Chapter 17: Tutoring Karen~
Fiona wolfed down her breakfast first. Even on her day off, she had a string of part-time jobs to get to.
However, thanks to the few hundred bucks Shane "found," the budget was loose enough to allow her to throw a small party tonight. She planned to invite Veronica, Kevin, and the crew over to relax.
When Fiona announced the news, the Gallaghers were naturally all for it.
V and Kev were arguably the most stable and "pure love" couple in the show, and Shane had always liked them.
Plus, he was calculating in his head: for his future "fitness influencer" plan, maybe V could help him make connections. She could hype him up on her "livestreams" to bring in some initial clients and build word-of-mouth.
Or maybe he could use Kevin as his first student, document the before-and-after transformation, and use that as a billboard.
Fiona stuffed the pile of dirty clothes accumulated over the past few days into the ancient washing machine that sounded like a tractor—Clang-clang-clang—when it ran.
The origin of this antique was unknown. Shane's memory was fuzzy, but he thought he, Lip, and Ian might have "liberated" it from someone's porch while they were moving out over a decade ago.
The washing machine began its familiar dance, looking like it might disintegrate at any moment.
Fiona sat on the vibrating lid and looked around the room:
"After the wash, who has time to hang these up inside? The budget for tonight's party is tight; we don't have money to go to the laundromat for the dryer."
Lip was the first to bail: "Can't. I got my own project on Sunday. Gotta make money."
Ian raised his hand: "Working."
Fiona looked at Debbie and Carl.
Debbie shook her head:
"Can't. Annie invited me over to play today. But I can take Liam with me; her mom said it's fine."
As for Carl... forget it. It would be a miracle if he didn't set the clothes on fire.
Finally, everyone's eyes landed, once again, tacitly on Shane.
Shane sighed internally. The previous owner was indeed a bit of a homebody. On days off, he was either at home or at Karen's. His routine was boringly fixed.
He raised his hands in surrender: "Fine, no problem. I got it."
"Yes! I knew you were reliable!"
Fiona cheered. Lip and Ian shot him looks that said "Thanks for taking one for the team, bro" and bumped his shoulder in "consolation."
Amidst the familiar noise, breakfast ended.
The Gallaghers scattered like dandelion seeds again, heading to their respective destinations. In the blink of an eye, only Carl and Shane were left at home.
Shane decided to fulfill yesterday's promise first.
He ran down to the basement, found an old wooden board, measured the hole, and then bought a hand saw and some nails directly from the system. Bang, bang, bang—he hammered away at the hole.
The craftsmanship was rough, but the hole was plugged.
"OK, mission accomplished."
Just as he walked down the stairs, he remembered Karen mentioning a few days ago that she was coming over on Sunday to "study" together.
Speak of the devil—
Knock, knock, knock! A brisk knock sounded at the door.
Shane walked over and cracked it open. Sure enough, it was Karen.
He pulled the door open, and Karen immediately threw herself into his arms, delivering a passionate, wet kiss.
Shane responded enthusiastically, hooking her backpack off her shoulder and tossing it to Carl, who was watching with wide eyes.
"Carl, take Karen's bag inside and put it away. Then go watch your cartoons like a good boy."
As he spoke, Shane pulled a ten-dollar bill from his pocket and waved it in front of Carl's face. His tone was urgent: "Behave yourself, and this is yours."
Carl looked at Shane's desperate expression, then at the bill, and grinned a knowing, mischievous grin.
"OK, no problem!"
Shane said no more and scooped Karen up in his arms.
He wasn't the old "pure love warrior" Shane anymore. When meat is delivered to your mouth, you eat it.
To the sound of Carl's snickering, Shane carried the blushing Karen and rushed down to the basement.
...
lemon :
Shane kicked the basement door shut behind him with a solid thud, the old wood rattling in its frame. The space was dim and cluttered—stacks of junk, the patched-up hole in the wall still smelling faintly of fresh sawdust—but the heater was blasting full tilt, turning the air thick and warm like a sauna. Perfect. He didn't waste a second setting Karen down; instead he spun her around and pressed her back against the cool concrete wall, his mouth crashing into hers again.
This wasn't the shy, hesitant Karen from a week ago. She moaned into the kiss like she'd been starving for it, tongue sliding hot and slick against his, her fingers already yanking at the hem of his shirt. Shane helped her, ripping the fabric over his head and tossing it somewhere behind the couch. Her backpack hit the floor with a thump—Carl could deal with that later. Right now, nothing else existed.
"God, you're so fucking hot," Karen breathed, nails scraping down his chest, tracing the lines of muscle he'd been building. Her eyes were glassy, lips swollen and shiny. She shoved her hoodie off one shoulder, then the other, letting it drop. Underneath she wore a thin white tank top, no bra—nipples already hard and poking through the fabric like they'd been waiting for him.
Shane didn't bother with words. He hooked his thumbs under the tank and peeled it upward, exposing her perky tits—small, pale, perfect handfuls with rosy little peaks. He ducked his head and sucked one into his mouth, tongue swirling, teeth grazing just enough to make her gasp and arch. His free hand palmed the other, rolling the nipple between his fingers while Karen's hands fumbled with his belt.
"Shane—fuck—hurry," she whimpered, hips rolling against him. The buckle finally gave way. She shoved his jeans and boxers down in one frantic motion, and his cock sprang free—thick, hard, already leaking at the tip. Karen's eyes widened, a hungry little smile curving her lips. "Holy shit… I knew you were big, but damn."
She wrapped her small hand around him, stroking once, twice, thumb smearing the bead of pre-cum over the head. Shane groaned, hips jerking forward. He kicked his pants the rest of the way off, then spun her around so her chest pressed to the wall. One hand slid down the front of her tiny denim shorts, popping the button and dragging the zipper down. No panties. Of course. His fingers found her already soaked—slippery, hot, swollen folds that parted eagerly for him.
"Wet as fuck already," he growled against her ear, circling her clit with two fingers. Karen's head fell back against his shoulder, a broken moan spilling out.
"Been thinking about this since I woke up," she admitted, voice shaky. "Touching myself in the shower… pretending it was you."
That confession snapped the last thread of restraint. Shane yanked her shorts down to her ankles. She stepped out of them, kicking them aside. He bent her forward slightly, one hand on the back of her neck, the other guiding his cock to her entrance. The head nudged between her lips, slick and ready.
"Tell me you want it," he said, teasing just the tip inside.
"I want it—fuck me, Shane, please—"
He thrust in hard, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke. Karen cried out, walls clenching around him like a vice—tight, scorching, perfect. The basement echoed with the wet slap of skin on skin as he started moving, deep and relentless. Every thrust rocked her forward against the wall; every pull dragged a needy whimper from her throat.
"Harder," she gasped. "Don't hold back—I can take it."
So he didn't. He gripped her hips, pounding into her with enough force that the old couch nearby actually shook. Karen's hands scrambled for purchase on the wall, nails scratching concrete. Sweat already beaded on both of them. The sound of her soaked pussy taking every inch filled the room—obscene, wet, filthy.
Shane reached around and rubbed her clit in tight circles. Her legs started trembling within seconds.
"Gonna—oh god—Shane—!"
She came hard, pussy pulsing and fluttering around his cock, a gush of wetness coating his balls. The orgasm ripped a loud, broken moan out of her that probably carried upstairs, but neither of them cared. Shane kept fucking her through it, chasing his own release, hips stuttering.
"Inside," she panted. "Come inside me—fill me up—"
That was all it took. He slammed in one last time and exploded, thick ropes of cum pumping deep into her. His groan was guttural, vision whiting out for a second as he held her tight against him, grinding through the aftershocks.
They stayed locked together, panting, bodies slick with sweat. Shane finally pulled out slowly, a trickle of his cum leaking down her inner thigh. Karen turned in his arms, cheeks flushed crimson, eyes hazy and satisfied but already sparkling with mischief again.
She looked up at him, biting her swollen lower lip.
"Wow… I thought maybe you had some… um… issue, since you never touched me. Turns out… you're this… wild?"
Shane smirked, winding a strand of her blonde hair around his finger, still half-hard and pressed against her stomach.
"Of course. I was just afraid you couldn't handle it before."
Karen hummed, a soft, kittenish sound, and rubbed against him again. "Mmm… okay, so… help me with my homework later?"
But even as she said it, her eyes were already darkening, hips rolling suggestively.
The "study session" was clearly nowhere near over.
After a hearty, earth-shaking "battle," Shane successfully "subdued" the tormenting little demon that was Karen.
A trace of surprise flashed through Shane's mind: "Whoa, hit the jackpot."
He quickly reviewed the merged memories, and it all made sense:
Because of his "hero saves beauty" moment (even if it was just thugs running their mouths), because of his handsome mixed-race face (probably the main reason).
And even more so because of his long-term, almost "pure love" companionship and restraint. It had largely filled the void of stability and love Karen missed from her unreliable parents.
This prevented her from blindly rushing to extremes as early as she did in the show.
Looking at her character in the series, deep down, didn't Karen crave a focused and stable relationship?
Her later actions in the original show, though frustratingly stupid, were at their core a twisted search for "normal" parental love and intimacy.
Karen looked up, cheeks flushed, eyes misty and slightly reproachful, her voice soft and sticky:
"Wow... I thought maybe you had some... um... issue, since you never touched me. Turns out... you're this... wild?"
Shane curled his lips into a roguish smile, winding a lock of her blonde hair around his finger:
"Of course. I was just afraid you couldn't handle it before."
"Mmm..." Karen hummed contentedly, like a kitten being petted. "OK, so... help me with my homework later?"
"No problem," Shane agreed readily.
But Karen's eyes shimmered. She leaned close to his ear, her breath warm:
"Wait a bit... for some reason, thinking about homework makes me feel all... hot again."
She rubbed against him suggestively.
Shane raised an eyebrow: "So... round two?"
"Uh-huh~ Science makes me horny."
... (I know you guys definitely don't want to read this, so I skipped it again)
After who knows how many rounds, Shane felt like he'd been fished out of the water. The basement heating was on full blast, and combined with the vigorous exercise, both of them were slick with sweat.
"So sweaty."
He patted Karen. "Shower?"
The flush hadn't faded from Karen's face. She nodded weakly: "Yeah, whatever you say."
They threw on some clothes.
Shane walked out of the basement first. He saw Carl still in the same position, mouth open, staring blankly at the cartoons on TV like he was petrified.
Shane patted Karen, who had followed him out, gesturing for her to go start the hot water in the second-floor bathroom.
Then he walked up to Carl and snapped his fingers to bring him back to reality: "Carl."
Carl jolted and turned his head.