.
“Chan, someone needs to heal him. Our remedies are not working.” Changbin says to him.
Chan doesn’t break eye contact with Seungmin, but Seungmin doesn’t back down either.
“He will pull through, we do not need a healer.”
You bite the inside of your cheek and keep your eyes on the dirt. Your voice comes out weak. “What are you using on his wound?”
Chan’s head snaps over to you. “It does not matter to you.”
“Your protective nature will be the death of him!” Seungmin hisses. “Let her heal him before we all lose him.”
Chan bristles and snarls at Seungmin, but he doesn’t flinch away, he stands firm in his stance.
“We are crushing up Snow Weed and laying the paste on the wound.” Hyunjin answers you finally.
You look up at the beta with alarmed eyes. “That will only create a cover over the wound, you are trapping the infection inside his system with no exit!”
Alarmed, you look over at Chan, who is eyeing you closely. “If there truly is an infection, your packmate is in dire need of care. Please, let me heal him. I mean you all no harm.”
The alpha stares at you. Ignoring your instincts, you hold his searing eye contact.
“Chan,” Seungmin draws his attention. Chan doesn’t look away from you but turns his chin slightly towards Seungmin to show he’s listening. “It is our only option.”
The alpha thinks for a long moment before he speaks. “You will heal him, then you will leave.”
“Aye, as you wish.”
“If you harm a hair on my packmate’s head, we will kill you, understood?”
You gulp. “Aye, understood.”
He eyes you closely for four more heartbeats. “Come then, omega.”
------------------------------------------
You could smell the infection before you saw it; you were also able to hear the sound of shallow, wheeze-like breathing the moment you stepped foot inside the hut.
A man lay on a bed in the back of the hut, a blanket covering him. A damp towel sat on his forehead to try and keep him cool. His eyes were squinted shut in pain, mouth open to intake each pathetic pant and gasp for air.
A thick layer of sweat covered his flushed face.
When you rounded the corner and took another step towards him, another person stepped in front of you with bared teeth. A beta– and a protective one at that.
“She is here to heal Minho, Jisung. Back off.” Seungmin called out quickly.
Jisung’s jaw clenches and he hesitates for a moment before taking a step away from you.
Quickly, you walk over to the edge of the bed. You go to reach for the blankets, but you stop your hands over the top.
You turn around and look at Chan, at the Alpha of the pack. “May I?”
His gaze softens for a moment at your sign of respect. Chan nods and you turn back, slowly peeling back the covers.
Minho’s eyes squint tighter and he winces in pain.
The gauze wrapped around his stomach is already soaked through with pus and blood.
Your heart drops to your gut and you place your satchel of healing ingredients on the bed next to him.
“I’m going to cut the gauze off,” you say out loud to the room before picking up a small dagger.
The air thickens in the room as your fingers curl around the weapon. Gingerly, you reach forward and slice through the soaked bandages.
Minho groans in pain and squirms a bit, he’s awake, but obviously feverish. Placing your hand on his cheek, it’s like you put your hands over a fire, he’s burning up.
Once the gauze is off a gasp catches in your throat. Yes, the wound is covered in crushed Snow Weed, but the infection is leaking out all around it.
The skin surrounding the wound is purple and angry. How has he survived this long?
“What happened to make him this way?” You asked, inspecting the wound.
“Arrow wound,” Jisung answers quickly. “He told no one about it until he suddenly collapsed in pain days later. The infection had already taken root by that time.”
You look up at his face, twisted in pain. So, he’s a stubborn bastard.
“I am going to need a fresh pale of water and a clean rag. Do any of you know of the Dusk Tulip?”
When you receive no response, you turn around and look over your shoulder. Five lycans stare back at you blankly.
“Do any of you know what a Tulip looks like?”
Hyunjin nods. You zero in on him. “It is a Tulip that grows at the base of Maple trees. Dark purple in color. I need as many as you can get me.”
Hyunjin nods and immediately turns around to sprint out of the shack.
Jisung moves quickly as well, gathering fresh water and a rag for you.
You move briskly, dipping the rag in the cold water and ringing out the excess.
“Hail, Minho,” you say to him. He doesn’t acknowledge you, but you know he can hear you. “My name is Y/N, I am the village healer for Beckinsale. And I apologize, this is not going to feel pleasant at all.”
Taking a deep breath, you bring the cloth down to wipe away the Snow Weed coating and the infection that’s seeping out.
Minho grunts and tenses up.
With great care, you clean his wound. The coolness of the water brings a slight bit of relief to his feverish skin.
“Jisung,” you say without looking over at him. “Can you fetch a second pail of water, please?”
Wordlessly, he walks away to grab it.
Chan has not left the corner of the room, he watches you work on Minho wordlessly. His amber gaze scrutinizes every single move you make.
With the wound cleaned off, you watch as the outside edges go from purple to a deep red. You’re giving the wound a few moments to breathe before taking the next step.
The pail of fresh water is placed next to you. You thank Jisung and dip the new, clean rag into it.
You take the sweat covered rag off Minho’s forehead and begin to dab away at his flushed skin. His breathing is extremely labored and hot against your bare arm.
You let your eyes roam over his face. Even pulled in pain, he’s absolutely gorgeous.
The rag with cold water runs all over his face. He keens and leans into it, eyes still closed. Your fingers push his hair off his forehead.
“Chan,” you address the alpha. “You may need to hold him down as I draw the infection out.”
“It will hurt?”
You bite your lip and look down at Minho’s pained face. “Aye, very much so.”
Chan’s boots thud against the wooden floor as he approaches the bed.
“Apologies, Minho. Please know my intentions are not ill.”
Reluctantly, you move away from Minho’s side after placing the fresh, water soaked rag on his forehead.
Chan stands over Minho, hands hovering over his shoulders, ready to grab him.
You move your palms to slightly waver over the wound. Slowly, your eyes shut and you concentrate on the energy within you.
Your hands begin to heat up and emanate a soft, yellow glow.
Within a few seconds, Minho begins to groan in pain. Since your eyes are shut, you’re not able to look at his face and see the way he writhes in anguish.
Chan grabs his shoulders tightly and keeps him down on the bed.
The heat from your palm draws out the infection slowly. With each passing second, Minho’s grunts and growls grow louder and deeper.
“How long will this take?” Chan asks through gritted teeth.
“Only a few more moments, apologies. The infection was in his system for days.”
Since Minho is so lost in the throes of his mind, he doesn’t fight back nearly as much as you thought he would. Either that, or his pain tolerance is something out of this world.
Sweat drips down your face from concentration.
Once you’re sure the entire infection is clear from his system, you drop the spell and take a deep breath. Your eyes open and you look down at the wound.
It looks entirely clean.
Hyunjin comes barreling through the door before you can say anything.
Both you and Chan’s heads whip around.
“Are these correct?” He holds out a bushel full of Dusk Tulips.
“Aye,” you say, relieved, and take them from him. “Perfect. I just need to stitch the wound closed first before I can use these. Thank you.”
Pulling out a needle and thread, you get everything ready to suture the wound shut.
“We did not shut the wound previously because we thought the Snow Weed took away infection,” Seungmin says from behind you.
“Snow Weed creates an impenetrable covering for wounds. You should use it for when large chunks of skin are missing and cannot be sewn shut.” The thread goes through the eye of the needle. “It is still a smart move to put Snow Weed over a wound, do not misinterpret my words.
“In the case of infection, you need to let it come out of the wound, you were mistakenly keeping it in.”
Chan huffs and takes a few steps away from the bed now that he doesn’t need to hold Minho down.
Minho’s face seems to have relaxed considerably. His eyebrows are no longer pinched together, lips parted in a sleeping manner.
“Just a few more moments, Minho. This will not hurt.” You whisper down to him before making the first stitch.
He doesn’t even flinch. But you were also known for being extremely gentle when it came to sutures.
You stick a hand full of Dusk Tulip petals in your mouth and start grinding them between your teeth. Spitting the mass in your hand, you start to press the paste down on the now-closed wound.
“Do you have any fresh bandages?” You turn to Jisung to ask. He nods and rummages through a drawer and gives you the roll.
“I can assist and sit him up.” Seungmin comes closer to the bed. He gently sits Minho up whose muscles are so limp he may as well be a ragdoll.
With the bandage secure around his stomach, Minho is laid back down on the bed.
You grab the rag and dip it in water once more, dabbing any excess sweat from his beautiful skin. You run the rag over his cheeks, down his neck and around the top of his chest.
After swiping over his scent gland, the smell hits you like a ton of bricks.
A fresh citrus and woodsy aroma wraps around you like a python. All of your senses light up like a flame.
Every muscle in your body seizes.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
No way. He’s your…
Quickly, you place the wet rag on his forehead once more and start gathering up your equipment.
“He should wake up in a few hours. Allow him to get plenty of rest. You can change his gauze twice a day. Apply more crushed Dusk Tulips to the wound if the infection persists, but it should be completely gone from his system.”
Your voice wavers and everything falls out quickly. Clearing your throat, you throw everything back into your satchel.
Minho shifts around on the bed, his nose twitching.
“ M…Mate… ”
You cough loudly and turn around to face the other lycans.
“May I please return to my village now?”
Chan eyes you closely, then Minho, then back to you. With each moment, you can feel your heart rate increasing. He’s deadpan for a second and then nods.
“Aye, we will have someone accompany you back to Beckinsale.”
“No need,” you blurt out quickly and walk briskly towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you all.”
Before they can respond, you’re out the door, and back into the Enchanted Forest.
Back in the hut, Jisung walks back to Minho’s side and sits on the stool next to the bed.
“Thank the Gods we crossed paths with her,” he says, adjusting the blanket around Minho.
“I have a feeling it will not be the last time we see her,” Hyunjin says cockily, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What do you mean?” Jisung turns to him.
“You will find out soon enough.”
------------------------------------------
Minho was floating in a pool of pain for so long. His mind kept coming in and out to the sound of his pack member’s voices.
They were talking to him, trying to get him to open his eyes. He just couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried.
The infection took him by the heart and had him in its evil grip.
For days he went in and out, he had no idea how much time had passed since he was shot with that arrow.
All Minho knew was that he was going to be dead soon. That much was certain.
Until the door to the hut opened and it was like he walked into a Holiday Bakery; cinnamon, apples, and vanilla twisted around his soul and sped up his slowing heart rate.
What was that beautiful smell?
“She is here to heal Minho, Jisung. Back off.”
Who? Who was here to heal him? They brought a healer in? Chan allowed them to bring a healer to their den?
The scent gets stronger and stronger. It’s almost enough motivation for Minho to pry his eyes open.
“May I?”
Oh, that sweet, melodic voice. Angels are jealous of that sound, Minho is certain of that.
Your touch is so ginger, he could cry. Minho’s almost forgotten all about the wound drawing his very soul down to the Underworld.
“Hail, Minho.”
Every nerve in his body sings at the sound of his name tumbling from your mouth. He’s not even sure what you look like, but he knows you’re gorgeous. An angel, you have to look like an angel. If he was able to open his eyes, you would have a halo above your head.
“My name is Y/N, I am the village healer for Beckinsale. And I apologize, this is not going to feel pleasant at all.”
Beckinsale? Are you sure you’re not a being of the afterlife here to hold him and keep him safe?
Y/N from Beckinsale who smells like the sweetest pastry he could ever hope to sink his sharp teeth into.
A rag is dipped into water and the cool bite brings relief over his feverish skin. A sigh of relief comes from his nose.
He falls into the feeling of you surrounding him. The way your scent wafts through his body and soothes his very soul.
The pain of his wound is long forgotten about.
“Apologies, Minho. Please know my intentions are not ill.”
Whatever you say, Angel.
Minho is vaguely aware of the pain that grips his stomach, it’s searing, like it’s being cauterized.
But your scent, your beautiful, angelic scent keeps his mind distracted and in the clouds.
Second by second, the pain gets less and less. The weight that’s been sitting in his chest begins to lift. Heat still hovers over his body, but it only feels like he sat a bit too close to a campfire.
Then, for the first time since his injury, Minho begins to drift off to a peaceful sleep. Not one where he’s riddled with fever dreams and infection induced nightmares. No, a dreamless sleep surrounded by cinnamon, apples, and vanilla.
Will you still be here when he wakes up?
He needs you there.
He hasn’t even seen your face! You’re his fated other half!
Minho tries with all his might to wake up, but the comfort of sleep finally wins when you run your beautifully soft fingers through his sweaty hair.
There’s a slight spike in your scent.
You pull away from him quickly.
No, no, no.
Come back. No, please.
“M… Mate.”
You don’t hear him, you mustn’t have. You’re still leaving, please don’t go. No, please.
Your scent gets weaker and weaker. It no longer sits in the room with you.
Minho gives up and falls asleep on the sweat covered bed.
Y/N from Beckinsale.
It definitely won’t be the last time he’s in a room with you.
------------------------------------------
“Now,” you put your hands on your hips after tying the tiniest bandage around a little boy’s knee. “What did we learn about running in the alley?”
“Not to…” he sniffles and wipes the snot leaking from his nose.
You laugh and reach forward, wiping the tears from his eyes gently.
“Exactly, now go on back home for dinner.” You laugh and ruffle his hair. “There’s a basket full of sweets by the door, make sure you grab one. I read in a book somewhere that they make wounds heal faster.”
His eyes light up and he hops off the table, running towards the door and grabbing an entire handful of sweets.
“Thank you, Y/N!” he yells as he runs outside.
Another laugh falls from your lips and you clean up the patient table he was sitting on.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see an almost empty tonic bottle sitting on your workbench.
It’s been three weeks since you healed Minho in the middle of the Enchanted Forest. It’s been three weeks since you had access to Orange Needle Lilies
And it’s been three weeks since you’ve found your mate.
You need more flowers for your own safety. But if you venture back into their land, would they let you leave this time?
Biting your lip nervously, you pace around the floor.
You should’ve asked. You should’ve said that was your one condition for healing him. But were you really in the position to be making demands?
“Shit,” you mutter, still staring at the bottle.
Not having the scent blocker is not a chance you’re willing to take. Especially since there’s an alpha in your village that has been eyeing you up like fresh meat for months now.
You need those flowers.
If you run into the pack, maybe they’ll spare you. You did save Minho’s life after all.
Within a few moments, you have your travel boots laced up and your satchel across your body. A dagger sits comfortably in your pocket.
You’re out the door and walking into the enchanted forest before you can think twice about it.
The air gets thicker the deeper you get into the woods, that’s something you always noticed. It gets heavier and inflates your lungs differently.
A hum rings low through the trees.
Get in, pick the flowers, get out. Get in, pick the flowers, get out.
Your usual area is a clearing in the trees by a babbling brook. The sound of the water flowing over the rocks is usually enough to help conceal your presence to the wolf pack.
You will not slip and fall again.
With a racing heart, you lean down and start clipping the Lilies out of the ground. All of your senses on high alert to your surroundings.
After only about 4 flowers, a twig snaps behind you.
All of your muscles freeze, your blood runs cold.
Slowly, you stand up and look around. Maybe it was just an animal that ran by. Could’ve been a rabbit, or a squirrel.
“You have a lot of nerve coming back here, I will give you that.”
Or a wolf.
“Seungmin,” you gulp and look at the ground nervously. “I apologize, I truly mean no disrespect, I just need these-“
“Flowers, yes, I understand.”
He walks closer to you, face completely unreadable. You look up from the ground at the beta.
Tattered shorts and a mostly ripped shirt adorn his body.
“You cannot keep coming here, Y/N.”
“Please, you do not understand I-“
“Y/N.”
His tone is somewhat begging.
“Seungmin, they do not grow anywhere else.”
“You will have to find an alternative.”
Your jaw clenches and your heart squeezes. An alternative to a scent blocker?
“I do not see the harm in my being here. I only require flowers.”
Your own bravery surprises you.
“If we let you galavant all over our land, we would have to let everyone do so.”
“Galavant? I am picking flowers!” You sputter and frown, an angry look begins pulling at your face. You take a few steps closer to Seungmin.
The beta bristles outwardly at your confrontation but holds his ground.
“Do you forget that I saved your packmate’s life? I am only asking to come pick flowers. Flowers that will save my life.”
His eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“Your life?”
“I am unmarked, Seungmin. If he catches a whiff I-“
You cut yourself off. Looking down at the ground, you sigh, throat constricting with frustrated tears.
“Just forget it. I will not bother your pack anymore.”
Both of you stand in silence for a long moment before you gather yourself and brush past Seungmin.
You bump your shoulder into his.
It’s petty, but you do it.
“By the way,” you start without looking back. “I can tell by the redness of your eyes you are beginning to fall ill with a seasonal sickness. Chew on onion stems to help keep the symptoms at bay.”
And with that, you walk away from the clearing. Only four Lilies in your satchel.
------------------------------------------
“I am fully healed and you know it, you should have let me go with Seungmin.” Minho’s voice has a sharp bite to it.
Chan continues walking away, not giving Minho the time of day. But the younger wolf walks after him.
“Seungmin can handle one person by himself,” Chan responds, picking up the ax to cut firewood.
“I am aware of that, but you will not let me leave the den. Why am I some sort of prisoner now?”
“Drop it, Minho.”
He splits a log in half with a mighty swing.
“One measly little injury and suddenly you imprison me!”
“Minho.”
Another swing.
“It has been weeks and every time I try to go anywhere you look down upon me.”
“You almost died!” Chan whips around at him, fire in his eyes. “And if it were not for that human you would be dead.” He spits at him.
The way he sneers when he mentions you has Minho’s blood boiling. Anger creeps up under his collar and into his mind.
“Do not speak of her as if she is scum,” Minho growls.
Chan’s eyebrows furrow further in anger. “I never said she was scum, you made that jump yourself.”
Both lycans stare each other in the eye, neither wanting to be the one that breaks the intense eye contact.
“You do not even know her, Minho.”
“I do not need to!”
A whoosh followed by snapping comes from the edge of the woods.
“Another pissing contest?” Seungmin sighs as he walks closer to the two brooding Alphas.
Chan glares at Minho for a moment longer before looking at Seungmin, who was chewing on an onion stem.
“Did you take care of the problem?”
“Aye, it was only-“
“Good.” Chan interrupts him and turns to walk away. He only just started chopping wood; why was he leaving already? And why did he cut Seungmin off?
“Who was it?” Minho presses, lips pursing in confusion.
Seungmin’s eyes flicker from Minho, to Chan, then back to Minho before shaking his head.
“A stray beggar. I took care of the problem.”
He shifts from foot to foot and then walks past Minho. The wind kicks up at that moment.
That’s when Minho smells it.
Cinnamon, apples, and vanilla.
Acting on instinct, Minho’s hand flies out and grabs Seungmin’s tattered shirt in a death-like grip.
He yanks him to be nose to nose.
“It was her,” he grits out between his teeth. “Y/N was there.”
Surprise flickers through Seungmin’s eyes. His hand comes up and grabs Minho’s to try and get him to release his collar.
Chan stops mid step and turns to look at them.
“My mate was here. That’s why you would not allow me to go with Seungmin. Not because you were concerned about my health.”
Minho grips Seungmin even tighter.
“What did you do to her?” He barks. “Did you hurt her? If you even laid a hand on her, I swear to the Gods, I will-“
Seungmin shoves his shoulder roughly. “You will do what? Nothing, now back off. I did not even touch her, she pushed into me as she was leaving.”
“Why was she here?” Minho presses.
“Drop it, Minho.” Chan growls.
He ignores him, “Why does she keep coming here?”
“Flowers.” Seungmin snaps at him, walking away from the two bristling lycans. “She comes here for Orange Needle Lilies, she uses them as a scent blocker.”
“A scent blocker?” Minho asks. Chan doesn’t respond. He stares him down, his alpha gaze does nothing to unnerve his packmate.
A feeling of dread begins to crawl up his spine and settles at the back of his neck.
Minho turns on his heel, his mind made up.
There’s a rough yank on the back of his collar. Involuntarily, Minho growls and turns, teeth bared at whoever grabbed him.
Chan looks down at him with an equally challenging look.
“Where do you think you are going?” Chan barks.
“To Beckinsale,” Minho answers dangerously.
“No, you are not.’
“You are not my father. I am going to see my mate.” Minho shoves away from him.
“I am your pack leader and I am saying no , Minho.”
“To Hell with you, Chan.”
With one last push against his shoulders, Minho frees himself from Chan. They both stare at each other for a long moment, neither wolf saying anything, and neither want to give up.
Eventually, Minho bares his teeth and rolls his eyes before walking away back into the hut.
That nagging, anxious feeling continuously pricks at the back of his neck, making all of his hair stand up on the end.
Something is happening, something is wrong, he just knows it.
------------------------------------------
The last of your scent blocking salve was used three days ago.
Since then you’ve rarely left your home and if you did, you wore a high necked blouse or scarf. You made yourself scarce around the village.
You’re going to have to return to normal life soon, and you will. But not now.
Not when your heat is only a day or so away. It could hit any second now, you can feel the beginning stages thrumming within you. Your skin crawls with tiny pin pricks.
This will be your first heat without scent blockers. And the thought of it is making you a humming ball of anxiety.
There was only one problem– you needed food to make it through the next few days, and that meant leaving your home. Any other alpha or beta will be able to smell you from miles away. As soon as you step outside your door, you’re surely done for.
You bite your thumbnail and pace right by your front door. A tight, high-collared sweater adorned with a thick knit scarf on top rests on your body.
Why didn’t you go out earlier?
Staring down out the window, you find your courage– you need food to get through this, there’s no way you’ll make it through without proper nutrition.
Without another moment to hesitate, you open the door and make your way down to the local market. You wrap the scarf even tighter around your neck and keep your head down.
The sun set about twenty minutes ago, darkness creeping through the sky.
You decide to take back alleys and less populated streets to the market– at the time, it seemed like the best idea.
It wasn’t until you passed by someone and a low growl came from their throat that you realized that it was, in fact, the worst decision you could’ve ever made.
The growl was followed by a deep inhale.
Gulping, you try to walk faster to the market, the end of the alleyway was only about fifteen meters away.
‘Shit, shit, shit.’ You think to yourself.
“Mmm,” the male hums from the back of his throat. “If it isn’t the village healer.”
Your blood runs cold. Out of all the people in Beckinsale, it had to be him. The Blacksmith’s son who had been eyeing you for months, maybe even years– preaching around the village about he was going to lay claim to you one day.
Deciding to ignore him and keep walking, you pick up the pace, your legs carrying you faster down the alleyway.
“Do not be daft, girl, I know you heard me.”
Fear creeps up the back of your neck and into your hair. Just keep walking, Y/N. Get into a more populated area.
A strong, vice grip snatches your wrist and yanks you backwards.
Before you could scream, a hand clamps over your mouth and your body is slammed backwards into the alleyway wall. The stone connects with the back of your skull with a crack.
Rotten, nasty smells surround your nose and your body physically recoils away from it. The Blacksmith’s son was a huge, stocky man whose outward appearance accurately reflected his strength. The hand over your mouth was about as big as your face.
“Is that a heat I smell, little omega?” He leans down further, crowding your space. His greasy hair hangs in front of his eyes.
Alpha eyes getting darker and darker as the smell of your heat seeps through the collar of your shirt and scarf.
His other hand comes up and rips the scarf away from your neck.
You squeal behind his hand and reach up, trying your hardest to pry it off your mouth to scream for help. Your nails scratch at his leathery skin, your entire body writhes around against the stone.
Please, anybody come into the alley, please.
His head ducks down and goes right into the crook of your neck and takes a deep inhale. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes when you hear the dark growl rumble in his chest.
You shove as hard as you can against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. All those years working as a blacksmith has left him built like a brick wall.
“Holy fuck you smell so good,” he moans into your ear taking in your scent. You’re sure you couldn’t smell that good, not with the fear you’re feeling coursing through your veins and souring the scent.
He leans back, eyes completely black. The tears in your eyes spill down your cheeks.
“Cannot wait to claim you as my omega.”
Thick fingers reach up to the top of your shirt and in one sharp movement, he tears open the front, all of the buttons pop open and fly out onto the stone.
Another cry is muffled by his hand.
Your scent seeps through the alley, filling the cracks in the pavement.
Sobs wrack your chest.
“Good little omega…” His disgusting fingers trail down your neck.
Right as they’re about to touch your scent gland, one of the deepest, darkest, strongest growls shoots down the alley.
Both of you jolt.
Your eyes frantically look over at the source; scream after scream being muffled by the Blacksmith’s hand.
Bright, amber eyes glare down the alleyway with murderous intent.
The very sight of them fills you with an unreal level of relief.
“Get your vile hands off my mate .”
His voice is like a balm over your fear. You’ve never felt such instant relief to your emotions in your life. It’s like putting a safety blanket over your shoulders. A haze falls over your mind at the melody.
Mate, alpha, mate, safe, mate.
“Get the fuck outta here, she is unclaimed,” your captor snarls back.
Another snarl comes from the other man.
He begins to take step after step towards the two of you, each one faster than the other.
Once his face is visible, your heart leaps in your chest.
Minho.
Your mate came to save you.
His eyes lock with yours, they soften considerably as they gaze upon your fear twisted face, the tears still stream down your cheeks.
It’s the first time he’s seeing your face. His entire world seems to stop.
You try to whimper his name but it’s still muffled.
Minho’s eyes flicker back to your captor, darkening once more.
“I am giving you one last opportunity to let her go before I tear your throat out.” Minho snarls, still striding towards you. His boots click on the stone.
“I would love to see you try–” The Blacksmith is cut off when Minho punches a sharp right hook into his nose. He stumbles and falls to the ground, clutching at his face. Blood oozes through his fingers.
You’re able to breathe through your mouth finally.
“Alpha.” Is the only word you’re able to utter at Minho, chest rising and falling with heavy pants. Your mate’s eyes snap to yours.
He takes in your form carefully, sweeping over each of your features lovingly. Your eyebrows pull together, your skin begins burning with a need to be touching him. You need him to hold you, touch you, kiss you– anything.
“Alpha, please,” you hiss.
He steps closer to you, taking his cloak off from around his shoulders. He wraps it around you carefully, closing the front.
Fresh citrus and woods envelopes you and you could cry even more from the relief his scent brings you. A gentle kiss is pressed to your forehead.
“Just one moment, dear.”
Minho steps away from you, face immediately morphing into one of murderous intent as he looks at the Blacksmith.
The pathetic man looks up at him with a frightened yelp. “Get away from me!” He cries out.
Minho’s scent invades your senses, wrapping around you and putting you in a protective bubble. You’re vaguely aware of the sounds of Minho beating the living daylights out of the Blacksmith but you couldn’t care less.
Your heat decided to hit you like a brick wall the moment Minho stepped into your senses. Suddenly, he’s the only thing your brain knows.
You sink down onto the ground, shrinking in on yourself inside Minho’s warm cloak.
Muffled screams and muted punches ring out in the background. But you can only mewl softly, curling further and further into the fabric.
You don’t even register when the fighting stops. Two warm hands are grabbing you gently, bringing your chin up to meet dazzling brown eyes.
Minho looks over every inch of your face, his thumbs come up and wipe the tear streaks off your cheeks.
“Did he hurt you?” Everything about his voice is so tender; its a complete one-eighty from the way he was speaking to the Blacksmith.
You shake your head, unable to tear your eyes away from his. Your lids droop, chest still heaving with pants.
It’s like an unscratchable itch settles in your smalls.
The longer you surround yourself in Minho’s scent, the wetter and wetter your slick gets the fabric.
“Alpha,” you murmur again, leaning into his touch.
His jaw clenches and he cups you closely, his thumb swipes back and forth over the soft skin of your cheek. Every ounce of his self restraint is being tested.
Minho’s cock jumps in his pants at the sight of you desperate before him.
His resolve on following Chan’s wishes broke about two hours ago when his wolf kept screaming at him to find you, that something was wrong.
Chan be damned, his instincts kept you safe.
“Let’s get you home, Y/N.” He reaches forward and scoops you up into his arms.
As the fabric of his cloak shifts around, your scent mixed with his puffs out and into his nose. An audible moan pulls from his throat and he has to shut his eyes and focus on staying calm lest he wanted to take you against the alleyway wall.
The way your warm, homey smells blends together seamlessly with this outdoorsy ones sends Minho’s brain into a frenzy.
Mate, claim, mate, mark, mate. HIs wolf howls at him.
He takes a deep, shaky breath and stands up with you in his arms. You whimper and curl into him further.
Your head falls into the crook of his neck, your nose nudging at his scent gland.
It’s driving him insane.
“Y/N,” he strains out. “Where– Which way?” He asks.
You moan into his neck, rubbing your head all over him, further blending your scents. His knees almost give out right then and there.
“Need you, Alpha.” Your hand comes out of the cloak and grabs at his shirt.
“I am right here, my little omega.” Minho presses his lips to your forehead. “Please,” he whispers into your skin. “Let me get you home and I will do whatever you need, Y/N. Your alpha will take good care of you.”
Releasing his shirt, you point in one direction down the alley.
Minho doesn’t hesitate, he briskly walks in that direction, keeping you close to his chest. Throughout the entire walk, you motion in vague directions while nosing at his neck, leaving small pecks that make his legs turn to jelly.
You coo softly against him, squirming around every few seconds as your heat takes a hold of your body.
The timer on his self control is ticking down by the second.
He’s been dreaming about you ever since you took care of him like some angel from the afterlife, and now that he finally has you in his arms, he never wants to let go.
Finally, you point to a small cottage tucked away in the corner of the village.
Minho heaves a sigh of relief and almost sprints up to the door, opening it and stepping inside so fast you would think someone was chasing him.
The entire cottage smells like you in the best way.
After spending night after night trying to recall just how sweet you smell, being inside your cottage feels like a dip in a hot bath.
He makes his way through the house and into a room that holds a large bed in the middle.
How can a cottage he’s never set foot in feel so familiar ?
With great care, he lays you down on your bed. When he goes to stand up, your arms lock around his neck.
“No, Alpha, please,” you whine into his neck. “Need you so bad. I need my alpha.”
Minho audibly groans, he has to place a hand on the bed to stop his body from crumpling.
“I will be right back, my dove. I only need to check the locks on the door.”
He buried his own face in your neck, inhaling your gorgeous scent. You keen and coo at his attention.
“You will come right back?” You ask.
“Aye, I will. You will not even know I left the room.”
You press one long, last kiss to the crook of his neck before slowly unwinding your arms from around his neck.
Minho peels himself away from you and goes back to the front door, checking each and every lock on the door and windows.
He should take more time to really inspect each one, but his inner wolf is absolutely clawing at his self control.
Mate. Mark. Claim. Mate. Mine.
Sweat drips down the back of his neck, his hands shaking.
But as much as his wolf wanted to claim you, he also wanted to protect you and never let a single thing ever happen to you again. He would make sure that you were never put into harm's way.
The last lock is inspected and secure.
Minho turns on his heel and practically runs back to your room.
The smell of your arousal permeates the air thicker and thicker the closer he gets to your room. You smell so sickeningly sweet, he can’t wait to sink his teeth into you.
Tiny whimpers invade his ears and each one sends a shot of arousal to his cock.
He knocks on your door before entering.
His mouth goes dry, his inner wolf howls.
In the time that it took for him to check the locks, you pushed pillows and blankets into a nest, his cloak right under your head.
You also stripped yourself of all your clothes. Your beautiful nude form right in the middle of the bed.
Fingers buried deep into your cunt.
Slick drips down your folds and onto the sheets.
Your fingers seem to be doing nothing to help your hazy state. There was only one thing that could help.
“Minho,” you moan out, turning your head to look at him. A thin sheen of sweat covers your body. “ Please. ”
His instincts decide to push him into the passenger’s seat.
He’s striding to you as fast as his legs would take him, his hands already working on ripping his own shirt off.
A growl tears from his throat as he climbs on the bed, stalking up your body with predator-like eyes.
“Did you make a pretty nest for us, little one?”
You nod with a scarlet haze over the bridge of your nose and up your cheeks to your ears.
Minho wastes no time smashing your lips together. He licks and sucks your mouth like it’s candy.
He cages you down on the mattress with his strong arms. Your free hand threads into his hair and keeps him as close as possible.
It’s sloppy and disgusting, spit leaks out down your chin. Your tongues dance with one another, he licks around your mouth while you whimper and suck on his tongue.
Neither of you can control the noises you’re making.
Your walls clench down on your own fingers.
“Been dreaming of you every single night, omega.” He growls against your lips before capturing them again. “Your scent has been driving me wild.”
Mewing, you bite his lower lip and pull back for it to snap back against his teeth.
Slowly, Minho can feel the itch of his own rut beginning to tickle at the base of his spine. Your heat must be triggering it.
“I have never smelled anything as good as you do.” Minho trails his wet kisses down your neck to lick all over your skin. He stops at your scent gland, his tongue raking over it in slow, long, wet, strokes.
He’s taking his time like he would with a dessert.
Every single lick makes you moan and keen into his touch. Your fingers start thrusting in and out of yourself faster and faster. But it doesn’t help, it only makes you burn even more.
“Minho,” you pant, pulling on his hair. He fights against your pull, not wanting to be parted from your scent gland. “Minho!” You try again, whining.
He growls low in his throat, one of his hands coming down to glide down the side of your body to your hip. His large palm rests against your red hot skin.
The licks and sucks are sending you wild.
“Alpha!” You cry out, his body jolts a bit and he finally lifts his head. Blacked out, hazy eyes watch you closely. “Need you to touch me please. ”
Minho smirks and keeps eye contact with you while kissing down your body. He bites your collarbones, kisses the skin between them, then underneath them.
When he gets down to your breast, he envelopes an entire nipple in his mouth and sucks hard .
You cry out, your head tilting back to arch off the bed.
Minho has none of that, this alpha wants eye contact, he wants submission to him. He fists a hand in your hair and yanks your head so that you look at him.
“Eyes on me, Omega.” He licks around your pebbled bud again, sucking harshly. “Perfect,” he says around your nipple. “Perfect for our pups to suckle on.”
Pride rips through you at your alpha’s words. Your heat has you in its clutches, the only thing your body wants is to make pups, breed, fuck, get pregnant.
Minho switches to the other nipple, keeping his eyes on you. Your hand still in his hair cards through gently, pushing the strands off his forehead.
After a harsh bite, you grab a fistful with a moan.
Meanwhile, your slick is dripping down your fingers and staining the sheets underneath you. Every flick of his tongue makes you clench around your fingers.
You start to thrust in and out in time with his licks.
It’s still not enough.
Your eyebrows knit together and you whine, trying to curl your own fingers to make you feel good.
Minho notices your struggle and smirks. “Do you need your alpha to touch you?”
“Yes!” you cry out, frustration creeping down your collar. “I need my alpha so bad!”
Minho hums and runs his hand down your body to grab your wrist. He sits up after leaving one more mark on your chest.
Carefully, he pulls your fingers out of your cunt with a wet squelch.
“Fuck,” he groans under his breath as he watches your slick drip down your folds. The smell is absolutely intoxicating.
Minho brings your hand up to his mouth, he licks all the way up your forearm, up your hand, to take your fingers into his mouth.
His hips jolt forward at your taste.
If he thought your scent was amazing, then your taste was otherworldly.
His eyes close and he loses himself in your taste, suckling on your lithe fingers, tongue swirling around the digits.
You’re panting while watching him. Wherever he touches you is the only place that stops burning with need and desire.
“Minho…” you coo and your hips wiggle around impatiently.
Bringing your hand out of his mouth, he stares directly at your glistening folds.
“Need to taste you more.”
He practically dives in, tongue licking a long strip from bottom to the top, circling your clit to lap back down at your hole.
Your entire body arcs and you scream out in pleasure. One hand flies down to pull at his hair again, your hips grind into his face.
It feels so good .
Minho grabs your hips, thumbs pressing down on the bone to keep you still.
He’s losing himself second by second in your juices. It’s like he’s drinking a honeyed ale, he’s getting absolutely drunk on you.
The entire world could collapse around the two of you right now and he wouldn’t stop.
His rut seems to have taken full control of his body.
Mate, mark, claim, taste, fuck, breed.
His cock is so fucking hard in his trousers but he doesn’t want to take his mouth away from you, not for a second.
Over and over again he laps at your clit, each time you moan and pull his hair.
Incoherent babbles fall from your lips telling him how good he’s making you feel, how much you need him.
“Close, close, close,” you repeat like a prayer, a rubber band pulling tighter and tighter inside you.
One of his hands moves from your hip to thrust two fingers into your pulsing hole. Minho’s eyes roll back in his head at how soft and velvety you feel around his fingers.
His wolf howls at him to fuck you already, to sink his cock inside you and cum over and over again until it takes hold.
But the man wants— no, needs— you to cum in his mouth.
His tongue flicks over your clit at the same time he curls his fingers up to hit a spot within you and your body tenses.
Instead of crying out, your mouth stretches open and no sound comes out.
Your walls clamp down on his fingers and pulse as your orgasm rips through you. The grip on his hair tightens so much.
As your juices leak out around his fingers, he laps it up greedily.
Once the main waves of your orgasm pass, you finally let out a strained grunt, chest heaving with pants and moans.
His name falls from you like a mantra.
The itch within you was scratched, but just for a split second. The moment you come down from your orgasm, that burning begins once more.
He knows it. He knows the only thing that’ll make it go away is his knot.
His fingers slide out of you and he crawls over you to hover over your panting form.
Your hair is frizzy and messy, eyes hazy and fucked out, swollen lips parted. Minho desperately wants this image of you to stay burned into his memory.
“Minho,” you moan to him.
“Taste how delicious you are.” Gently, he pushes his fingers past your lips.
Immediately, your tongue licks around his digits. The feeling causes him to buck his hips forward into yours. His clothed cock ruts into your soaking cunt.
Both of you moan together.
You suck on his fingers and taste whatever you can.
He can only take it for a few seconds before he pulls them away and replaces them with his tongue.
The taste of your juices is swapped between your tongues.
“Need you,” you moan between kisses. “Need my alpha.” Kiss. “Need your knot.”
Once more he bucks into you involuntarily. He needs you just as bad as you need him.
“I will give you what you want.” He bites your lip. “My little omega.”
He pulls away from you. “Flip over for me, little one.”
Immediately, you do what he says.
Minho stands up from the bed to shuck off his trousers and heavy boots. His cock springs free and he strokes himself a few times, eyes following how you arch your back on your hands and knees, presenting yourself for him.
His tongue licks his lips and then it pulls between his teeth.
You’re so fucking gorgeous.
“Alpha, please ,” you whine and look back over your shoulders.
He crawls back onto the mattress and gives your ass cheek a sharp slap.
“Be patient.”
Minho lines up behind you, fisting the base of his cock. He rubs it up and down your slick.
The two of you moan out in unison.
Mewling, you push your hips backwards to try and spear yourself on him. Minho is quick to slap your asscheek again.
“Omegas who do not behave do not get their alpha’s knots.” His hand rubs over where he slapped.
You whine and bury your face into his cloak still bunched underneath you. Your back arches more and you can’t keep still.
Your hips twitch, hole clenching around nothing the more he rubs his cock head in your slick.
“Minho!” You whine, the frustration is killing you.
He clicks his tongue at your impatience. “Fine, then. I will give you what you want.”
His tone is dark and he shoves into you without further notice.
Your walls stretch around him deliciously. He’s so big you think you can feel him in your throat. The pleasure shoots right into your thighs.
Minho’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling of your wetness surrounding him.
He doesn’t even try to take it slow. His wolf holds the reins tightly and begins slamming into you over and over again.
He’s thrusting so hard, his hips slap into your ass with each stroke.
More babbling comes from your mouth.
Minho reaches forward and grabs a fistful of your hair, lifting your head up from the cloak.
Your tongue lulls out of your mouth.
“Fucking look at that,” he moans in awe. “Only inside you for a minute and you are already cock drunk.”
Your eyes glaze over and you lose yourself in the feeling of him abusing your little hole.
“Feel so fucking good wrapped around me. You were made for me, little omega.”
The only sound you are able to muster is a tiny ‘ mhmm! ’
“So fucking good for me, good for your alpha.”
“Only for you, Alpha!”
A sharp smack lands on your ass again, you cry out.
“That’s right. Just for me. Just for your alpha. No one else. This cunt right here is all mine. ”
He looks down at where he can see his cock disappearing inside you to come back out coated in your delicious slick. It makes him feel insane.
Minho can’t control himself anymore, not that he would want to.
It’s animalistic, the way he wants to devour you.
He tugs on your hair and brings you up so your back is flush with his chest. The hand in your hair moves around to grab your throat. His other hand splays out on your lower stomach.
“Can fucking feel my cock fucking you right here.” He presses down on your stomach and your head falls back against his shoulder.
The moans you’re making are so involuntary.
“Going to stuff you so full of pups. You’ll look so fucking good pregnant, carrying our children. So swollen and full.”
At the base of his cock, Minho can feel his knot begin to form, it prods and catches on your entrance more every stroke.
“Please, please, please,” you cry like a mantra.
“You want that, little girl? You want to carry my pups? You want me to fuck a baby into you?”
“Yes! Please! Please, Minho! It feels so good!”
His inner wolf howls at your pleasure. It’s all he wants.
“Close, Alpha. Please, mark me, please, please.”
Minho’s hips stutter at your words, but when his tempo comes back, it’s rough . Every stroke is unforgiving, he’s racing towards the finish line as fast and hard as he can.
Fuck, he wants to claim you so bad. It’s all he’s wanted for weeks since you first set foot in the hut.
“My omega wants my mark? She wants me to claim her as mine?”
You nod in his grasp, he feels you gulp. “Yes! I need it. Need everyone to know I’m yours.”
Minho growls, his nose buries into the crook of your neck right at your scent gland.
The idea of you wearing his mark proudly makes him feral: you in low collared shirts to purposefully parade your mating mark, you nursing your pups with that bite inches away.
He needs it like he needs air to breathe. How can one person make him feel this way?
His hand squeezes a bit on your throat.
“I’ll give you my mark, Omega. I’ll claim you. You’ll be mine forever.”
He feels you clench down more. The knot at the base of his cock inflates more and more.
His orgasm is dangling in front of him teasingly. But he needs you to cum again, he needs to feel you clench down around him.
The muscles in his abdomen are painfully tight.
The hand on your hip moves to rub circles on your clit in time with his thrusts.
Sharp canines sink into your flesh around your scent gland.
One of the loudest cries of pleasure ever comes from deep within your chest. Your eyes squeeze shut and your walls clench around him as your second orgasm tears through you like a train.
Minho’s knot shoves inside you as his own pleasure peaks and hits him like a ton of bricks. The sweet metallic taste of your blood flooding his mouth, your scent keeping his brain on Earth.
Cum shoots from his cock and floods your walls for what feels like forever.
Neither of you have ever felt something so heavenly before. Two souls merge into one.
Slowly, you both start coming down to earth. Minho’s hand around your neck starts massaging at the sensitive skin.
You whine when he removes his teeth from your skin.
He coos and laps up at the blood streaming down your body. Small kisses pepper the outside of the mark.
Sweet nothings tumble from his lips. “Beautiful, beautiful mate. All mine. So sweet, so beautiful.”
Carefully, he maneuvers the two of you to lay down on your sides, his knot still buried within you. He has a feeling it will be there for a while.
He brings the blankets up over your exhausted bodies.
Your skin is no longer burning with need, instead you’re in a content, happy bubble, your mate’s arms wrapped around you safely.
Never in your life have you felt such comfort. You’re floating on a cloud.
His woodsy smell acts like a second blanket.
Small hums leave you as you snuggle back into his chest more.
Minho chuckles and kisses your bare shoulder.
Your brain comes out of your heat-induced fog. But, instead of panicking, you find yourself happier than ever.
One of your hands comes up to play with the fingers of the hand that’s by your head. His arm acting like a pillow.
“I would have gotten shot with an arrow sooner if it meant I would find you.” He jokes, breaking the silence.
You giggle. It’s music to his ears.
He continues. “Your voice broke through the delirium of the infection.” Another kiss to your shoulder. “I remember thinking you were an Angel here to bring me into the afterlife.”
You flush, embarrassed at his sweet words.
“And I remember thinking you were the most handsome man I have ever seen, even laying on your deathbed.”
He hums happily and leans up on his elbow. You turn around as much as you can to look up at him with a happy smile.
“It is nice to officially meet you, Minho.”
Your fingers come up to brush over his cheek gently.
His heart swells, eyes shine in the candlelight of your room.
“My beautiful mate.” He leans down and kisses you softly. “Thank you for saving my life.”
You’re hardly able to continue the kiss, you’re smiling too much. “And thank you for saving mine.”
His nose rubs against your cheek in a display of affection.
“No one will ever harm you again, my dove.”
You laugh and brush your fingers through his hair. Kiss after kiss lands on your bare skin. He focuses more on your mating mark.
It makes you feel giddy.
“Well,” you giggle. “I think you may need to protect me from your pack leader.”
Minho chuckles. “He will get over it. I would like to see him try and keep us apart now.”
He leans down and presses your lips together. “My beautiful omega.”
gulp~ they're right behind me arent they? well... more like on top!
☆BANGCHAN☆
whats your favorite scary movie? - after a mysterious call in the middle of the night threatens to ruin horror movie night with your friends, you cant help shake the feeling that someone's watching your every move. at this point you dont know what's worse: a creepy stalker managing to sneak his way into the house, or how awkward and fidgety chan's been all evening!
and so the lion fell in love with the lamb - after moving to romania against your parents' wishes to live a peaceful life with your dying grandfather, your dreams are plagued with visions of pale, almost shimmering skin, droplets of crimson red blood with the taste of the sweetest wine, and sharp fangs that make you sweat in your sleep. your grandfather can only urge you to pray, despite the growing dread in the pit of his stomach at the sight of the bruises that linger on your skin. not to mention the puncture wounds right by the side of your neck!
includes: vampire!leeknow x inexperienced fem!reader, stalking, religious themes, marking, +more!
☆CHANGBIN☆
not all monsters do monstrous things - changbin's been acting different lately, and you're hesitant to talk to him about it. after the accident that left him bloodied and bruised, the last thing you want to do is bring up how he's become so distant lately, passing up on opportunities to hang out, refusing your physical affection, ditching you for the new group of friends that seemed to appear out of thin air. but when he stands you up on your birthday dinner on Halloween, you know he's crossed the line!
includes: werewolf!changbin x fem!reader, childhood best friends trope, depictions of gore and violence, size kink, manhandling, strength kink, + more!
☆HYUNJIN☆
its amazing, the love inside, you take it with you - finally, a space of your own! a safe space for you to practice your spells without accidentally setting your mom's heirlooms on fire. a safe space for you to brew your potions without your mom complaining about the smell and how you're doing it wrong (you've figured). a safe space for you to chat with your cat companion, milo, without your mother rolling her eyes. a safe space... with an awkward, clumsy, GOSSIP of a soul with unfinished business!
you could be happy here, i could take care of you. i wouldn't let anybody hurt you. we could grow up together! - han thinks hes seeing things. he usually enjoys camping by himself, but when a bright light and a high pitched noise makes his head throb and his nose bleed, he genuinely thinks he could die. now he REALLY thinks hes seeing things because.. is that someone falling from the sky? after deciding to sleep on it, he meets you. and uh, oh yea. he's definitely seeing things!
includes: loser nerd!han x alien fem!reader, subby hanji, han jisung is a SIMP LOSER, bondage, use of some kind of aphrodisiac, choking, +more!
☆FELIX☆
absence makes the heart grow fonder…or forgetful - never being one to believe in fairytales, you were the only one in your village brave enough to explore the thick woods across the train tracks just south of your home. finally, a place where you can think in silence, with no one to disrupt your writing. when the creatures of the forest begin to make themselves known to you, you ignore all the signs telling you to run. especially when the so-called evil trickster fairy is the most beautiful boy you've seen in your life!
includes: faery!felix x fem!reader, kinda inexperienced felix, lowkey corruption kink (litrally if u squint), felix has wings (that r sensitive), overstim, +more!
☆SEUNGMIN☆
this is true love- do you think this happens everyday? - seungmin is too young for this, he thinks. the youngest prince to take the crown in centuries, and the war between his kingdom and the kingdom of the forest is intensifying. his people are going missing, and he has no idea what to do. it does not help that the king of the forest scares him shitless. he turns to you for help, the last witch of your line- you can thank his family for that!
includes: prince!seungmin x witch fem!reader, kinda enemies to lovers (the trope belongs to him i fear), hatefucking, biting, bondage, +more!
☆JEONGIN☆
we all go a little mad sometimes. haven't you? - you really should have filled up your gas tank. your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, and the storm outside only further dampens your spirits. its dark and empty for miles, besides the little light that flickers on the side of the road. you brave the journey on foot, shivering, and soaking wet. your heart drops when you see the shelter, old and run down. thank god the young gentleman inside is kind enough to offer you a bed for the night!
includes: serial killer!jeongin x fem!reader, primal play, fear play, choking, knife play, jeongin is really rouch, +more!
☆INTERLUDES☆
got a horror concept for a fic? dont be shy and request! (submissions open until september 20)
wanna get tagged? (specify the kinktober special!)
Summary: Your family’s yearly vacation is here and once again, you’re single. To avoid having your dating life be poked and prodded by your relatives, you decide to turn your best friend for a little help. Everyone already knows him! What’s the worst that could happen if he pretends to be your boyfriend for the week?
—————————————————————————
“It’s going to be a disaster,” you lament, leaning your head back over your couch. Your coffee mug gripped tightly in your hand.
A random movie is playing on your TV, but neither you nor your best friend are paying attention.
“It will not,” Chan chides and nudges your arm with his elbow.
He sips his own drink slowly, watching you throw your arm over your eyes.
“Yes it will! Every year my family goes on this vacation to the mountains, and every year I’m reminded that I’m the only single adult in the family.”
You sigh.
“You’re not the only single one, what about your cousin?”
“He started dating someone about a month after last year’s vacation. They’re still together, so she’s coming on the trip.” Your tone switches to something less dramatic. “She’s lovely, by the way, you’d like her. Very friendly.”
Chan laughs. “So, you’re single and alone there, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s your family. ”
“They make fun of me the whole time! And if I do anything my mom doesn’t like, she’ll go ‘this is why you don’t have a boyfriend, Y/N.’ Ugh!”
“Aren’t there only four ‘older’ cousins?”
“Yes, and I’m the only single one above the age of seventeen. I’m twenty four and I am going to die alone.”
Your arm drops from your eyes and you stare up at the ceiling.
The air in your apartment is warm and comfortable. Candles burn on the table beside you, filling the house with a pleasant warm cinnamon scent.
It was always one of Chan’s favorites.
“How long until the trip?” he asks.
“Next weekend.”
“Not enough time for a dating app, huh?”
You force a laugh. “No. Can you imagine? ‘Coffee was great! You wanna come on a week-long vacation with me and my giant, loud family?’ They would run for the hills.”
“Your family is great and you know it.”
“I know, they’re just… obnoxiously close, that’s all. I love them, don’t get me wrong.” You motion your arms up to the ceiling wildly in an exasperated movement. “But if I need to listen to my aunt nitpick my appearance in passive aggressive ways to ‘help’, I might kill myself.”
Chan takes a long sip of his drink. “They’re not that bad.”
You roll your eyes. “They love you so much, what would you know? Every time I bring you around them I always get tons of questions afterwards about you. I think my cousin is in love with you.”
“Which one?”
“Lily.”
“She’s twelve.”
“Twelve and in love with you.”
Both of you sit in silence for a moment. Chan’s attention slides back to the TV. He’s looking at it, but he’s not absorbing what’s really playing.
Same with you, you’re too busy wrapped up in your thoughts when an idea hits you all of a sudden.
“That’s it!” you yell, sitting up straight. Your voice startles Chan and he almost spills his drink all over your couch.
“What? What’s it?” he asks quickly, checking his pants to make sure nothing spilled.
“You can come with me!”
“You want me to go on your family’s yearly vacation in place of a boyfriend?”
“I want you to come on my family’s yearly vacation as my boyfriend.”
Chan’s head snaps over to you, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. You’re already looking at him with pleading eyes.
“Please, Chan!” you beg before he has a chance to say no. “Please, please, please!” you repeat over and over again.
Placing your coffee on the table, you crawl closer to him on the couch, begging over and over again.
“They already love you so much! It would be so easy ! Plus, it’s all expenses paid! It’s a free vacation to a lake house in the mountains with your best friend!”
“Felix isn’t going.” Chan teases.
You whine and grab his free hand. “No, me! Your best friend! Pretty please Chan! I’ll owe you big time!”
He stares at you for a long moment, thinking it through in his head. You’re staring at him with big, pleading, sparkly eyes. He’s never been able to say no to that look.
He sucks his teeth, head cocking to the side for a second. The hand in yours twitches and he holds it, like a faux-shake.
“Fine,” he says. “But, you owe me dinner.”
Squealing, you throw your arms around his shoulders.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He wraps his beverage-free hand around you and hugs you back. “You’re seriously the best, thank you!”
“I know, I know. Now can we please finish the movie?”
——————————————
The trunk to your car slams shut, Chan dusts his hands off and then rests them on his hips.
“You look like a dad,” you tell him while coming up to the car with your backpack slung over your shoulder.
“A dad who packed the trunk of your car perfectly.” He eyes the backpack on your shoulder. “That goes in the backseat. I’m not opening the trunk again.”
Giggling, you open the backdoor and toss it in.
“Can you drive?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. “You know how much I hate driving.”
Chan sighs and holds his hand out for the keys.
“You’re the best!” you cheer and toss them to him.
“Yeah, you keep saying that.” Chan rolls his eyes and ducks into the driver’s side of the car. “Do you have the address?”
You duck inside the car and start typing on your phone. “I should have it in my texts, one sec.”
Scrolling through your phone, you try to find the text that your aunt sent you with the address. Your family has rented the same AirBnb every year since you were fourteen and yet you could never remember the address of the place.
As you’re searching for it, a phone call from your mom comes in.
“Oh, hold on.” You say to Chan and hit the answer button.
“Hey, ma!” you greet into the phone.
“Hey, sweetie! Are you on your way yet?”
“We just got into the car, actually. We’re about to leave.”
“I thought you would’ve left an hour ago.”
“Chan got held up at work, actually. Not his fault.”
At the mention of his name, Chan perks up and looks over at you, listening to the phone call intently.
“Ah, gotcha. I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you two finally started dating.”
“Yeah, well, it’s still kinda new,” you lie through your teeth. You look up and make eye contact with Chan. “We only became official about…”
His eyes widen and he looks around panicked. Quickly, he holds up three fingers.
“About three week-”
He moves about wildly.
“Months! Three months ago! Sorry, I’m a little distracted putting all the bags in the car.”
Chan reacts to your lie comically, his chin jutting forward, head cocking to the side. You wave him off silently. Your mother doesn’t seem to clock your panic about the situation.
“I always saw how the two of you looked at each other, it was only a matter of time, really.”
A blush crawls up your neck and turns your ears and cheeks red. Chan looks down at his lap and coughs nervously, a blush of his own making its way onto his skin.
“Anyway, we better get going, mom! You know how talking on the phone while driving is illegal and all.”
“Make Chan drive! He’s the boyfriend.”
“You’re so right… And he should do so without putting up a fuss.”
Chan motions down to himself, as if to say ‘I’m already the one in the driver’s seat’. You wave him off again, trying to focus on your mother’s voice.
“Okay, okay, I’ll see you soon, but I expect some questions to be answered when I see you, Y/N!” Her voice is teasing, but it makes your blood run cold.
“Of course, mom. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Bye, love you!”
You don’t give her a chance to answer you before you hang up.
The silence in the car is so loud, the air is so still.
“So,” you say slowly. “We need to come up with a backstory, huh?”
“It seems so.”
Another bout of silence.
Neither of you are looking at each other, you’re both facing forward, staring out the windshield.
“I’ll uh… find the address.”
“Yeah.”
You clear your throat awkwardly and scroll through your phone. Chan waits a second before starting the car.
——————————————
Chan turned one of the final corners of the trip onto the street.
“Our first date?” he asks.
“Coffee at the cafe by my apartment.”
“Second date?”
“Movies, we saw Barbie. We went out to eat afterwards. A diner.”
“When did we become official?”
“Three months ago. May 6th. You asked me after our third date.”
“And?”
“You kissed me at my door.”
“Good.”
You both pause for a moment.
“How come I can’t be the one that kissed you?” you tease him.
Chan laughs out loud and turns the car into the driveway. “As if you would ever make the first move.”
You look at him incredulously. “I so would! You’re the one who gets too nervous to do anything. I say I kissed you, not the other way around.”
“No way, I kissed you.”
Chan puts the car into park.
“Absolutely not. I kissed you first.” you reply.
“Keep dreaming. I walked you to your door, we stood there and talked for a minute. You went to walk inside, but I stopped you and kissed you.”
You unbuckle your seatbelt.
“No, after we talked, there was an awkward silence and I could see how nervous you were and how you kept looking at my lips. So, I took the first step and kissed you.”
Grabbing the door handle, you wrench it open before Chan could issue a rebuttal again.
He calls your name from inside the car and lets out a loud groan afterwards.
“You can’t have all the firsts, now can you?” you call back, walking around to the trunk.
The front door to the house rips open and two of your little cousins come tearing out of the house with happy smiles.
“Y/N! Y/N!” they both call out, sprinting up to you.
Leaning down, you scoop both of them up into a hug with both arms, giving them an equally excited hello. Both of them hug you tightly.
They’re five and nine years old, girl and boy– the youngest of the cousins.
“Look who else I brought with me,” you giggle and look over at Chan, who was watching you from the side of the car. The door still opened, his arm leaning on the top.
Both of their tiny gazes turn towards him and just like that, you’re forgotten about.
“Chan!” They both cheer and run at him full tilt.
He wraps both of them up in his strong arms and picks them off the ground.
“Hello, you two!” he coos and gives them both kisses on their heads.
Something twinges within your heart seeing him interact with the two of them that way, it goes through you like an arrow. His brown eyes are so warm and sparkly holding your two little cousins close to him.
A genuine, bright smile pulled across his beautiful face.
Chan steps away from the car and puts them on the ground, they both complain. “Come on, I need to help Y/N with the bags. I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend if I made her carry them all by herself.”
Your heart thuds again. Boyfriend.
The two kids groan and give in, running back into the house, telling everyone of your arrival.
Chan watches them for a moment before turning to look at you with a sheepish smile. You smile back and knock twice on the hood of your car.
“Come on then, boyfriend. These bags won't carry themselves.”
He laughs and grabs the bags from the trunk, arguing with you when you try to lift some of the heavier bags. Well, you weren’t going to argue about carrying something if you didn’t need to.
The cold air conditioned house was a familiar sight when you walked through the front door. One of your aunts was near the entrance when you first came in.
“Y/N, Chan, you’re here! We have you both in the room down here, I hope that’s okay.” she says, pointing to the room down the hall. It’s one of only three bedrooms on the first floor.
“Yeah! That’s totally fine, thank you.”
You smile and walk to the room, dropping your bags down on the bed.
The singular bed in the room.
Chan follows you inside the room with your bags, plopping them down on the floor by the door. You turn to look at him, he’s staring at the bed, most likely thinking the same thing that you are.
He closes the door behind you both.
“I didn’t think about this part.” you say quietly just in case someone was outside the door.
He shrugs. “Just don’t hog the blankets,” he jokes. Chan brushes it off so easily.
What you don’t know is his heart is racing just as much as yours is. His mouth has gone completely dry and he had to gulp down some nerves before jesting with you.
It’s just a bed, right? Both of you can share a bed, no problem. Not at all.
The two of you have fallen asleep on the couch together before. But, it’s not quite the same as sharing a bedroom for the next week.
“I didn’t think you would need any blankets since you’re a human space heater.” You open your one bag and pull out a few smaller things.
“You’re just jealous because you’re cold all the time.” Chan stands on the other side of the bed, plugging his phone charger into the wall.
“I’m not cold all the time.”
“You’re in a sweatshirt and it’s eighty five degrees outside.”
“We had the air conditioning on in the car.”
There’s a few knocks on the bedroom door. “Dinner!”
——————————————
Contrary to what you both originally thought, your family did not grill the two of you interrogation style about your relationship. Instead, you were met with a lot of “It was only a matter of time”.
Each time one of your family members said something along those lines, both you and Chan would grow extremely shy, faces flushing and hearts racing.
Dinner was held in the back room attached to the large kitchen, a long dining table sat in the room, benches full of your family members lined it.
There were so many of you: eight cousins, three aunts, two uncles, two parents, one sister, one brother in law, one grandmother.
This was not the first time Chan had been around your extremely large family, not at all. He’s around you all the time, especially when he can’t go home to Australia for holidays. You always invite him to your family celebrations, and each time he’s more than thrilled to be there.
Everyone was so happy that he was there; part of you thinks they’re happier to see him than you.
Dinner came and went, it was filled with laughter and stories, like it usually is. Your dad and his brothers all teased one another, bringing up stories of being young in the 70’s and 80’s.
“Let’s do a movie night!” One of your younger cousins turns to her older brother. “You’ve been promising me that we would watch Star Wars.”
“You want to watch Star Wars tonight?” he replies.
“Yes, please! Cousins movie night!" She cheers and grabs her plate. “We can set the couches up like last year!”
Chan leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Movie night?”
“There’s a den upstairs with a couple couches, we push them together to make a giant bed and all watch movies at night. Very common L/N Family Activity on vacation.” you answer, leaning closer to him. “The adults usually go to bed and all the cousins watch movies.”
“Sounds exciting.”
Both of you chuckle and smile at one another. His dimples showing. You two seem to be in your own little bubble.
Chan’s leaning so close his body heat is radiating through your clothes. The fabric of his shirt is brushing against your bare arm.
“You’ll find that there’s a certain schedule to each day, breakfast, play down at the lake, lunch, back to the lake, get ready for dinner, eat dinner, movie time.”
“I think I can get used to that.”
“You better.”
A throat clears by you. Your aunt is looking at the two of you with a playful smile. “Are you both going to help clean up or what?”
——————————————
“Dibs on sitting next to Y/N!” One of your little cousins calls out after you all finished pushing the couches together.
“No, I want to sit next to her!” Another yells out.
The youngest runs up and throws his arms around your hips, hugging you close to him. Both arms don’t make it around you all the way.
“No, me!”
You laugh and ruffle his hair. He holds you tighter and it knocks you off balance slightly.
“Come on, hon, you got to sit next to me at dinner, let someone else have a turn.” you coo down to him.
“No!” he pouts and hugs you tighter. You grimace and try to pry his arms off you.
Chan comes out of nowhere and picks your cousin off the ground in one fell swoop. “How about me, huh?” he teases and tickles your cousin with his one free hand.
Your cousin starts giggling like crazy.
“Don’t I get to sit next to my girlfriend?” he jokes and tickles him even more.
The biggest smile stretches over your face, heart warming once more.
Chan drops your cousin onto the couches, he bounces a bit, still laughing.
The tickle torture continues now that both of Chan’s hands are free. Giggles turn into cackles.
No matter how hard you try, you can’t fight the smile on your face and the feeling that stirs in your stomach. Are you ovulating? You have to be. There’s no other explanation for the flutter within your chest.
He just looks so natural like that. The teasing looked adorable.
It wasn’t until one of your older cousins came into the room before your gaze was taken away from Chan.
“Lovesick, eh?” he says in your ear.
“Oh, shut up.” You hit him in the arm.
“I know that look anywhere, Y/N. You can’t fool me.” He laughs and then walks to take his spot on the big couch huddle with his girlfriend.
Chan picks your little cousin up by the ankle and starts dragging him around. Both of their laughter was music to your ears.
“Okay, okay! Move time!” You call out to the two of them. Chan looks over at you immediately with the goofiest grin on his face.
Your little cousin groans.
“Give me my boyfriend back,” you tease and climb onto the couch.
After several minutes of figuring out seating and finding the movie on the TV, everyone was finally settled.
Chan sat directly next to you, his arm on the back of the couch behind you. Both of your legs stretched out in front of you and a shared blanket draped over you both.
The opening title sequence of Star Wars starts playing and silence falls over your cousins for the first time since you got there.
Absent-mindedly, Chan’s fingers lightly brush over the skin of your exposed shoulder from behind you. They trace small shapes lightly.
You can’t even focus on the movie in front of you, Chan’s touch is too distracting.
Your sister and her fiance sat on the other side of you. She leaned over and whispered in your ear about twenty minutes into the movie.
“You can cuddle with your boyfriend, you know.”
A flush crawls up your neck. “Yeah, of course I know that. I just didn’t want to–”
Chan must’ve heard her, his hand closes over your shoulder and brings you closer to him. Your body turns into his, head tucked underneath his chin. His body warmth seeps into you as soon as you press into him.
The cherry on top is when he presses a kiss to the crown of your hair before resting his chin on top of your head. A shockwave of goosebumps ripples through your body.
Thinking you were chilly, Chan wraps his other arm around you and holds you even closer.
Well, if he’s playing the part.
You intertwine your legs with his underneath the blanket. His heart jumps in his chest and he has to fight the urge to press another kiss into your hair.
Chan knew he was pushing his luck with the first one, but it just felt so natural, he couldn’t help himself. Every single time the two of you touch, he instinctually takes it further into a romantic zone.
Previously, he would restrain himself from advancing these moments with you, but now? He doesn’t need to hold himself back. He can let his body react naturally.
The movie continues on, whenever a younger cousin would ask any questions about the movie, one of the older kids would answer.
Whenever Chan was the one to answer, his voice would rumble deep within his chest. The later it got, the raspier it sounded.
Throughout the movie, you both just got more and more tangled up underneath the blanket. You slid an arm around to rest your hand on Chan’s chest; fingers mindlessly playing with the fabric of his t-shirt.
Chan melted into your touch so easily.
In all the years you’ve been close friends, you’ve never been this level of a human pretzel while hanging out. He’s relishing every moment of it. Your shared body heat mingling is intoxicating to him.
He’s such a tactile person, physical touch is definitely his love language.
Chan can’t remember a time he was ever this cozy while watching a movie.
One of his hands moves from your shoulder and into your hair, running his fingers through the strands gently.
Every muscle in your body relaxes when he starts scratching at your scalp lightly. His soft exhales puff out on your head. Normally, this would bother you, but instead you find it soothing.
Both of you were fighting against your eyelids towards the end of the movie. The little kids fell asleep about ten minutes before the credits rolled.
Chan squeezes you tighter for a moment before whispering into your hair, “Time for bed.”
Your heart squeezes. “I gotta help get the little ones to bed.”
“I got it,” he answers. “Go wash up and get to bed. I’ll be downstairs in a few.”
Words can’t even describe how much your heart melts at his words.
Pull it together, Y/N. He’s your fake boyfriend for the week, remember? Not your real one.
It’s Chan – Bang Chan. The same guy who held your hair each time you drank yourself sick in college. The guy who camps out at your dining room table to work because he claims the Wi-Fi is better at your apartment.
Nevertheless, you peel yourself off of him, untangling your limbs and sitting up.
“You’re the best,” you say to him with a sleepy smile.
“I know.”
——————————————
Sunlight streams in through the bedroom window and the air conditioning unit continuously hums in the room.
A strong arm squeezing tighter around your body is what drags you out of dreamland.
A searingly hot body is pressed flush against the back of yours; legs tangled up, back to chest, soft exhales blowing into your hair lightly.
The haze of sleep still has your mind in its grip. All you know in that moment is that it’s so cozy, so warm, so nice that you can’t help but press your body backwards into that serene clasp.
The arm tightens again and brings you even closer.
A nose nuzzles further into the back of your head.
Chan, it’s Chan behind you.
You should care. You should be prying his arm off your waist and scooting over away from him.
But you don’t want to. It’s too nice.
It’s so peaceful, you’re about to drift back to sleep when the sound of two separate footsteps run towards your bedroom door.
They’re so loud, it rips you from sleep and you tense up, preparing for impact.
Your bedroom door is practically flung open.
Chan jolts against your body at the noise, his eyes snap open, arm tightening around you even more in a protective manner.
He has about two seconds to get his bearings before both cousins leap onto the bed, yelling at you both to wake up.
Chan releases you and turns over onto his back with a deep groan.
You groan and squint your eyes closed, bringing the covers up over your head.
“Noooo…” you moan out.
Chan laughs and grabs one little cousin closely, hugging her close to his chest. “Are you in here to sleep in bed with us? I sure hope so since it’s still soooo early.”
She giggles and tries to fight against his strong arms. “No!” she cackles. “You have to eat breakfast so we can go swimming down at the lake!”
Your other, more calm, cousin squirms underneath the covers and cuddles up to you. Slinging an arm around him, you keep your eyes closed and try to let your mind drift off again.
This is not the first time he’s done this, and it most likely will not be the last. It breaks your heart thinking about the year he feels like he’s too old to do this.
Chan is practically wrestling with your cousin next to you. She squeals when he turns on his side with her encased in his arms.
“Chaaan!” she giggles.
After a few moments, he lets her go and she clambers off the bed.
“Come on, Chan! Come sit next to me at breakfast!” She pulls on his hand closest to the edge of the bed.
He laughs and turns his head to look at you. You’re fast asleep again with your younger cousin asleep in your arms.
Chan’s heart slams against his ribcage and his stomach does a cartwheel.
Your sleeping face is so peaceful, and the way your little cousin has the same hair color as you had the cogs in his mind turning.
What if that was your kid in your arms, not just a cousin?
What if it was his?
His eyes flicker all over your face.
Something stirs in his mind, shooting down his spine. If it wasn’t for your other little cousin yanking on his arm over and over again, probably would’ve watched you for a few more moments, allowing his mind to roam into dangerous territory.
——————————————
“You’re staring.” Your aunt sits next to Chan with a plate full of food.
He’s camped out on the back porch of the cabin. It overlooks the wooden stairs that lead down to the dock hanging over the lake.
You’re lounging out on a floaty, pina colada in your hand– courtesy of him. He had walked it down to you only a few moments ago.
When it was announced that it was lunch time, you told Chan you wanted to work on your tan without worrying about your cousins splashing you every five seconds.
Maybe making you a frozen drink was just an excuse to see your face light up when he brought it to you. Maybe it was an excuse to watch the water droplets slide over your body up close.
Chan clears his throat and tears his eyes off your lazing form. Clearly, he’d been caught staring at your bikini clad form.
She nudges his arm playfully. “Don’t be embarrassed, it would be weirder if you didn’t stare, you know.”
Your family can be so crass sometimes.
Chan laughs and takes a bite of the sandwich on his plate. “It’s just nice to see her relaxing for once.”
“Has she been working herself into the ground again?”
“She never stops.”
Your aunt nods and looks back down at you before taking a bite of her own food. “Also helps that she looks good in that bathing suit.” She pauses. “Damn, your kids will be good looking.”
Chan chokes on his bite of food, his body jerks forward and he slams his fist into his chest to try and get it down.
Your aunt pats him on the back a few times, laughing at his expense.
“What?” She questions with an evil chuckle. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”
“We’ve only been together for three months,” he wheezes out, still hitting his chest. The clump of food is sitting in his throat.
“And?”
“It’s too early to think about stuff like that,” he lies through his teeth.
You’re not even his. You’re not. This week will end and you’ll have to go back to just being best friends.
He’ll have to pretend that he wasn’t fake sleeping for the last hour before you woke up just to have his arms around you for a little while longer.
“Please.” Your aunt rolls her eyes and goes back to her food when another family member joins the table.
Chan takes a long swig of water before letting his eyes flicker to you once more. Your free hand hangs down in the water, head tilted back to dip into the cool lake, exposing your long, beautiful neck.
In his swim trunks, his cock twitches and he takes an even bigger drink of water.
——————————————
The torture continues endlessly for the two of you.
It’s the fourth night when it’s just you and Chan left awake.
Rain is pouring against the windows outside, the fireplace is lit, TV playing something in the background.
“I’m never going to get to bed.”
“I told you that you shouldn’t have had coffee with dessert,” you tease Chan, nudging his arm.
“Your uncle offered me a cup and I panicked.”
“You don’t even like coffee.”
“I know!” He whined.
You laugh at his expense. “Come on,” you tug on his arm. “You promised you would play pool with me.”
“When did I say that?”
“Literally this morning!”
“Fine, fine.”
He allows you to pull him off the couch with a dorky smile on his face. He loves giving you a hard time for no reason at all.
The pool table sat in the front room, just a few steps away from your bedroom.
Every time the two of you had gone to play pool, other family members would get in the way and pull one of you two in another direction.
Tonight was really the first night you both had to yourselves.
“You break,” you tell him once everything is set up. He nods and lines up his shot. After a second, he hits the cue ball perfectly into the cluster and all the balls scatter along the table, but nothing sinks into the pocket.
“Pity,” you tease him.
“Pity,” he repeats, mocking your tone.
Laughing, you bend over and line up your own shot. From across the table, Chan watches your form bend over, his lip pulling between his teeth mindlessly.
You hit the ball and sink one in.
With a cheer on the quieter side, you look at him with a smirk. He rolls his eyes playfully as you line up another shot.
The game continues just like this for a bit. Both of you going back and forth, missing most shots, but also nailing some good ones.
You’re tied at the end, racing to try and sink the 8-ball before the other person.
Leaning over the table right in front of him, you try and set up your aim.
“Wait,” Chan says quietly before you can pull the pool stick back to take your shot.
He leans down over you, pressing his back into yours, arms coming around you. He guides your aim to hit the cue ball differently.
The entire time, your heart rate is increasing exponentially.
“Just a bit more to the left,” he whispers in your ear. Chills rip down your body and you gulp. His voice sounds so low and sensual.
His hand over yours adjusts with tiny, miniscule movements. He keeps changing the aim a bit to the left, then a bit to the right, like he’s prolonging the contact.
Behind you, his hips are pressed into yours. It’s taking every ounce of willpower and control for him not to get hard in his sweats.
Especially, since in this position, he potentially could–
“Pull back,” he rasps. You follow his instructions immediately. He helps guide the pool stick back, hesitating for a moment. His chest inflates with a deep breath.
He breathes in the smell of your shampoo.
“Shoot,” he exhales.
With his guidance, you both shoot the ball, standing up quickly to watch it bounce off the 8-ball and then sinking into the corner pocket.
You cheer and jump up, turning around to face him directly.
“Take that!”
When you turned to face him, he hadn’t backed away yet. You’re practically nose to nose with Chan. A gasp catches in your throat from his proximity.
And yet, he still doesn’t back away. He continues to stare at you, his eyes dart from yours, down to your lips, then back up to your eyes again.
“Y/N,” he breathes out.
You swallow nervously and hold his eye contact.
Chan’s jaw clenches once, his hands ball into fists at his sides. Every single ounce of constraint is being tested within his body right now.
Cracks are going up the dam of his self control.
You’re not moving away; why aren’t you moving away from him?
He watches your eyes flicker down to his lips once and that’s all it takes for his mind to snap.
Chan lunges forward, grabbing your face with both of his hands and smashing your lips together. You let out a surprised noise against his mouth, your pool stick clattering to the ground.
Every bit of pent up aggression from the last few days is poured into the first kiss.
His hands aren’t on your face for long. He can’t keep still, sliding them all over your body; into your hair, down your sides, grabbing your hips, he’s everywhere.
“Fuck,” he growls against your lips. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. Shit.”
Even though he’s apologizing, he can’t stop himself. He can’t stop slotting his lips over yours, devouring your very being.
Chan’s eyebrows are pinched together painfully. He’s pinning your body against the pool table with his hips.
You grab at his shirt and pull him closer.
“Shut up,” you say in between heated kisses.
“But I–”
“Shut up.” Your tongue runs over his bottom lip and his mind whites out. Every rebuttal fell from his mind, through the floor and into the Earth.
You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his face even closer to yours as he licks into your mouth. With each turn of your heads, your noses brush against one another.
Chan runs his hands down your body and grabs underneath your thighs, picking you up and placing you on the pool table.
Your legs part and he stands in between them, never leaving your lips once.
As he runs his hands up your legs, he squeezes your bare thighs every few inches. It makes your core clench and body tingle.
Your fingers run up through his hair, grabbing tightly and pulling. Chan moans into your mouth and moves his hands to grab at your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.
“Chan,” you whisper on his lips. He responds with a grunt. “Need you.”
God.
His hands fly to your legs again, grabbing you by the knees, he yanks your hips forward. Your clothed core comes into direct contact with his erection.
“I can give you exactly what you need, baby.” he nips your lip with his teeth. “I can take good care of you, yeah?”
Trailing his fingers up, he toys with the waistband of your shorts. At the same time, he moves his kisses down your neck. You tilt your head back to give him more access.
“Wanna take these off, babygirl?” he moans when you roll your hips into his.
“Yes, please.” you hiss in response.
Lifting your hips, he grabs the fabric and slides it down your legs, tossing them onto the floor with the forgotten pool stick.
Kisses trail lower and lower down your neck as he lowers to the ground.
Chan pulls away to kneel onto the ground.
His eyes are heated and strong when they meet yours. A dark scarlet color covers his cheeks and down his neck, disappearing into his sleeveless shirt.
Both of his hands grab at your thighs when he looks down at your glistening cunt. You’re absolutely soaking wet by now.
Since the moment he helped you line up your shot, you felt your panties dampening.
Wasting no time, Chan leans forward and runs his tongue from the bottom of your slit all the way up to the top, swirling around your clit and sucking gently.
Your hand flies up to cover your mouth, the other rests on the table behind you to keep your balance.
He repeats the action again, this time with more fervor and you squint your eyes shut, head tossing back from the pleasure that rips down your spine like a zipper.
Chan’s hands tighten around your thighs, eyes staring up at you and studying each reaction closely.
You taste so fucking good. He can’t get enough of you. His tongue greedily scoops up your juices, licking around your clit to feel you grind into his face.
His cock throbs with each moan, each whine that makes it through your fingers held tightly over your mouth.
After one long suck on your clit, Chan dips his tongue inside you, licking at your walls. Your eyes roll back into your head, the hand over your mouth flies down to grip at his hair.
He can’t help but smirk into your folds.
Every single moan is music to his ears.
Slowly, he inches his fingers over and when he moves his tongue up to your clit, he slides a finger into you, immediately curling it up to hit that spongy spot inside you.
“Jesus fuck–!” you cry out as quiet as you can manage.
It doesn’t slip your mind that you’re quite literally in a house full of relatives who could wake up and come into the front room at any moment and see the two of you.
But the fear just adds an extra layer of arousal to you.
“Does that feel good, babygirl?” Chan mutters into your cunt. “Does it feel good to have my fingers inside you?”
He thrusts his finger in and out slowly, those brown eyes studying you like a predator studies prey.
You bite your lip, eyes closed, and nod your head.
Chan adds a second finger and your head tosses back again. He can feel you clench down hard on his fingers when he licks your clit in long, even strokes.
A thin sheen of sweat covers your body.
“Chan,” you whine.
“Yeah, baby?” he teases, licking up slowly, the pace of his fingers is equally as slow. But, regardless of the pace, he’s still coaxing you towards the edge of an orgasm. It’s building slowly, you can feel it in the pit of your stomach.
“Shit,” you buck your hips into his face when he does one particularly hard thrust.
“Use your words, little girl.” He bites your thigh and then goes back to your folds. You clench around him hard at the name.
How are you supposed to use your words when your voice keeps getting caught in your throat? When every time you think you can open your mouth, a sultry moan tumbles out.
“N-Need you,” you manage to strain out.
A devilish smile pulls at his lips. He begins to thrust faster with his fingers, licking your clit quicker.
“Need me?” He asks in between licks. “You need me?”
Veins are popping in your neck from straining to keep your voice down.
“Yes, fuck!” You hiss out. “ I need you.”
In between his legs, Chan can feel his cock weeping with precum. His mind is so clouded with lust he can barely think straight.
Desperately, he wishes that you didn’t have to keep your voice down. He wants to make you scream.
Faster and faster he thrusts and licks at your soaking cunt, greedily tasting your juices.
Your thighs twitch on either side of his head the closer you get to your orgasm.
“Chan,” you grab his attention by yanking on his hair. He grunts and looks up at you through his lashes, lips still devouring you. “Inside, inside. I need your cock inside me.”
Your words go straight to his dick, he licks at your cunt a few more times before standing to his feet quickly to lock your lips together, fingers still buried inside you.
When you taste your own slick on his tongue, your eyes roll back in your head and you clench around him. Chan smirks into the kiss, curling his fingers up.
He’s relentless. Tongue sliding over yours, moans being eaten up by a greedy mouth while his fingers fuck into you.
With more strength than you thought you had, you pry Chan’s lips off yours by pulling his hair back.
“If you don’t fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I’ll pin you down and ride you until your cock can’t cum anymore.”
An exhale is punched from his chest. His mind whites out. Chan’s mouth drops open and his fingers stutter within you.
Did you really just say that? That sounds like a fucking dream.
“Babygirl,” he growls darkly. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”
Your eyes darken and you pull his hair again. “Fuck me until I can’t walk, Chris.”
Chan rips his fingers out of your cunt, grabs both of your hips and roughly pulls you off the pool table.
He fists a hand in the back of your hair and spins you around, shoving your head down, bending you over completely.
You’re lucky you had half a mind to put your arms out to rest your weight on your elbows.
Using his one foot, he knocks the inside of yours outwards to spread your legs even more.
“Fucking look at that,” he marvels, running his free hand up your ass and kneading a handful. After a second he reels back and brings his hand down with a painful smack.
Your one hand flies to your mouth to cover the squeak that you make.
“Bent over, soaking wet cunt just fucking waiting to take my cock.” His hand tightens in your hair. The other hand rips his sweatpants down to take his cock out. “What a good girl you are.”
Chan can’t remember a time he’s ever been this hard.
Casting a look over your shoulder, you look back at Chan. His eyes are blown out, lip pulled in a sneer as he fists his cock, staring directly at your fluttering walls clench around nothing.
“You wanna fill me up, Channie?”
His eyes snap up to yours with a predator-like stare. His hand stops pumping his own cock, hell, he even stops breathing.
Chan’s jaw clenches, every ounce of self control is being drained. How much more of this can he fucking take before he passes out?
“What?” His voice is so strained and hoarse.
Your eyes narrow and you wiggle your hips tauntingly. “Come on, Chan.”
Chan’s eyes darken. He fists your hair and shoves your face down on the table and slams his cock inside you.
Your mouth stretches open in a silent scream, but you don’t let the noise make it out of your body.
Chan’s eyes roll to the back. You feel so fucking good.
“Holy shit.” He moans out. “Jesus fuck you’re so fighting tight.”
He wastes no time, pulling his cock out to slam back inside you. Your back arches and hips press into his to meet his thrust.
Each sharp wave of pleasure shoots down your legs and into your toes.
Small gasps and whines make their way through your lips.
Chan leans down, yanking your hair back to pick your head up slightly. His face comes down next to yours.
“You like this, yeah?” He whispers harshly. Thrust after thrust slams against your cervix. “You like when it’s rough?”
Closing your eyes tightly, you keep your mouth shut, trying to nod with his hand so tightly wound in the crown of your hair.
“Better be quiet, then. Don’t want someone coming out and seeing you look like a cum hungry, whore.”
Over and over again he fucks into you.
After one harsh thrust, your mouth drops open and before you can moan loudly, Chan’s free hand covers your mouth tightly.
“Feels that good to have my cock inside you, huh? Can’t control that pretty mouth, you’re so fucked out.”
You whine and nod again. Nails digging into the felt of the pool table underneath you.
Hot, white pleasure is coursing through your veins. You’ve never been fucked like this in your life.
Chan leans down more and bites at the side of your neck, lapping at the skin and leaving small marks that will fade by the morning.
“You’re fucking lucky you have to be in a bathing suit in front of your family tomorrow. Otherwise I would leave my fucking mark all over you.” He bites, but doesn’t suck. “Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”
Another whine is stopped by his hand.
“I have a better idea, babygirl.” He bites your earlobe, pace slowing down within you. Instead, he thrusts deeper, you can practically feel him within your gut. “I’m going to do exactly what you said, yeah? Fill you up? Make that pussy sloppy with my fucking load.”
Your hips jerk back into his to try and encourage him to pick up the pace. Chan only tightens his hold in your hair.
“You’re going to take whatever I give you, every last fucking drop. Even after I pull out, I’ll stuff you with my fucking fingers so nothing gets wasted.”
Arching your back, you press into him more.
“You want that, huh?” He growls, biting your ear. His pace picks up gradually, each thrust rougher and faster than the last. “You want my seed inside you?”
You nod pathetically.
“You want me to fuck a baby into you?”
His thrusts start growing erratic.
You never expected him to be this talkative during sex. But he hasn’t shut up once.
Another nod accompanied with a whine comes from you. You’re absolutely drowning in pleasure.
“Gunna carry my kids, got the fucking perfect hips for it, yeah? You’ll look so fucking hot all pregnant with our kids. Fuck.”
He’s so lost and fucked out, he can’t stop his mouth from running, spewing all his fantasies.
Moving his hand from your mouth, he trails it down to grab at your throat.
“Chan!” You moan out, licking your dry lips.
“Can feel you clenching, babygirl. You gonna cum for me? Gunna cream on my cock? Suck up my cum and hold onto it with this tight fucking pussy?”
“Yes yes yes yes.” You pant over and over again. “Kiss me, kiss me, please”
When you turn your head, your lips smash together.
The coil in your gut is seconds from snapping.
You bite Chan’s lip and pull back.
“Fuck me full, daddy.”
Every muscle in his body tensed and his thrusts turn into something animalistic. The hand in your hair is so tight your scalp is screaming.
“Say it again.”
“Fu-huck,” is all you’re able to manage.
“Say it again.” He barks in your ear. You’re not going to be able sit down tomorrow.
“Daddy.”
A bite to your neck.
“Again.”
“Daddy! Fuck me, daddy!”
“Holy shit.” He whines in your ear. Hearing you say that makes him feel fucking insane. His body is acting on its own.
With a few more thrusts both of you are thrown over the edge at the same time. Your cunt clenching around him so tight, Chan can barely breathe.
His cock spurts and sprays within you, painting your walls white.
Every single sensation feels so good you think you leave for body for a few minutes. Your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks.
His entire body is wrapped around yours. Grunts in your ear keep you grounded.
You feel so full.
Chan came inside you so much that it’s leaking out and dripping down the inside of your legs.
He pants heavily into your ear.
Releasing your neck, he lovingly runs his hand down your side, caressing your hip, massaging circles into the bone.
His hand slides around and cups your lower stomach tenderly.
Slowly, he unwinds his hand from your hair, kissing at the roots he’s been relentlessly pulling on. He scratches and rubs at your scalp to ease the ache.
But still, he hasn’t pulled out.
Chan kisses the top of your head and down to your face, kissing the cheek he’s able to reach.
You can’t catch your breath.
“Y/N,” he whispers into your hair.
You hum back to him, eyes still closed in bliss.
“I love you.”
Your heart jumps in your chest, Chan feels you clench around him.
“I love you too.” It falls from your lips so easily, like it’s been sitting there for so long, just waiting to be heard.
Both of your heads turn to kiss one another.
It’s so ungodly sweet for the events that just took place minutes ago.
His lips are so soft and plush, especially from being swollen from your steamy kisses.
Inside you, you can feel his cock twitch. Is he…?
Breathlessly, you pull away from his sweet kiss.
“Are you still hard?” you pant.
Sheepishly, he smiles and ruts into you. A moan catches in your throat.
“Babygirl, I’ve been waiting for so long to fuck you. It’s going to take a few times before I’m ready to call it a night.”
it’s that time again! 🎃🦇🍂👻 i will be doing my own little version of kinktober this year! the fic warnings i have listed are the barebones tags - you’ll get full warnings as i post each fic! :) i hope you’re all as excited as i am; let’s get BATTY!!!!!
༺🕸️༻❀༺🕸️༻ ༺🕸️༻❀༺🕸️༻ ༺🕸️༻❀༺🕸️༻
october 1st
THE HOUSE : introduction
꒷꒦꒷ warnings: none at the moment
october 3rd
THE DRYAD : bang chan
꒷꒦꒷ warnings: dryad!chan, sex in the woods, unprotected sex, more tba…
october 7th
THE STATUE : lee minho
꒷꒦꒷ warnings: garden statue!minho, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, more tba…
october 10th
THE MERMAID : seo changbin
꒷꒦꒷ warnings: mermaid!changbin, lake sex, unprotected sex, more tba…
october 14th
THE ELVEN WARRIOR : hwang hyunjin
꒷꒦꒷ warnings: elf!hyunjin, bathtub sex, unprotected sex, more tba…
october 17th
THE PHANTOM : han jisung
꒷꒦꒷ warnings: ghost!jisung, mirror sex, unprotected sex, more tba…
october 21st
THE SLUMBERING PRINCE : lee felix
꒷꒦꒷ warnings: sleeping beauty!felix, somnophilia, unprotected sex, more tba…
꒷꒦꒷ warnings: dragon!jeongin, temperature play, unprotected sex, more tba…
october 31st
THE SURPRISE : finale
꒷꒦꒷ warnings: none at the moment. i do have an idea that i like for this, but i’m open to suggestions!! if you have any ideas you think would be fun and fit the themes, please send them to my ask box! the asks won’t be posted since it’s a surprise.
member — neighbor!dino x f reader
genre — smut, college au
word count— 6.3k
synopsis — pros of living next door to a frat house: your neighbor is really really hot. cons of living next door to a frat house: probably everything else.
smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, fingering, lots of making out, facial (cum on face), semi public sex (hooking up at a party)
content warnings — slightly introverted!reader, chan is in college but reader isn't: can be interpreted as older!reader but that's up to you tbh, mentions of weed & alcohol (chan & reader are both sober), cameos from cheol & hoshi hehe
notes — thanks again to @onlymingyus for helping me get my brain in order <3 please reblog or send an ask if you enjoyed reading!! it means a lot to me and it helps me continue writing :) i hope you like this fic!
it's still early in the evening when the music starts.
the sound of voices and cars honking outside your house draws your attention away from the latest episode of your favorite new show. you get up and walk over to the window, peeking out through the curtain at the bright headlights beaming at you.
with a sigh you push the curtain closed again, heading into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. if tonight is like any of the other nights, then it'll be a long time before you fall asleep. hopefully the chamomile will help—is what you tell yourself every time. and every time, it doesn't help.
living in the same neighborhood as the frat houses from the nearby state university was certainly a choice, but the rent in the area was the cheapest in town and you didn't have many options left. with the fall semester coming up fast, every other apartment complex and condo in the city was already rented out. after moving in, you'd quickly discovered why the rent was so cheap: not because the house was in bad condition or because the location was inconvenient, but because of the parties. nearly every fucking night.
you might actually be impressed at how these college kids find the energy to party so often, if you weren’t so fed up with them. every friday and saturday night, and even sometimes during the week, at least one house on your block was throwing some kind of wild party.
by now you'd seen it all: drunk girls throwing up on your lawn, shirtless guys doing keg stands in the middle of the cul-de-sac, people making out literally everywhere. and yes, including that one time on halloween when you found two playboy bunnies having sex with spider-man in your backyard. how they got back there was anybody's guess, but from then on you’d started double and triple checking that your back gate was locked every night.
tonight, it seemed that the festivities were being hosted at the house across the street. and the man behind it all? none other than lee chan, president of the fraternity and owner of the house.
you'd only officially met him twice, once on the day you'd moved in and once the day after. his red honda had pulled into his driveway at the same time you were unloading your boxes from the u-haul, and he'd jumped out and offered to help carry your furniture inside.
at the time it had felt like this was finally your meet-cute moment, the friendly and unfairly attractive boy-next-door that sweeps you off your feet with love at first sight. but once the final box had been moved, he'd simply given you a smile and a wave and went back inside his house. no cute bonding, no exchanging phone numbers, no asking to see each other again. he just left.
of course, that had been before you found out about the parties, and the shock you were in for that same night when people had started showing up in droves had nearly led you to call the cops. so the next morning you'd put on a nice outfit and went to knock on his door, and it was then that you found out more about the neighborhood you'd found yourself living in.
with the same polite tone he'd used yesterday, he'd been friendly and apologetic for the noise, promising that he'd make sure everyone stayed on his side of the lawn and that no one disturbed you or your house. he'd explained that it wasn't a quiet neighborhood, no matter the time of year, but repeated that if anything happened he would take full responsibility for it. he said that you were welcome to come over any time, whether you needed something or you just wanted in on the fun.
you'd taken his word for it, sheepishly waving goodbye as you crossed the sidewalk between your houses, though you figured you would probably never set foot inside his house while there was a party going on. and as you’d walked away, you had tried to ignore the feeling of your heart fluttering with the beginnings of a crush on your neighbor.
tonight, however, your heart was doing anything but fluttering. music blasted outside, definitely a lot louder than usual, and the sound of car engines revving was already getting on your nerves.
you dunk your tea bag into the boiling water at the same time a loud banging on your door makes you jump, and you narrowly avoid spilling it all over yourself and the counter.
quietly you rush over to the door, looking out the peephole to see a group of people carrying cases of beer, looking around at your front porch.
before you can figure out how to react, you hear someone yell something distantly and the group turns around in the direction of the sound.
"shit, wrong house," one of the guys says loudly. "sorry, whoever lives here! have a good night!" he calls as they walk away, the others laughing over a joke you can't hear.
with the crisis averted, you head back into the kitchen and pull the tea bag out of your mug, chucking it into the trash with a huff. full responsibility, your ass.
and then… you have an idea.
chan had been so insistent that you could come over if you ever needed anything, so you might as well take advantage of his offer. because tonight you did, in fact, need something. you needed the party to not be so goddamn loud that you can literally feel your living room floor vibrating beneath your feet.
you stick your mug in the microwave to reheat later and quickly change out of your pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. presentable enough that you don’t embarrass yourself, yet comfortable enough that you don’t feel so awkward.
with a deep breath, you pull open your front door, keys tightly in hand as you lock it behind you and start making your way across the street.
you're almost at chan’s front door when a man steps in front of you out of nowhere, stopping you short. "hey, here for the party?" he asks, holding up his hand for a high-five.
"um… kinda," you say, lightly tapping his hand. you figure he must be the bouncer of some sort, from his friendly yet confident no-nonsense attitude and the way his thick biceps strain against the sleeves of his t-shirt. "i'm looking for lee chan, he owns the house?"
"gotcha," he nods. "gotta check your age before i let you in, though."
you pause, his words sinking in as you realize why he's asking. "oh, sorry, i didn't think i'd need my id," you apologize. "but i live next door, my driver's license is just in my wallet, i can go grab—"
"are you over 21?" he interrupts, and you frown at the question.
"uh, yes?"
"cool. head on in, then," he says.
you look at him suspiciously. "you're sure you don't need to see my id? what if i was lying?"
"dino will probably be downstairs, his room is the door at the end of the hallway on the left," he says, pointedly ignoring your questions. "and while you're down there, tell him cheol sent you. ask him to grab another beer for me."
he waves towards the open front door, and hesitantly you make your way inside. you have no idea who the hell dino is, and you can only hope it's just a nickname of some kind and the man you're about to go find isn't some stranger.
the second you set foot inside the doorway, it's like entering a completely different world. the air is stale and humid, clinging to your skin as you push through a crowd of what must be hundreds of people packed like sardines into every corner of the room.
the music gets louder the further inside the house you go, and you have to focus on repeating cheol's instructions in your head so you don’t get lost in the maze of hallways and doors. downstairs, end of the hallway, left.
you soon find out where the music is coming from. unlike the normal house lights on the first floor, downstairs everything is dark except for colorful flashing led lights around the room. a man stands on top of a table between two huge speakers as people crowd around him, jumping and shouting lyrics to the song that’s playing.
there’s so many people that you have to push your way through the crowd, but most of the people around you either don’t notice or are too drunk to care. but finally, you make it to what looks like the hallway that the man outside—what was his name, cheol?—told you about.
you open the first door on your left and find four people sat quietly on the floor passing around a bong, a thick cloud of smoke hanging over the room. all four of them look over at you at the same time, glazed eyes silently asking who the hell are you?.
"sorry, wrong room," you squeak, slamming the door and retreating back into the hallway as you try your best not to step on anyone's feet.
with a deep breath you crack open the door directly beside the one you'd just opened and poke your head inside, and relief washes over you when you see chan inside.
he's sitting on a couch with a couple girls sitting next to him and a guy slumped against his shoulder, eyes closed and brows furrowed.
he looks up when the door opens, and a look of shock spreads over his face when he recognizes you. he calls your name and you step inside tentatively, saying his name in response. "chan?"
"close the door behind you," he says, and you jump to turn around and shut it with a click. he must notice you standing like a deer in headlights, because he motions you closer to him with a friendly smile. "sorry," he explains. "people will think it's an open room if you leave the door open. i don't want anybody in here without a reason to be."
you nod, but your eyes dart over at the girls sitting beside chan. he makes eye contact with them and clears his throat, and without a word they stand up, understanding the message.
he helps the man laying against him sit up, then helps him stand up and hands him off to the others. "don't let hoshi drink anything else tonight except water, okay? keep an eye on him until your driver shows up."
they nod and slip their arms around their friend, helping him stumble out of the room as he grumbles about something incoherent. "thanks, dino," one of them says with a little wave. "see you monday for that bio test."
the girls open and shut the door quickly, suddenly leaving you alone with him in the room.
"hi," you start, not knowing what else to say. it's been such an ordeal just trying to find him that you've almost forgotten why you came searching for him in the first place.
"hi," he repeats with a laugh. "honestly, i never thought i'd see you here. you don't seem like the type. so, what brings you over tonight?"
"you've only met me twice, how would you know what i seem like?" you reply defensively, thought he's spot on. this is not your usual scene at all, and you’re sure that anyone at this party who’s even a smidge sober must be able to tell how out of place you look.
he shrugs, patting the couch seat next to him. "alright, fair point. come sit down."
you carefully take a seat, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the collection of ambiguous stains on the couch cushions.
"oh, before i forget. somebody named cheol told me to tell you he wants a beer?" you say awkwardly, relaying the message.
"bastard," chan mutters, but he's smiling, and you assume the guy you met earlier is a friend of his. "fine, i'll grab him something when i go back outside." pausing, he turns his attention back to you. "but really, why are you here? i don't wanna make any assumptions, but i doubt it's for the free alcohol."
"if i was, you'd have to tell me where to find it," you say with a shrug, and he laughs but stays quiet for you to finish.
you fold your hands together nervously. "anyway, i just came over to ask—could you maybe turn the music down, like, just a tiny bit? and also… can you tell people to stop having sex in my yard?"
he winces and gives an apologetic smile. "yeah, of course. sorry about that. i told vernon to keep it down, but you know how he gets when he's…" he stops as if he’s just realized something. "nevermind. i'll go let him know right now. do you wanna come with, or you wanna stay here?"
"no offense, but i'd rather not go back out there," you laugh awkwardly. “it was bad enough just trying to find you in the first place.”
"all good," he replies with that friendly smile of his. "it's not for everyone, that's for sure. just make sure the door stays closed, and you'll be fine in here by yourself. shouldn't take too long."
he opens the door and slips out, slamming it closed behind him. you sit unmoving on the couch, finally glancing at your surroundings.
unlike the first room, the air here is fairly clean, other than the faint smell of alcohol and weed wafting in from under the door. you realize this must be chan's actual bedroom, when you see the posters that cover the walls and the bookshelf full of knick-knacks and textbooks.
you start to wonder who else lives in this house, but soon the door opens again and chan returns, the sound of voices and music flooding in while the door is open but quickly falling quieter once the door is shut again.
"alright, he'll keep it down. i'm sorry about the noise," he apologizes again, but you wave him off, suddenly feeling shy around him. with him still standing and you still sitting, he towers over you in a way that makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter back to life.
"no, it's fine. really, it's not that big of a deal," you rush, trying to ignore the growing feeling in your chest. was he always this hot? for the first time tonight you notice how his blonde hair falls in waves around his face, perfectly framing his soft features.
he shakes his head. "really, i mean it. vernon will make sure it doesn't get out of hand, he’s good at that. i can't exactly give you a quiet evening, but i can give you the best i've got."
you take a deep breath and stand up. you're already way outside of your comfort zone even just coming to this party, but maybe this experience hasn't been all that bad. after all, you got to see chan again, and you got to exchange more than a handful of words with him like you did all the other times you’d met him.
"well… what is the best you've got?" you ask him, and you almost see him raise an eyebrow.
he puts his hands in his back pockets, pausing for a second as he looks at you. "mm, best i've got? probably this room. my room. quietest in the house, and nobody will come in to bother us."
your heart races as you take a small step towards him, standing close to him but still keeping some distance between you.
"so does this mean you're not leaving?" he asks when you don’t say anything, just barely loud enough for you to hear him.
"do you want me to stay?"
he takes a step closer to you. "only if you stay with me."
"do you say that to all the people you bring in here?" your question is joking, but a part of you still worries that he thinks you're just another girl at the party looking for a one night stand. though honestly, you wouldn't even really mind if that's all this was. hell, maybe all the secondhand smoke is getting to your head and clouding your judgement, because hooking up with your neighbor seems like a pretty fantastic idea right now.
"the only time i let people in my room is to let them use my bathroom and to make sure they don't die of alcohol poisoning," he says in a low tone, a little laugh escaping him. "and now, i guess i let my hot neighbor in here, too."
"you think i'm hot?" you ask, taking another small step forward.
he matches your stride, taking one last step towards you so that you're finally standing toe to toe with him. "i'd be an idiot not to."
"but how would you know, if we've only met twice?"
he laughs. "well, you had just moved in. i wasn't gonna hit on you when you hadn't even finished unpacking your furniture yet."
"so you did want to hit on me, then," you say confidently, straightening up a little.
“did i ever say i didn't?” he rests his hands on your hips and gently pulls you towards him, closing the last of the distance between you. his eyes never leave your face, gauging your reaction and looking for any hesitation.
you wrap your arms around him and lean forward, a smile on your lips. "good to know."
he leans in the rest of the way and presses his mouth against yours, and everything else just falls into place. your hands reach up to find his hair, threading your fingers through his blond waves and tugging experimentally, and when he lets out a little noise of pleasure you kiss him harder.
the noise of the party fades into the background as his hands slide down your body to grip your ass, and you can’t help the little moan that escapes as he starts to back you up against the wall. his hands stay put, kneading your ass as you try to keep your legs from giving out already. it’s painfully obvious how bad you want him, but it’s equally obvious how he feels the same way.
“fuck, been dreaming about this since the day you moved in,” chan says, pulling away from you with a shaky breath as your fingers tug at the hem of his t-shirt.
he pulls it off over his head before leaning over to kiss you again, his tongue tracing over your lips. he’s good at this; not like you’re surprised by it or anything, but it still catches you off guard.
he seems to be able to sense the tiny bit of lingering hesitancy, so he breaks apart from you but still keeps his arms firmly around you, loosening his grip just a little. “is this okay?” he asks in a low voice, but you can hear the concern laced in it.
you nod quickly, tugging your shirt off quickly and letting his hands settle at your hips before you pull him back closer. you never do this. maybe you really had inhaled too much secondhand smoke on the way in and you aren’t thinking straight. but deep down, you know that’s not the case.
as much as you hate to admit it, your harmless crush on your neighbor has grown into something much, much more. you can’t say you’ve never been a little jealous when you see girls leaving his house on sunday mornings after parties. you can’t say you’ve never let your eyes linger a few seconds too long when he goes out to check the mail and he’s wearing that tight black tank and thin silver chain he never takes off.
or the fact that he works out in his garage with the door open, and you aren’t really purposefully trying to look but it’s not your fault that your window just happened to be open. and it wasn’t your fault that you just happened to look outside and see him shirtless and bench lifting a very large amount and if you were really really quiet you could almost hear him groaning—
he slides his hands down your bare skin, hesitating again at the waistband of your jeans, but you arch your back a little to push yourself closer and he takes the hint. he easily undoes the button with one hand, and you try not to think about how many times he must’ve practiced that in order to get that skilled at it. but that thought is quickly pushed out of your mind when his hand makes its way into your pants, his fingers experimentally sliding down past your underwear and brushing through your folds.
you let out a groan, rolling your hips into his hand encouragingly. you’re already hot and sweaty, standing with your back against the door in just your bra and jeans, but it’s hard to tell if the heat is from the crowded, stuffy house or from something else.
“god, you’re so wet,” he murmurs under his breath almost incredulously as he presses his fingertip against your clit, circling the swollen bud before dipping back down to collect your arousal on his fingers.
you squeeze your thighs together out of instinct, trapping his hand between your legs, and he looks up at you for confirmation. “more,” you whimper, just loud enough to be heard over the music and the noise on the other side of the door. “chan, please.”
he groans and puts more pressure on your clit, starting to rub a little faster and a little messier. he slides his middle and index fingers inside and you let out an involuntary yelp, clenching and bucking your hips in search of more friction. he starts out slow, curling his fingers in a beckoning motion as his other hand massages the bare skin of your waist.
after more of your pleading he finally concedes, sliding his fingers out and wiping them on his stomach, leaving a glistening trail of wetness on his tan skin. he glances back up at you in questioning, but he finds no hesitation in your expression as his hands start to push your pants down your legs and you kick them away, leaving you bare in front of him.
“you sure you're ready?” he pauses to ask one more time, but your quick nod has him jumping back into action in seconds.
he follows hurriedly, stripping out of his pants and shoving his boxers down to free his cock. his length springs up and slaps against his stomach, the tip looking flushed and heavy, and your mind goes blank, replaced only with the thought of him inside you. he holds himself in one hand, lining his cock up at your entrance as you adjust your position in preparation.
you groan as he finally ushes into you, your fingernails digging into the back of his shoulder blades as you struggle to balance.
“feels good?” he mumbles as he lifts your thigh, wrapping your leg securely around his hip. he doesn't move yet, his hips still as he lets you move however you need.
you barely manage to nod in return, keeping your hands firmly planted on his shoulders, slowly but surely adjusting to his size. “god, yes,” you manage, trying to keep your breathing steady. “if i'd have known you felt this good i would've come over way sooner.”
“mm, well. you're welcome over here any time.” he grins at you. his dark eyes get hazier with desire as he holds you firmly against his pelvis. “for any reason you'd like.”
the best response you can come up with is “sure”, barely listening as you start to roll your hips, but you can tell the sincerity in his statement. your attempt at movement doesn't work very well in this position, but chan quickly takes the hint, pulling back and letting his cock slip halfway out before he drives back into you.
the first thrust has you seeing stars already, and you let out a broken moan as he starts to build up his pace. your back slides against the wall as you feel the bass reverberating through your bones, and it only enhances the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls.
“if there weren’t so many people in this house, i’d have you screaming my name right now,” chan huffs against your lips, pulling your body closer and wrapping his arms around you tighter.
“mm, but the music is so loud they probably wouldn’t be able to hear it anyway,” you bite back with a brazen smile. you're feeling bold, the party atmosphere filling you with a cockiness that you don't usually possess. but something about the environment, the fact that you're fucking the hottest person here while hundreds of people rave obliviously outside the door, is a thrill you've never felt before.
he rolls his head back with a groan, and you feel his thrusts suddenly getting harder and deeper. you have to fight to stay standing, using all your energy to keep yourself upright and leaning most of your weight on him, but if he notices it he doesn't let it show. all those push-ups and bench presses that you ogle him doing in his garage must be good for something, from the way he hoists you against the wall and drives his cock into you without even barely breaking a sweat.
“say it, then,” he goads, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh as he holds your leg up. “you want to, don't you? you wouldn't have come over here tonight if you didn't.”
the worst part is that you know he's right. your own curiosity is what brought you here tonight, masked by the claims of noise complaints. the noise isn't even really that much of a bother: you could've gone to bed, turned on your fan and played some white noise, and you would've been perfectly fine. but some part of you longs to know what goes on at these parties, to see your devastatingly sexy neighbor in this setting you've never witnessed him in yet. so now that your curiosity has been satisfied, you really have nothing to lose.
“chan! fuck— mmph, yes—” you whine loudly, unintentionally clenching around him as the words fall from your lips. there's no way anyone would hear over the music, and even if they did, there's a high chance they wouldn't care either way. it's just what happens at parties.
his eyes light up at the sound, a moan of his own leaving his mouth as he thrusts into you over and over again, burying his cock as deep as he can go with every stroke. a familiar heat burns in the pit of your stomach at his movements, winding tighter and tighter with each passing second. your walls throb around his length, filling every inch of you until you can't take it anymore.
“chan…” you groan again, pulling him towards you with your leg around his waist. “please, keep going… c-close, i'm close—”
he leans in and presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans with his eager mouth. “god, please cum for me,” he says breathlessly, pulling away but leaving just enough room for your lips to stay connected by a thin string of spit. “need to feel it, need to feel you. please, baby, fuck…”
he slams into you even harder, driving his cock right up into the spot that makes your knees nearly buckle. you manage to whimper out his name one last time before your lips go slack against his mouth, your eyes squeezing shut as you crash into your climax. the force of his steady, constant thrusts combined with the force of your orgasm leaves your body tingling, every nerve alight from the waves of pleasure pulsing through you.
his movements don't ever slow, but you can see the emotion twisting in his face in reaction as he watches you cum, squeezing around him so warm and wet and perfect that it takes every ounce of his self control not to immediately follow you over the edge.
his eyes bore into yours, watching your face until he's sure you've recovered enough to handle him. he pulls out and keeps his hand firmly wrapped around the base of his cock, jerking himself with tiny flicks of his wrist to keep the momentum going.
immediately you drop to your knees in front of him, tilting your head back to stare up at him between his thighs, your eyes wordlessly pleading with him as your tongue nearly rolls out of your mouth.
“fuck, you're so…,” he groans, keeping his fist tight around his cock with a few final motions. “you're so fucking hot, god, i'm gonna—”
he whines and his hips buck as he spills across your face, thick white ropes landing on your tongue and your cheeks. your smaller hand reaches up to replace his and you take him into your mouth, gagging only slightly as the salty taste fills your mouth. you wrap your lips around him and swallow, letting your tongue swirl around his sensitive head to collect it all until he's finished.
he pulls back and his cock slips from your mouth, leaving you gasping and licking your lips to catch the stray drops of his cum. his voice is low and strained as he reaches out his hand to help you up, his thick biceps flexing as he pulls you to your feet. despite the blissed-out look on his face you can see the guilt in eyes and it makes you pause, wondering if he didn't enjoy it the same way you just did. but it's only another moment before he speaks again, and your short-lived worries are put to rest.
“i'm sorry it was so fast,” he says almost shyly, pulling you over to sit at the edge of his bed. “i can go again if you aren't done yet. or we can do something else… or i could walk you back home. whatever you want, i'm happy to do.”
you expression softens into a grin, still a little hazy but definitely not finished. “oh, i can go again, for sure. i've got all night if you'll let me.”
his eyes crinkle with an eager smile, and you're already spreading your legs to give him space as he falls down onto the bed between them, landing on top of you. his hand cups your chin ans he pulls you into him, his lips finding yours and melting into you with a satisfied hum. his tongue finds its place once again in your mouth, prodding inside as he kisses you with a level of passion and desperation you haven't felt in a long time.
he groans into the kiss as he tastes himself on your lips, exploring your mouth and the bitter taste he left inside. you feel the vibrations from it in your jaw and down your neck, and it only makes you kiss him harder in an effort to draw out more of those pretty sounds.
"hey, dino, didn't you say you'd bring me a beer? it's so boring standing out there—"
the door opens and you jerk away with a scream, hiding yourself under chan and using the nearest piece of clothing to cover up as someone barges into the room.
"cheol, get the fuck out!" chan shouts, wrapping his arm around you and keeping you pressed tightly against his chest, using his back to shield you from view. "fucking knock next time, dude, you know better!"
"jeez! how should i have known? i thought you said you didn't hook up at parties," cheol mutters as he turns around, slamming the door shut behind him. "i'll get the damn beer myself."
the door slams shut once again, and chan sighs and hangs his head, his forehead leaning against your chest before he reluctantly crawls off of you and crosses the room to lock the door.
“you don’t hook up at parties, huh?”
he turns around to look at you, and you pause to take him in. his hair is messier than it was when you got here, glued to his forehead with sweat and sticking up at odd angles from you tugging on it. his broad chest is tinged red with tiny scratches from your nails, and it makes you want to bite him all over, but you contain yourself for now.
your voice is teasing, but cheol’s words have honestly made you feel a million times lighter. you hadn’t expected to be anything special to chan after tonight; at the very least, you hoped that it wouldn’t be awkward when you see each other, but you’d figured you were just the next in a long line of girls waiting to have their turn with him. for once, you’d never been so happy to be proven wrong.
“i’ll make an exception for the pretty neighbor girl. just this once.”
“oh, so now i'm just pretty. i thought i remembered you saying that i was the hot neighbor girl,” you giggle, watching as he hops on one leg to put his boxers back on.
“two things can be true at once,” he says with a grin as he walks back over to you still lying on his bed. “besides, i still haven't taken you out on a date yet. would be kinda forward of me to call you hot when i haven't even bought you dinner yet.”
you smile at him, trying to fight the warmth burning in your cheeks as you reach up to ruffle your fingers through his soft hair. he lets out a satisfied groan at the feeling, and it gives you an idea.
“do…” you trail off, suddenly unsure, until you see the warmth in chan’s eyes as he lays on top of you and it fills you with confidence again. “do you wanna continue this at my house? i’ve got the quietest room, and nobody will bother us.”
“mm.” he grins at the way you repeat his words from earlier, enamored with your shy yet playful tone. “if we’re at your place, does that mean i get to give you the noise complaint this time?”
“i’ll allow it.” you roll your eyes and pull yourself to sit up. “i need a shower, and i’m sure you would like one, too. plus i have food that hasn't been spilled on the floor or soaked in alcohol.”
he picks your shirt up off the floor and hands it to you with a smile, moving around his room with a quiet confidence you find unbearably hot. “does this mean anything to you, or is this just a tonight thing?” he asks.
you bite at your lip as you shimmy back into your jeans, shaky fingers sliding the button into place as you sit back down on the bed. “it does,” you reply simply. “you did tell me you'd buy me dinner, after all. i'm gonna hold you to that.”
he leans over you, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips. “and i plan on keeping that promise.”
you stumble your way through the house, squeezing chan’s hand tightly as he pulls you up the stairs, following him towards the door. you're not worried about anyone noticing you anymore: everyone's too wrapped up in their own business to care, including you. the party seems dulled now, the music fading and the people around you becoming blank faces. all you care about is chan, your eyes roving over his broad back muscles that peek through his shirt as you trail behind him. you must look no different than every other drunk college kid here with the giddy smile on your face, but you haven't had a drop of alcohol. it's just the effect he had on you.
finally you make it outside, and the cool night air feels sharp compared to the humidity inside the house. already it seems quieter as you start to walk the distance across the street, moving away from the party and towards the comfort of your own home. chan moves up beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist while you lead the way, but you're stopped once again by the same man from earlier.
“hey,” he greets chan, only sparing half a smirk in your direction but otherwise not bothering you, despite the heat that instantly rises in your cheeks at the fact that you were caught. “did you get my beer?”
“no. you said you were getting it yourself.” he rolls his eyes, and cheol whines and gives him a look that you swear almost looks like a pout. “if anyone asks about me, tell them i'm not home. tell them i had to…” he looks over at you with a cocky grin. “…had to go take care of something. noise complaint.”
cheol groans, making a face. “god, whatever. i don't want the details. but just don't make me stand outside next time. i'm doing you a favor here. i'm supposed to be working on my thesis.”
“sure,” chan replies, but he's still stuck staring at you, barely processing his friend's complaints. “yeah. anyway, i'll catch you tomorrow.”
he tugs gently on your waist and you start walking again, leaving cheol without so much as a goodbye or even a proper introduction. you'll deal with that later, you guess. there’s a lot of things you'll have to deal with, but at least the wild parties your neighbor boyfriend throws won't be one of them anymore.
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"I wanted to be unforgettable. Indelible. I wanted to haunt their hearts and minds—to be everywhere and nowhere, spectacular and out of reach. Only in the chaos did it dawn on me. Being remembered is not the same as being missed."
kim mingyu’s (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity
❝ you’re telling me that you, Miss Dick Repellent, had sex with Captain Chastity By Choice over here. ❞
PAIRING ▸ kim mingyu x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, college au, best friends to lovers au, friends with benefits au
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, alcohol consumption, rated m for mingyu, slow burn, he fell first but she fell harder but then he tripped and ate shit, probably the most self-indulgent thing i’ve written, mingyu and mc are both virgins, sexual content, sexual tension, protected and unprotected sex (i would not advise doing the latter), lots of teasing and banter, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, wall sex, couch sex, public sex, mingyu discovers what pasties are, soonyoung orders 20 connect fours, they are avid enjoyers of the barbie movies
SUMMARY ▸ after accidentally telling your friends that kim mingyu took your virginity (he didn’t), you’re shocked when he proposes to relieve you of the fabled v-card for good (he does).
PLAYLIST ▸ perfect by one direction • spell by niki • fatal flaw by ellise • give me a kiss by lolo zouaï • step? by bibi
WORD COUNT ▸ 31,273 words
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ someone (fia) once told me i write too many college aus. i said yeah ur right. and i’m gonna do it again
“BIRDS AND BEES CANNOT PHYSICALLY FUCK.”
You sounded more distressed than informative while you were trying to reason with your longtime best friend, Kim Mingyu. He, on the other hand, appeared visibly worked up over this childish level of argument you two were having.
“It is a metaphor,” he said. “Everyone knows birds and bees aren’t screwing each other up in the trees.”
You still couldn’t wrap your head around it. Hours ago, you had fucked yourself over after Kwon Soonyoung had casually brought up the topic of body counts. After everyone in your friend group went around listing theirs (Soonyoung: 3; Jungwoo: 3; Minghao: 2; Vernon: 5), you accidentally blurted out that your body count actually existed—one, to be exact.
This was a problem because, to everyone’s prior knowledge, you were a virgin.
𝒮ynopsis, in which you had just confessed your love to benedict and he feels the same, he promised you nothing but the best for you two. if so why is he regretting the thought of marriage and love? but everyone knows he regrets saying such things when you overheard.
𝓌ord count, 3.3k
𝒲hen you were young, you dreamed of marrying a prince. a man who looked kind and handsome, a man with a smile filled with pearly white teeth, a charming smile, an adoring feature you hoped your kids would have ━ and you did.
Your parents had been invited to Aubrey Hall, to celebrate a small party for Daphne's birthday. To be frank, you were mesmerized by Benedict Bridgerton.
The boy had a contagious laugh, a stupid slanted smile, and was decent at pallmall. He had tamed brown hair that shone brighter when the sun hit it at the right angle. He was simply the boy who made your heart pitter-patter when he helped you position the ball right.
From then on, he was the boy you expected to see when you visited Aubrey Hall. You will say that your childhood was more vibrant when you were with him, he was a mischievous boy, always wanting to have fun.
Benedict would always drag you along, making him your best friend. It felt different when you grew up to be a beautiful lady, that boy was now a man. A man you couldn't be that careless around anymore, not if you wanted to get married.
Benedict couldn't understand but he found different ways to play around with you. Sending you flirtatious glares around the ballroom, inviting you to dance, and whispering some things in your ears that made you flush red.
Though you loved it, finding a husband with the boy always at your hip made it rather hard. It seemed to change when you were serious about getting married, making the boy utterly lost for words.
"Darling, why are you ignoring me?" Benedict had snuck up behind you with a cup of champagne and whispered the first bit. You turn around surprised at his appearance. "Benedict, not now please." You huffed, looking at the young man who asked for the next dance.
"Why are you mad?" You could hear it in his voice that he was being playful but you couldn't care less. "Benedict." You gave him a look, making him realize you were up for no joke. "Miss Hawthorn, a dance? " The young gentleman had interrupted your gaze with Benedict, making you snap out of it and smile at him.
While the two of you danced, Benedict just watched. He walked around the room, eyes on you. That was until his gaze was interrupted by his mama catching him. “Mother, I did not see you.” Violet could hear it in his voice that he was beginning to be troubled. “Dearest, what is on your mind?” She ripped her eyes away from him to the dance floor.
Oh, she knew. She could see you smile at the Lord who had said something funny while you two danced. “Oh, Benedict..” Violet hugged his arm, making him hum and look down at her. “What is it, mother?” Benedict wanted to know what she was thinking about.
“You know, all of us love her. She’d be a great daughter–in–law.” Violet smiled at her second oldest. Benedict looked at his mother in nothing but bewilderment, was she mad? You were his beloved friend, a friend he wanted to keep close to because, in all sincerity, he would be lost without you.
“Dearest, I see the way you look at her, your father would call you a fool in love if he were to see it.” Violet tapped his arm before leaving him to dwell in his thoughts. A fool in love? Was he in love with you? His heart was demanding it, and who was he to deny it from it?
When the dance had finished, he rushed to your side once again. “A dance, Miss Hawthorn?” Benedict avoided your eyes, making you a bit confused. “Of course, Mister Bridgerton.” You were hesitant to grab his hand but reluctantly you gave in as he led you once again to the dance floor.
Everything felt hot for you, you simply didn’t know why. You had danced with Benedict far too many times, was this time perhaps different? His grip on your waist was a bit tight and his gaze seemed darker. “Benedict, is everything all right?” You whispered just enough for him to hear you.
You were a whole gap away from him but he felt your lips mere inches away. Benedict could only look at your lips as you kept muttering things to get his attention, were your lips always alluring? They had a beautiful shade of pink that blended with a shade of light red.
Was it wrong to see you differently now? He always saw you as his best friend, a girl who was still young and fed his artistic desires. Now he felt off, he wanted to plant his lips on you this very instance. “Why are you mad at me?” He asked.
You just looked at him with bewilderment, had he not gotten the slightest idea why? You sigh and look away, trying to recollect your thoughts, wanting to tell him most adequately. “Benedict, I’m simply trying to seek something.” You say, trying to initiate a thought in him.
“You’ve lost me,” Benedict asked, confused, making you shut your eyes. “I’m seeking a husband Benedict and if I’m always by your side, it makes it hard–it gives people the wrong idea.” You whispered and somehow he heard you clear as day.
The dance continued, and his grip on you became tighter each time, and when the song came to an end, he spoke again. “Let them get the wrong idea.” He said, and suddenly the room felt empty. You looked up at him, his gaze changed, and he looked yearningly. He wanted nothing but to keep you right by his side, he didn’t want to share you. He had you first.
“Please, give me a moment.” You hurriedly walked away, making him instantly keep his eyes on you as you left.
The air felt heavy, too hot, and suffocating. Benedict had just added fuel to the fire you wanted to put out. Benedict? Oh, Benedict. He made it hard to breathe like he steals the very air you need. How would you talk to him after this, he had made it hard to do so.
Then a sudden crunch of the gravel made you look behind, and the very man that took too much space of your heart stood before you. “Benedict? Why are you here?” You asked clenching your fan, you were scared. Scared you were going to lose something tonight.
“I need to speak with you.”He said, looking at you the same moment before. He stepped forward and was just mere inches away from you. He looked down at you deeply, his hand visibly shaking. “Benedict, this doesn’t look right.” You push away, not wanting to cause a scandal.
“I love you.” The three words tasted rather foreign. It caught you off guard, making you stop in your tracks.
“Benedict, you don’t know what you're speaking of.” You denied his words, not believing him. “Please don’t play with my feelings like that.” To be honest, you were quite hurt, was this a joke to him? Was your future a joke to him? “I do know what I’m speaking of, trust me, it is the truth.” Benedict's large hand held yours and you could feel them tremble.
“I’ve been a blind fool for far too long.” His grip didn’t falter once, and suddenly you wanted to listen. Seeing your sudden interest he continued,” I don’t want to lose you to someone else, I want you right by my side–In so many other ways, you’re my best friend, a companion I wish to grow old by.” His blabbering caused him to be deaf to your words, he ignored your eye contact.
He had pushed his forehead to rest on yours, feeling confident once your touch calmed him. Your breath was caught in your lungs and your eyes stung with tears, you smiled weakly listening to him talk, it was the mere words you dreamt of hearing. “So please please, I beg of you to stay by my side as my lover, as my wife.” He finally opened his eyes, and oh, did his heart turn.
You were mesmerizing, the candled venue gave you a hue of color, enough to shine your brimming eyes and rosy cheeks. “Oh, Benedict of course I will.” You laughed lightly before nodding hurriedly. Then he did the unimaginable, he kissed your lips. A kiss that felt soft and sweet, that was when you let your tears finally leave your eyes.
The kisses were short and sweet, he loved it. He kept them like that so he could dive it for seconds. You felt his lips kiss every inch of your face, making you flush red. “Be mine right now. Be mine forever, I’ll give you everything you want, just please be mine.” He said in between the airy kisses. “Benedict, I’ve always been yours, ever since you taught me how to play pallmall.” You laughed.
He laughed along with sincerity in his eyes, before taking you along to break the news to both of your families, who were nothing but happy for you two.
It had been a mere 2 weeks since his confession, and the Bridgerton house was filled with buzzing attention. Violet and Kate were trying to help you look for a wedding dress, and try to help coordinate this wedding. You were grinning ear to ear, you were marrying your prince soon.
Although throughout this whole process, you had barely seen your to–be husband. Benedict just left a longing kiss on your mouth ever since the night he promised you marriage. Anthony just said he was busy preparing everything for your wedding, but it still felt off.
Still, today was your last day in their home since you had to return home to make preparations over there too. You were bidding farewell to the younger ones and Violet, thanking her for letting you stay all this time. She had just smiled and whispered in your ear that you were soon going to be around more often.
Kate had gone to walk by your side as you looked for Benedict, wanting to wish him good night. You smiled at the thought of him telling you good night as well, and as if he heard your wish, he spoke. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know if this wedding is a good idea.” Those exact words wiped the smile off your face, making you stop in your tracks.
“Whatever do you mean brother?” Colin asked surprised, making Anthony demand it too. “It’s just I feel like it is still so sudden, I’m a bit lost, ever since I left the academy,” Benedict explained, making the other two rather confused. “I don’t want to drag her into my troubles.” He stated.
You could feel Kate hold your hand, both of you in shock to step in. “I just feel bad because I’ve ruined her, I shouldn’t have done that.” He spoke out, making your heartbreak. Did that kiss not mean anything? Did those damm words mean nothing? Were his stupid promises filled with nothing but nonsense? It seemed like it.
Suddenly the tension was cut when a butler called out, “Miss Hawthorn, the carriage is ready.” A gasp could be heard. You suddenly walked away, wanting nothing but to get out of there. You choked back a sob as the three busted out of the room.
As you leave the house you can hear Benedict call after you. “Darling, don’t leave.” It seemed his passionate monologue had woken up the other bystanders on the sidewalk, now attracted to a new source of drama.
“Leave me alone, Benedict.” You cried out, wanting nothing but to leave and cry your lungs out. “Please, I’ll marry you someday. You’re utterly perfect for me!” He said wanting nothing but to hold you and tell you it was a huge misunderstanding.
Someday?
Someday when he felt like a man.
You got into the carriage just to drown out his pleas, quickly knocking on the roof of the carriage. Making your coachman hastily leave the Bridgertons alone, and Benedict freaking out.
“Why would you dare utter such words, Benedict?!” Kate had yelled at the man, making him even more guilty of it. “I didn’t mean them in a horrid way!” Benedict tried to defend himself, but his new sister in–law wasn’t having it. “You shouldn’t even speak them!” Kate huffed out visibly getting angry at the stupidity of the Bridgerton men. Anthony walked right beside his wife in an attempt to calm her down, and like the faithful husband he was, he was automatically on her side.
“Kate is right brother, why utter such words?” Anthony asked, making the second oldest sigh in nervousness. Violet walked right in when the argument became still, she was forced to put the youngest siblings down for bed. “Benedict, answer your brother,” Violet spoke calmly, but Benedict could sense it. She was angry, and he didn’t like to see her mad.
Everyone in the room looked at him and it made him want to break down and run to you. “I’m scared.” Benedict finally confessed, making everyone rather still. “She’s too good for me, she deserves so much more! I’m so lost, I don’t hold a title like you brother! I’m a disappointment of an artist, I don’t deserve her.” Benedict yelled, enough to leave everyone speechless.
He pushed his way out and ran to his room, locking himself in, not knowing what to do. Honestly, Benedict regretted everything that vomited out of his mouth. He was a stupid idiot.
Benedict cried that night, it seemed his perfect plan was crumbling, he wanted nothing but you in his arms. As if someone heard his cries, they knocked on his door. “Benedict, please open the door,” Violet whispered, she felt stupid knowing she didn’t see her boy struggling until now.
Violet heard shuffling around the other until a little creek was heard, and there was her little boy. Tears streamed down his cheeks and, his nose and eyes were all red. “Have I done something wrong, mother?” He asked softly. Violet could only cry out. “You have done nothing wrong Benedict.” She pushed him further into his room.
That night Benedict felt like a little boy, his mother running her fingers through his hair. Letting it soothe his mind, they spoke of many things that night. How they would go to your home first thing in the morning to clear this misunderstanding, and how it was okay to be scared.
He had the right to be scared but he had to realise you were probably even more scared. His mother soothed him to bed speaking of how much you loved him, that everyone in this house could tell so.
He slept so soundly, he just wished you were there instead of his mother.
When the time came to depart to your home, Violet rode with him. Giving him nothing but advice on how to approach you. He was a sweating mess, were you truly going to forgive him?
“Mister Bridgerton.” The sturdy voice of your father sent goosebumps down his skin. “Lord Hawthorn.” Benedict tilted his head down to the older man. “Lady Bridgerton!” Your Mama called out right behind your Father, smiling lightly trying to ease the tension.
Your mother ushered your father into a separate room, finally turning over to Benedict and Violet. Benedict saw your mother's gaze, it was the same one she’d give him when he got in trouble. To your mother, he was still the young boy who craved your attention.
“Oh, Benedict.” She hummed, making the boy gaze down like a coward. “She’s in the upstairs drawing room.” She ushered him away, giving him the green light for him to advance. He looked at her surprised, he honestly thought she was going to give him an earful. As he left, she stopped him one more time. “Benedict?” She hummed out, making him look back at her.
She smiled warmly, a type of smile every mother had. “We love you like a son, we know how worthy you are for her.” She sent him away with a new source of confidence, as she and his mama leave for tea.
Benedict grew up in your home, just as you did in his. He remembered everything about this house, when you dragged him around, or when you two snuck out in the middle of the night.
The drawing room held a color of pale pink, with shades that went from light to dark. He’d say it was the color that suited you the best, it clashed with your skin perfectly. His eyes wandered looking for your silhouette. You were sitting with your back turned to him, embroidering something.
He spoke, but the words failed to make noise. Benedict snuck behind you only to catch a glimpse of what you were doing. You were embroidering his initials down to a handkerchief you were going to gift him the day of your wedding.
Then out of so much concentration, a small piece of hair fell out of your bun, so like the boy he was, he placed it behind your ear. Finally snapping out of your trance, you jump to see Benedict. He could only wish he could slap himself after seeing your expression, your eyes were puffy and red, and you looked so tired of crying.
“Benedict?” Your voice was small and quiet, and now did he notice you hid the handkerchief. He fixed his posture slightly, fiddling with his top hat that allowed him to poor out his anxiety. “Can we talk?” His voice mirrored yours, finally able to look into your eyes. You were hesitant but gave in.
Letting him sit right next to you, you could feel his body tense up as he ‘eases’ down on the sofa. The quietness was eating both of you, it made your heart break all over again. “Did you mean those words?” You asked, looking hesitantly at him.
“No! No, I regretted them the moment I spoke them.” He abruptly turned over to you, looking right at you with desire. “I’m scared I am not what you deserve..” The moment when those words spilled out of his mouth, you cried out. “Benedict you fool, you’re everything I want.” You pushed out tears.
“Please let me finish.” He wiped your tears away with his large hands, then slid his fingers to your chin, tilting it up so he could see your eyes. “I’m lost my dear, my art is taking me nowhere.” He uttered, continuing. “I regret violating your innocence, I should’ve married you first.” He wiped your fresh tears again before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Oh Benedict you simpleton.” You spoke out, finally taking his face into your hands. “I’ve loved you since I was of the age of fourteen, loved how you used me for a reference for your paintings, how you called it ‘needing something beautiful to draw’, you had no idea such words made me feel.” Slowly placing kisses on his skin and it growing warm after.
“Loved how you took care of me when I grew sick, how you’d teach me how to paint even though I was horrible at it.” Placing your lips everywhere. “You have no idea how much I want you, Benedict.– Don’t ever say you’re not worthy of me, because I would choose you no matter what.” With that, you simply place a kiss on his lips.
Benedict didn’t know how to explain it but something blossomed in his heart at that very moment. His fingers held the side of your face as if you were a rare pink stargazer lily when he kissed your lips, but dare he say they tasted sweeter the first time he kissed you.
When you two parted, it felt right. “Would you still marry me?” He asked placing his forehead on yours, wanting nothing but hold you until they ripped him off of you. “Yes Benedict, Yes I will.”
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