#I’m. tipsy for sure. I had enough of a thought to be like. hm. maybe I don’t send this. but then I did.

[autopsytableromance]

Had a couple white claws and told him to listen to pulling teeth. Was this a mistake yes or no.

[tinytennisskirt]

Hall Pass

Patrick Zweig x Art'sGirlfriend!Reader

Summary: Patrick has been wanting Art's girlfriend for too long. He's not proud of it. When you, Art, Tashi, and Patrick go to a frat party, Patrick finds himself in a compromising position alone with you and maybe... gives in.

Warnings: drinking, mentions of masturbation, slight blowjob, patrick going down, tipsy sex (consensual), yearning, cheating but it's not actually cheating...

Patrick hated wanting you. It was the worst part of his every day. Crossing paths with you, he hated every moment. Seeing you after your classes, he hated every second. Every millisecond he spent alone with you he hated with an incredible fiery passion and it was awful- because what he hated more than anything is what it would do to Art if he found out just how badly Patrick wanted his girlfriend.

It was Jessie’s Girl on the radio. Stupid fucking song, Patrick thought. You, Tashi, Art, and Patrick were sitting in your dorm room talking about tennis. Art had his arm around you, leaned up against the wall on the pink comforter of your elevated bed. Every now and then, Patrick noticed how you leaned your head toward Art and he would kiss your forehead in the sweetest of ways and it was just sickening.

Tashi snapped in Patrick’s face. “Earth to Patrick?” She said, gesturing in question. Patrick turned his head.

“Hm?”

“What did you think of Art’s backhand today?” She asked. Patrick looked at Art, then back at Tashi.

“It was fine, I mean he didn’t lunge enough on that first big one, but it was fine.” He half-assed a response. He looked at you, pretending to understand the conversation. You weren’t at Stanford for tennis, you were there for creative writing and Patrick knew just how disinterested and tired you must have been from being at the court all day and coming back just to talk about tennis. “Can we change the topic though, Tashi? We’re boring Y/N to death.” He gestured to you.

You chucked, “I’m fine, I’ll live.” You said. Art chuckled and apologized. You were sweet the way you smiled, the way your lips pulled back to reveal the prettiest teeth. Patrick fucking hated it. “I do have to ask if you guys heard about the party later?”

Everyone perked up, even Tashi, who was usually still stuck on the topic of tennis. “At the frat?” Art asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, small smile still there. “We could go to that if you guys aren’t tired. I know Patrick has been in need of an excuse to drink for ages now.” You referenced him and it took all he had not to explode. You made it so hard to breathe around Art, it practically suffocated him.

“Yeah, we can go,” Art said, sitting up. His arm removed itself from around you and Patrick hated his internal rejoice. “They start at like, nine right?”

Tashi stood up, “Nine. That’s in forty minutes, meaning we are kicking you both out and meeting you at Art’s dorm to pregame. You still have the giant vodka bottle right?”

“Under my bed,” Art grinned and stood up before kissing you goodbye. Patrick had to look away. “Sounds perfect. See you soon.”

Art pulled Patrick out of the room, leaving you and Tashi to get ready. The moment they were out of the room, both boys braced each other with excitement. Frat parties meant unbridled college drinking and quite possibly a cigarette or two as well as girls in minimal clothing. Patrick recalled the last time you all went to a party, you wore a t-shirt that looked a little too snug on you and when you were drunk you confessed to Patrick you bought it in the kids section of the thrift store. Patrick could not get the thought of you in the little shirt out of his mind for weeks after that.

“Tonight you can make a move on Tashi,” Art said, punching Patrick in the arm. It snapped him out of his trance once again. “Once the drinks get on, you know, make your move.”

“Not sure if I should yet,” You told him. Tashi was your front for liking you. It was simple- if you turned Patrick on in any way, he blamed Tashi if Art asked about it. If he blushed, if he did anything telltale, he blamed Tashi. So Art was sure Patrick was head over heels for her and not you. His cover. “I think I’d like it better if we were sober.” He reasoned. It was a fake reason.

“And let her hook up with some frat guy?”

“It’s college, she can do what she wants. It would mean more sober.” He did not care that much.

“Ah,” Art nodded. The two boys sat in Art’s room and tossed a stray tennis ball back and forth. Art spoke again, “Oh I didn’t tell you but Y/N and I had what was probably the greatest sex of my- hoping OUR lives last night. I’m telling you the ‘coconut’ thing is very real, all credit to her for it.”

Patrick felt nauseous, but the idea of it was enough to pull a pillow over his lap. “Damn, I think I read about that in a magazine. It’s that good?” He had to engage, unfortunately.

“Oh yeah,” Art nodded, raising his eyebrows. “I’ve never had a girl do that to me, it was crazy.”

The conversation went on and it was hard and Patrick was hard and overall it was just a shitty situation and Patrick hated it. He took the deepest breath to get through it. Eventually the conversation was over with a knock on the door. Art was fast to get it. Tashi was visible first.

“You guys didn’t even change,” she said.

Art shrugged, “Should we have?”

“Probably, the theme is traffic lights. You’re wearing green, buddy, that tells women you’re go to hookup.” She pointed at Art’s green shirt. Patrick peered to see if you were behind Tashi, but you weren’t. “Y/N is finishing her eyeliner she’ll be over in a second. You two, change.” Tashi said. She was wearing green, Patrick noticed before she shut the door. Art threw two red shirts on his bed from the dresser under it.

“You going green tonight?” He asked, taking off the shirt he was wearing and tossing it to Patrick.

“For sure,” Patrick grinned. Art took out the big bottle of vodka from under the bed and took a swig before pulling on a red polo shirt. Patrick pulled on Art’s green shirt and did up the buttons but not all the way. He handed Patrick the bottle and Patrick took a swig. Tasted awful with no mixer, Patrick knew you’d complain. He dug in his pockets for change and found he had enough for a bottle of Coke, which he’d get on the way there.

Art opened the door just as you approached Tashi and both of the girls walked in. Patrick’s eyes fell on you all too easily. You were wearing black, a black skirt, a square-neckline tank top. There was no red or green on you, but fuck, you looked gorgeous. Patrick noted your perfect eyeliner and the perfume you usually wore to parties and he hated the way it filled the room when you walked in.

“I don’t own any yellow,” you said, shrugging. Nobody batted an eye. You kissed Art, who was wearing the brightest of reds and Tashi grabbed ahold of the big vodka bottle and took her swig. Patrick didn’t say a word, but slipped out to the vending machine just down the hall, returning with a bottle of Coke which he knew you’d probably need now for a mixer. He put it right in your hands wordlessly, even when you said thank you.

Tashi wore a green tank too much like yours, but it didn’t look the same or as flattering. Patrick wondered if maybe he would turn Tashi into a real distraction, but even if he was drinking, would she really be worth it? He was wearing green, so he probably wouldn’t have to settle for Tashi, but at this point, looking at you in that skirt, that top, focusing on the small sliver of your waist that showed in the middle and the way your collarbones looked against the black of the shirt, he knew he would HAVE to find a distraction tonight. Especially if he was drinking heavily, which he did plan on doing.

You all decided to go around 9:40, just before girls had to pay to get in. Everyone had a decent buzz and you’d filled half of your coke bottle with vodka, so you were set. Patrick found it endearing you couldn’t drink vodka straight- kind of cute. Patrick tried to ignore how you and Art walked hand-in-hand. He took the big bottle and took another large swig.

The party was loud and pretty packed on both floors. Stuffy, too. You immediately dragged Tashi away to dance with you, a complete lightweight. Patrick decided to occupy himself by teaming up with Art at cup pong. The beer was flowing, the vodka was passed around and girls were asking Patrick to come with them downstairs, upstairs.

“I’m going to find Y/N!” Art yelled to Patrick over the music. Patrick nodded, being pulled one way by a redhead who looked nothing like you. Any distraction he could take, really. She kissed him but he hated it. She was sloppy, slobbery, and he made an excuse and walked away. He spotted you and Art, and even with the alcohol you’d had it was not easy to see how you kissed him. You were shorter than Art was, which meant you were shorter than Patrick and the kiss was strong and Patrick just couldn’t look away no matter how much it hurt to see. He hated it. Every second of it.

He turned away and shook his head, saving himself. And he walked up the stairs just for a better view of things. He opened doors to multiple people making out, but the room at the end was surprisingly empty. And Patrick entered and locked the door. He laid down on the bed on his back, the ceiling spinning and the music downstairs muffled but echoing around his head.

Why did you have to be so hot? Why did you have to be so gorgeous? Fuck, it was stupid how into you Patrick was, so head over heels and dumb over you. A million girls at a party and all he could think about was you, just you, only you, all you. You and Art, kissing, touching, the details of the sex just spun around his head. It made him hard, he hated it, he hated how guilty it made him feel. He hated thinking about your perfect waist in that top, he hated thinking about your tits in that top, he hated thinking about what you’d look like without it. It was stupid. Patrick rubbed his eyes and swore at himself. “Fuck.” And tried to put you out of his head. He waited for the boner to die down before going back out to the party to hopefully find a distraction and keep it so that he kept away, but the second he opened the door, there you were. Outside of it. “Y/N,” he said.

“Patrick!” You greeted him. “I’ve been waiting for the bathroom for like ten minutes.”

You were drunk. Patrick peered back into the master bedroom he was in, “There’s one in here?” He suggested. You slipped past him in seconds, your scent wafting. He shut the door behind you. He waited until you came back out, guarding the door just in case.

“Thank you,” you said, fixing your skirt as you came out of the bathroom. “Have you seen Art, by any chance? He said he was going to play cup pong but I didn’t see him.”

“I haven’t,” Patrick answered, eyes lingering on your frame.

“That’s fine,” you nodded, walking over to Patrick. You stood in front of him, looking up. “Have you seen Tashi?” You asked. Patrick stepped back. “Okay, are you afraid of me, what’s that about?”

He didn’t think you’d notice. “I haven’t seen… Tashi and no, not afraid.” Patrick chuckled, even through the alcohol. He hardly had it in himself to laugh, he was going through every possibility right now. He hated that he was alone with you, he wanted you to leave, he actually was quite afraid at the moment.

“You stepped back,” you said. “Do I smell bad or something?"

“Not at all, you smell good,” Patrick spoke faster than he could think. “I’m just- maybe we should find Art.”

“Or we could just stay here and let him find us. It’s so much quieter in here.” You stepped toward him again and brushed your hair behind your ears. “You’re tall. I never noticed just how tall you are.” You told him. He almost laughed, he would have if you were anyone else. “What is your problem?” You asked, sounding almost offended.

“Nothing, nothing,” Patrick said. He hated how close you were to him. He hated how good you smelled, he hated how he was above you and could see you all too clearly. “Nothing is my… problem.” He swallowed hard. He had too much to drink for this.

“I’m surprised you’re in green,” you said, changing the topic again. Drunk you was all too believing, at least you wouldn’t catch on. “I thought maybe you’d have yellow because of things with Tashi. But Tashi is also in green.”

“Tashi isn’t my type,” Patrick let slip. You looked at him curiously- he hoped you wouldn’t remember. “And you’re in black, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means I don’t own anything yellow,” you reminded him, stepping closer when Patrick took another step back. Patrick was about to start sweating even in the air conditioning of this one specific room. You looked at Patrick through your eyelashes and he fought all the blood in his body from moving downwards. He debated running, he debated leaping out the window, anything. He didn’t even want to meet your eyes. “Patrick.” You said his name and he was throbbing. He hated you, he hated this, he hated this room, this bed, this lighting, your stupid lack of yellow.

Yellow?

“You were going to wear yellow?”

“Mhm,” drunk you nodded. “I like red but it’s not me.”

“Yeah…” Patrick said. He stepped back and you stepped forward. He was truthfully very afraid of this version of you.

“Art likes red, he used to be green, but now he likes red. And I’ve never been a red kind of girl.” You continued. He stepped back, and you stepped forward. Patrick was a lot bigger than you, but he was being backed into a corner. “I like yellow a lot more.”

“Yeah but Art likes red, so there’s that and…you…” Patrick said with almost a panic to his voice. His heart beat fast in his chest, he couldn’t finish his sentence the way you were looking at him. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so confused.”

You grinned and put your hands on your hips, you were so gorgeous when you smiled like that. Patrick’s insides did a backflip. You shook your head, your perfect hair flowing. “Art is red, I am yellow. Art knows I’m yellow.” You said. Patrick shook his head. There was silence and you blinked hard before speaking in the flattest tone.

“Patrick, I know you want to fuck me.”

He went cold. His whole body went cold. He wondered if he was hearing things, he wondered if she really just called him out here, drunk, in a room alone. He must have been dreaming of having a nightmare but it was something for sure. All he could choke out was, “H-hm?” You looked at him knowingly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said.

“So you’re going to pretend like you haven’t been thinking about it all night?” You prodded. Fuck, Patrick thought, I’m losing my mind. He was thinking maybe he had alcohol poisoning because you were sweet and you were cute and what you just said was... hot.

Patrick played dumb. “Thinking about what?”

“What it would feel like to fuck me.” You answered, too bluntly. Maybe he was dead and this was an afterlife. “I know you think about it. I know when you want it. I know you’re not that into Tashi.” You called him out. His skin burned red hot. You were reading his mind. He had no idea you, so sweet, could talk like this. Could even revolve around this.

“Y/N, I- you can’t be saying shit like that,” as if he wasn’t hard. As if you didn’t notice every time you’d made him hard before.

“Like it’s not true, Patrick. Tell me it’s not true.”

He blinked. He couldn’t. “I-“

“Fuck me.” You said. You didn’t ask.

“Whatttt the fuckkk,” Patrick dragged out. This wasn’t real. This was some wet dream. He wanted to say yes, he wanted to say no. He never hated you more than he did in this very moment. “I can’t.”

“You can, I know you can,” you said, stepping closer. “I want you to.”

This was scripted. This was a test. This was evil. All the possibilities ran through your head. “Why?” That is all he could choke out.

“Art likes sharing with you, does he not?” You gestured to Art’s shirt he was wearing. “Patrick, I know you want to. I’m not asking.”

“Fuck, I-“ he would consent. He would consent a thousand times if it wasn’t his best friend's goddamn girlfriend. You looked at him with those eyes, those eyes he absolutely hated. You were perfect and you were asking for it, and you were still Art's. You were Art's.

Fuck, this was awful. And there was nobody Patrick hated more than himself when he kissed you.

Full force, so hard you stumbled backward. His large hands cupped your face. You tasted sweet like cherry coke and kissing you was everything he’d wanted and fucking more. You kissed back with more than he had even been able to imagine, hands gripping his shirt tight. Art's shirt. You were Art's. You were everything.

Patrick didn’t waste a fucking second, his hands traveled smoothly down from your jaw to your chest, your waist-god your perfect fucking waist- your hips, your ass. You wrapped your arms around his neck and there was nothing more guilt-bringing than the way your lips grazed along his jaw and neck, kissing a trail so easily.

You weren’t sloppy, despite the alcohol, it felt calculated, it felt fucking good. He wondered still if he was dreaming but the crude awakening was that this was wrong. It might have been everything, but it was wrong and it was shady and it was fucking dirty but you were here and you were kissing him and you were locking the door, and fuck, you were too perfect.

From the second he met you, Patrick wanted you. You’d kept him up at night, distracted him during the day, you threw his tennis game and for all of that he hated you. He hated your perfect fucking lips, how soft they were, how they felt when you got on your knees, undid his fly, pulled away boxers and put them over his dick. He hated your soft hands and how they assisted. He hated your perfect eyes, your perfect eyelashes that you looked up at him through. He hated the noise you were forcing out of him as your head bobbed. It took all he had not to push your head down, but he wasn’t an asshole despite how desperate he was to feel more of you.

“Fuck,” Patrick groaned. The sight was too much. The guilt set in the more he looked at you, perfect, on your knees for him. You were Art's. He stopped you, though. But only to kiss you again. The bed was right there but he dropped to his knees on the fluffy carpet and kissed your neck, down your neck. You raised your arms and he practically ripped your shirt off to reveal you in the most perfect bra he’d ever seen. God, you were so beautiful. You arched your back and Patrick didn’t miss a beat unclipping your bra with one hand. You threw it across the room.

His mouth traveled down your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth. The small whine you made was fucking intoxicating and there was something to be said about the way it made his cock twitch. Kissing down your stomach, Patrick unzipped your skirt. It was all too easy.

This was so wrong, he thought, looking at the lace of your underwear. No shirt, no skirt, and shoes already gone. O,h it was so crude, the way you slipped your underwear down right then and there, leaving yourself entirely bare for him on the floor. He discarded his pants and boxers, pulling off Art’s shirt. It landed with the lightest thud and there was nothing left there shared by Patrick and Art but you.

Patrick kissed down your stomach, sick as he imagined Art doing the very same. But he wondered how good Art was as Patrick gently opened your legs to reveal just how soaked you were. Practically dripping. There was nothing, no morals going to stop him from burying his face in you. And he did just that.

“Fuck!” You cried out as heat spread throughout your whole body. “Patrick!” You squealed as he licked gently over your clit. He’d barely done anything- but Patrick took pride in his tongue skills, so it wasn’t too surprising. And you tasted perfect- better than he had imagined. Sweet, but the way someone should. And it was more intoxicating than anything alcoholic present. He pushed his face into your cunt, licking as deep into you as he could, licking stripes all the way up and all the way down and drawing circles on your clit with his tongue. You squirmed at all of it, breathing heavily, unable to control the noises you were making. He seemed to have found a sweet spot not on, but near your clit and he tongued a pattern into it and snuck his fingers over, gently rubbing above your entrance before slipping his pointer and middle finger into you. Your back arched, bringing him closer as he simultaneously pumped his fingers into you and licked.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moaned. “Oh god.” You pulled his hair, and you gripped the carpet. Patrick, who was untouched, finished right then and there. As he let out a strained groan, he didn’t stop either action. His fingers pumped in and out of you, wet, soaked, tongue tasting you without end. “I’m going to-“ you moaned and breathed heavily, “Fuck, Patrick, don’t stop!” You ordered. Feeling you tighten, he only worsened his pace and in seconds you came undone on his hand and face.

Your chest heaved, your eyes shut. Patrick was drunk on you, he was dazed- he was so fucked. But you were a slut, apparently. His at the moment, turning around where you lay on the carpet and climbing onto the bed. Patrick was so fucking glad he had two condoms in his pocket that he dug into there was nothing that could stop him from fucking you absolutely senseless at the moment. He was frenzied, out of control and this was so fucking wrong, but with your taste still on his lips how could he not?

He got up, rolling the condom on as you situated yourself on the bed, ass facing him. He was dreaming, this was not real. You weren't real, but you were Art's. Patrick couldn't help himself. “This is okay?” He asked, just making sure. He itched for it, he had itched for it for what felt like forever, and at this point, his desperation and the situation were too much. All of his morals were fucking destroyed.

“Yes.” You said with enough enthusiasm that Patrick had no problem fucking into you from behind. You cried out in pain, not used to something so thick, but you were so wet, it slipped in like nothing. And Patrick grabbed your hips hard enough that tomorrow you’d be bruised. And he fucked you shamelessly as if Art wasn’t even a factor in this equation. It was so wrong, but back arched and stomach against the bed, you were his at the moment. His to fuck. Who cared about the aftermath when you felt so good?

You were perfect and tight and wet and the noise of skin on skin was like music. You cried out every time Patrick thrust into you, feeling him absolutely fill you every single time. He wondered if Art ever fucked you this hard, filled you so well. He wondered if you sounded like this with him, a moaning mess.

“Fuck!” You cried out, “Harder!” As if you weren’t already taking it hard and fast. Patrick had no problem slamming into you, rough as if this had been months in the making. As if he didn’t picture this every time he was alone in bed. As if he didn’t dream about this. You grabbed onto the bed for dear life and Patrick was nearing his end.

“I’m so close, you feel s- you feel so good,” Patrick choked out. It was too easy, but he didn’t want it to be over. The warning was good enough for you apparently because you purposefully tightened around him, pulling him dangerously close to the edge. “Fuck, you feel amazing.” Patrick groaned.

“Fuck me harder,” you begged. And Patrick used all of the force he had to fuck you, the headboard slamming against the wall so hard it put a small dent in it. You moaned so loudly, Patrick swore to never let that sound go and saved it like an audio file to his memory. “I’m so-“

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” Patrick said.

“Yes,” you moaned. “Fuck, Patrick.”

He gripped your ass and waist and pulled you back onto him as he fucked you harder than ever and you almost shrieked from how good it felt to be so filled, so fucked as Patrick spilled into you. Your mouth hung a little open as you followed suit, letting out every noise you felt and breathing heavily. Patrick swore as he finished that he saw a flash of light, something of the sort, maybe he saw God. His orgasm was long, leaving him practically twitching and he filled the condom with everything he didn’t know he had.

You were a sweet girl, no wonder you liked it rough. Patrick was sweaty, fucked out, and pulled out, pulling off the condom and collapsing flat on his back. You sighed and laid there, absolutely ruined. Your mascara streaked down your face from how good you were fucked.

“Oh my god.” This post-nut clarity was the worst. It hit Patrick that he just fucked the living daylights out of his best friend’s girlfriend. The guilt came at him like a semi-truck. Patrick had just fucked up majorly, he was starting to think up ways to disappear. “Fuck.”

“Hm?” You mumbled, absolutely whipped.

Patrick rubbed his face, trying to get rid of the feeling, but it settled in. Fuck, he had just fucked the girl he was completely obsessed with but at what fucking cost? She was drinking, he was drinking, what the fuck would they do about this? How would they get out of this?

“I’m fucking awful,” Patrick groaned and not in the good way. He cleaned up with a nearby tissue and put his boxers and pants back on. His heart beat fast in his chest, he wasn’t rested enough from the sex so it all came like a headrush.

“Why?” You asked, still laying perfectly naked on the bed

“The fuck do you mean why?” Patrick said a bit more harshly than he intended. “I just fucked my best friend’s girlfriend.”

“Oh relax,” you said, sitting up. You were so perfect, Patrick couldn’t hate anything about you. “He’s fine with it.”

Patrick choked on absolutely nothing and it turned into a cough. “He’s what?”

“He said I could,” you replied, pulling your bra back on, then your shirt. Patrick stood there, dumbfounded, putting his shirt back on. “Patrick, it’s okay.” You chuckled.

“How? Why?” He put his hands behind his head, just dumbfounded.

You slipped into the bathroom and Patrick waited for your reply. What the fuck- what the fuck? Part of Art knowing was so fucking embarrassing but at the same time confusing? You slipped back out, “I’m yellow tonight, remember? Art knows. And he likes that it’s you and not some stranger.”

“He let you? He knows?”

“Oh yeah. And I wouldn't go for anyone else anyways. You grinned, putting your underwear and skirt back on. “That was… I’m… you were.” He didn’t expect to face you stuttering. “I’ve never been eaten out like that before.”

Patrick laughed and you giggled. Somehow, in some fucked up way, he was in the clear? He guessed it was Art-like to share his girlfriend. But there was no way- “Really?”

“Never. You're good.” You smiled your winning smile and both of you fixed yourselves up again without talking about it. Patrick was more than satisfied and satiated. All of that was crazy, but so good. He'd finally have to stop using his imagination late at night now. He wondered how much Art actually knew... Like clockwork, there was a knock on the door. Patrick's heart still skipped. You hopped over and answered the door.

"Found you," Art grinned. You smiled and kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and for once, it didn't make Patrick feel sick. He'd kissed you too now, it was easier to self-insert. He almost laughed at the thought. "You guys okay?"

"Oh, yeah," You nodded. "I'm gonna go find Tashi and we can go in a bit!"

"Sounds good," Art said. Patrick silently wished you wouldn't go, but you were gone. Art came in and shut the door. "You guys..." He lead on. Patrick's heart raced. But Art just laughed, "Did she do the coconut thing?"

Patrick rubbed his eyes, still a little shellshocked at the situation. Art knew his best friend, "You're her hall pass. I already took mine when we started dating." Art continued. "We both had one for our college eras. Plus, I don't really mind all that much. Thought I would, but it's you, so."

His heart slowed just a little, "Hall pass." he repeated like it was foreign. Art walked over and clapped Patrick on the back, their faces close.

"Yeah. It kept things interesting." Art said with a grin. "So are you going to tell me about it or are you just going to stand there looking like you've seen a ghost?"

Patrick couldn't help the grin that came with that true relief. He hadn't fucked himself over, Art was asking about it like you were something shared. Laughing over it, even and answering all his questions, asking your own. You were now, hall pass wearer of the year, with the door between two best friends. As bad as Patrick was feeling about it still- he knew he'd be satisfied from now on. The relief was also that he couldn't hate you so much now. It would be easier for sure.

As far as this went, it was rarely referenced from that point on. Things moved forward like nothing even happened. It was easy and natural and done with. But nobody truly forgot, not Patrick, for sure. Something to go down in your college-era lore and nothing more.

[foreverfangirlsblog]

Abracadabra (Husk x Reader)

Summary:

Reader finds out that Husk used to do magic so she begs him to show her a magic trick.

Notes:

Word count: 1003 My requests are officially open!

Y/N was sitting at the bar, sipping on her cocktail, eyes shamelessly studying Husk’s features. From the cute love hearts on his fur, to the patterned dots on his folded wings.

Husk knew you were staring him down, he’d have to be blind not to notice. But he was also keeping track of how many drinks you’ve consumed, and he knew it was more than enough to get you a bit tipsy.

“Ya know you can take a picture, it would last longer” His comment made you snap out of the trace he had on you, and a slight blush raise to your cheeks.

“Sorry I just…..can I ask you a question?”

His eyebrow raised at you a bit hesitant “Sure, what’s on your mind”

“Well I was wondering….why is it you look so….” Husk tensed up a bit, guard on high, fully expecting you to ask why the hell he became a furry “…well so magical?”

He hesitated, surprised by the question. Now it was his turn to blush. He half laughed at your wording, “Well truthfully gambling isn’t the only skill I have. I also used to do some magic”

“Used to?” You questioned

“Well yeah I haven’t done magic in….well since I ended up down here”

You hummed in response acknowledging his answer. A brief moment of silence passed while the gears turned in your head. “OH MY SATAN CAN YOU SHOW ME A MAGIC TRICK PLEASE!!”

Your sudden loudness caught him by surprise and then he laughed. “I don’t think so doll”

“Oh pleaseeeee” you practically whined.

Husk couldn’t help but think about how nice it sounded…you begging him. “If I show you a trick what’s in it for me? Will you pay me for my services?” Husk smirked.

You looked at him with a tilted head quizzingly “You know I’m broke Husk what could I give you?”

Husk sighed. The flirty comment went right over your head in your tipsy state. ‘Dammit I thought alcohol was supposed to make people more flirty’ he thought to himself. “I’ll tell ya what. If you remember this conversation tomorrow then maybe, MAYBE, I’ll show you a trick or two” he winked at you.

“You got a deal!” You said happily before downing the rest of your drink and heading to your room for bed.

There’s no way you’re letting yourself forget.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day you quickly threw on a random outfit to race down to the lobby and see if Husk was at his usual spot.

Once you got to the lobby you saw that the bar was actually empty. ‘Hm I guess he slept in’ you thought.

You sat at the bar swinging your feet in anticipation to see when Husk would make his way down.

Finally after what seemed like eternity, you saw Husk slowly walk into the lobby. He seemed super groggy and was rubbing his eyes in attempt to wake himself up.

“Husk you’re finally awake!”

Husk jumped slightly at your loud greeting and scowled a bit “What the hells with the loud greeting?”

“Sorry” you said bashfully, “rough night?”

“Nah, not really I just uh, had a late night” you nodded in acknowledgment.

You sat expectedly in your seat, practically jumping with excitement. Husk took his time getting settled behind the bar. “Alright what’s getting you all excited?”

“Ohhh just our conversation last night~” you replied teasingly.

Husk paused, he half expected you to forget the conversation from the previous night. But then again you weren’t exactly wasted. “Damn, you really remembered” Husk smirked as you smiled gleefully. “Alright doll watch closely”

Husk pulled a deck of cards out from his pockets. Fully prepared for this moment despite his so called hesitation from before. “Don’t judge me if this doesn’t work, it has been a while” he said despite skillfully shuffling the cards before fanning them to you, showing you both sides to prove that it was a normal deck. “Alright pick a card”

“Any card?” You teased.

He rolled his eyes at you but couldn’t fight the smile that creeped onto his face. After picking a card he instructed you to memorize the card, then to place it randomly back into the deck.

He offered to let you shuffle the deck for proof of no trickery but you declined, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in comparison to his skilled shuffle from before. He shrugged and continued to shuffle the deck.

“Alright here’s the fun part” he started before lifting the first card on the deck to face you, “is this your card?”

Despite the smirk on his face you noticed that it was not in fact your card. You hesitated a bit ‘should I lie and say it is?’

The hesitation and disappointment must’ve been obvious on your face because Husk laughed. Despite your confusion he continued, “I’m just fucking with ya, look in your pocket”. He winked at you before you stuck a hand in your pocket.

“Holy shit” you said as you pulled a card out from your back pocket. True enough it was the card you picked “How the fuck did you do that??”

He laughed at your excitement “A magician never reveals his secret doll”

You blushed as a goofy smile took over your face. “Alright now how am I supposed to pay you back?”

Husk was surprised you remembered that comment from last night too, and even more so, brought it up. “Oh I can think of a few ways” he said as he leaned towards your face more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Flashback to Husk the night before after you left him at the bar)

Husk was in his room cursing under his breath, practicing the card trick for the 11th time. Or was it the 12th? Honestly he lost track three tries ago. It was well into the witching hour and Husk had a stayed up all night practicing different tricks for you. Ya know just in case you remember…..which he hopes you will.

[wolfbang97]

Day 1:

(Mutual) Masturbation

Lee Felix x fem! Reader | Warnings: friends to lovers, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, mentions of alcohol consumption, switch Felix and reader, let me know if I missed anything !!

Word count: 3k

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“Oh come on Changbin,stop showing off! You did your dare, you can stop now.” Han said with a snort as he watched his friend continue to do push-ups. The dare was only to do 30. He was well on 50 by now. “Ah, stop pretending like you aren’t enjoying it, I see you drooling over me, pervert” he teased, before sitting up, moving back to his spot in the circle you all had formed on the ground in the middle of the living room. “Am not!” Han huffed out with a scoff, throwing his empty red plastic cup over at changbins chest, before rolling his eyes. “Anyways changbin, it’s your turn, don’t hold the game up anymore.” Changbin looked around the circle, his eyes locking with Hyunjins. “Let’s spice this game up a bit no? We’re all mature adults, I think we can handle it” he teased, a lazy smirk finding its way into his lips. Yeah, the boys had all had a bit to drink, you would admit you had too, but you were in no way drunk, only tipsy enough to be able to deal with the antics of all 8 boys.

“Truth or dare Hwang?” Changbin spoke, his smirk never leaving his lips as he stared at him, watching as Hyunjin fell deep in thought. “Hyung, this feels like a trap” he whined out, before sighing. “Truth”. Changbin thought for a moment, before sitting up a bit straighter. “Have you ever been caught jerking off?” He said, not once stuttering, trying to hold back his laughter as he watched the youngers face light up a soft pink. “Oh my god Felix, tell me why I agreed to come play this stupid game with you and your friends” you said with a laugh after hearing changbins question, clearly just joking around as you looked over at him. Felix gave you a toothy grin, before shrugging. “Mmm, I dunno, maybe it’s because you love me enough to deal with my childish friends” he said, wiggling his eyebrows down at you as he spoke. After a moment of processing what he said, you nodded with a chuckle. “Hm, guess that’s a possibility” you teased, chewing on your lip as you let your mind wander. You two had been friends for well over a year now, of course you’ve told each other you love each other, that was a given. A normal part of a friendship was getting comfortable enough with each other in that way. One thing that wasn’t a part of a normal friendship, was starting to mean those words in a less friendly way. When did these feelings start happening? You weren’t sure. All you knew now was that you loved him, and not necessarily just as a friend.From his toothy smile, to his deep laugh, you were head over heels for him,for your best friend. Sometimes you wondered if you two would ever be more than friends, or even if he felt the same way, what would happen if he did-

“Y/n! You in there?” You were brought back to reality by the sound of his voice, and his hand waving Infront of your face. “Hm? Oh y-yeah yeah I’m here” you said, clearing your throat as you shook those thoughts from your head. “What’s up?” You spoke, your voice betraying you, breaking slightly. Felix chuckled as he looked over at all of the boys who were expectantly staring at you. “Truth or dare Y/n?” Han repeated, seeing as you hadn’t heard him in the first place, due to you being off in your own world. “Oh uhm..hm- truth, I don’t trust you guys.” You said, laughing as you leaned over onto Felix slightly to get more comfortable. “Oh ho ho-Picking truth isn’t gonna save you Y/n-ah.” He said with a mischievous grin, before speaking up again. “Have you ever tried mutual masturbation?” And with that, the room fell silent. You felt your cheeks heat up, and your lips part slightly, not having expected him to ask you something like that. “Ya! Han!- w-why would you ask her that?!” Felix stuttered out, almost seeming as flustered as you. “Aish, calm down felix, it’s just a game! What? Did you think I was gonna give her an easy truth? That’s no fun!” He said with a shrug. All eyes were on you, even felixs, although he seemed more affected than the others. “Uhm- i, i ha- havent, I havent done anything like that, haven’t had anyone watch me d- uh do that.” You stuttered out, fiddling with the hem of your sleep shorts as you laughed nervously. “Why is everyone so quiet! Somebody say something.” You saw bangchan part his lips, probably to try and let you know that it was ok, and nobody was judging, obviously, you all were close after all. But before he got the chance to speak, he was cut off by the sound of Felix clapping his hands together and clearing his throat. “Ok guys that’s enough for tonight don’t you think? We had fun, b-but it’s getting uh, getting late.”

“I was ready to go to bed hours ago” Minho mumbled, getting up, stretching slightly after he did so. “It’s been fun, but I’m gonna turn in” he said with a slight yawn, “night guys, night Y/n, thanks for coming over it was good to see you” he said, flashing you a small smile, before disappearing down the hallway as he headed to his room. Soon after that, everyone started to head off to their rooms, saying their good nights and thanking you for coming over. After most of the boys had left, you got up and moved to the couch, plopping yourself on one side before leaning back against the soft cushions as you reached for the remote. Felix got up to follow after you, but was stopped by a hand wrapping around his wrist. “Hey, you’re not as subtle as you think you are yknow. I saw how you looked at her when she answered during the game, you couldn’t take your eyes off of her.” Han said, before cocking a brow. “You two are really just friends?” Felix looked down at his feet, before slowly looking back up at his friend, nodding. “Yeah- cmon man you know that”. he mumbled with a faint blush, glancing over your way, smiling slightly as he saw you flipping through movies on Netflix. “Pfft- whatever you say man. You’re both totally whipped. And blind. And stupid and-“ “ya! Han I think it’s time you went to bed” he spoke, bringing his attention back to the other boy. “Alright, I’ll leave y’all alone, just don’t make a mess on the couch ok? Me and Seungmin paid a shit ton for it.” He said with a wink, before patting felix's shoulder and heading down the hall to head to bed. “It’s not like that!!” He called out, his face flushing a deep red for what felt like the millionth time that night, before turning to face you.

“Anything you wanna watch lix?” You asked with a hum, turning your head back to look at him, before gesturing for him to come over to the couch and sit down, and he did just that. he walked around the couch, plopping down on the opposite side, before humming as he tried to come up with a movie for you two to watch. “Uh, hm- m’not sure, you can put anything on” he said with a soft smile, before glancing over at you once again. “I don’t mind”. He said quietly, before glancing between you two, realizing how far apart you were. You seemed to notice as well, not hesitating to scoot closer. “Hope you don’t mind…I’m- I’m kinda cold” You were lying through your teeth. “Oh- course not, here” he lifted his arm up, stretching it out against the couch, inviting you to move closer, and obviously you did. You smiled, before curling into his side, resting your head on his chest as you played the first movie to pop up. You could care less about the movie if you were being honest, you were too focused on the boy next to you. He also could’ve cared less, but for a slightly different reason. Ever since the game of truth or dare,he found his mind wandering back to the end of it, when han asked you the question nobody was expecting. He found himself wondering what you would look like…all spread out In Front of him…showing him how you’d please yourself. “Fuck” he muttered under his breath, before chewing on his bottom lip- not even thinking before he spoke. “Would you ever do it?” He blurted out, keeping his eyes on the screen, not even being able to look at you as he asked. Hesitantly, you brought your head up off his chest slightly, to try and look at him- having no clue what he was talking about. “Hm? Do what lix?” You asked with a soft hum, sitting up so you were still against his side, but able to see him better. “You know…just.. wo-would you?” He mumbled, his voice falling quieter as he watched a look of realization fade onto your face. “Y-you don’t have to answer! I was just curious is all- I know that might seem a little weird I was just-“ you cut off his rambling by gently placing your hand on his thigh, trying to let him know it was alright. “No no it’s uhm..it’s fine” you said, inhaling shakily as your cheeks heated up once more. “I mean..yeah-yeah I think I would…” you spoke, trailing off as you saw the way felix was looking at you. You may have been oblivious, but in this moment, you saw everything clearly. Very. Clearly. “Have-have you ever tried it..?” You asked, looking over at him, slowly moving your hand off of his thigh as you watched him look back down at you. He simply shook his head, his adam's Apple bobbing as he took in your form. A white oversized t-shirt, which did almost nothing to hide your perky Nipples peeking through the thin material. And your shorts, so thin and flimsy, they rode up pretty high against your thighs, and it made his mind run laps. “No..always wanted to…find it so attractive” he said- before chewing on his bottom lip, looking at you with an almost pleading expression. You knew exactly what he was trying to say. “Do you wanna- do you wanna try it? With me?” Your voice was quiet, cautious even, trying to make sure you didn’t say anything that was going to make him uncomfortable. You wanted to make sure you were reading the whole situation right. Felix quickly nodded, confirming you were right. He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him, and it felt so good to finally know. “Fuck, please” he whispered out, his eyes falling to your lips. “Please what baby?” You whispered in return, slowly leaning closer to him, stopping when your lips were basically brushing against each others. The whimper that left his lips at the nickname went straight to your core. “Kiss me, please…wanted it for so long.” He said breathlessly, letting his eyes fall shut as you finally closed the gap between you two.

You wasted no time crawling onto his lap, moving your thighs so they were on either side of his own, so you were straddling him, not daring to let his lips off of your own as you did so. The kiss was desperate, and full of need. It was a clash of teeth and tongue. It was messy, but it was everything you had imagined, and more. When you pulled back, a small string of saliva connected your lips, which only spurred you on further. Panting softly, you opened your eyes, looking down to see Felix looking up at you, his pupils dilated, and his lips red and swollen. “Please..wanna see what you do when nobody’s watching..” he panted out, watching as you crawled off his lap, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch from him. “So cute…asking so politely” you teased, giggling a bit as you spread your legs slightly, bringing your index and middle finger down to rub teasingly up and down your clothed slit. Felix sat there, his lips parted, eyes hooded as he watched you play with yourself over your shorts. “Come on lixie…it’s not fair if I’m the only one having fun now is it? Wanna see you…” you spoke out, letting your head rest back against the arm of the sofa, lips parting even further as you watched Felix take his shirt off, and toss it to the floor. You had seen Felix shirtless countless times, but seeing him like this, in such an intimate state, really was a treat. Your eyes trailed all over his smooth porcelain skin, adoring the couple of odd freckles that were scattered around. “God..you’re so pretty lixie..I’m so lucky getting to see you like, this aren’t I?” You moaned out quietly, rolling your hips up slightly to meet your fingers. “Y/n-ah- dont let me be the only one who gets naked..mmh- wanna see y-you too”he groaned out, rubbing his hand up and down his hardening length through his sweats, eyes trailing over your body as he watched you take your shirt off, a whiny moan leaving his lips as his eyes raked over your bare chest, wanting nothing more than to wrap his lips around your nipples. “Fuck- so pretty- you’re so pretty- so perfect for me”. He couldn’t take it any more. Without wasting anymore time, he pulled his sweats the rest of the way off, letting his hardened length spring up and rest against his stomach. He brought his hand up to his mouth, licking his palm before bringing it back down to wrap around himself, starting to pump himself at a fast pace. “Look- at that..fuck, see what you do to me?” He grunted out, gesturing down to his hard cock, which was already weeping with precum.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. His hand moved quickly to pump himself, his tip red and angry. His movements were so frantic, so desperate- it got you so fucking wet. He was like this, all for you. You brought both hands down, pulling your sleep shorts off, along with your panties, before spreading your legs even further, trying to show Felix as much as you could. You brought your hand back down, quickly rubbing at your clit in circles with your index and middle finger, rolling your hips up to meet your wrist, desperately trying to get off. Felix panted softly, his hand not slowing down as he spoke. “M’so close doll, so-so close..think you can take a couple fingers for me? Fill up that pretty little cunt of yours?” You nodded quickly, wanting to do anything and everything to have him feeling as good as you did. Bringing your hand a little lower, you slipped one finger into your tight hole, fucking it into yourself at the same pace that Felix was pumping himself to. One felt good, but it quickly became insufficient. You added another finger, whimpering out as you hit your g spot. Felix didn’t want to cum before you, no way. He was going to make sure you came at the same time as him, or even before him. “M’ Y/n- baby, you can go faster for me, yeah? Make yourself feel so good for me?”You felt yourself clench around your fingers at his words, nodding as you sped up your fingers. “F-Felix” you moaned out, throwing your head back as you bucked your hips up desperately into the air, “m’gonna Cum-please please please” at this point you didn’t even know what you were begging for, but you didn’t care- you were feeling too good. You took your fingers out of yourself, bringing them back up to rub circles into your swollen clit quickly, pushing yourself over the edge, as you came with a loud cry of felixs name. Not long after, Felix felt the familiar coil in his stomach burst, white ribbons of his release painting his stomach and even parts of the couch, broken moans and whimpers leaving his lips as he continued to fuck up into his hand, riding out his high, even as his thighs started to shake.

Felix shut his eyes, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath. You had been doing the same, seeming to recover a bit quicker than Felix. You slowly made your way over to his side of the couch, curling back into his side,resting your head against his slightly sweaty chest. You two sat in a comfortable silence for awhile, before he decided to speak up. “you have no clue how long I’ve wanted to see you like that..” he whispered, opening his eyes as he leaned down to place a kiss to your forehead. “I-I wouldn’t just do this with anyone yknow…just..” you cut him off, smiling dorkily as you stared up at him in awe. “Me neither” you said, humming as you pulled the blanket off of the back of the couch to cover the two of you. “Just, get some rest lixie mkay? We’ll talk about what this means in the morning.” You whisper, placing a soft kiss against his jaw before shutting your eyes. “Night Felix, love you” you whisper, smiling dorkily as he mumbled a sleepy “love you too”.

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[imagineaworld]

hungry eyes | b.b

part one

pairing : dadsbestfriend!bucky x reader, neighbour!bucky

word count : 1k

summary : your dads best friend bucky is your neighbour and your bedroom faces his

warnings : 18+, undefined but significant age gap (reader is of drinking age), masturbation (fem & m implied), exhibitionism(?)

a/n : only a teensy bit of smut in this part, part two will be more smutty hehe

Being home for the summer meant one thing: Friday night dinners with your dad's best friend, Bucky, who also happened to be your very hot next-door neighbour.

Since you moved out for college, your dad converted your old bedroom into his office, meaning you slept in the guest room whenever you came to visit. The only problem with this was that the guest room faced Bucky's bedroom. This made for some pretty awkward encounters over your summer stays.

On more than one occasion, you’d opened your curtains in the morning to Bucky wandering about his room, shirtless with loose sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Or his lower body wrapped in a towel, hair damp and skin wet. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander across his sculpted body, appreciating his bulging biceps and chiselled abs.

Also more than once, he’d catch your eye, and you had to swiftly avert your eyes and pray he didn’t realise you were staring at his half-naked body, a total invasion of privacy.

Every Friday night, Bucky would join you and your parents for dinner, usually staying late seeing as he only lived next door. Much like many family traditions, you weren't exactly sure when this became a thing.

In preparation for him to come over tonight, your mother told you to put on something a bit nicer than the oversized t-shirt and leggings you were currently wearing. So you went upstairs and changed into a skirt and tank top because even though it was the evening, it was still hot from the sun beaming down all day long.

Bucky arrived at around six pm, letting himself into the house as he often did, announcing his arrival with a “smells good!”. He came into the kitchen, where your mother was cooking, your dad was preparing the cutlery and plates and you were making drinks. . “What can I get for you?” You asked Bucky

“Wouldn’t say no to a glass of wine,” he replied.

The wine was kept in the cellar, so your mother went to grab a bottle of red while your dad went to set the table, leaving you alone with Bucky.

While you stirred the food as per your mother’s request while she fetched the wine, Bucky came up behind you, pressing his body into yours.

"Nice bra,” he said.

Your cheeks heated, “What?”

"You really ought to shut your curtains when you change, doll.”

You hadn’t even noticed him watching while you changed. “Maybe I leave them open on purpose,” you challenged.

"So you can watch me, hm?” he said gruffly into your ear. “You think I don’t catch you staring at me?”

Before you could respond, footsteps coming up from the cellar alerted you both that someone was coming. Bucky stepped away from you, acting as though that interaction had never happened.

You felt flustered for the rest of the evening, aroused even, by the thought of Bucky watching you the way you watched him.

All through dinner, all you could think about was Bucky. what else had he seen you do? You didn’t want to admit it but sometimes you hoped he was watching you when you changed, when you danced around your room in very little clothing.

It didn’t help that he was sat right beside you, playing footsie with you under the table and rubbing his denim-clad thigh against your bare one. His large hand even brushed your upper thigh occasionally, sending shockwaves through your body.

But every time you glanced at him, he was looking at his food, or at one of your parents, seemingly giving them his full attention as though he wasn’t even aware of his behaviour under the table.

After the meal, Bucky would help you all clean up. tonight, you couldn’t help but notice how close he kept getting to you, his arm grazing yours, his hand caressing your arm or lower back as he manoeuvred around you.  Every touch set your skin on fire, the ache between your legs growing stronger as the evening went on.

You joined your parents and Bucky in the living room for drinks after dinner now that you were old enough to drink. As evening turned into night and one bottle of wine turned into two (or three), you found your arousal impossible to ignore. Tipsy meant one thing for you: horny.

It didn't help that Bucky was practically undressing you with his eyes, right in front of your parents. They didn't seem to notice.

"I'm off to bed," you announced, standing up as the intensity of Bucky's stare getting the better of you.

"I should head back anyway," Bucky said, following suit. "Let you all enjoy the rest of your night."

You bid everyone good night and hurried up to your room. The curtains were still open. You left them open as you switched your lamp on and flopped onto your bed.

As you laid there, you started to rub little circles around your clit through your underwear. You could feel how wet you were from earlier, how desperate for release you were.

You tugged your underwear down to your ankles and reached into your bedside drawer for your vibrator. You noticed out of the corner of your eye Bucky's bedroom light turn on. You took a peek through your window. His curtains were open. Your heart raced at what you were about to do.

Once the vibrator made contact with your sensitive mound, all your nerves disappeared. No other thoughts filled your mind except pleasure. You were oblivious to the man watching you through the window.

Bucky's eyes roamed up your spread legs, lingering on your fully visible pussy. His trousers tented as he watched your head fall back in pleasure, your fingers working with the vibrator to reach your climax.

His cock strained against the fabric of his clothes as he continued to watch, lust in his hungry eyes. He palmed himself through his trousers, hoping to relieve some tension. As you reached your climax, his cock twitched at the sight of you coming undone.

He wanted to hear your pants and moans. He wished your fingers were his, to feel your arousal dripping on them. He wanted to hear you call out his name as you came. For tonight, his own hand would have to do.

Once you had finally relieved yourself, you got up from your bed. You smirked at Bucky through the window before shutting the curtains.

[uvobreakmylegs]

Detour

I’m excited that it’s fall but i’m also sad that i won’t be able to swim anymore

Warnings: death, graphic depictions of violence, creepy behavior, groping, mentions of smut, kidnapping

The two guys at the gas station check out counter had been there when Phinks had first walked through the sliding glass doors, and they were still there when he approached the check out himself, having only dropped in to grab another pack of beer. The gas station clerk seemed annoyed while the two guys were pulling their pockets inside out, evidently in search of any spare change that may have been hiding on their persons. There was a sad pile of jenny and some change sitting in front of the clerk while she waited for them impatiently, and she seemed ready to push all of the money back towards them as it became more and more likely that these two didn't have enough cash for the assortment of alcohol and junk food that also sat on the counter.

Any other time Phinks would've been annoyed by the situation. But seeing as he didn't have anywhere to be, he found that he didn't really care all that much. The troupe likely wouldn't meet back up for some time which left his schedule quite open, and he had found it difficult to find something to occupy his time with while he waited for the boss to bring everyone together again.

Phinks had decided that a road trip was a decent way to pass the time. It was something he'd never really done before and so far it was easing his boredom as he had hoped it would. There was no real time limit he had set on himself or any destination that he had in mind. He'd just keep doing whatever he felt like until the novelty of the trip wore off and then go home.

“Would you like to take a few items off?”

The tired voice of the clerk cut through his thoughts, and Phinks found that there had been no progress with the two in front of him.

“No no, we need all of it,” one of the men, a redhead, insisted, “we just, uh....”

Trailing off, the man glanced over to Phinks, who was still waiting with his single pack of beer. Then the man looked over to his companion and then back to the items on the counter.

Phinks could already sense what the man was going to ask of him before he spoke out.

“Hey man,” the guy said to Phinks, “I know it sounds bad, but do you think you could spot me on this? I'm bringing this stuff back for my party. We ran out of some stuff way quicker than we expected. Can't let people down, y'know?”

The redhead started telling him how much more they needed until the clerk interrupted him to tell him off for harassing other customers for money. A mini argument started between the two, with the man insisting that he wasn't harassing anyone and the clerk disagreeing with him. The man's friend joined in shortly after and it was quickly turning into a mess.

What obnoxious fucking people.

If he was in more of a bad mood he'd have probably snapped the necks of all of them. The presence of cameras stopped him from doing that, however, as it would just be too much of a pain to go to the back and destroy the footage after. Still, even though he didn't have anywhere to be, it didn't mean that he wanted to waste his time listening to people bicker. The easiest way out of this was to just give them the jenny so they'd all shut up.

After pulling out his wallet, Phinks slid the jenny across the counter.

That shut the three of them up, and the two men were quick to express their gratitude while the clerk just looked tired.

“Thank you so, so much, man,” the redhead continued after they collected their bagged items.

“Mm-hm.”

Phinks was only half-paying attention to him as he waited for the clerk to scan the beer so he could hand her the jenny owed. That transaction went much quicker and Phinks was soon making his way to the exit.

The two men seemed to be waiting on him, though.

“Hey, since you helped us out, you wanna come to my party?” the redhead asked.

Normally his automatic response would've been to give him a flat “no”. But in this instance Phinks just shrugged.

That seemed to give the redhead hope, and he began listing the reasons why Phinks should follow them back, like his “cool house”, hot women and great beer.

Given the especially cheap brand of beer Phinks had largely paid for, he had a hard time believing that last point. He also wasn't quite sure why this guy was so insistent on getting him to come along. Was it really just because Phinks had bothered to help them out?

“Name's Stu by the way. Back there is Billy,” the redhead told him, sticking out his arm to shake hands. When Phinks didn't do the same, Stu seemed a bit dejected, yet even that didn't make him back down from inviting Phinks.

“So how 'bout it, man? You wanna come?”

“.... I'll think about it,” he told him.

“Okay, but do it fast man. My place isn't that far from here.”

Phinks nodded, and Stu ran off to the car where his friend was waiting. The other guy didn't seem as keen on Phinks as the redhead had, regarding the blonde with suspicion. Phinks could hear him saying something as the two entered the car. Stu seemed to brush him off, and then their car doors closed and Phinks couldn't hear anything else.

The two ended up pulling out of the parking lot before he did, and Phinks found himself following them as they all made the same turn onto the highway.

He still had no real urge to go to some random guy's party, especially when he found him to be pretty annoying. And if it was a party filled with the friends of someone like that, he'd probably get irritated with all of them pretty quick. Better to just ignore them and be on his way.

Although the thought of just driving aimlessly through the night wasn't all that attractive, either. He'd done that several times now, and the feeling of being the only person in the world while he drove on the empty highway had lost its touch by now.

The car in front of him veered off the highway to get onto a side road.

After a few seconds, Phinks did the same, just thinking to himself 'why not?'. It would be something different, a little detour on a trip that was meant to be a distraction, and if it ended up being something that he didn't want to bother with, then he could just leave.

Although the noise level in the house wasn't quiet, it was nowhere near ear-shatteringly loud as Phinks may have expected. At least it had that in it's favor. Other than that, it was a stereotypical frat house party, with everyone talking and drinking as they got more and more shitfaced.

The two who brought him here vanished into the kitchen, and Phinks began to make his way around the house, sipping one of the cans of beer he had bought for himself since he had no interest in the shit the host had him pay for. A girl in one of the upstairs rooms noticed the beer in his hand and begged him to share with her, even going as far as to tug on the sleeve of his jacket when he told her no. He ended up pushing her away, and though he had tried to use as little force as possible, his strength combined with her tipsiness caused her to stumble back into a wall. She was still whining about him when he walked back down the stairs, going on about how mean he was.

He thought he'd been pretty nice to her, all things considered.

It didn't take long for Phinks to lose interest in this particular distraction. Not that he'd been expecting much, but after going around the house and not even seeing anything that might be worth stealing, he figured it'd be best to leave soon. With his short temper being one of his vices, he didn't want to deal with what would happen if some drunk got on his nerves and he smashed them into the wall.

With the sights, sounds and smells became grating to him and seeing no reason to stay any longer, Phinks went about trying to find an exit. Attempting to get out the same way he came in was put to a stop when he saw how congested the front entrance had become. He could've easily pushed past all of them, but since that would likely draw a fair amount of attention, maybe it'd be a better idea to find a different way out. Phinks wandered into the kitchen, walking by Stu who tried to talk to him. A patio door leading to the backyard caught his eye and he ignored the party's host as he walked by several people to get to it.

The cool air outside felt refreshing and he let out a soft sigh as the patio door slowly swung closed. Claustrophobia generally wasn't something he had an issue with, but that seemed to change a little when he was faced with a house full of drunken strangers who didn't understand the meaning of personal space. Another nice thing was the fact that no one else seemed to be out here. He didn't think it was that cold out, but it worked just fine if the people inside thought otherwise.

He stood on a deck with an assortment of patio furniture that sat in front of an in ground pool, and when he looked to the side, he saw the gate within the fencing that surrounded the backyard.

That was his way out, then.

With no more reason to stick around, he was about to head out and back to his car-

But he paused when he heard the sound of splashing water, and he looked back to the pool.

So he wasn't the only person out here.

Some of the patio furniture had blocked you from his sight so he hadn't noticed you at first, but you were now swimming out into the center of the pool and impossible to miss. It was pretty late in the year for swimming, wasn't it? Yet you seemed to be content with yourself despite the temperature and lack of company, swimming around the pool like you owned it. Maybe you did; he wasn't sure what your relation was to the party host.

Then your eyes met, and you smiled as you greeted him.

“Hello.”

“... Hey.”

He hadn't come out to look for company. He was looking to leave.

Yet something about this situation, about you, intrigued him, and Phinks walked forward, continuing with “isn't it a little late in the season for swimming?”

“That's what everyone seems to think,” you said, “it's going to be drained tomorrow, so I wanted to swim one more time before that. It's the last chance I'll get for this year.”

“No public pools around here?” he asked.

“I don't really like public pools,” you told him, laughing a little bit as you continued “the ones around here are never clean, and I don't wanna swim around in nasty water.”

Phinks couldn't say if he really had an opinion one way or the other. He tried to avoid situations where he'd need to be shirtless in public, as the spider with the number 5 on his ribs would've been a dead giveaway for anyone who understood it's meaning. He just shrugged at you as he said “fair enough.”

Phinks now stood at the edge of the pool while you swam up to the edge.

“I don't think I've seen you before. You new around here?” you asked him.

“No. Just passing through. Helped out the host at the gas station and he invited me as thanks,” Phinks explained, “I was expecting this to be taking place at some shitty apartment; didn't think a guy like that owned a house.”

“He doesn't, it belongs to his older brother Jed. Stu just lives with him,” you responded.

“Ah.”

That made a bit more sense to him. Since he hadn't been able to buy beer from a gas station on his own, it didn't seem likely that the guy would've had his own house. So he was just leeching off of his brother.

Despite being ready to leave just minutes earlier, he found that he now had a reason to want to stay here longer. But standing and talking to you was getting a little awkward, so Phinks sat himself down on the concrete next to the pool. So far you weren't annoying compared to some of the others. And despite being by yourself beforehand, you seemed pretty open to talking with him, resting your arms on the edge of the pool.

“You friends with them, then?”

“Jed is in a few of my classes, so I'm friends with him. Not Stu, though. He's kind of an asshole. Likes to play a lot of stupid pranks.”

You rested your chin in your hand as you thought back.

“He's destroyed two of my phones so far, both times by dumping water on me,” you said, “although I guess he did repay me for both, but it's still such a hassle to go through.”

“You're nicer than I am. If some guy like that fucked up my phone I'd kill him.”

You laughed at him, not taking his words seriously.

“You seem nice enough. You helped him out, right?”

“Only because it was the fastest way to get outta there. Stupid bastard started an argument with the clerk.”

“Yeah. That sounds like something he'd do,” you said, tiredness lacing your voice.

A cheer then sounded from inside the house, and though the doors and windows were closed, it was loud enough that the both of you could hear it from outside.

“Things must be ramping up in there,” you commented.

“Guess so,” Phinks said, taking a swig of his drink after.

“Isn't it kinda weird that you're keeping to yourself with an event like this? Don't see the point in going out if you're going to avoid people,” he added.

“But isn't that what you're doing by coming out here?” you asked.

“Nah, I was getting ready to leave.”

“What stopped you?”

“I haven't done much out here beside sitting here talking to you. What do you think?”

You seemed a bit taken aback and a little embarrassed as you realized the reason, but gave him a small smile.

“Oh wow. Are you saying I managed to be charming enough to keep a guy from leaving?” you asked him.

“No. You're just not as annoying as the others I've met tonight.”

Your expression was rather blank as you took in that information.

“..... I'll take that as a compliment, then,” you said, “so what do you do?”

“What do I do?”

“For a job, or just anything in general.”

“I do a couple odd jobs here and there, I guess,” he answered, “every once in a while a bigger opportunity comes up, and I just do whatever I need to.”

It was an oversimplification of his criminal activities, and he hoped that he'd been vague enough without sounding suspicious.

It appeared that he had as you didn't seem to think it was strange.

“You mentioned earlier that you were just passing through. Are you on your way to a job or something?”

“Nah. I'm currently off-duty. And I had a lot of time to kill, so I decided to take a road trip.”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” you said, “I work on campus, so I don't really get to do vacations for now. Can't remember the last time I went on one.”

“Job at least worth it?”

“Kind of? Although the other week I needed to go through something stupid.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I got screamed at by a lady.”

Your tone made it seem like that was something happened on a regular basis.

“For what?” he asked.

“Something with her daughter's textbooks. She ordered one that she didn't need on accident but didn't want to admit that she made a mistake, so she just let her mother yell at me for forty minutes and claim that we were the ones who fucked up.”

You sighed a little after the explanation. Evidently that situation still made you frustrated.

“.... Did she apologize after?” Phinks asked.

With a slightly wistful smile, you shook your head as you said “people like that don't apologize.”

“Sounds rough.”

It went without saying that Phinks wouldn't have tolerated anything like that. If it had been him he'd have killed them both and tossed their bodies in the trash. But he kept that rather violent thought to himself.

“Sorry you needed to deal with that,” he added.

“It's okay. It's little things that keep you going,” you said, “I've been looking forward to swimming for a while, so I'm pretty happy right now. Although I guess I'm kinda doing a job right now.”

“How so?”

“Jed's at his job right now, and since he doesn't trust Stu, he asked me to make sure nothing happens to the pool. The last time Stu had a party there was a bunch of trash in it the next morning, and it was a pain to clean up. So in exchange for using the pool, I have full permission to snitch on anyone who tosses anything.”

“Yeah? What's snitching gonna do?”

“Jed's a scary guy. Nobody wants to make him mad.”

If Phinks had felt like being more of an asshole, and if you'd been unpleasant during your conversation with him, he probably would've taken his half-finished beer can and thrown it into the pool just to upset you and also to see if your friend was as scary as you were making him out to be.

But so far he'd been enjoying himself, so as fun as that thought might have been, he decided against it.

You pulled one of your arms off of the rim and back into the water. Evidently you were getting cold, but you held on to the edge to continue speaking to him.

“So how long have you been on your trip?” you asked.

“A few weeks.”

“A few weeks? You must have been all over the place, then. Did you go anywhere in particular?”

“Not really,” Phinks answered, “didn't have any real plan when I set out. Just drove to wherever I thought would be interesting.”

“That's kinda cool,” you said, “must be nice to be able to go wherever you want without any real plan.”

“You can't?”

“Nope. Classes and work means I can't just run off whenever I feel like it.”

“Too busy getting screamed at?” he asked jokingly.

“Yeah, something like that,” you answered, laughing a little after.

You pulled your other arm back underwater and just kept a hand on the side of the wall.

“Cold?” he asked.

“A little.”

“Probably why most people aren't swimming this late.”

“I don't care; it's worth it,” you said, “honestly, the thought of being able to swim was what kept me going this week.”

That.... Was a little bit sad, Phinks thought to himself. That all you had to look forward to at the end of the week was a few hours to swim by yourself in the cold. There were much sadder circumstances in the world – he was certain that anyone from Meteor City would be more than happy to switch places with you – but your life must have felt empty. Although Phinks was technically in the same boat at the moment, at least being with the troupe gave him purpose. What did you have besides a shitty job and presumably a fair amount of college debt? Just the 'little things' to keep you going?

Maybe he was presuming too much; he'd only just met you after all. But it bothered him regardless.

“What are your plans for after college?” he asked.

You seemed a bit startled, and you looked away from him for the first time.

“Not really sure, actually. I'm still undecided on my major,” you admitted, “I need to figure out soon, though. I'm going to run out of the basic coursework that I need to get through, and my family is getting mad that I haven't made a decision yet.”

So you didn't have any direction and were being pressured by others. Still not the saddest circumstance ever, but if it had been him, Phinks was certain he'd have been miserable.

You clearly didn't want to keep going on about that particular subject, as you began to ask him questions about his trip, wanting to know where exactly he had been so far and how much longer he planned to drive for. The change in topics was obvious, but he decided to go along with it.

As the night grew darker while the two of you talked, he decided that he liked you. You could hold a decent conversation, even if the things you two talked about weren't all that meaningful.

You were pretty cute, too.

The party behind him still seemed to be going strong, but it was largely going ignored by you both, in part by the fact that you were still the only ones outside.

Your face lit up as a thought came to mind.

“You should come in!” you told him.

“No thanks.”

“Come on! It's really nice!”

You grabbed at his free hand, tugging on his arm lightly as you tried to encourage him to get into the pool.

“If you get my suit wet I'll drown you,” Phinks said told you.

You giggled, once more not taking him seriously. Though he was only half-serious about it at this point.

“Then take it off and come in,” you insisted.

“I don't have a swimsuit.”

“That doesn't stop most people.

“Good to know,” he said flatly.

Though you'd stopped tugging on his arm, both of your hands remained on his wrist as you looked up at him.

“Can you not swim?” you asked.

“I can swim fine,” he said, “I just don't feel like it right now.”

You seemed a bit disappointed, but you had yet to let go of his wrist.

“Should you really be that surprised with the temperature being what it is?” he asked you.

“It isn't that bad. And the pool is heated,” you insisted, “didn't think a bit of chill would scare off the most interesting person at this party, though.”

The corner of his lips curled a bit at that. He wasn't one for meaningless flattery, but he didn't mind hearing you say things like that.

“Is that why you're not letting go of me?”

“You don't seem to be doing much to shake me off.”

“I could if I wanted to.”

“So you don't want to?”

You were teasing him. And while he could tease you back, he went for a different approach.

He yanked his wrist out of your grip and grabbed your own wrist just as fast, and lifted you up until you were eye level with him. To say you were flustered by the action would've been an understatement, and your free hand grasped at the arm that held you up to lessen the weight on the arm that he had trapped.

With you partially out of the water, Phinks allowed his eyes to travel over your form, following the trails of water that dripped down your skin and imagining exactly what you looked like under that swimsuit. His grin got wider when he saw your body reacting to the cooler temperature and the way your nipples showed through the material. It hadn't been on his mind when he first approached you, but after spending time with you he found himself liking the idea of fooling around with you. Probably not in the house, and he doubted you would want to do anything in the pool due to that friend of yours you had mentioned. Maybe there was some dark corner around here where he could take you to do what he wanted.

You were squirming a little, trying to free yourself from his grip.

“It's cold,” you whined.

“Yep,” was his reply.

“Come on, let go. I'm only in a swimsuit.”

“You weren't letting me go,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I didn't pull you into the water.”

“Because you're too weak to do that.”

“That's not fair!”

“Don't think this is a situation where fairness matters, sweetheart.”

With that he let you go, and you dropped back down into the pool. You pushed away from the wall after, giving him a slightly sour look.

“Problem?” he asked.

“It's cold,” you repeated.

He just smirked.

“You're gonna need to deal with it at some point,” he told you.

“Yeah, but I wasn't ready for it then!”

You had to have noticed the way he looked at you, right? There was no way you were so oblivious to have not seen how he had blatantly looked you over. Yet you weren't mentioning it.

By now you were more at the center of the pool, pointedly out of his range.

“You done talking?” Phinks asked.

“No, but I don't want you pulling me out again.”

Then you looked away like you were embarrassed.

It clicked for him. You must have liked it, but you were too shy to say anything about it.

Your reluctance was cute, though Phinks knew he'd get tired of that game pretty fast.

“Come back over,” he told you.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

You shook your head.

“You're going to do that again, right?” you asked.

“Maybe.”

“Then no. I don't wanna get out yet.”

“How long are you gonna stay in there?”

“Until I feel like getting out.”

“And if I want you out of there now?”

“Then you'd have to come in and get me.”

…. Oh

That's what it was.

A ploy by you to get him into the pool.

That's what you had to mean by those words, right?

“.... What the hell,” he said to himself as he stood.

It got your attention when he began to remove his clothing, throwing them over to a few neatly folded articles of clothing that sat next to a bag on the patio, which he assumed belonged to you. You were watching him closely, and he could sense a growing interest in you when he removed his shirt. Your eyes lingered a little when you caught sight of his spider tattoo, but there was no hint that you recognized what it meant, which was preferable.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked.

“You were looking at me earlier,” you answered defensively, “you're not allowed to get mad when I do the same.”

“Didn't say I was mad.”

You acknowledging the way he had looked at you then just reaffirmed in his head that you hadn't minded, and after stripping down to his boxers, Phinks jumped in. The water felt just as nice as you had said, but he didn't take much time to focus on it as he was quick to approach you. Within moments, he had wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in close, lifting you a little so you were at eye level with him. You seemed flustered again, but you didn't make any move to get away, and were resting your hands on his chest.

“I don't think you told me your name,” you whispered to him.

“Phinks.”

“Phinks,” you repeated, smiling afterwards, “I like it. It's cool.”

“Thanks,” he replied, “and how 'bout you?”

You gave him your name, which he also repeated to himself.

“Not as cool as 'Phinks', I guess,” you said.

“It suits you,” he said.

You smiled at him, then shifted slightly in his grip.

“Are you just gonna keep holding me?”

“You said I needed to come in and get you.”

“And what did you want to 'get' me for?”

Despite the question, you clearly had an idea of what Phinks was after as you began to move in closer to him. Phinks did the same, and slowly, the gap between the two of you was closed as your lips met together in a kiss.

With the heavy scent of pool chemicals that surrounded you two, it was hard to smell much else, but your lips were soft against his. The kiss was a bit tame for his liking, but he let you do what you wanted for now as you readjusted your arms so they were wrapped around his neck.

One of his hands slid down your back to reach down and squeeze your ass, and you gasped into the kiss. He slipped his tongue into your mouth for a brief moment before you pulled away, your hand over your mouth as you looked away in embarrassment.

“I'm not sure we should do much more here,” you said, glancing up at the house behind him, “there are people watching. I'm not into that.”

“Where do you wanna go?” he asked. It didn't surprise him much that you two might have attracted an audience, and when he heard the door to the patio open from behind him, he chose to ignore it.

“I don't think we'll get much privacy here, so how about my place?” you asked.

“Do you usually bring home strangers?”

“Only the really cool ones.”

He grinned.

You were leaning in to kiss him again when you suddenly froze and turned your attention to something behind Phinks.

“Don't do that!” you yelled.

Phinks turned his head just in time to see his and your clothes land in the water, with the guy who'd invited him – Stu, he remembered – pointing and laughing after having thrown them. The annoying woman from earlier, the one who had whined at him for his can of beer, was also there, standing behind Stu and running off with him towards the gate in the fence.

Phinks saw red.

He let you go and swiftly exited the pool, following after the two even as the chill of the night air nipped at his skin. He barely felt it, and he didn't give a shit that he was running around barefoot either. All of his focus was on catching up to those two assholes who'd dumped his clothes in the pool.

He was angry enough that he didn't notice the sound of feet following after him.

The two perpetrators were in an alleyway between two rows of houses, drunkenly laughing their asses off. Their demeanor didn't change when Phinks caught up to them. The woman actually began to laugh harder, probably because Phinks was still wearing only his boxers.

Stu was trying to contain himself a bit, and put his hands up as an offering of peace.

“Hey man, it wasn't anything personal. Just a prank,” he said, “you can use the dryer, and I'll lend you some clothes-”

His sentence was cut off when Phinks grabbed both sides of his head and twisted it completely around, the cracking of his broken neck ringing out in the empty alley.

The sight of Stu falling to the ground with his head facing the wrong way had the woman instantly sober up, and she looked to Phinks as she opened her mouth to scream.

Barely a whisper of sound was able to escape as he did the same thing to her, and now Phinks was standing half-naked in an alley with two dead bodies.

“Obnoxious fucking people,” he muttered to himself.

Then there was noise that came from behind him.

Phinks turned and saw the other guy who'd been at the gas station on the ground, his arms barely supporting himself as his eyes were wide at the sight of his friends dead before him.

His eyes widened even further when he spotted the spider on Phinks' ribs, clearly recognizing what it meant as he whispered “oh my god.”

Make that three bodies, Phinks thought to himself as he rushed forward to snap his neck as well.

Three bodies that he needed to get rid of. If anyone else from the party came out here and found them, the police would be called immediately. He had no intentions of staying here any longer, but it'd be best to put a bit of distance between himself and the crime scene before the police were inevitably called.

He was dragging the other guy by his ankles and in the process of collecting the woman's body when someone walked out into the alley through one of the other entrances. An older woman, who was definitely not from the party and had come from another house, carrying a bag of trash walked out in front of Phinks, and like the guy right before, her eyes grew wide as she saw the sight of the dead before her.

She made a move to run back to her house, but Phinks picked up a pebble that he infused with nen and launched it at her head. It traveled through her skull and the fencing beside her, and blood sprayed out from the exit wound and splattered onto the fence as well as she fell to the ground.

This was turning into a goddamn mess, and after Phinks had thrown now four bodies over into a different backyard, he heard a voice calling out “mom?” from the direction that the woman with the trash bag had come from.

Fuck this. He needed to go.

When he returned to the backyard to retrieve his clothes, he found you on the patio. You were holding his jacket over the concrete, desperately trying to wring out the water that had soaked it completely. You were visibly shivering as you did so, with goosebumps running up your arms and your teeth chattering. He noticed his pants hanging off the fence that surrounded the patio, and while they weren't dry by any means, you had clearly done your best to get the water out of them. Meanwhile your own clothes laid in a soggy heap by your equally soaked bag.

You noticed him when he walked closer.

“I'm sorry,” you told him. You looked guilty for some reason.

“You didn't do it,” Phinks said, considerably calmer now.

“No. But I made a big deal about you getting in with me, and with Stu around I should've been paying attention. I'm really, really sorry.”

He was about to tell you to stop apologizing when he heard a shout coming from the direction of the alleyway.

Fuck. He forgot that he needed to leave.

Luckily you were the only one who noticed, as the rest of the party goers still had the doors and windows securely shut. He pulled on his pants and his sopping wet tank top, and the sensation of wearing those wet clothes was just as unpleasant as he had anticipated. At least his shoes were still dry.

You were still holding his jacket, looking confused as you looked off in the direction where you'd heard that voice. Phinks was about to just take it from you and leave, but when he looked you over again, he thought over the things you two had talked about, the things you had said and how you'd acted around him, and he came to a split second decision.

Grabbing your clothes and bag, he shoved them into your hands before he grabbed one of your arms and pulled you after him. You seemed startled, but you didn't question him as you were too surprised to think of anything to say. He led you out through the backyard and down to where he had parked his car, opening the passenger side door and pushing you inside. He then walked around to the driver's side, and within moments you both were speeding out of the neighborhood.

By the time he came to the highway there was a strong smell of pool chemicals that filled the car, and both of the front seats were slowly soaking up the excess water that dripped off of the two of you.

You seemed to be in a mild state of shock, as you had yet to say anything. You just sat in your still wet swimsuit looking rather confused while you still held onto the soaked clothing Phinks had forced onto you.

After a while you shuddered and finally spoke up.

“Do you think you could turn up the heat?” you asked him.

“Oh. Sure. Sorry.”

Phinks turned the heat up all the way, and after a few moments you seemed to relax a bit, though now you were glancing over at him while smiling nervously.

“Uh, so, there's a lot that I should probably be questioning,” you began, “but I'll start with if you knew why there was yelling?”

Should he lie? No, that might be weird if he pretended not to know.

“I punched that guy in the face. I think I broke his nose,” he told you, “that was likely his friend after he saw him.”

“Ah. Okay,” you said, “that's..... Not very good, but I think I get why you did that. You're gonna get charged with assault, though.”

Fat chance.

“I'll deal with that when I come to that,” he answered, “sorry if I put you in a tough position.”

“It's okay. Well, not really. But Stu's pranks have always been pretty bad and what he did was shitty, so I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Think you can forgive me?”

“... Yeah, I think so. Just promise you won't do anything like that again.”

“I promise.”

“Okay,” you said as you nodded, “so second question: where are we going?”

“.... Not sure. Didn't have much of a plan besides getting out of there and going back to what I was doing,” Phinks admitted.

“So you're just back to driving around going wherever?”

“Seems like it.”

“Why did you bring me along?” you asked.

“.... Didn't want that to be the last time I saw you,” he said.

“Oh.....”

His answer ended up making you flustered again, and while you did seem to be holding some reservations about him with his admission of violence and the fact that he really had just kidnapped you, he could see you rationalizing everything in your mind and convincing yourself that this wasn't all that bad.

It was preferable if you did that. It made taking you with him a lot easier.

“Luckily for me I don't work tomorrow,” you said, “and since the day after that is Sunday and the campus store isn't open then, I also have that day off. So I think it's okay if I drive around with you for a bit. Just get me back by Sunday night, alright?”

“Don't worry. I'll get you back safe and sound,” he told you, and you visibly relaxed at his words.

You were a little naive, a little too trusting. But that was fine. Phinks liked that about you.

“Okay so third question,” you announced as you looked down at the wet clothes in your lap, “what should we do about this?”

“Right. Let me pull over.”

He stopped the car beneath a streetlight, and you sat sideways on the passengers seat while you held the clothes out of the car and wrung the water out of them as best you could. Phinks took the opportunity to change after you handed him his jacket, and he threw the mostly damp clothes in the backseat.

Glancing over at you, he did appreciate how much your swimsuit showed off while you tried to dry out your own clothes. But while he liked the idea of you staying as you were for the rest of the trip, you probably wouldn't be as big of a fan of that. Going over to his trunk once more, he dug around through his bag before he found what he was looking for.

“I don't have anything that will fit you well,” Phinks said as he made his way over to you, “but this should cover you up.”

What he handed you was the long white robe he wore on occasion, usually for combat or missions.

You seemed a bit surprised when you saw it, but you accepted it gratefully. Your gaze went to the jeweled eye that hung near the neck of the garment, and he heard you mumble about it being pretty.

He wondered briefly what you might think of the snake headpiece he usually wore with it, but the time for that would come later as you were currently slipping his robe over your head.

“Thank you,” you told him again as you threw your clothing in the back as well.

Then your attention went to your bag, and you frowned.

“What's wrong?”

In response to his question, you tilted your bag to the side and water began to pour out of it.

“Ah.”

“How much do you wanna bet that my phone is dead?” you asked as you reached inside.

As was expected, your phone screen stayed black when you hit the power button, and you sighed.

“And that's phone number three that Stu has destroyed.”

“Don't worry. It won't happen again,” he told you.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

You tossed the now useless phone into your bag and looked back up to him as if to say “so what now?”

Phinks had an idea for that.

“Wanna go to a motel?”

“A motel? Wow, you sure know how to treat someone,” you said sarcastically.

“You really think I can get you into a nice hotel with you looking like that? You don't even have shoes,” he said.

“I didn't get a chance to grab them,” you responded, though you seemed to concede a bit.

“Could we stop somewhere tomorrow so I can get shoes or something?”

“I'll buy you a whole new wardrobe if that's what you want.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head and saying that you didn't need that.

Before too long, Phinks was back in the drivers seat while you watched the streetlights as the car passed them by, your fingers idly playing with the jewel on his robes as you did so. He had turned down the heat and turned on the radio, and though it still felt strange to be sitting in the wet seats, it wasn't bothering either of you as much anymore. The smell from the pool was mostly gone after driving a bit with the windows opened just a crack.

Except for the occasional car that drove in the opposite direction, you were the only ones on the highway.

“How far are you gonna drive?” you eventually asked.

He wanted to get out of the state at least. Phinks didn't want to deal with a confrontation with the law while also taking you along with him. He wanted to get as far as he could while you were still cooperative, and whenever you realized that there was no chance he'd be taking you back, he'd go to more extreme measures of keeping you with him. Your phone being dead was a good thing for him; you wouldn't be able to try and get help as easily.

“I think we've passed by three or four motels already,” you added, “was there something wrong with them?”

“No. Sorry. I got a bit distracted,” Phinks replied, “I've come to really like the highway at night. There's something soothing about it, I guess. Wanted to stay like this for a bit longer.”

You nodded in response and looked back out the window, your fingers still playing with the jeweled eye.

“Can I borrow your phone at some point tomorrow? I need to call someone just so everyone back home knows I'm okay. Don't want them to worry,” you said to him.

“Sure,” he said.

Arguing with you over that would seem strange. He'd just need to avoid that subject tomorrow.

He noticed when you yawned.

“Getting tired?” he asked.

“A little,” you said, laughing a little as you added, “this wasn't how I was expecting my night to go.”

“Same here.”

“I hope you decide to stop soon. I might not be up for it tonight if you're planning on continuing where we left off at the pool when we reach that motel.”

“That's fine. We'll have all day tomorrow, right?”

His words made you embarrassed again, and you shyly answered with a yes as you smiled to yourself.

So that was the plan, then. Drive as far as he could tonight, fuck your brains out tomorrow, then get away further before you figured things out. You would likely object, not liking the idea of being taken away from everything you'd ever known. But he was certain that after spending enough time with him, you'd prefer it. Your current life wasn't any good, but he was prepared for you to not understand that at first. And if he needed to tie you up and shove you into the trunk to keep you compliant, he could do that. Seemed like a pretty fool-proof plan.

You were yawning again.

“Get some sleep if you need to,” he said, “I'll wake you up when I find a place I like.”

You nodded. Soon after he saw you settling back into the seat and closing your eyes as you attempted to get some rest.

He liked the sight of you next to him, sitting in his clothes while you nodded off in his car. And when he turned his attention back to the empty highway, he was once again hit with the feeling like he was the only one in the world. A feeling that only came with seeing an area that was typically full of people seem completely abandoned.

But this time, though, he wasn't alone.

[33roda]

Kaeya X Dom!Reader <3

tags: tiddy sucking (m!receiving), butt fingering, (m!receiving), brat taming kinda, gn!reader I think !!

____________________________________

Yet another exhausting Abyss Order attack, finally over with.

It was a quite difficult one at that, having required a whole army of knights at the gates of Mondstadt, so Kaeya invited the team to a drink at Angel's Share, out of all places. Even after all the energy that used up, he's still in the mood for drinks?

Well, that didn't matter anyway, because either way, you would've been forced to go either by Kaeya or by Lisa. You sat quietly next to Kaeya, listening to him chat with the other knights.

"Ah, another success.. Of course, we couldn't have done it without our Honorary Knight here," he chatted, sounding as sarcastic as ever. "You truly are a new storm after all."

He rested his hand on your shoulder while holding up his third glass of sparkling wine of the night, chuckling at how Amber was already tipsy after one sip of beer. Jean held her up, furrowing her eyebrows tightly, looking for where Lisa went. Probably off to flirt with the new naive bartender. Everyone's enjoying their time here while she had to babysit Amber and Lisa?

"Of course, Y/N. It is truly an honor to celebrate this with our new Honorary Knight." she stumbled as she continued holding up Amber and wiping her drool with napkins, her slurring drowned out by the noises in the background. You let out a polite smile, showing your appreciation to everyone on the table.

"Thank you, Grand Master. It was a pleasure working with you today." The table was awkward. Too formal, too stiff, but Kaeya didn't seem to mind it, just smirking and slowly sipping on his wine. You almost started wondering and fantasizing about when it'd be time to leave, but as soon as you thought of that, you felt Kaeya's hand slide off your shoulder and started gently caressing your thighs. Ah, expected. Of course there had to be an ulterior motive to his invitation, not that you minded. Taking advantage of the loud, distracting chatter in the background, he ducked his head next to your ear just enough so you could feel his hot breath against it.

"You sure look bored, Y/N. Quite rude of you to not respect etiquette," he whispered against your ear and chuckled. "I have something more fun for you later. Meet me outside the bar once the rest leave."

Ha. Finally, something interesting this night. You had nothing to lose anyway, so why not entertain his request? his actions motivating you to just get the night over with, you try to be more friendly with Jean to lessen the tenseness in the air, her unaware of the touching and groping exchanged between you and Kaeya underneath the table.

Lisa would never seem to return, and Jean eventually got tired of the Outrider hiccuping and slurring on her words next to her, deciding it was best for everyone to just go home. Exchanging goodbyes to everyone, Kaeya escorted them outside, looking back and shooting you a wink and a smug smile before leaving the tavern. Oh what you'd do to wipe that smug smile off his face, and you'd be sure to do just that tonight. You started packing up your stuff, taking your sweet time with it, thinking about how you're keeping The Cavalry Captain waiting. You can already picture how he'll be squirming and begging to be touched.. What a pretty sight, you thought, as you exit the tavern door to be greeted with silence for a second; then the husky voice of a grumpy-looking Kaeya.

"Took ya long enough, Honorary Knight," he raised an eyebrow, waiting for an excuse or an apology, getting a figurative slap in the face when he got teasing instead.

"Oh, so sorry, Captain, did my touch make you so needy in there you couldn't wait for a few minutes?," you cooed, giving him as much of a smug smile as he was giving you earlier.

"Hm," he scoffed. Resistance? from a new knight like you? that's new. He was known to be irresistible, to both men and women, being all dolled up with his fancy fur and chains. At least he still has you in his hands, he thought.

Thank Barbatos the streets were empty ‒ if anyone saw you leading the Captain to your house in the dead of the night, the rumours would not sound pretty for either of you. But rumours were the least of your concerns, being in your room with Kaeya holding you against the wall and leaning down to whisper in your ear as you twirled his ponytail in your fingers from behind.

"Getting you here was easier than expected, Y/N," he taunted, "I'm starting to think you've wanted this for some time."

"In your dreams," you looked up at him. To be honest, he was a very attractive man - looking down at you with half lidded eyes and that smirk that never seemed to fade. He shot down to kiss you, but it was too early, you thought. He had to earn it. You grabbed his ponytail, forcing him to throw his head back and expose his pretty little neck to you. His eyes going wide as you started tracing circles on his exposed chest - now that was a sight to appreciate. Funny, he's the captain yet his skin felt smooth and silky against your calloused hands.. now you understand why he liked showing it off so bad. Switching hands to grab him by the face, you snickered, "It seems like you've been the one planning this, Sir Kaeya. Actually, how about you let me be your master tonight, hm?"

"You think it's that easy? Insulting of you, Y/N," you raised an eyebrow at the disobedience, even with your hands grabbing his cheeks, his words coming out slurred. Should've expected that from a smug fuck like Kaeya. "Prove yourself to me."

"You really are a brat. Not surprised, honey." you said, letting go of his cheeks and immediately diving into his chest to lick and suck at it, leaving it with red and purple bruises. Sliding your fingers across his wet chest and under his shirt, you flicked his nipple with your thumb before squeezing it, feeling him shudder standing in front of you. "What's wrong? can't handle it? need to lay down?" you didn't even let him finish before shoving him down into the bed, impressing him with your sudden strength. Giggling, you pinned his wrists down next to his head. "Just let me have my fun with those pretty tits of yours." Surprisingly, he didn't complain - instead, he just bit his lip and turned his head to the side, allowing himself to be touched. "Such a good boy, really,"

"Th-this is just a one time thing, Y/N, don't get your hopes up," he stuttered out between little gasps and squirms, "I promise you, I'll be stuffing you full tonigh- ngh!" he choked, feeling you move his shirt to the side and start lapping at his nipple. If he wasn't hard before, he sure as hell is now. Riling him up was easier than expected - although he'd never admit that. You continued nibbling at him, feeling his hardness underneath his pants on your stomach. Poor Kaeya, getting hard just from this?

"Sensitive, are we?" you commented between licks. "No wonder you love showing off your chest so much. Makes me think how you'd like showing the rest of you off?"

"You'd love to see that, huh?" he remained smug.

"Why yes, I would, Captain," you purred. You started unbuckling his belt and stripping him all the way down to his underwear, leaving so much more area for you to lick, kiss, and just ruin. "Such a pillow princess. Are you like this with everyone else?"

"N-no!" he exclaimed, looking insulted. "Just strip me already, Y/N." Honestly, it was pretty funny how he tried to mask his horniness, even with his dick as hard as ever under you, face flushed and breathing heavily.

"I'm not stripping you unless you call me your master. And if you strip yourself," you held up his chin with your fingers, "I'll just leave you here, naked and horny, with no pleasure at all. Your choice, Kaeya."

"Master.. please, please strip me - I need more, anything, please," he sounded like he was about to cry. How adorable, his pride crumbling right before him, all just so he could have your touch..

"Good boy."

You pulled down his tight blue underwear down to his ankles, freeing his oh-so-pretty cock. He was certainly impressive, but unfortunately, his dick would be useless to you tonight. "How pretty," you hummed, tracing every vein with your fingers, feeling every throb. "You want more, don't you? I want to hear you beg for more."

"More, please, I n-need you to touch me master, please," gasping, he tried rutting against your hand, rubbing himself on you, anything - but failing. "I want it so bad,"

Having the Cavalry Captain being your little bitch wasn't so bad after all. Laughing at his little whines and pathetic attempts to get off on your hand, you grabbed him and started pumping gently, watching his reactions in pure amusement. His usually striking eyes shut closed, eyebrows tight, his mouth wide open - it was all a sight to behold. Groans and whimpers filling the room, he continued trying to thrust harder into your hand, chasing his release. But baby, he had no idea the plan was entirely different than he thought.

He really thought it was just a bit of teasing, then you'd make him cum with your hands, or fuck you tight. But you stopped pumping him, leaving him whining and begging for more, a look of pitiful disappointment on his face. It almost made you feel bad.

"It's not gonna be that easy, pretty boy," you slapped his thighs, "legs up for me baby."

"H-huh?" he looked genuinely confused, still in a daze from the sudden disappearance of your hand on his cock. Not letting him waste any time, you lifted his legs all the way up by yourself.

"Can't even take orders?" you smacked his ass, making it jiggle and let out that filthy noise. You were impressed how loud it was, honestly. "What would the other knights think seeing you like this, Kaeya? maybe you want them to hear you get fucked? see you all spread out for your master?" Not even giving him a chance to respond, you shoved your fingers in his mouth, he could only hum little "mmphs" and nods in your direction. "I never knew our Captain would be such a slut," you watched in amusement as he coated your fingers in drool, looking up at you in desperation. "I'll give you exactly what you want." smiling at him, you rubbed your saliva-coated fingers against his hole for a few seconds before shoving a finger in to prep him. He wanted more, evidently, by the way he kept humping down against your finger with hesitant moans.

"Y-You're doing it all wrong," he slipped off your fingers with heavy breaths, "let me show you how it's done, master," You raised an eyebrow, and as soon as you were gonna grab him by his throat and punish him, he spread himself out even further with his hands, looking to get a reaction out of you. It was his first time doing this with someone else, but he's definitely fucked himself in front of a mirror before. Who wouldn't love to watch his body like that, anyway?

Shoving two fingers inside himself, he started looking for his spot, erratically humping the air looking for more stimulation, anything; but the most you'd do is stroke his thighs with a smile on your face, teasing him even further. He was obviously just trying to put on a show for you, make you watch him stretch himself out and look at him make the most erotic faces for you - he'd even make sure the whole of Mondstadt heard him get fucked, as if he wasn't gonna wear your hickeys like an award in front of the other knights tomorrow. Watching him fuck in and out of himself, listening to the filthy noises his ass made; you couldn't help but cross your legs a little. "Do you like it, master?" he whimpered.

"I know what you're doing, prince," you answered, "trying so hard to get more.. such a desperate bitch, don't you think?" he nodded in agreement. "Well, since you've been so good.." turning him over, you pushed his face down into the bed. He was already arching his back for you - his pretty hole all wet and ready to get fucked. "You'll still have to work for it, though," you laughed, hearing him groan in protest into the bed. Gently pushing your digits into him, you ordered, "Fuck yourself on my fingers, Kaeya."

Immediately obeying, he pushed himself back onto your fingers, dick flailing under him, sobbing and begging for you to just fuck him yourself - maybe if he obeyed for a little, you'd finally do it? "Such a good boy. And to think you wanted to fuck me?"

You wouldn't let go until you found his spot, curving your fingers towards his navel, making his legs give out from all the pleasure - the Captain was simply a doll in your hands to play with. Even when his legs gave out, only then would you finally fuck him yourself, his tears staining your bed alongside his cum. Fucking his spot even when your arms got tired, you had to make him cum again. His moans getting more and more high-pitched with every fuck into him, squirming and grinding his ass against you, he finally came again with a throaty moan filling the room. You pulled out of him and gave his ass a quick smack, letting him take his breath before turning over to face you. His cum all over his stomach and chest was a sight to remember, dick twitching, his face blushy and pretty lips open gasping.

Sliding your fingers across his chest, you picked up some of his cum and put it near his mouth, waiting for him to put his tongue out to lick it. He did just that, making eye contact with you, and even holding your wrist in place so he could lick it all up. "Good puppy."

He'll definitely be limping around the other knights tomorrow.. Not that he minded. He'll absolutely be teasing you again at the Knights of Favonious headquarters, anyway.

[bcdwhcre]

Can I request Levi getting a little drunk in the mess hall (maybe a party or something with everyone?!) and forgetting his relationship is a secret, causing everyone to be shocked when he accidentally kisses you or something? Ive just been thinking about this lately and youre my favourite Levi writer!!♥️ If you want more requests my brain is full of them!!!

“Drunken Thoughts,” Levi x Reader

Summary: Levi surprisingly gets drunk one night and reveals the dirty secret you two have🤭 aka secret relationship.

Warnings: alcohol intake incase anyone is triggered by that. ⚠️end of season 3 spoilersssss!!!!!!⚠️

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.

The week was stressful enough and after completing their mission on reclaiming wall Maria, the scouts had made it back. At first it felt wrong for them to celebrate so it had taken them until after the memorial of their fallen members for them to finally let loose and relax a bit.

They celebrated with the best food they could have and Hange had brought drinks, making sure everyone relaxed and had fun instead of being sad about what had happened and be more positive about the future of wall Maria.

Levi had expressed to you in private that he didn’t want to go and you felt bad, not wanting to really push the topic any longer but he ended up going anyways, only because Hange forced him.

You had kept your distance away from Levi almost the whole night, it pained you to do so but your relationship wasn’t out in the open yet and you didn’t want to reveal it any time soon.

Your eyes had glanced over at him a few times throughout the night, noticing the amount of alcohol he was consuming and it had worried you a bit.

You had only taken a few drinks, trying not to rush yourself but seeing Levi down drink after drink like it was nothing had you overthinking if there was something on his mind he was trying to forget, maybe the guilt of the death of most of the scout members or maybe Erwin’s death.

As the night went on for a few hours, most of the scouts had gone through enough drinks to be up, laughing and dancing around like crazy people but it was a nice sound hearing all of them laugh and be happy.

Connie and Jean had even got up, singing obnoxiously, making the scouts continue their laughter throughout the room.

Suddenly you felt a arm wrap around your shoulders, glancing up to see Levi as he pulled you into his body.

“Baby,” He whined, making your eyes widen and you had tried to hold his body up straight.

“I think you’re ready for bed.”

He giggled in your ear, making a smile appear on your face at the amount of giggling he was doing which was rare for him to do. He had stood up straight, grabbing your hands and dragged you towards the middle of the room.

“C’monnnn, dance with me.” He started to twirl you around, grabbing your hips and pulling your body to his in seconds.

Both of your chests were pressed against each other, his face inches away and you can smell the alcohol on his breath before he had tilted your chin up, pressing his lips on yours. It was a small sloppy kiss but it had made your heart flutter, making you completely forget about the scouts in the room.

The scouts started to whistle and laugh, making you realize what was happening and you pulled back from his mouth. Everyone’s eyes were on you and it made the embarrassment wash over you, making your cheeks turn a bright red.

Levi on the other hand was giggling his ass off, watching your reaction and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling your face into his chest, stroking your hair back.

“What’s so funny? I can kiss what’s mine whenever I want.” He said out loud, making the air get caught in your throat and you started to almost choke on it.

“What’s yours?!” Hange screamed from across the room and the more you sat there, the more embarrassing it had gotten.

“Hm yes, Y/N is mine.”

“Since when?”

“Since months ago.” Levi confidently said, making you shush him from saying anymore than what he just did now.

You listened to Levi argue with everyone, hiccuping every now and then along with a little fit of giggles. He was truly acting like a child and you finally pulled yourself back into reality and grabbed onto his hand.

“Alright, bed timeee!” You said, trying to drag him out the door and surpringly he had let you.

“I’m not tired!” He began to stumble around, making it that much harder for you to walk him out the door, practically holding him up.

You had ignored his words, trying to concentrate on taking him to his bedroom without falling considering you were pretty much tipsy yourself and you were trying to carry a complete drunk. Levi kept his arm around your shoulder, his hair was a mess and the random giggles made you question what was so funny inside his head?

Once you made it to his room, you opened it up and brought him inside. You set him on the bed, watching him flop down on his back and being the dramatic baby he is.

“Levi, sit up.” You mumbled, grabbing his arm to force him up and he whined louder, making your eyebrows furrow- it felt like you were being a parent.

“I’m just trying to take the suit off, you big baby.”

“I’m not a baby, you’re a baby. Actually- make that my baby.” He rambled, making you laugh while unbuttoning his white top.

“Is that so?” You mumbled, slipping his shirt off and suddenly he had caught on to what you were doing.

“Are you trying to get me naked?” He questioned you, his hooded eyes looking up at your face but you tried not to make eye contact.

“Only to get you in bed and comfortable.”

“I think you’re trying to seduce me.”

“Levi, shut up.” You laughed again, making him pout like a child and you combed your fingers through his hair.

You had finished taking off his clothes, leaving him in just his boxers before tugging the blankets back and forced him to get underneath. You tucked him in, looking down at him and the entire time his eyes were on you.

“You’re so pretty, lay with me- please?” Your heart began to race again, nodding you head as you took off the uncomfortable clothes you were wearing and settled in bed beside him.

He moved on his side to face you, his fingers moving up to run along your face before fully caressing it. Your thoughts ran wild and you couldn’t help but think about how much of a soft clingy boyfriend he was while drunk.

“Can I get a kiss?” He kept asking you random questions, like he needed to ask for permission for stuff like that and you had gently nodded.

“Always.” You mumbled, pushing the loose strands of his hair back and he leaned over to press his lips on yours.

The mixture of the alcohol on both of your tongues made it that much more intoxicating to the both of you but Levi kept the kiss soft, like he was savoring the moment,

When he pulled back, his lips landed on your forehead before he rolled to where he was cuddling you while you laid on your back and his face buried in the crook of your neck.

Your fingers had traced shapes on his bare back, hearing a random hiccup come from his mouth and you tried to stifle your laugh, knowing he was already falling asleep and soon enough, you heard his soft snores, making you turn to kiss the top of his head.

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I wish I could experience a drunk Levi

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[peeterparkr]

between lightning and thunder|harry styles.

summary: he’s your best friend’s boyfriend, you have feelings for him, you know the drill.

“In thunderstorms, you count the seconds in between the lightning and thunder, the more you counted the furthest the lightning had struck. 5 seconds equals 1 mile. In matters of the heart, and considering this situation. The more you counted, the closer you were.” 

word count: 7k

pairing: Harry Styles x reader

warnings: alcohol mention, a bit sad, Little Prince, some songs. 

PART TWO: thunderstorms and shooting stars PART THREE: stars and fate

So, here’s my first official Harry Styles one shot (kind of two-part one shot), thanks to @peachybloomss and @laurieteddy for helping me out with beta reading. Yes, there will be part two if you guys want it. I’ll see if you like it, please send feedback, reblog, be kind. 

The rain pattered against the asphalt, now bright and dense, reflecting the tinkling lantern that barely gave an excuse of light to the street. There you were, in that corner, shading the sidewalk with those sneakers that used to be white. You were getting wet, that was an understatement, you  knew you would have a cold the very next day. You clutched your dark blue umbrella as you waited for a miracle.

You saw the sky light up and counted the seconds.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

The lightning struck with such a crash it made you shiver.

It seemed like it was the worst day of your life. It probably wasn't, but that's how it felt. It is difficult to understand why a relationship ends. It’s even more difficult to understand when you’re an outsider. You were not one, though, not really. You wished you were. 

Your best friend’s boyfriend, now ex. Probably ex. 

Harry. 

You saw him, right outside of the building where you were supposed to be in, leaning to give a shoulder to your friend. You would, of course. 

But you wondered what would happen if you didn’t. If you instead went to him. Of course the imagination can go as wild as we let it go but this was just not what you needed. 

Harry. 

It felt weird, and you didn’t know if she’d seen her. He was pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to breathe in. They’d probably had another fight. One of those loud arguments where both of them made absolutely no sense at all. The relationship both of them were fighting for but there was barely any relationship to be saved at all. 

Harry. 

There are secrets in life we all like to keep. This was one you’d kept for a long while right now. 

But you didn't know how longer you could keep it. You were in love with your best friend’s boyfriend. Probably ex now. Who wouldn’t be? 

It was the same old story, coming of age kind of story with no happy ending whatsoever and which led to this absolute mess, with every day your feelings growing deeper. It was your fault for becoming so close to him. 

You saw him again, cursing at the rain as his hair was soaking, he only cursed between his teeth again as he was debating whether or not to go back into the building, he kicked the puddle forming in front of him and groaned. That’s when he saw you. 

With your dark blue umbrella, and coat. Calmly watching him, not moving, not doing anything at all. 

You wondered if he knew. 

If he’d ever notice how your eyes brightened up when he was in the room. Maybe he had, all those years, with you in the shadows. 

When you met him, him sitting down with some friends, they’d introduced you to one of his, and Sierra had insisted on pairing you up with that guy. Teenage years, when one escapes to parties and tries not to come back home drunk for your parents to notice. A Halloween party, you’d dressed up as Wednesday Addams, he’d dressed up as Elton John. 

You had noticed him first, his green eyes had crossed with yours. It wasn’t really his zone, it had seemed. Sierra had caught his eyes, though. 

You barely remembered anything from that party, it was like any other party from that time. Drunk teenagers, gathering around to smoke and play a bare excuse of beer pong. 

It had been raining but it had stopped, that you could remember. You had gone outside, tired from the buzzing music that you could barely recognize, just loud strums and unnecessary words put together. Songs talking about material things and partying. Not feelings. 

You remembered walking outside to the wet grass and you avoided some other people making out on the floor, Britney Spears making out with Frankenstein, that was something. Some other kids yelling through their phones as they assured their parents they weren’t drunk when they clearly stung like warm cheap beer. 

You didn’t remember why you had walked out. But you did remember seeing him there, too. 

“Got bored of the games?” He asked you, he was leaning against the wall. 

There it was, the reason you went outside. He had intrigued you, why hadn’t he stayed with his friends? Why was he staring at the night sky? Was he that drunk? 

You had crossed a few words with him throughout the party, nothing important or particular. Very… forgettable. You’d played beer pong against him and his friend, the one Sierra had insisted that he liked you. 

But nothing too important. 

However you’d seen him walk out. It had awakened something in you. 

“I’m terrible at beer pong,” you admitted. “Not even risking playing.” 

“That’s the fun of beer pong, though,”  he commented. “Ge’ing your ass drunk enough.” 

You chuckled. “Well why aren’t you playing anymore?” 

“I’m too good,” he sassed. “Ain’t nothin’ fun in that,” he pointed out. “So, Wednesday Addams, huh?” 

“Yes,” you smirked. “Be afraid, be very afraid.” 

“You’re too smiley to be Wednesday, very pretty smile,” he grinned. 

“Thanks, Elton,” you grinned. You didn’t know if the warmth in your body was from embarrassment or if it was the effect the alcohol was having on you.

He winked at you. “So, no beer pong for me.” 

You rolled your eyes, and laughed a little. “I’m sure that’s not the reason why you’re here outside, your friends are having fun.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I just came here to see the sky—That sounds so pretentious.” 

“It does,” you conceded. “But I’ll give it to you, it’s pretty, can’t judge you, I partly came outside for it, too.” Although you hadn’t. It was no secret his eyes had staggered in your mind for the whole night and that the constant smiling had caught your attention. 

He had smiled, you still remembered it to this day. “Haven’t had a clear sky in days,” he commented. 

You shrugged, “haven’t noticed.” 

“You haven’t noticed,” he sounded incredibly offended, “didn’t you miss this?” He pointed at the sky, he was just slightly tipsy you could tell. “The stars?” 

That had made you smile and even laugh. “Oh, yes. I missed it, I just hadn’t realized how much.” 

“You hadn’t noticed how much you missed this beautiful night sky!” His movements were big, hands up in the air. He even caused some of the other teenagers to stop making out. 

“Shh! You’ve interrupted them!” You pointed out as the couple walked away angrily. 

“Tha’s great! Look at the sky fellas!” He reached out for them. 

You laughed. “Oh my god.” 

“Huh, they can be horny teens else here. Why ruin m’moment with the sky and a beautiful girl,” he grinned at you. “This only happens in the movies!” He yelled again. 

You couldn’t help but blush and cling to the red cup in your hand. He was drunk. 

“In the movies though, the guy isn’t as drunk,” you mocked. 

“I’m not even that drunk love,” he said. “I’m just concerned how you haven’t noticed the stars.” 

“I had noticed the moon was gone,” you admitted. “Bigger fan of the moon, alright?,” you said. “Right up there, see it?” 

“She’s gorgeous,” he grinned. You stared at it, bright and round, and you turned to him shining bright enough in his nose. “She’s the love of my life,” he stated. 

You had chuckled. “It’s a shame she disappears once every month.” 

“She’s reborn,” he chuckled. “Maybe we should learn from ‘er, huh?” 

“Really?” 

“Each month she rises up again and she’s beautiful in each one of her stages,” he commented, “no matter if she’s on her way to the darkness, she’s stunning.” 

You only scrunched your nose. “We’re getting a bit too poetic, are we?” 

He laughed. “Maybe,” he admitted. 

“I’m kidding, I like that,” you’d said. “We should all be like the moon.” 

“Hm, but if we were, who’d be the stars,” he commented. “It’s funny, we take the stars for granted but y’know what?” He chuckled. “Each one of ��em is very particular.” 

“No one would notice if a star was gone,” you pointed out. 

“I would, the sky would look sadder,” he said. “And even if I love the moon, everyone does really, the stars are what paint the night sky so beautifully.” 

“Well the moon works hard to be seen,” you grinned. “I think we should compliment her effort.” 

“What about the stars? They’re so far away yet they’re freckling the dark sky,” he smiled and then turned to you.“This does feel like a movie scene, innit?” 

“A bit, yeah.” 

“It’s not one,” he added. “Or else you would’ve kissed me.” 

You coughed, blushing. You had felt butterflies. The kind of butterflies that hadn’t disappeared in all those years. “Yeah, it’s not—Not a movie scene.” 

You should’ve kissed him, though. But he hadn’t kissed you either so maybe that was the answer you needed.

“Is it the Wednesday Addams in you?” He wondered with a chuckle. 

“Maybe,” you shrugged, trying to get as serious as you could. 

He blushed. “What would you do if a guy worshiped and adored you? Who'd do anything for you? Who'd be your devoted slave? Then what would you do?” 

“I’d pity him,” you quoted Wednesday. 

He laughed. “You do know her, great.” He kept staring at the sky. “It would be great if a shooting star passed by, would add to it.” 

“Shooting stars, are they like the moon?” You asked.

He chuckled. “No, they’re one of a kind and shall be treasured. If you miss your shot then it’s gone, you should take the chance when you get it.” 

“Never thought of it that way,” you admitted.”hm who would’ve thought a drunken teenager dressed as Elton John would teach me of this.” 

“A wise drunk teenager dressed as Elton John,” he corrected. “You’re a lil’ bit tipsy yourself huh.”

You grinned. “Yeah, just a little.” 

“Besides, you proved my point!” He chipped. “You hadn’t noticed the stars!” 

You smiled. “Now I will, I guess, thanks Elton.” 

“I love the stars,” he pointed out. “Shame they’re barely seen.

“The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart,” you said. 

“The Little Prince,” he grinned. “You know that book?” 

“Everyone knows it,” you chuckled. “But yes, it’s my favorite.” 

“But everyone barely does,” he grinned. “It’s my favorite book, too, read it each year.” 

“Me too,” you beamed. “Helps me out when I’m lost.” 

“I always learn something,” he said. 

You grinned. 

“I’m Harry,” he had introduced himself to you. “Harry Styles.” 

And it rolled on the top of your tongue every now and then, that named you crushed and cursed. It had lingered until now. Of course his stupid name was perfect, too. 

You should’ve kissed him or ran along with his—had he attempted to flirt? Was he trying that? You knew you had liked him. One of those stupid connections, like he’d said. It had felt like one, one of those coming of age films. But it wasn’t. 

Short conversation that you couldn’t quite put your head to it. Didn’t make any sense, if you were honest. You should’ve kissed him, and to this day you still wondered what would’ve happened if you had. 

The story of how Harry and Sierra had officially met was his favorite to tell. He’d say it over and over, how a beautiful girl dressed like Puglsey Addams, because of course best friends always match, had accidentally ran to him and he’d spilled his drink on her moments after meeting you. How he had helped her in the bathroom to clean herself and they’d instantly laughed. How he had fallen in love with her the second he’d met her. 

Funny. 

They had walked out of that party, they’d probably gone for a walk. You remembered it. How since that day you couldn’t stop thinking about him. 

How since that day you always stared at the night sky and watched the stars. 

Funny thing, he was the one to call you out for being in love with the moon and never paying attention to the stars, yet he had never noticed you. Taken you for granted. 

You couldn’t blame him, after all, the moon was the love of his life. 

You’d grown fonder of him, and Sierra had made sure you both got along. 

“My best friend and my boyfriend have to get along.” 

You shouldn’t have, though. Because with time you both were hanging out a friendship was forming, from his side. And then a growing feeling in yours. 

Had he ever noticed? 

Each time Sierra dragged him so you wouldn’t feel left out, but it was counterproductive because you’d fall for him. Because it seemed that his jokes were just made for you, and you couldn’t help but think that you were meant to be. 

Maybe he’d noticed that time near her birthday, years ago, when he’d call you to bake cookies together for your friend. He probably had noticed then. Maybe he had felt something, too. 

Licking a spoonful of cookie dough, and laughing against each other, how he would hide his smile, and how he’d give you those shy green eyes before avoiding a laugh when you’d said a very bad joke. 

How both of you were tiptoeing and dancing in the kitchen, music playing loud, as you were sitting on the counter and he leaned against it, scrolling on his phone as he played songs. 

“Okay, so this,” Harry had said, “this is one of my favorites,” he said before a guitar started to play. 

“The Zombies, She’s not there!” You guessed quickly. “A classic, please, you have to be kidding me, play something difficult.” 

“How do you know it?” Harry frowned, jokingly turning to you. “I swear—“

“I love them, what do you mean?” You chuckled. 

“But you’ve guessed every single song I’ve played,” he pointed out very dramatically. “Every single one, I swear Sierra wouldn’t have guessed one.” 

“Sierra has bad taste in music,” you pointed out. “I love her, but really, but she’s got great taste in cookies so she’ll love this.” 

Because you knew him. Sierra dated him but you knew him. And sometimes you wondered how Sierra couldn’t really see his magic. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about it, back then, how you fit so well together. How your laugh would synchronize with his and how every single joke he’d make, no matter how stupid, was funny to you. The way you’d try to hide some smiles, and how the tension would be broken when she arrived. She whom he loved. 

A usual friend. Should’ve remained as friends. You still were. You felt dirty each time they looked at each other, it hurt, so much. And they talked too cute, and they were always adorable. 

You had to stop thinking about him. 

Except you loved him, and you had realized it, that one time, around Christmas, one of those Christmas parties that you always had with your friends in which eventually Harry had joined in. You remembered how you got his name in Secret Santa. 

Cozy night it was, they were cuddling each other. 

You remembered how he had opened it, Love is a Dog From Hell by Charles Bukowski, a book he’d constantly mentioned, a book he loved. He had thanked you and hugged you and it had been the perfect Christmas present. 

You knew that. 

You saw them, kissing under that mistletoe that he’d jokingly placed on top of them. You wished you were her. Sierra being pretty and lovely. And Sierra having him. 

But then he’d decided to give everyone presents, maybe for accepting him on your Christmas party, or whatever he meant. How he was the life in the party, and how he had made you smile. 

And everyone got presents, and each of them proved how much he put thoughts into it, because he really wanted to make them. How he had given that one friend some brushes so they could paint, or a new camera to that other one. 

You remembered how perfectly unevenly wrapped yours was, with that silly wrapping paper that had  little Santas on it. He probably had wrapped it himself, you could see how it was cut, and the tape all over it, with a hand-made bow, so pretty. It felt warm, and it felt like him. You opened it, he told you you could rip it off, and you hadn't, you had so slowly opened it, you still kept that wrapping paper to this day.  The Little Prince. As if he was joking with you. 

He had only winked at you, probably unaware that he was digging a deeper way into your heart. 

And you kept loving him, watching him from afar as they kissed over and over again. 

How you’d help her with gifts for him, when his own birthdays came around, like when you told her to give him more rings for his fingers, because you knew him. And how he would share his news with you first because he knew you’d listen. 

You wondered if Sierra ever noticed he was more than the guy who had nice clothes, and the guy with that pretty smile. Did she ever stop to listen to his thoughts? Those that came at 2 in the morning. Those you’d been able to listen to at a party, where both of you were away from the crowd as Sierra was partying with some other of your friends. 

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Harry had asked you, that New Years party. They had kissed at midnight, of course. He had brought his guitar, a new habit that he had earned over the time. You loved every time he sang, raspy and quiet. Over the years he’d sing more and more with you, and less and less with crowds. He thought nobody wanted to listen, you did, you always wanted to listen. 

You only looked up to see her, she was. Dancing as the lights were jumping around with her, the music bouncing with her. Harry had his fingers brushing against the strings, barely stroking it, as he was so mesmerized watching Sierra. You always wanted to be seen that way, you never would. 

You could never be Sierra, and of course, why would Harry ever turn to love someone like you? When Sierra was so perfect and lovely. 

You’d never say anything, maybe Sierra did notice. But she trusted you. 

“Yeah,” you had answered. You had been cold. 

He could tell, you knew that. 

“You’re cold,” he pointed out matter-of-factly. 

“I am,” you admitted. “Tis cold, though.” 

“You’re never cold, though,” he pointed out. 

“I am today.” 

“I’m not cold,” he had said. “Want my jacket?” 

And he had given it to you, and Sierra had seen it. And she didn’t mind. Because Sierra trusted you, and she trusted him. 

So she didn’t mind when Harry had taken your hand to shove you into the dancefloor with him. Sierra had said it once: ‘he sees you as a best friend, I think he’s claiming you’. 

And you remembered being silly while dancing with him, how he put his hands in fists and shook them in front of his chest, giggling to himself, and gave you that damned smile. And by then by that time you aready had your own way with him, always singing to each other, being stupid really. 

Heroes by Bowie was playing, a song he loved, and you did too. 

“Just for one day.” 

You still thought it was your song.

And though you were the one to wear the sweater, she’d be the one to go home with him. So in love. It didn’t matter. 

But life goes on, the birds sing, the sun keeps rising.

It had been a long time since you thought of him that way, he was just one more, another broken heart. And you knew it, that life does not stop, she did not either. And crying for a love that never had a chance to be sounds foolish, insensitive and useless.

At some point you did move on. Because you had to, and you wanted it to pass but then it would always come, how he’d smile at you and you’d think of it, the start that one time when you should’ve done something. 

And it was weird listening to Sierra talk about him, she was so desperately in love with him. That’s what mattered, they made each other happy. And so, so happy. And though it hurt, you knew it had to be that way. 

You were the one to listen to both of them, whenever they had a small fight or whatever, both sides. You usually agreed with both, honestly, but always took Sierra’s side. She was your best friend, after all. 

And you couldn’t tell the world that he made you oh so happy, and you new Sierra probably didn’t even think of it, because you weren’t obvious and you had dates of your own, you dated other people of course, but you always ended up wondering what would happen between you and Harry. 

It probably didn’t ever occur to Sierra. Not to Harry either, probably. Because everything was so platonic. Like when he picked you up in the middle of the night just because he wanted to drive around the city, whenever him and Sierra had a fight and he needed to understand her and he knew that the way to understand her was through you. And you’d end up sitting on the trunk of his car, watching the stars, listening to him, making him laugh until the sun was rising. 

You knew everything about him, meaning behind every single tattoo, favorite movie, favorite song. You always had to stop yourself, so patient, but sometimes you couldn’t help it, your hand would brush his hair and you’d think about it, if you could only kiss him. Would it feel the way you dreamed of it? 

An indentation between you and him, always stepping back. But then he’d smile at you and you’d want to close it. Please, please, please, just once. How would it feel? To seal the notch, close the gap.

And once it had happened. Nothing serious, really. A few years ago, around spring, nothing serious. Not at all. It was an accident. 

Really was, of course.  

Harry had been excited about Spring, and Sierra always said that whenever spring came around love was in the air, and Harry wanted to plan out a picnic for Sierra so of course he asked for your help. 

It had been so stupid, an accident. He had asked you to go to the supermarket with him, and you were prancing around, laughing and having fun. He was always so sweet when it came to be so domestic. He was singing in the hallways as he was choosing the pastries, picking out the wine. 

“Something in the way she moves,” he sang along to the song, hand movements as he reached out for a feeling with his hand, exaggerated movements as he threw his head back. 

“The Beatles,” you said, matter of factly. But you knew the Beatles weren’t singing that version. It didn’t feel like a usual supermarket song, but he was moving his head and singing. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “However, they’re not the-”

“Not the ones singing, I know, that’s a woman,” you answered before he could fight back. 

He giggled, “Yea, this is Phyllis Dillon,” he pointed out. “Such a song. I’m impressed, y/n, you didn’t know her.” 

“Didn’t, now I do,” you grinned. “Unusual song for the supermarket.”

He watched you, tiredly with that bright smile that could light up the entire world. Sunlight. 

“This is going to sound rude,” he said. 

You raised your brows at him. 

“But like, if Sierra and I ever break up who’s gonna keep you?” He joked. 

You had laughed. “Like a dog?” 

He scrunched his nose. “I didn’t mean it that way.” 

“Oh, I’m most certain you did,” you teased. 

“Did not.” 

“Well I don’t think you guys will break up,” you had said, and you had meant it, because you really didn’t want them to. He made your best friend happy and your best friend made him happy. All that matters. 

He smiled, “you think?” 

“Yeah, I’m making sure you don’t,” you winked at him. “Also, that wine, Harold?” You asked before putting it back and choosing a better one. 

“Thanks for helping me,” he had said. “Y’er always such a good friend.” 

“Just making sure everything is—“

“Perfect for Sierra, I kno’,” he smirked. “And you always make sure tis perfect for me too.” 

You grinned. “I'm the mastermind behind the relationship.”

And the problem was he had leaned over to kiss your cheek, you guessed in an attempt to thank you for being a friend, but it had been an accident or maybe you had turned to him, subconsciously longing for your lips to meet his. Barely a peck. Yet it had felt… electric. As if a lightning had just struck you. 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

Four. 

And he had backed away. 

Had he felt it? That buzzing and flickering spark? That thunder You’d kissed. 

In a grocery store. Planking a picnic for his girlfriend. Your best friend. This was wrong. 

“I’m—sorry,” both of you had said at the unison. 

“I—was going to—“

“I didn’t know—“

But both of you knew it had been four seconds. It’s funny, someone had once taught you to count the seconds between thunders and lighting. In thunderstorms, you count the seconds in between the lightning and thunder, the more you counted the furthest the lightning had struck. 5 seconds equals 1 mile. 

In matters of the heart, and considering this situation. The more you counted, the closer you were. 4 seconds had been until he had pulled away. 

4 stupid seconds. 

Could mean a lot of things, could mean nothing. 

Harry and you had stopped talking for a while after it happened. Neither of you told Sierra, but she had noticed you were avoiding her boyfriend which brought her to doubt him. No she didn’t think you had kissed. She thought you had fought or whatever she had come up with. 

“Don’t you like Harry anymore? Why are you not hanging out with us anymore?” She had asked you. 

“Maybe I don’t want to third-wheel anymore,” you snapped. “Enjoy your boyfriend, Sierra. I don’t have to be around twenty four seven.” 

That’s when the problems had started. Not between you and Sierra, but him and Sierra. It was no secret you had been the “mastermind” behind their relationship. But you had walked out of there. However it had been coincidental, or so you told yourself. It didn’t really have much to do with you walking out. 

Or had it? 

You had guessed you’d feel that way each night, with the light of your phone illuminating your face while the dark room paled your tears. You’d see his initial on the screen, and doubt if calling was a choice. He was never a talker, really. He barely liked to speak up. He was more of...actions. So whenever he didn’t do anything, you knew something was up. He wasn’t... really, he wasn’t like this. 

At least a text but he didn’t like texting. Nothing. His silent treatments were like others. The ‘H’ is silent, you thought to yourself. 

Funny.

Sierra had mentioned he had been distanced. It was around the time you started dating Daniel. Danny.

And you saw Sierra arguing over and over through the phone, and coming back crying to your shared apartment. Giving her your shoulder to cry on.

She said that Harry had told her he wasn’t sure about it. 

Which led to the first breakup. 

One that didn’t really last. But you remembered it perfectly, you were at a museum, date with Danny. Nice, romantic. 

And then you’d received a call, Harry. He hadn’t called you in a while and you weren’t sure why he had called you. 

You had looked down at the caller ID. He wasn’t a texter, you knew that, but—you answered the phone. 

“Hello? Harry?” You answered, with fear. 

Danny hadn’t questioned you. 

“Sierra and I broke up,” he stated. 

You felt cold. “Oh.” Your first instinct had been to call your friend. See if she was okay. 

“I—“he sighed. “I… can I see you?” 

“I—sure but—“

“Okay, I’ll pick you up in ten,” he said. “Please don’t—“

“Oh, Harry I’m on a date right now.” 

“You—what?” 

“Yes I’m here with Danny,” you had said. “On a date.” 

He had gone quiet, dangerously quiet. 

“But-I’ll call you when I get home, alright?” 

“Yeah.” 

When you got home, Sierra had her door locked and didn’t want to talk to you. 

“I need some time alone.” 

And you had called Harry but he hadn’t answered. 

One. 

Two. 

Three.

Four calls until he answered. Before you knew it, you were with him, driving again, he liked to drive, you knew that. To watch a sunset. As they said in The Little Prince, you see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad.

And he was sad, and he was quiet. ‘Could it Be Another Chance’ by The Samples was playing in the background. 

“I guess Sierra told you,” he had said, gulping. 

“She didn’t,” you said. 

He hadn’t dared to look at you. It felt weird, you hadn’t talked to him a while and seeing him standing there with tears wanting to come down. 

He coughed. “Well.” 

“What happened?” You didn’t know. 

He hadn’t answered, and there was that usual frown upon his face, thoughtful, very thoughtful and dark if he wanted it to be. He was sad or disappointed. You didn’t blame him, of course, breakups are hard enough. 

“Dunno,” he admitted. Endless nightmare when he didn’t actually say what he wanted to. He actually had that habit, but he usually showed it, with his eyes. 

“Then?” 

“Are you afraid of me, y/n?” He blurted out the question. 

“Why would I?” 

“Not in the--scary way,” he said quickly. “But in the way that we both know each other,” he said. “The way that it feels off.” 

“I’ve never felt off with you,” you admitted. 

“That’s the thing,” he sighed. “That’s the thing,” he repeated. “I don’t get it,” he said. 

“Did you feel off with Sierra?” You asked. 

He didn’t answer. Maybe he should’ve. 

“We haven’t talked for a while so I have no inkling on where you were standing,” you admitted. “Not from Sierra’s perspective, either.” 

He shook his head. “That’s the thing,” he said for the third time. “That’s the thing.” 

He had only turned the music louder, and sang along to it. 

“Danny, then?” He asked eventually. “Danny?” 

“Yeah,” you said. 

“And do you feel off with him?” He asked. 

“I don’t.” 

He had clenched his jaw.  “Is it going anywhere?” He asked. “Or is it like any other guy you’ve dated?”

“No.” 

“You like him, right?” He asked. 

You smiled, slightly, feeling warm on your cheeks. “I-” 

“When someone blushes, doesn't that mean 'yes’?” He asked. 

You didn’t answer. 

“I’m just, I’ve been wondering I’ve always wanted to feel with Sierra the same way I feel with you,” he had said. “Not in-” 

“Harry that’s-” 

“Sounds mental, doesn’t it?” He sighed. “To want a friend in someone you love.” 

“Someone you love should be a friend,” you said. “But I…” 

“Did you ever wonder about it?” 

“About what?” 

He shrugged. “If that night I had ran into Wednesday instead of Pugsley.” 

“You did run into me,” you pointed out. “It just wasn’t meant to be.” 

“Yeah, could’ve been.” 

But it had you thinking. Maybe it  had been stupid, but you had broken up with Danny after a few weeks of thought. Or maybe led Danny to break up with you because you had been off. And it had felt off, and it hadn’t but with one simple question Harry had made, it had you thinking. 

And maybe it was stupid to think that now that Harry and Sierra had broken up you could simply get your shot, but he had been the one to say it, hadn’t he? 

Shooting stars are chances. And he was one and you hadn't taken it. 

Just after you’d walk in to your apartment with Sierra, you’d seen them kissing again. They were back together. 

So there was your chance, gone again but then again it was stupid to think that you could get a shot, besides it was Sierra’s boyfriend. 

Yes, heartbroken you were. 

And it continued, for a long while. They were fine again and you had to be quiet again. Halloween, Spring, New Years, Christmas, Birthdays, parties, every single season they were there. All the time. And they were fine. For most of the time, other times not so much, and the second, and third breakup came around. Yet, they always got back together, even with all the fighting and yelling which you never understood, not really. Why would anyone stay in a relationship like that? 

You guessed that at the end of the day they still loved each other, and their fights were simply stupid and they always, always, always got over them. You didn’t, you remembered them yelling and fighting and just searching for an excuse to stay together, and then they’d kiss and forget it and they’d be calmed. 

It still ached, to have him around nd think of the stupid ‘what if’ that would certainly never come because even if you were given the chance, you’d never take it because Sierra was and would always be your best friend. 

Did she know? Had she seen it? The way your world stopped when Harry was around? How you’d make time for him or how whenever he was around you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Your bright and true smile, and how you’d listen to every song he told you to, or how you’d always be there to listen to him, no matter the time. 

How you looked away each time they kissed and how you wished you could find someone like him and yet it wouldn’t be enough because it wouldn’t be him. Because his mind was the place where you wanted all your secrets to be hidden. His lips were the only one thing that could make you feel, or so you thought, that could make you get to paradise. His voice was supposed to tell your story, and his ears were meant to listen to you. 

Yet, it was Sierra. 

Not you. 

Sierra. 

And Harry would tell her. He loved her, he lived for her, spared his entire life and love for her. And though you knew they weren’t happy, you wondered if you were allowed to tell them. Maybe you were biased, and you did hear them say how they loved each other but then it… You could tell it was off. 

The moment you had given up had been barely a few weeks ago, finally given up. You remembered how he had asked for your help. 

“I’m picking out a ring, y/n.” 

“Another one?” You had chuckled. “You’ll need more fingers, Harold.” 

“For Sierra.” 

“Oh, she’s not really a ring person-” you had started. 

“No, I… y/n I’m asking her to marry me,” he had blurted. 

You had paused. 

“Seems like it’s time,” he said. “And she’s been hintin’ it. Doesn’t get any better than this.” 

It hurt. But you had gone with him. 

Walking through the store, seeing rings and rings, jewelry.

“I dunno anything ‘bout marriage,” he admitted. “It’s ironic, I love rings yet this one I can’t seem to know….” 

“This one is pretty,” you had pointed out at one. 

He had made a face, scrunching his nose. Always making faces.

“Why are you doing this?” You had questioned. 

He had looked up at you. He knew why you were asking. Because things hadn’t been right but he probably thought this was the way to make things right, but he probably wanted you to question him. Harry couldn’t be tied, yet this seemed like he was tying himself. 

It made you sad, how he had lost what made him oh so beautiful, oh so perfect. His freedom. He was willing to take away his freedom. Not because marriage per se was taking away someone’s freedom but for Harry this particular decision seemed like it was. 

He didn’t smile anymore, not that much, he wasn’t as silly. 

“She’s my moon,” he had said. 

“Yet I remember you were a bigger fan of the stars,” you had called him out. 

“The shooting star passed, y/n, this is what’s meant to happen, I lost a shooting star, but I love the moon,” he said. “The moon is meant to be loved.” 

“Marriage won’t solve your problems.” 

“I know, but it might make me get back to my senses, I’ve spent all these years with her, I love her, that’s it, no other explanation, and that’s--” 

“Harry.” 

“it is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important,” he quoted. 

“Love doesn’t mean wasting time.” 

And the conversation had continued and you kept playing it over and over your head, and tried to understand if this was your fault, which you were sure led to the fourth breakup, to the one you probably were witnessing now. 

To this day, of you standing with your dirty sneakers, with two options. To offer a shoulder or to finally try and fight for something that probably would never work. To risk everything for once. 

Standing with your umbrella, watching him staring at you. Wondering what could’ve happened if it had been Wednesday instead of Pugsley. Wondering what would’ve happened if you kissed him. Wondering what would’ve gone by had you made a wish to that shooting star. 

You were willing to do it. Risk it all to count the seconds between the lightning and the thunder. 

-

part two: thunderstorms & shooting stars

part three: stars and fate

I’ll tag some friends who might like this: 

@saintlavrents @annathesillyfriend @tanyalooovesyou @harrysrightchelseaboot @harrysleftchelseaboot @wholesomestyles @whatevsholland @eerieharrie​ @pparkeramorr​

[noteguk]

for science | jhs | m

— summary; in which Hoseok hears through the grapevine that you give one of the best blowjobs ever, and he needs to test it to be sure. 

— contents and warnings; blowjob (duh), dirty talk, praising and stupid pet names, cum eating, deepthroating (the oc has no gag reflex), Hoseok finds heaven, kind of crack? Idk don’t take this seriously, college!au, hoseok x reader (with a mention of past Jimin x reader), studying sessions being interrupted in the name of science 

— words; 5,1k

Requested by anon! 

Hoseok could be kind of clueless when it came to some science-related things (and his high school biology teacher could attest to that), but one thing he knew very well was the scientific method. All that hypothesis-testing-stuff, or whatever the hell that was (okay, maybe he didn’t know it that well) had taken him out of some trouble in the past. It helped him see some of his decisions in a more experimental light, avoiding the terrible Olympic-somersault-into-conclusions that had gotten so many of his friends into awkward situations. And it shouldn’t even be said that he took quite a bit of pride in that — it made him feel very intelligent and he would take any stroke to the ego that he could get. 

So, when Jimin got a bit too tipsy and started babbling on about how you gave him the best blowjob of his life, Hoseok was, at the very least, cautiously skeptical. 

“You’re such a drama queen.” Hoseok rolled his eyes before chugging down a bit more of his beer. He was nowhere near as intoxicated as Jimin was, and he wasn’t planning on changing that. It was a Wednesday night, for fuck’s sake. He had to leave some thrill to the end of the week. “It probably was like… alright. Good, even. But the best one ever? Please.” 

“It was so much more than alright, dude.” Jimin threw his head over the couch’s back, looking like he just got washed up on the shore. His hair was a mess of clear strands, exploding on his head like a failed science fair experiment. “It was the best suck of my liiiiife. I wish she didn’t hate me so I could have that again.” 

He scoffed. Hoseok had enough filter left in him to avoid telling Jimin that the reason why you hated him was entirely his fault — what did he expect from three weeks of ghosting? Besides, if the head was that good, he would surely stick around for just a bit longer than two months. “Sure. Like the time that you almost died riding a roller coaster.” 

“Hey. I almost did.” Jimin’s eyes opened, presenting his friend with a dazed-out, unfocused brand of frustration. He was getting tired of not being taken seriously — didn’t Hosoek know that alcohol makes you more honest? He wasn’t making things up. Not when they were as serious as the well-being of his dick, or actual death. “It was some Final Destination bullshit, I’m telling you. Pieces of metal flying and everything.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved it off, leaning closer to Jimin so he could take the almost-empty can of beer from his clumsy hands, and placed it on the center table. “I think you’ve had enough alcohol for tonight, man. You have a class at ten tomorrow.” 

“I’m serious, dude,” Jimin pressed on. It was past eleven and Hoseok only wanted to sleep, but the other boy was clearly clueless about the lack of mutual interest in that conversation. “Aren’t you two friends or something?”

“Kind of. It’s weird,” Hoseok answered. You two had lingered in a hazy friendship space for a long time now, and he didn’t know exactly how to explain your relationship. He didn’t really consider you two close by any means, but you weren’t strangers or casual friends either. To be honest, he hadn’t thought too much about it until that very moment. “Why? What does that have to do with anything?” 

Jimin sighed, fumbling against the sofa. Much to Hoseok’s delight, he was starting to get sleepy as well. “You could ask her to suck you off,” he mumbled, “then you can feel it for yourself.” 

He laughed at that, unable to believe what he was hearing. “Jimin, you’re out of your mind if you think that’s not gonna backfire.” 

He blinked heavily. “Hm? Why?” 

Hoseok blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “We aren’t that close, and we haven’t done anything remotely sexual before this. It would be super creepy.”

“That’s not true,” Jimin spoke lazily, as if the words were starting to get hard to find. There was a pause so long after his sentence that Hoseok thought his roommate had fallen asleep. “I know you guys made out like at the beginning of the semester. Taehyung told me so.”

He was going to murder Taehyung. “It wasn’t like that. We were both drunk and it was super awkward afterwards.” Hoseok got up from the couch, leaving Jimin to groan and spread out his legs over the cushions. “Listen, I’m glad you two had fun, and I’m sorry you ruined it. But I’m not gonna ask ____ to suck me off just so I can know if you’re being dramatic or not.” 

Jimin smirked wickedly — or at least tried to, because his lack of facial control wasn’t doing him any favors. “Whatever you say,” he teased, “but I think you’re curious.” 

Truth was: Hoseok was beyond curious. The cogs in his head had started to move, and his brain was evoking lewd images of you so fast that he could barely follow. He would be pretending if he said that he never saw you under that light before, but, after the mess that was your makeout session, he had forced himself to jump into the friendzone before he managed to make things worse. 

Hoseok liked you very much, even if you two weren’t particularly close. He enjoyed spending time with you, he found you funny, smart, and way out of his league. But he wasn’t delusional enough to believe that you would actually say yes to sucking him off, especially so out of the blue. 

“I’m not curious,” Hoseok lied through his teeth, and he wanted to change the subject so much that his head was starting to hurt. “You’re gonna sleep here?” 

“Hm… yes… the couch is very comfortable.” Jimin closed his eyes and adjusted his body on the furniture. His baggy shirt was already halfway through his stomach and his pants had ran up to his waist, but the man didn’t seem to notice. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes, moving towards the door. He needed to get Jimin some blankets, because the other was surely not getting up for the rest of the night. It was bad enough to babysit him for those few hours of intoxication, but infinitely worse to make him chicken soup if he got sick. Been there, done that. “I’m sure the couch is great.”

Jimin’s voice was soft and sleepy when he spoke up again. Hoseok was already in the corridor, and he almost didn’t hear him when he said, “I’m not talking about the couch.” 

Hoseok went to Jimin’s bedroom and grabbed his pillow and the blanket from his undone bed. Meanwhile, scenarios ran wild inside his head, having you as the main star. He didn’t know what was taking over him, but he wasn’t so quick to ignore Jimin’s story. Hoseok was faced with a fantastic scenario of a perfect blowjob, and the idea that it was so close to him was making his pulse quicken. Again: it would be absurd to ask you to do that, regardless of the motive behind it, and he knew that it would be awful for your already-strange friendship. 

No, he could never do that. He would not. 

But like… what if it worked, and you magically accepted his request? And what if, by some wonderful moment, some millennial alignment of planets, Jimin wasn’t actually being hyperbolic and you actually had the ability to give incredible blowjobs? Could he really let it pass without giving it a shot? 

He could see it as a scientific experiment, Hoseok thought, as a way to prove a hypothesis. It couldn’t hurt if he just— 

Oh my god, dude, shut the fuck up and forget about this. 

Coming back to his senses, Hoseok strutted out of his roommate's bedroom and walked toward the living room. By the time he came back with the blanket and the pillow, Jimin was already deep asleep.

~ 

Against his best efforts, that conversation remained stuck to the back of his mind for the next two weeks. Hoseok would find himself going back and forth on the idea of you having some strange, Marvel-worthy superpower when it came to sucking dick and, worst of all, the idea that his skepticism was making him miss out on it. Jimin was exaggerated when it came to, well, pretty much everything, but that didn’t mean that he would be wrong about that specific subject. That would be a logical fallacy, and that was also something that Hoseok knew very well. Bless his late nights on Reddit for that. 

Yet as the days moved along, and his curiosity was slowly turning into desire, he was forced to revisit the infamous night between the two of you, the one that Jimin had so mercilessly mentioned. Thinking back on it, it wasn’t surprising that your overconsumption of alcohol, added to the way that you two had grown close (both physically and mentally) had ended up with Hoseok laying on top of you, kissing the soul out of you and fondling your breasts in the middle of a party. It wasn’t the most dignified moment of either of your lives, but, well, it happened. 

One way or another, the night didn’t move forward. Even if Hoseok already had a tent in his pants, you two were far too intoxicated to consent, and were quick to fall asleep before the situation could escalate. Bottom line: Hoseok woke up with your tit in his hand, a nightmarish hangover, and the decision that the You-Subject would have to stay on hold for some time. 

And on hold it stayed. For an entire semester. And it would’ve remained that way if Jimin’s stupid mouth hadn’t started talking. 

So after two weeks of self-inflicted psychological torture, Hoseok slipped a hangout invitation amidst your texts. If you saw any second intentions behind his “haven’t seen you in awhile, wanna hangout? ;)” you didn’t let it show. The problem was that you weren’t really in the mood to go out, especially since you had a big exam coming up, so Hoseok ended up convincing you that he would stay quiet if you let him go over to your place. 

It was a bit harder not to notice the desperation in his proposal that time, but you ended up agreeing. Your thought process was that the boy would eventually realize that his hangout attempt was ridiculous and that he would leave you to study by yourself, and the two of you would reschedule that odd friendship session to when you weren’t drowning in textbooks. 

The problem was that you had been stupid enough to believe that your friend would actually keep his mouth shut. 

Hoseok was seated on the edge of your bed for so long that he was sure that his asscheeks were permanently imprinted on your sheets. Because he hated himself, he kept eyeing the digital clock to your right, and he was certain that he had spent the last fifty two minutes and thirty three seconds staring at the back of your head and trying to come up with a casual way to ask for a blowjob. 

He had tried a few times already, and each one constituted of him being unable to finish his sentence, instead looking at you like BooBoo The Fool until you turned back around to face your disorganized desk, sighing and trying to concentrate on your work. 

All things considered, he couldn’t actually believe he had escalated Jimin’s sailor tale to that point. He was out of his mind, that was a fact, and he had absolutely no clue how you would react once he (if he) found the words to ask you to sacrifice your mouth for science. 

God, he was an idiot. 

He cleared his throat and got ready to try one more time. “So… I…” 

You sighed heavily and turned around on the chair. “Hobi, this is the fifth time you’re starting a sentence and not finishing it,” you said, annoyed. “Can you tell me what the problem is? I have a test in two days and you promised you wouldn’t interrupt me if you came over.” 

“I’m sorry,” he didn’t like feeling like a kid being scolded, even if he kind of deserved that. Hoseok guessed it would be better to just take off the band-aid before he made an even bigger fool out of himself. “Let me just, like, explain the context of this. Otherwise it’s going to be even more strange.” 

Dropping your pen, you fully swirled the chair around, crossing your hands over your legs. He wasn’t expecting your complete attention anytime soon, and the seriousness in your stare made his courage falter for a second. It was such a stupid idea, you’d just end up hating him like you did Jimin. “As long as you make it quick,” you told him.  

Hoseok hesitated, running one hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay, so… like, a few weeks ago I was talking to Jimin,” he started, watching your face for any signal of an expression — confusion, disgust, anything. But he found nothing. “We were drunk, and he started talking about the time that you two were together. Like, sexually.” 

You blinked, unfazed. “And?”

“And… he told me that you give, like, the best blowjobs in history,” the words left his mouth before he could fully digest them. This time, he got a reaction out of you — a light raise of your eyebrows. “And, no offense, but I didn’t believe him. You know how extra he is about some stuff. Most stuff.” 

There was a moment of silence as you waited for him to go on, but Hoseok was too busy swallowing his thoughts down and feeling like he would collapse at any given moment. You sighed. “So what? You wanted to tell me that you don’t believe in my blowjob abilities? That’s all? Can I go back to studying now?” 

“No, that’s…” Now, things were starting to get complicated. Just take off the band-aid, Hoseok, don’t chicken out now. “I wanted to know if you could show me. Like, if you could suck me off. So I could... confirm that hypothesis.”

Every part of his brain was suddently hyperaware of how fucking stupid he just sounded. He had expected that another thick silence would follow, but his heart almost leaped out of your chest when you started laughing at him — like, full-chest, eyes closing, head rolling back laughing. “Are you serious?” You asked, taking one hand to cover your mouth before, at last, bursting out again. He felt like his ego was being stabbed with a rusty nail. “I can’t believe you, Hoseok. Took you all this time just to ask me if I could suck you off? For science?”

His mouth felt like it was full of cotton and he had to clear his throat before he found the force to answer you. “Yeah, I mean, only if you’re comfortable with it, of course,” he struggled to say, each word morphing into the next. His stomach had frozen up and the flight or fight response was starting to kick in. Had he really been that much of an idiot? When did his cock start dictating his words? “I… I know this is like, super creepy. I’m sorry. We can forget this ever happened and I’ll never talk to you again. I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

Suddenly sad, he waited as you settled back on the chair, wiping a small tear from the corner of your eye before you stared at him. There was still a smirk crawling up your lips, and he felt like the world was collapsing all around him  as the silence expanded around the two of you. He looked at the digital clock: it had taken him precisely three minutes to ruin everything. 

He sighed, shoulders falling. “Do you hate me? Why are you so quiet?” 

You bit down on your lip, your eyes narrowing as you took his form in. Hoseok was hot: point blank. He was also nice, and respectful enough to realize that he might have overstepped a few lines with his request — and, even if you couldn’t really understand it, you also weren’t bothered by it. And you certainly didn’t hate him. In a way, you were almost flattered. You would’ve been more if the comment had come from anyone else but your Danny Phantom ex. But that was a different story. 

The entire situation was just too funny to let it go. And, besides, you really wouldn’t mind sucking Hoseok off. It wasn’t as if you had never thought about that before. 

“I’m... considering it,” you told him, watching as his face lit up in a mixture of confusion and joy. He looked like a kid seeing Santa for the first time. “If you promise to shut up and let me study, I’ll do it. And if you agree to never talk about it again.” 

Hoseok blinked profusely, his mind short circuiting. “For real?” 

“Yeah.” You raised from your chair, walking closer to your bed. Hoseok swallowed hard and leaned back, placing his hands on the mattress for support. “But do me a favor: if it’s not that good, don’t tell me. It’ll hurt me.” 

“Yeah, alright.” He swallowed dry, every neuron in his brain trying to grasp what the fuck had just happened. His mind was the Spongebob office being set on fire, and he suddenly didn’t know how to deal with the anticipation booming in his chest. “I’m... not hard yet, though.” 

“It’s okay.” You kneeled in front of him, placing your hands on his inner thighs and slightly pushing them apart. Hoseok quickly got the cue, and opened a bit more so you could comfortably place yourself between them. “Just... relax,” your voice was almost a whisper then, and he felt his soul trying to leave him. That was insane. “Let me take care of you.”  

Your words managed to make him relax a bit, then he tensed all the way back at the feeling of your hands fumbling with his button. His breath hitched as you pulled the zipper down, fingers hooking on the edge of his pants before tugging them down his thighs. 

He felt exposed as his pants fell like a puddle around his ankles, his tongue coming out to wet his lips as you leaned in. Hosoek felt like he was dreaming when you started nibbling at his skin, kissing and licking his inner thighs as you slowly made your way closer to his aching member. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he barely got out before sighing, the tingles of your caresses on his skin shooting directly towards his cock, already semi-hard. 

You flicked your eyes up at him, humming against his thigh muscles. You were now so dangerously close to his underwear that he thought he would lose consciousness. “Were you daydreaming about it or something?” You teased. 

Maybe in a different position, he would’ve lied about it. But the truth came out before he could hold it back. “Ever since Jimin told me that, yeah,” he said. 

“Hmm… hope I live up to the expectation, then,” you purred, looking up at him with those doll-like eyes. Hoseok suddenly felt like he was losing his balance, his entire body burning in desire and expectancy. You looked like another one of his horny daydreams, but you were kneeling right there, in arms reach, and he didn’t know how he would deal with what was about to ensue. 

Your mouth was hovering above his clothed cock before he could notice and, delicately, you leaned down to place a kiss on it. The touch was tender, almost numb with the fabric standing between you two, and yet Hoseok shivered, biting down on his lip as one of your hands enveloped his erection. He watched, mesmerized, as you started lazily stroking him through his underwear, leaning your head to the side so you could place heavy kisses on him, at times giving his tip a few kitten licks until it was covered by a thin layer of your saliva. 

The sensation left him on edge, silently begging for more. By the time you moved back so you could undress him, Hoseok was a mess of shallow breaths and heavy swallows; his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as pleasure started to build up at the corners of his perception. Biting back a moan of relief, Hoseok raised his hips as you slowly pulled his underwear downward, allowing for his cock to spring free from its confinement. You had done a good job teasing him, because it was already fully hard when it bounced against his abdomen, red-tipped and leaking. 

His gaze oscillated between your face and his cock, watching for any reaction as you took one hand to his length, squeezing him firmly. “Fuck,” he let out a grunt, his overwhelmed body responding to the smallest of touches. 

You smirked at his reaction, taking a quick glimpse at his devastated features before moving back to what you were doing. Hoseok was so cute, you thought, liking the way he was so responsive. 

A shudder ran up Hoseok’s body when your tongue came out between your lips, placing delicate licks on his base. He loved the feeling of your warm muscle against his hardened member, his mind growing eager as you began tracing a path upwards, flattening your tongue against him. His breathing was ragged by the time that you reached his crown, a hum escaping your throat as you lazily swirled your tongue around his tip, covering him with your saliva. 

You took your time caressing his slit with your mouth, waiting until he was cursing and panting before you finally wrapped your lips around him. At first, you only took his tip in your mouth, sucking so slowly that Hoseok whined and buckled his hips from the bed, trying to make you move faster. 

Wordlessly, you simply placed your palm against his thigh and pressed him back down. Even if that was the last thing he wanted to do, Hoseok accepted your order and settled back against the mattress, grunting as you continued to tease him. 

“Please, put it all in,” he begged, starting to lose his trail of thought. “This is torture.” 

And maybe another day you would have taken a bit more time torturing him, but, that afternoon, you were kind of in a rush to finish studying. So you complied. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck.” His eyes shut and his head was thrown back as you fully sank down on his cock, your tongue flat against him. Before he could stop himself, his hand flew to your hair, yanking at the strands as you moved back up, your hand pumping the parts of him that you couldn’t reach. 

“God, your mouth feels so great…” He moaned, back arching as you reached his tip once again, licking it before sinking back down — you took him just a bit deeper that time, and the motion didn’t pass by unnoticed. He was really starting to believe Jimin, and he wondered if maybe he should’ve been more worried about the entire rollercoaster situation. “Ah, that’s it. Just like that.” 

You moaned around him, the vibrations making him cry out, desperate. Hoseok couldn’t hold himself back from moving closer to the edge of the bed, his other hand clenching your bedsheets between his fingers as you continued to swallow his cock like it belonged in the hot confinement of your mouth. 

“Oh— oh my god, baby,” he grunted, pulling at the strands of your hair. His mind was starting to get hazy, his chest fluttering in a mess of sighs and heavy breaths every time that you sank down on his member; every time you flicked your tongue against his sentitive slit or pumped his base. “That’s really good, you take my cock so well.”

You looked up just to see the mess that Hoseok had turned into. With his mouth parted and eyes glazed over, he looked like he was about to fall apart at any second. He was watching you in complete awe, his eyebrows falling to form a beautiful frown of concentration; tongue coming out to lick his lips. He was so fucked out that you felt yourself getting riled up by his image, a pool of wetness accumulating between your thighs. 

“You look so pretty like this.” He exhaled, unaware of his own words. Hoseok was too busy following your swollen, redden lips as they wrapped around his member, your cheeks hollowing after you sucked him with all that you had. Even the small amount of droll around your mouth was enough to make him throb in your hold, a grunt escaping him. “With these — fuck — those pretty lips around my cock, shit. I could watch you forever.” 

You hummed around his member again at his words, the vibrations shooting directly at his core, where a rising heat had dangerously grown stronger, signaling his upcoming orgasm. Hoseok loved the way you actually looked like you were enjoying yourself, moaning and whimpering around his cock as you took all of him in your mouth, eyes closing every time he throbbed inside you. The eagerness in which you took him in, like you were starving for his cock, was one of the filthiest images that Hoseok had ever seen, and it was one that he knew would haunt his dreams for the years to come. 

When you removed his cock from your mouth with a dirty wet sound, Hoseok was about to complain before he saw you licking down his length, one of your hands holding his cock away from your face as your tongue started to play with his balls. It was an odd feeling, but not an unwelcomed one, and it kept him on edge for a little while longer while you played with him. 

With a timid whimper, you looked up at him as you licked your way back up to his tip. The image was so hot that he almost fainted, a deep moan escaping his throat when you took him back inside your delicious mouth. 

And the truth was clearer than Hoseok had ever expected: Jimin was right. 

“Fuck, babe, how did you get this good?” Hoseok grunted, trying his best to focus on the picture-perfect image of your lips wrapped tightly around his throbbing cock. He could tell that his release was starting to build up at an alarming rate, his thighs growing weaker every time you took him inside you. “Oh my- Ngh! Fuck! Oh my god!” 

Hoseok’s mind was wiped clean when he felt his tip hitting the back of your throat, his hips buckling up as your throat clenched around him. He was pretty sure he was in heaven then — if he focused, he could hear angels singing all around him — , his pleasure overtaking every cell of his body as you continued sucking the soul out of him. 

“Holy fuck, do that again,” he begged, his voice much higher than before. You didn’t need to be asked twice, because, within a second, he was crying out at the feeling of your throat wrapping around his cock one more time; his hands holding tightly to the roots of your hair. The only reason why Hoseok hadn’t started fucking your mouth yet was because he wanted to have you in control, giving him the best head of his life without any interruption. “Fuck, fuck— Baby, you’re so fucking good at this, fuck.”

There was a vague raising of his hips to meet your movements, making him hit the back of your throat again and again, the lewd sounds you were making filling the room. Nothing in his life had ever compared to that instant, he had ever felt a pleasure as great as he did at that point, and he knew it was about to snap. 

“God, I’m gonna cum,” he sobbed, finally closing his eyes and letting the pleasure take over. “Fuck, you’re so good, I’m gonna—“ 

Hoseok filled your mouth with his cum, dripping down your throat when you swallowed around him. His head was spinning and his muscles were trembling, and that time he was unable to hold himself back from thrusting up against your mouth, trying to prolong that divine sensation for as long as he could before, at last, collapsing against the mattress with a final, shaky moan. 

He barely heard you when you got up to your feet, his mind floating above his body as he tried to get himself back together. With the little force that he still had inside him, Hoseok leaned on his elbows and stared at you like you were made of gold. “Fuck, ____.” He breathed out, and the only thing he could say was, “What the fuck?” 

You giggled at his reaction, thumb cleaning a bit of cum that had painted the corner of your mouth. “I appreciate your feedback,” you teased, pointing over your shoulder, to where your desk stood, forgotten. “Now that you have your answer, can I study in peace?” 

“Y-Yeah, sure,” he struggled to say. “I’ll... stay quiet.” 

You smiled brightly. “Thanks!” 

He thought about thanking you right back for giving him the best orgasm of his life, but he thought that would make everything much more pathetic. So he didn’t. 

Hoseok eventually found the motivation within him to put his cock back inside his underwear, clumsily pulling his pants back up. He found himself in the same position he was before everything went down: dumbfounded, staring at the back of your head as you worked on your textbook. The red numbers on the clock told him that just ten minutes had passed, and yet his life had completely changed. 

All that he wanted was to return the favor — it was the fair exchange, after all. Hoseok sat up at the edge of the bed and spoke up, filled by a newfound courage. “Wait. Don’t you want me to take ca—”

“Shut the fuck up, Hoseok.” 

His mouth fell shut and his courage deflated just as quickly. Maybe another time.

[osakunt]

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➬ 𝗡𝗮𝗼𝘆𝗮.𝗭 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

➬ 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁 𝗡𝗮𝗼𝘆𝗮 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 😮‍💨

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"Another day, another kill, huh ?" You say walking away from the individual you had been hired to target. Cleaning the spatter that had landed on your cheek you enter a bar where a light haired man was sitting down. He gives you a twisted smile as you take a seat in front of him.

"Lovely, you're here. Now I have to leave" you say loudly enough for Naoya to hear you. "I don't like you either,bitch" he scoffs giving you an amused look. "Did you get him ? I really do hope you did cause a woman-“

"Shut up. Women are free to do whatever they please. The same way a man can do so, so can they. Now shut the hell up. Zenin or not, you're not about to talk to me as if I don't have any sense." You interrupt him starting to make your point.

"I was gonna say 'a woman like you can hit her target without even trying' but okay" he rolls his eyes

"I mean- knowing how you are, you can't blame me for assuming your next words. But on another hand why'd you call me here while I was on the job ?"

"Just wanted to see you"

'Did this motherfucker just say he wanted to see me ? I know he didn't just- what the fuck.....' the little voice in your head wonders around trying to figure out what was going on. Now who the hell was this man ? Where was the man who thought women were only meant to be house wives.

"I'll be leaving now"

"No wait." He grabs your wrist lightly throwing you off even more. He lets go seeing that you sat back down giving him a bored look but still your full attention.

"I uhh....fuck man. I LIKE YOU ,DAMN IT !!" He yells out then sits down waiting for a reaction from your part. You stay silent giving him a blank look, processing what he had just blurted out.

"BWAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!!!!" A laugh erupts from you, making him get a tad offended. He had just confessed to you. Why the fuck were you laughing ? "Pfft- hmhahahee........oh you're not joking. Well then. You sure- no being has taken over your head ?"

"Tch. Whatever" he gets up from the booth he was in,in the bar leaving you behind to make his way back home. He had just mustard up hella courage and swallowed his pride to confess.

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As much as he wanted to force you into submission, he knew better. He knew you weren't going to bite like any servant of his.

You were in a meeting with his father as for his father had called for a reliable person from your family to rely on, in case anything were to happen. Starting to get bored you get up from your seat to stretch your legs

"Do we have an agreement ,Gojo ? I really would love for you to be the responsible one to take action if an attack were to be aimed to the Zenin" Naobito gives you his evil looking smile which was suppose to come off as genuine but that didn't work for him.

"Yea sure. I don't care. Question,old man: why have someone look over your clan when you wouldn't mind seeing it go down ?" You down the glass of white liquor he had given you.

Him finishing up his glass and pouring another he smiles at you. "As much as I wouldn't mind seeing this shit hole go down. There's many after the position as leader. Yea there are some things we don't accept and what-not but I'd like to see the end of the fight to see who the next leader is." His tipsy self says downing yet another glass.

"Hm. I see what you mean. Nice seeing you again ,old bag. Be safe and send me one of those bottles of booze you got." You wave you hand to the old drunken man who let out a laugh.

Strolling through the clans court yard to make it to the exit of the place , you spot Naoya leaning on the brick wall looking out into the distance. Sensing someone approaching he looks up; Seeing that it was you- accelerated his heart, making it start pounding a lot faster against his rib cage.

"There you are. Mind telling me why you've been avoiding me ever since two weeks ago ?" He tries not to pout but ends up doing so wanting an answer right that moment. His facade of being tough not working at all. Never really worked on you and never would.

"I have a job but go off" you pass by him not caring if he was acting like a spoiled child. Which he was. "Give Maki and Mai my regards. I can feel that they'll show up to this depressing place sooner or later.

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𝘼 𝙛𝙚𝙬 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙

[𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙖 𝙛𝙚𝙬 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨 , 𝙄 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙠𝙨]

Sitting a top of where you used to live, you look over at a area where you and Satoru used to play. "Your dumb ass really isn't good with being stealthy. Come out" with a giggle of his own the white haired man comes out fixing his shades.

"Why don't you just tell him that you don't like him and end of story." Satoru says leaning on you right shoulder after taking his spot next to you. You stay silent at his words thinking of how that would turn out.

"I know you feel the same~" he pokes your cheek in a playful manner.

"I never said I didn't"

"So why not tell him that"

"He needs to work for it. He thinks I'm one of his little servants who submits before him on the spot. No baby we don't do that here. he also need to learn what it's like to be stomped down on. God he's so arrogant. He's been acting a lot like a lovesick idiot but wait till that passes. That ego will sky rocket"

"Purrrr♡" Satoru lets out smiling. "How about you just fuck him and call it a day ?"

"I've thought of that. I'll just tell him that I feel the same tomorrow. He's been keeping an eye out for me. Starting to get annoying. Anywhere I turn, there he is making sure I'm still alive."

"Ew. I could never"

"Same, bro"

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Again with the same person next to you, you stop in the middle of walking. Naoya noticing that you stopped he turns making his way back. "What's wrong? Hurry up. I'm not waiting for you, scu- I mean-"

Your lips pressed against his, his words come yet again to another stop. You interrupting him before he even corrected his what he was saying.

Both your lips moving as one and your lips tasting sweet to him, he deepens the kiss by pressing his hand on your lower back, pushing you to him.

"Learn when to shut up Naoya. I swear this why nobody likes you." You pull back moving his hair away from his face.

"Hmmm ? With the exception of you, correct ?" he gives you a cocky smile sneaking a quick kiss to your lips.

"Yes. Zenin. I like you. More than I should,actually"

"Good to know, love. Had me out here looking like an idiot,ya know ?" He leans in towards you starting up anther kiss.

Maybe this wasn't so bad. 🤷🏻‍♀️

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

[five-rivers]

Okay no but Vlad just trying to womb Danny before Clockwork does, not bothering to explain one goddamn thing to the poor lad. Just a one-shot. Danny escapes and flies off at the end. Clockwork in his tower laughs/chuckles at Vlad's attempt. How would that go. What would the attempt even look like

If Danny were to make a list of his least favorite places to be, all iterations of 'Vlad's house' would rate somewhere below lovely vacation spots like the River of Revulsion, the Consuming Maw, and Hell. Despite this, he wound up at one or another of Vlad's residences with some frequency.

But he'd never been to Vlad's lair. He very much did not want to break his streak of 'not being in Vlad's lair,' because as bad as being in all of Vlad's other houses was, a ghost's lair moved according to its owner's will.

Which is why his current predicament (hit with the Plasmius Maximus and in one of Skulker's nets) was so disturbing.

"Uh, Skulker, when you said lair you meant his stupidly oversized castle mansion thing in Wisconsin, right?"

"Didn't you blow that up?"

"Oh. Well, yeah, but he rebuilt." Danny subtly began picking at the knots tying the net together.

"And then you blew it up again."

"Okay, I can see how you'd think that, but the second time wasn't me. It was the government."

"Right. Sure." If Skulker had recognizable irises pupils, Danny was sure they'd be rolling.

"No, really. But I'm sure I could blow up his actual lair, too, you know? So, I'm not sure why he'd want me there. Actually, I'm not sure why you're taking me there instead of, you know, skinning me yourself."

"Something I've been asking myself since you woke up and started talking."

"Always such a kidder. But seriously."

"Well, you see, I like having an independent existence," said Skulker, "and that takes money and resources. Besides, I can always hunt you again after this. You'll be even more of a challenge!"

"Why will I be more of a challenge in Vlad's stupid lair? You know he's just going to try and clone and replace me again."

Skulker snorted.

"How do you even do that in a robot suit?"

"That's for me to know and you to never find out."

They came to a stop in front of a purple door decorated with elaborate gold inlay.

"Ugh, he's so pretentious," complained Danny, covering up the fact that his heart was currently beating out of his chest.

Skulker knocked on the door, which immediately flew open, revealing Vlad as Plasmius.

"Wow, were you waiting for us at the door? Needy much?"

Vlad looked down his nose at Danny. "I don't expect you to understand, Daniel. Yet."

"Do you practice being ominous in the mirror? I think you'd benefit from improv classes. More feedback from real people. I'd say get it from your friends but- Ow!" Danny yelped as Vlad hit him with a miniature ectoblast.

"You'll receive your payment in the usual way," said Vlad, blandly.

"Great," said Skulker. "Have fun, whelp."

Danny struggled reflexively as Skulker handed the net over. It didn't do any good. The door to Vlad's lair shut with a definitive thud.

"Whatever you're planning," said Danny, "you aren't going to get away with it."

"I daresay I already have, son."

"I'm not your son, fruitloop," hissed Danny. (The Plasmius Maximus might have rendered his ghost half dormant, but that didn't mean it was gone, or that he didn't retain behaviors learned from it in all forms.)

"Hm," said Vlad. He touched the back of Danny's neck through the net, then traced over his skin to the edge of his jaw, which he forced up so Danny had to twist uncomfortably, his hair catching in the net.

Danny scratched at the hand, but of course Vlad was, as always, wearing those thick gloves, and Danny's fingernails were currently very human and blunt.

"You're a feral little thing, aren't you?" He pushed Danny's neck into a position that was actively painful without the benefit of ghostly flexibility. "Not for long, though, I should think."

Without another word, he strode off into the depths of his lair.

Vlad's lair was much like his mortal residences. Vampire meets football fan meets dramatic gothic romance that missed the point. If Danny had access to his ghost half, he suspected he'd be able to feel Vlad's ectosignature permeating the ectoplasm in the air to an oppressive degree.

As it was, the heat was bad enough. His body had long since offloaded the task of cooling to his ghost half, and was having some trouble remembering how to act.

"Here we are," said Vlad, stopping in front of an especially fancy door. He opened it, and threw Danny in, then closed the door without entering.

Danny, a bit confused by this turn of events, took stock of his surroundings. The door had smoothed out into a tapestry-covered wall. The room was lit only by ectoplasmic glow and felt oddly... soft. All surfaces were upholstered with ornate, green and gold embroidered cloth. There were many pillows, but no hard furniture.

Also, the ectoplasm in the air was so thick it almost felt like Danny was underwater and so charged with energy his hair was standing on end. Even with his ghost half thoroughly zapped by the Plasmius Maximus, it was making Danny feel a little tipsy. If his ghost half had been active at all, he would have been blissed out and essentially immobile as he involuntarily gorged himself.

He shuddered at the thought. The energy here was probably very Vlad, not to mention putting Danny into that state was probably Vlad's plan.

Which, Danny decided, was the most disturbing part of all of this. Small doses of energized ectoplasm acted like side-effect free energy drinks for Danny. Sufficiently large doses, or prolonged exposure to high-energy ectoplasm, however, acted like a euphoric and a depressant for reasons Danny didn't understand. Since this didn't seem to be the case for any other ghosts he'd encountered, Danny had chosen to keep it quiet.

This meant that either Vlad had the same problem, and it was a halfa thing (no evidence, plus, if that was the case he'd have a hard time getting Danny out of here... assuming he'd eventually want to do that), or he'd been putting spy cams in Fentonworks again (historical precedent).

Either way, it meant that Danny had a time limit. Once the Plasmius Maximus wore off, it was limp noodle time for Danny.

He squirmed until he found the tied-shut opening of the net. As opposed to the structural knots, this would probably be easier to deal with.

... of course Skulker was also good at tying knots, darn it.

Eventually, with slightly raw fingertips, Danny crawled out of the net. Now what? The room had no doors.

If he had been in the larger Ghost Zone, he could walk through walls as a human with little effort, convincing unattached structures to go intangible around him through force of will. Even Walker's Prison, that he claimed and maintained, could be cajoled.

Lairs were different. Lairs were tied to the wills of their ghosts. Unless the power levels of the ghost in question was vastly beneath your own, attempting to fight a ghost in their lair was futile.

Getting this room to let him out would be hard.

But maybe not impossible.

Thing was, lairs were tied to their ghosts' wills. Not their brains.

(And Vlad wasn't the brightest guy to begin with.)

Danny put on his 'acting' face. "Wow, I sure love unkie Vwad~"

.

After several long, excruciatingly embarrassing minutes of monologuing about how awesome Vlad was and how cool it would be if he let him out, Danny was able to push through the wall into the corridor outside.

Embarrassing for Vlad, that is. Even having done it on purpose, Danny was still rather surprised that Vlad fell for it.

Okay. Now, all he had to do was find the door out, and assuming that Vlad's lair wasn't one that shuffled itself internally all the time...

There!

It wasn't even locked.

He dove through the door and out into the Ghost Zone, not caring that he couldn't fly in human form. Falling was fine. It was fast. There wasn't anything for him to hit.

Well...

He was inching closer to terminal velocity now.

It was mostly fine.

How long ago had he been hit by the Plasmius Maximus?

.

Far away in a very different lair, Clockwork smiled fondly at Daniel's antics. Plasmius, Plasmius, Plasmius. Didn't he know that he'd never get anywhere like that?

Clockwork set his chin on his fist as he watched Daniel fall and gently nudged various real world debris out of his path. He had a room like that in his lair as well, infinitely more suitable, waiting for Daniel. Waiting for the right time.

And, as Master of Time, Clockwork was sure it would come soon.

[genshin-garbage]

Regret and the Truth

Lumine falls for the distant alchemist, Albedo, but he doesn’t realize his feelings until it’s too late. He hurts her in a way he can’t undo and regret settles in his heart. Regret can be ignored for a while, but it always comes back.

When Lumine first saw the alchemist, her first thought was that he was really pretty. When they officially met, she found the rumors about his coldness to be unfounded. He was quite pleasant to work with and engaged in conversation avidly. Albedo wasn’t shy about asking questions about her nature as a traveler of worlds, and was curious about her biology. She initially chalked this up to being about his research, but as the questions became more and more personal, she couldn’t help but be curious about him in turn.

Over time, their talks started to resemble normal conversations people have to get to know each other. Questions like: what are your hobbies and what’s your hometown like. Lumine eventually forgot how insatiable his curiosity really is and came to consider him a close friend, later even developing feelings for him. She went to visit his camp on Dragonspine whenever she was free, and when she had to stop by the Knights of Favonius headquarters she always asked if he was there.

It didn’t take long for most of the knights to realize Lumine’s crush, Klee especially was excited as she wanted to see the honorary knight be happy with her big brother. Aside from Klee, the knights generally supported her. A few who were closer to Albedo however, were a bit hesitant and tried to steer her away from him. Sucrose and Timaus in particular tried to tell Lumine about his one-track mind, and how he has a hard time understanding normal emotions. However, Lumine’s feelings couldn’t be stopped and those who were reluctant do eventually stop trying to sway her.

There came a day when Lumine had finally worked up the courage to confess her feelings with the support of her friends (and maybe a little bit of alcohol). It was sunset and Albedo had been collecting research materials in Dragonspine, she was a bit tipsy and waiting for him in his lab.

“Hm? Lumine? What are you doing here?”

“Albedo I, I need to tell you something.”

“Yes?”

Lumine approaches him, she was too nervous to look him in the eyes. “I, I like you a lot!”

“Hmm, I see. Then I wonder…” He leans over and kisses her. Lumine doesn’t kiss back out of surprise but quickly leans into the kiss. Their hands roam each other's bodies as they kiss, feet taking them to the couch nearby. As Albedo lays her down on the sofa, he kisses her down her neck and leads the night in a more passionate direction.

Lumine wakes up naked next to Albedo. Her head stung a little but she remembers clearly what had transpired. She blushes hard, she felt there was a possibility of Albedo returning her affections but she didn’t expect the night to turn in that direction. It felt good though and she doesn’t regret it. He never properly said he liked her back however, which irked her a bit, but there was still time. She feels Albedo stir below her, one hand moving from her waist to rub the sleepiness out of his eyes.

“Mhmmm, good morning.” He sits up carefully so as to not push her off the couch.

“Good- good morning.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I feel great. A bit sore but I really enjoyed last night.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary? No changes anywhere?”

“No?” She hesitated, dread washing over her. “Last night, you never really told me how you felt.”

“About that, I don’t want you to misinterpret my actions. I was merely curious about your biology and how your kind reacts to romantic interest, nothing more. Perhaps if the results were different we could have continued this charade a bit longer, but they turned out to be the same as any average person in Teyvat.” He reaches over to grab his shirt from the floor. “Please excuse me, I have work to do and I must record the data from this experiment.”

Lumine shifted off him but remained silent, tears began to well up in her eyes as she felt her heart be torn to shreds by every word that came out of his mouth. To him she was nothing more than an experiment, a specimen in his research to find the truth to this world. She was had, used, and now was being discarded as if she was nothing. “So last night, my confession, it all meant nothing to you? All those times you called me beautiful, was it all a lie?”

“No, not entirely. You are attractive and your company is pleasant enough.” He puts on his clothing as he speaks, his tone disinterested and his face neutral. It was clear he didn’t care what happened next or how Lumine felt. “However, beyond my research I don’t feel the need to be anymore than acquaintances. It was simply convenient to use your attraction to get a better idea of how you work.”

“I see.” Her voice cracked and Albedo turned to look at her. Tears fell down her cheeks and a fake smile plastered on her face as she put on her clothing. “I’m- I’m glad that I was at least some use to you. I, uh, I need to go. Paimon must be wondering where I am. Goodbye.”

She rushes out the door leaving a surprised Albedo alone in the lab. While he did expect her to be upset, he didn’t expect her to still treat him with such kindness. He expected her to beat him screaming at him for playing with her emotions. He felt a tinge of regret before smothering it, there wasn’t time for regret in the pursuit of knowledge. It was a necessary step in getting the data he needed. Still, the hurt expression lingered in his mind as he planned out his new routine until the people of Mondtstadt forgot about this incident.

The next few weeks, Lumine was emotionally absent. It was hard not to notice how she robotically went through commissions, taking more of them as well as bounties. Paimon noticed that what little sleep she did get on a daily basis was cut from her schedule, and that she had started eating less. Whenever anyone asked what was wrong, she would always say that she was fine. They knew it had something to do with Albedo, but he was more elusive than usual. He was the last to come and first to leave during meetings, all of his experiments now took place in Dragonspine, and his time spent babysitting Klee was now spent studying the area around Star Snatched Cliff.

One night, they had finally had enough and managed to convince Diluc to let Lumine drink in hopes that some alcohol in her system would finally get her to tell them what was wrong. He agreed, and so Lisa, Jean, and Amber took Lumine out on a girls night out while Diluc manned the bar.

Lisa was the first to prod after Lumine was decently drunk. “So Lumine, What happened between you and Albedo? You haven’t asked about him in a long while. Did your confession not go well?”

“He- he doesn’t like me in that way. I’m nothing but a specimen in his research.” Lumine takes another long sip of her drink. “He said it himself, ‘beyond my research I don’t feel the need to become anything beyond acquaintances’.”

“I have a feeling that if he had simply rejected you, you wouldn’t be this upset.” Jean stated. “Something else happened between you two. You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to, but as your friends we want to help you in any way we can.”

“Yeah! Like Jean said! We all hate seeing you all mopey and sad! If Albedo did anything to you I’ll make it my personal mission to set Barron Bunny on him!” Amber added, crossing her arms to exaggerate her point.

Lumine, touched by their words, and incredibly hammered at this point, began to cry. “Tha-thank you guys. I- after I confessed we spent the night together, it was consensual and I enjoyed it, but the morning after he admitted that he only slept with me as part of his research. I- I really thought he liked me back, but he used me! I feel like there’s something wrong with me! I feel so dumb for falling for him, Sucrose and Timaus even warned me! Am I just not good enough? I thought I had a chance, but I was so foolish for thinking I was good enough. Why would he fall for someone like me? I’m nothing but an outlander!”

The rest of her words become unintelligible babble and wails. Amber held her in a tight hug as she bawled her eyes out. Looks were shared between the three women and Diluc as a roaring rage began to burn in their eyes. How dare he use Lumine like this. How dare he play with her feelings, then cast her aside like a toy. Any sort of respect they had for the alchemist beyond his genius had dissipated in the wind.

It wasn’t long before everyone in Mondstadt knew what had happened. He found the increased difficulty in obtaining items in shops and finding people to assist him irritating but not unexpected. He didn’t care about the glares from adults, but the questions from Klee did sting.

“What did big brother do to big sis Lumine to hurt her feelings? Klee can go get Jean and see if she can help big brother make up with Lumine!”

“It’s ok Klee, I’m sure Jean and Lumine have better things to do.”

“But-”

“Klee, it's fine. How about you go play outside.”

“Ok…”

As Klee exited the lab, Sucrose came in. She had an anxious look and was fidgeting. “Master Albedo? Do you have a moment? I wish to speak to you about something.”

“Very well, what is it Sucrose?”

“Why- why did you do that to Lumine? There were other ways to get the data you wanted without hurting her. So why did you do it?”

“It was simply the most convenient way at the time, and the data I collected was easier to analyze since I didn’t have to rely on a third party. It was simply easier to get objective information.”

Sucrose clearly didn’t like that answer as her body tensed up and her face had a hurt expression. “I see. I’ll leave you be then. I won’t be available to assist you for a while. I hope your research was worth Lumine’s pain.”

She stormed off in a quiet rage and left Albedo alone in the lab. He seemed to be alone more, he attributed it to the lack of hands helping him but he knew deep down it was because Lumine wasn’t there anymore. For the second time, regret flared up in his heart before he smothers it again. If loneliness was a consequence of getting closer to the truth, then he shall make himself the loneliest man alive.

The month after the confrontation with Sucrose, he overhears that the traveler had returned from Liyue with someone. He pays this no mind until he sees her with the man himself. An ugly feeling rears its head as he sees her laughing and smiling with a green haired man. If Albedo hadn’t been so observant he would have thought the man to be annoyed by her presence, but he notices how soft his eyes look at her and how he stands in a position ready to protect her if anything were to suddenly happen. When the man pulls a fallen leaf out of her hair, the ugly feeling grips harder.

Before he can stop, he realizes that he’s walking towards them. It’s too late to turn around as they notice him. “Welcome back, Lumine. May I ask who this is?”

Lumine shifts uncomfortably in place, she turns to hide herself a little. “Oh, uh, hello. This is Xiao, Xiao this is Albedo.”

“Is he the one you’ve spoken about in the past?” Xiao’s expression has lost its softness as he looks at Albedo.

Lumine hesitates to answer the question, nervous of his reaction. “Yes… yes he is.” She grabs his arm when she sees him tense up. “Please don’t do anything, it’s in the past. I just want to forget it happened.”

“Hmph, fine.”

“I shall take my leave. Enjoy your stay in Mondstadt and a pleasure to meet you Xiao.”

“I cannot say likewise.” He growls.

As Albedo walks away, he sees in the reflection of a store window that Lumine had kissed Xiao on the cheek.  Flustered Xiao turns away, but not without holding her hand in return.

“That could have been me.” The thought stakes its claim in his mind. As much as he tries and tries, he can’t smother the feeling of regret in his heart. He loves Lumine, but he hurt her, and now he can never have her. When he turned into his lab, he sunk down onto his knees and truly let the feeling sink in. He was a genius but clearly he still had much to learn, he just wished he had realized sooner what his teacher truly meant when she told him to learn the truth to this world.

He closed his eyes and hoped that if he were to ever be reborn he wouldn’t make the same mistake again, then let the darkness consume him.

[jonspurpleskirt]

Sharing Comfort

A/N: This is for @archivalpride. Prompt was “Sharing Clothes” and “Pre-Canon” so I wrote a fluffy piece to celebrate the quiet moments of trust. 1.7k in word length. No warnings apply.

___

Jon did not make friends fast. Most people he found to be too intimidating, boring or exhausting and not many knew what to do with his sudden info dumps and sharp comments that shot out of his mouth seemingly at random.

He'd been alone in Research for a long while because of it and happily so. Things had changed when Tim had joined the Institute, though. Tim had come into the library and sat down opposite Jon with a thunder cloud hanging over his head and pain in his dark eyes. He'd been quiet and snappy in a fake cheerful way that screamed undealt trauma. At least to Jon, who seemed to be the only one to feel the vibes of "Leave me alone" and "I'm grieving" that Tim gave off in a constant stream.

Having Tim as his desk partner was an intense experience despite the way they only ever nodded to each other in greeting at first. But it was also intriguing. A mystery. Jon loved mysteries.

The instances he had ever willingly initiated a conversation with a stranger could be counted on one hand. Which marked the day he tapped Tims shoulder - after roughly two months of co-habiting - to tactfully ask him what he was groaning about as a very special day indeed. They steamrolled into friendship from there, both personalities clashing in the best ways possible.

Jon pulled Tim into nerve wracking research expeditions, Tim flirted them out of being arrested a few times, they went out for drinks and karaoke and movies and stayed late nights to crack nutty cases of supernatural bullshit together.

This went on for months. A nice, comfortable new routine. Jon wasn't alone anymore. And Tim broke out of whatever had pulled him down so much, becoming more cheerful and flirty by the day. Which didn't matter to Jon because Tim would always come to him the most, would always seek out to partner up with Jon and would defend his prickly personality to his dying breath.

And then Sasha joined them. She came from Artefact Storage, which made her a prime target for every curious researcher in a five mile radius. Tim and Jon included. Alright maybe they were the worst of the bunch.

Although Jon only thought of himself as a partner in crime in this one. He had been dragged along by Tim, after all. Sure in the end he had been the one to ask the most questions, but that wouldn't have been the case if he had just been left alone to be antisocial in front of his laptop.

Sasha and Tim, much to Jons chargin, hit it off within the first few seconds. And ever since then their cozy two-someness had turned into a group effort. With specially leverage put on the word "effort".

"Morning Jon!"

Jon let out a deep, rumbly hum, voice not up to the task of supporting words this late in the- He glanced at the little clock at the bottom of his screen. Ah... early in the morning.

With a laugh that was far too cheerful however you would describe the current hour, Sasha sat down next to him. She leaned in to look at what he was working. He leaned away to get her out of his personal bubble.

Her legs brushed his and the rustling drew his gaze downward. She wore a thick wool skirt, long enough not to go against the dress code. It was a somewhat dull navy blue and fell down in enticing waves around her crossed legs.

It looked very soft and comfortable. Jon itched to touch it. Instead he rubbed against the stiff fabric of his own cream coloured dress pants.

"Would you mind?" He snapped at her.

"No. You spelled 'aboriginal' wrong."

"Thank you for your insight. Don't you have anywhere else to be?"

"Don't you?" She shot back, light and quick as though they were just bantering and not fighting over the right to sit at this table.

Sasha huffed at his glare and slid a cup of something steaming over to him. "You keep staying so late that I can buy you a drink at the asscrack of dawn and be sure you're still here to consume it hot. I'm not usually one to judge anyone's sleep schedule. But I'm judging your sleep schedule."

"And yours is any better?" Jon muttered, taking the offering and peeking inside. Black tea with a bit of cream and hopefully enough sugar to rot his teeth out of his mouth. He needed both the coffein and the sweet energy source.

"I'm getting at least two more hours of sleep than you do on a daily basis, so I'm good."

"Tim would have both of our heads if he knew."

Sasha put her hand on the table and stretched out her pinky. "I swear secrecy if you do."

With a snort Jon linked their pinkies. "I'll hold you to that."

So... Maybe Sasha wasn't that bad. She was a little aggressive in her befriending techniques, Jon mused. At least he hoped the early morning chats and cups of tea and coffee were that and not an elaborate plan to get rid of him via slow poisoning. But she was about as curious as Tim and Jon and her skills with computers were very happily exploited by the both of them. So Jon eventually had to admit that she was actually a very nice addition to the group.

Not that he could have ever said no to their friendship. Tim and Sasha put together were a maelstorm of affection, sucking Jon in with a force he had no chance to defend against. And before he knew it they had successfully gotten him accostumed to friday nights at the pub and saturday mornings in their flats, smashed together on a couch or a bed or a mattress depending on who had had the misfortune of playing host that week.

Jon hadn't been this comfortable since Georgie. And that wasn't only the booze talking. It was one of those nights where they ended up leaving the pub early to lounge around Sashas massive sofa instead. Jons head was swimming within a blissful haze of tipsiness.

He was slouching over one end of the couch, head tilted just so that he could watch his two friends bicker. The words didn't really register, but the noise was nice and their expressions were funny.

Without his conscious saying so, his gaze slid down to Sashas leg area. She wore a very eye catching, fluttery red skirt this time around and the way the warm glow of the ceiling lamp was reflected in the material was mesmerizing.

"Oh Jonny boy, don't you know staring like that is rude?" Tim half-joked as he noticed.

Sasha slapped him on the shoulder. "Shush you there's like zero sexual longing in his gaze, Tim. You don't need to go all protective big brother on me. He just really likes my skirts."

"They look comfy." Jon muttered, sinking deeper into the couch.

"Awww. Jon. Jon my love. My friend. My buddy." Tim scooted over to him, nearly face planting on the floor in his eagerness to slide into Jons side. "Is this jealousy I hear?"

"No. Did you just degrade me from lover to lowest friendship tier?"

"Oh I beg to differ." Tim sang, ignoring the question and making Jon scowl harder.

An arm got thrown over his shoulder and Jon was tugged into Tims side, relaxing into the tight hold against his will.

"You know if you didn't make it a sport to buy the most uncomfortable clothing ever, you wouldn't need to glare at Sashas fashion choices all the time. Making other people think things about your intensions."

"Fuck other people."

Jon waited until the surprised laughter of his two friends ebbed down to speak again. "I wanna be comfortable too..."

"Say no more. Sasha to the rescue."

Tim and Jon both whined as she hopped off and darted away into her bedroom. She hadn't been part of the cuddle pile, but her presence was still dearly missed. Thankfully not for long because a few minutes later she reappeared with a long, purple skirt.

"Here you go mister. Go on try it on."

Trading places with her Jon didn't hesitate to shug his trousers off and slip the skirt on. Tim wolf whistled behind him and Jon dutifully showed him a finger. The yelp he heard shortly after told him that Sasha must have taken more direct approach to disciplining Tim.

"Bad boy. I picked that colour for a reason."

Jon flushed at the reminder that Tim and Sasha knew. That they knew and accepted him and even went out of their way to make him comfortable.

"I may not be allowed to touch, but I can still appreciate beauty when I see it."

"Do you need glasses, Tim?" Jon couldn't help but ask while he settled back down.

It was his turn to be slapped on the shoulder. "Nu-uh! No self depricating jokes in my household!"

"Yes ma'am." He scooted over to Sashas side, marveling at the slide of the soft material against his legs. "Anyway. Touching yes. But no sex, only cuddles."

Sasha laughed in delight as she pulled him closer so he could stretch out, the two of them nearly shoving Tim off the couch.

"Wait, wait, wait Jon you're definitely not comfortable yet!"

"Hm?" He frowned at the renewed shifting, jeez everyone was being so squirmy today.

"Dress shirt? Really? Wait a sec."

Tim ended up finding a truly attrocious night shirt he had stored in one of Sashas cupboards. It was rainbow coloured, but at least it was made of a soft cotton and about a size too big on Jon.

"Awww Jon you're adorable!"

"Timothy Stoker don't you dare take a photo."

"Fine, fine. But I will remember this day forever."

It turned out that he didn't need to. The next time they were over at Sashas Jon asked to borrow their clothes again and the next time after, and the next time after that, too. It kind of escalated from there, clothes mixed together until it was hard to remember who owned what.

And that was perfect. Because the most comfortable clothes were always the ones that belonged to his friends.

[xofanfics]

Without Warning - Part III

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Genre: angst, slight fluff

Pairing: Reader x Mark ft. Doyoung

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: You and Doyoung had the best summer you could. Now that he’s hundreds of miles away in college, you have to go through senior year alone. You meet Mark at a time when Doyoung is making you feel like you’re single.

Lucas took the liberty of pouring the vodka and the juice into everyone’s cups. He was no bartender but he knew that he should only put a little bit of vodka. The vodka to juice ratio had to be just right in order to ensure that no one ended up on their ass tonight. 

He hadn’t seen any of his friends drunk before and, he had to admit, he was a little excited. He looked around the room, wondering who would be the most fun and interesting when they were drunk. Phil was calm, cool and collected one hundred percent of the time. Lucas thought that it might be interesting if he had some liquor in him. Amber was a fiesty one and he was sure that that wouldn’t change even after a drink or two. You were fun to be around, as far as he knew. He could understand why his best friend had a crush on you. Lucas’ eyes landed on Mark, who was talking to Phil about the soccer team at school. With Mark so wrapped up in the conversation, Lucas poured a little extra vodka in Mark’s cup. Maybe, with a little liquid courage, he could confess his feelings for you. 

When he finished pouring, Lucas’ eyes and yours met unexpectedly. You’d seen what he did and he grinned. You laughed but didn’t say anything. And later, after everyone started taking their first sips, Mark twisted his face with disgust. He stuck his tongue out, sending you into a frenzy of giggles. He coughed, in shock at how strong the drink was. He didn’t expect the drink to taste like a piña colada or anything but he also didn’t expect it to taste like hydrogen peroxide either. 

“Jeez,” said Mark, clearing his throat. “Did you pour all the vodka in here?”

Lucas laughed. “I might’ve been a little heavy handed…”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Anyway, is anyone hungry? We got a bunch of snacks the other day.” Mark left the living room and went into the kitchen, coming back with two bags of chips and a jar of salsa. “God, I should be on the beach in Mexico eating chips and salsa.”

Amber said, “Let your parents enjoy their vacation. I’m sure your mom would not want you around while she’s trying to get a birthday present from your dad.”

“Oh my God,” said Mark. “Please! Stop. I do not need that image in my head.”

Amber shrugged, grinning, and took a sip from her drink. You followed, feeling the liquor slide down your throat with that warm feeling that landed in the pit of your stomach. 

You only drank a few times in your life, usually with Doyoung, Amber, and Phil. The four of you would go to Doyoung’s house and steal random liquor from the bar. His dad rarely drank but he liked to collect bottles of whiskey, bourbon, and things of that nature. His mom never drank but Doyoung always used to say that sometimes his dad would let him drink with him if he came downstairs late enough at night, when he was having a drink while he read. No one ever seemed to notice the liquor supply getting low.

You never got too drunk; it was always a feeling of being tipsy over anything else. You felt light, airy, and giggly at the time. It was Doyoung, if anything, who would sometimes go overboard the times you did drink—especially around the time that he was working on his college applications. And, granted, it was a stressful time but you always made sure to be there for him. You’d been there during some of his lowest moments. There’d been times where he broke down into tears in your arms. You’d seen him at his most vulnerable state, face red and swollen from crying on his bathroom floor. And, looking back, it hurt you to even think about it. Hell, it was why this breakup was killing you in the first place. 

Amber waved her hand in front of your face. “Hello? Earth to Y/N!”

“Hm?”

“We’re about to play circle of death...and you have no choice but to play. Now pick a card.”

Mark noticed you take a huge gulp from your drink and added, “We’re probably going to drink a lot from this game. I wouldn’t drink too much.”

“I can handle myself, Mark,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. You took a deep breath. “I don’t even feel anything yet.” You scooted closer to the table, next to Phil. “Now, somebody teach me how to play this stupid game.”

*

Mark had only been drunk once in his life, in front of his crush a couple months ago. It’d been a disaster, as far as he recalled, at his best friend’s birthday party. He spent the last hour of the party sick and throwing up in the bathroom with his best friend rubbing his back. He set out to drink just to take the edge off, to make him feel a little more confident and to have the courage to make a move on his crush. But he drank, not knowing his limits back then. 

He was talking to his crush for the majority of the night until he started feeling a little dizzy. He excused himself and threw up as soon as he made it to the toilet. A moment later, his best friend came in to check on him. Mark was in there for a while and his crush even came to the door looking for Mark. His friend pretty much explained to the girl that Mark had a little too much and would be out soon. 

Mark had had the audacity to ask her to come with him and, here he was, throwing up all the alcohol he’d drank. Mark hadn’t understood how alcohol worked back then. People didn’t get drunk right away. They got drunk over time and when it didn’t hit him, he assumed it wasn’t working and decided to drink more. That was his mistake. 

“Is she still outside?” Mark had asked some time later when his friend came back to check on him, hoping that maybe she’d stuck around.

And his friend shook his head, much to his disappointment. “Pretty much everyone went home.”

Later, she’d texted him. I guess I’ll see you at school on Monday…

Just when Mark thought he could pursue her as the school year was coming to an end, he got the news that they’d be moving. Long story short, things didn’t get very far and she was now a distant memory. 

He didn’t think he’d crush on anyone at his new school but that changed quickly, once he met you. You didn’t even do anything specific to make him like you. All you did was...exist. It wasn’t like you flirted with him or hugged him for too long or anything that could’ve sparked an interest. Things between you were strictly platonic, yet he found himself thinking of you more often than he should think of someone he was just friends with. He thought you were the prettiest girl in the school, even among a thousand others. In a room full of a hundred, his eyes would immediately shift toward you.

He loved the way your eyes shone when you were excited and the way you laughed about absolutely nothing. And the way you scrunched your nose when you were concentrating. He loved seeing you half asleep and yawning at the bus stop when he met you in the morning. He loved going home with you in the afternoons and always had the urge to take your hand in his and walk together. He had fantasized more than once about you being his but he knew that it wasn’t realistic right now.

Even though you were drunk, he still liked you the same. Mark was feeling numb and, apparently, so were you. He could tell just by looking at you. And apparently, you’d spoken too soon about not feeling anything yet. Fifteen minutes after you started playing the card game, you’d started to feel the effects of the shitty vodka and fruit punch. You felt like you were floating on clouds and Mark could see it in your eyes.

Later on, the doorbell rang and the girl Lucas was interested in showed up. Everyone had met her a few times, when Lucas brought her over to the table to walk to class together just before the bell rang. Her name was Marina and from what Mark could see, she liked him. Lucas wouldn’t admit it and always said that they weren’t together when they clearly had some feelings for each other. Mark didn’t want to end up like that. Again, he wondered if it was obvious that he liked you. The last thing he wanted was to feel like a hopeless loser with a crush that would never go anywhere.

“UNO!” you shouted, standing up. You stumbled a little as you stood and Mark chuckled at you losing your balance. 

He said, “Whoa, be careful!”

“I’m not that drunk, Mark, come on.”

He smiled at your drunken smirk as he mumbled, “Yeah right.”

“Hey! Are you talking shit about me, Mark?”

He put his hands up. “I’m not!”

You eyed him suspiciously before you plopped down next to him on the floor, situating yourself between Phil and Mark. “Come on, what’d you say? Tell me!” You were pouting and poking him in the chest. Mark found himself staring at you, at your perfect fingers and your drunken gaze. Mark couldn’t help but stare at your lips, wondering what it’d be like to kiss them, to feel them on his. Were they soft? Was the lipgloss you were wearing the kind of lipgloss to be sticky? Would it come off right away if he kissed you or would it act as a barrier between your lips and his? Mark was tempted to kiss you but, of course, he couldn’t do that. Hell, he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to have the chance to do something like that with you. That kind of scenario would just have to stay in his head. 

With a sigh, he looked away from you and back to his reality. “I’m just making sure you don’t get too drunk. I’m just looking out for you, okay? So don’t drink anymore...or at least wait a bit…”

You pouted again. Then Marina shouted, “Uno!”

You groaned as Lucas slammed a green card onto the coffee table. Unfortunately, you didn’t have the number or the color. But, luckily, Amber threw down a yellow card. And, in victory, you slammed your card down, ending the game. You shouted, “Yesssss! I win!”

*

Mark wasn’t sure how they ended up on the topic of Doyoung and your breakup but it came up somehow. That was the last thing Mark wanted to hear about, given his seemingly futile feelings for you. That stupid guy didn’t deserve your thoughts, your time, your feelings. He’d ruined it the second he decided that you weren’t important to him. The thought made Mark angry. How could he treat someone as amazing as you were as badly as he did?

“He can kiss my ass,” you’d been saying, downing the rest of whatever was in your cup. “I hope he’s having a good time in New York. Hmph!”

Marina said, “It doesn’t sound like you want him to have a good time…”

You let out a laugh. “You’re right. I don’t. I hope, um...I hope he’s failing all his classes, I hope he gets strep throat, I hope someone spills cheap liquor on his stupid Veja sneakers he likes so much, I hope he doesn’t get laid at all—”

“That’s very specific,” said Lucas, chuckling. The rest of the group laughed at your sudden outburst. You were usually fairly calm unless something happened to piss you off. Your ex boyfriend happened to be one of the things that pissed you off; it was definitely a topic that could be a little explosive. 

After your outburst, everyone went back to deciding if they should play another game or if they should call it a night and hang out again tomorrow. 

While your friends decided, you were trying your best to hold your feelings in. The thought of Doyoung made your blood boil still. You thought that you’d be over it but you hadn’t really had any closure. There was never an apology for what he did. There wasn’t much acknowledgment for what he did. Did he even know the specific reason why you were angry with him or was he just that fucking dumb? No, you thought. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You wanted to give him a piece of your mind, you decided. You wanted to get back at him somehow and you figured the best way to do that was to show him that you could have a good time without his presence, too.

Suddenly, Mark heard a very familiar FaceTime sound echoing through the living room. No one else seemed to notice, since he was playing music on the tv. 

Amber noticed though. She raised her eyebrows as she turned to you. “Y/N...who are you calling?”

Mark heard a voice on the other end say, “Y/N?”

Amber and Phil’s eyes both widened in horror. “What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?”

You stood up, strolling toward the kitchen to avoid Amber’s death glare, Phil’s look of concern, and Mark, Lucas, and Marina’s curious, yet confused eyes. 

You chuckled, mostly to yourself. “Wow, you answered my call and know my name?”

“Are you drunk right now?”

“I am...and I feel great.”

“I wanna talk to you...seriously.”

“What is there to ta—”

You were interrupted mid-sentence when Amber rushed over toward you. “Hang up!”

“He said he wants to talk!” you said, running into the living room and diving onto the couch. 

“We worked so hard through this, Y/N!” she said, chasing you back into the living room. “Don’t go back on what you said now!”

“Be reasonable, Y/N,” said Phil, frowning after you.

Lucas raised his eyebrows. “Are you drunk calling your ex right now?”

“Yes,” you said, “I am.” You held up the phone. “Catch!” you said, throwing the phone toward Lucas.

Lucas, with his quick reflexes, caught it in his hands. He waved to Doyoung, who had apparently stayed on the line with all the chaos on your end. “Y/N can’t come to the phone right now,” he said, ending the call. He went to Doyoung’s contact and blocked it again.

“Thank God,” said Phil, relief sweeping over him. 

There goes that pout again, Mark thought. 

You rolled your eyes as Amber pried your phone from Lucas’ hands. “You’re losing your phone privileges for the night.” And Amber rolled her eyes as her own phone vibrated in her hand. “Doyoung, just stop. No, I’m not giving her the phone. We’re doing just fine over here and I don’t need you to fuck that up—”

“Go fuck yourself, Doyoung!” you shouted, hopefully loud enough for your ex to hear.

“Anyway,” said Amber, “I’m hanging up. Don’t call back.”

“Not to interrupt,” said Lucas, as Amber pressed the end button on her screen. “but my sister is here to pick us up, Rina.” He glanced over at Amber and Phil. “Do you guys need a ride, too? I’m sure my sister won’t mind.”

“That’d actually be amazing,” said Amber, putting her hands on her hips.

All of your friends stood up and started cleaning up the garbage on the coffee table. You helped, too. And within five minutes, the living room was back to the way it was when you arrived. You and Mark bid your friends goodbye and Mark had your phone safely tucked into your pocket, at least until you’d calmed down and weren’t at risk of unblocking your ex. It was a little after eleven, you realized. And you were sort of sleepy, but didn’t want to go to bed just yet.

“Did you have fun?” Mark asked, as the two of you stood in the kitchen for a minute. 

You nodded. “Yeah. Do you wanna hang out at my house for a little bit? I don’t wanna be alone.”

Mark’s heart fluttered and he gave you a small smile. “Yeah.” He grabbed his keys off the coffee table and followed you into your apartment. It was a little stuffy, you noticed, as you closed the door behind the two of you. You turned the air on, adjusting the thermostat. 

Mark sat on the couch and, a moment later, you joined him. “Do you want something to drink or anything?”

Mark said, “You should probably drink a little more water if you don’t want a hangover in the morning.” As you stood up, he put his hand out. “It’s okay. I’ll get it. You should rest.”

You smiled as you watched Mark go into the kitchen, get two glasses, and pour water from the Brita. Mark was such a genuine guy and you were grateful that you had made such a good friend, one that was willing to take care of you when you were drunk. You weren’t wasted but you definitely felt the alcohol pumping through your veins.

Mark came back, handing you the glass before sitting on the couch next to you. He watched you as you drank it. “Do you feel okay?” He took a few sips from his own glass.

You nodded, taking another sip. There was silence for a moment; the only sounds you could hear were the gulps from drinking water and the sound of the air conditioning coming from the vent. It wasn’t awkward to you but it felt awkward for Mark. You turned toward him and said, “Am I really that undesirable, Mark?”

“Of course not.” Mark frowned, putting his glass down on the side table. “Why do you ask that?”

You laid back onto the couch with a sigh. “I dunno. It’s just like I thought things were fine with Doyoung and it turns out I wasn’t as important to him as I thought I was…It feels like the whole relationship was a lie.”

“You’re not undesirable.”

“Are you just saying that because you’re my friend?”

Mark shook his head. “Of course not. You’re an amazing girl and you’re more than that relationship or what he put you through. There’s nothing wrong with you, I promise.”

You stared at Mark for longer than you should have. You had never looked at him like this before. You studied him for a moment, taking in his features. Mark wasn’t an ugly guy; he never was. But you supposed you’d been so wrapped up in the breakup and befriending Mark that you never considered what it’d be like to look at him as, maybe, more than just a friend. Mark was attractive and, maybe, it was the liquor talking, but you were curious about him.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” 

Mark didn’t know how to answer that. Not to be dramatic, but he thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d seen in a long time. He wondered why you were asking him all of these questions right now. Was it because you were drunk? Did you just feel a little insecure because your ex became a topic of conversation tonight? Were all those memories popping up and making you feel bad?

“Of course,” said Mark.

You scooted closer to him, so close that you could feel his breath against your skin. 

“What are you doing?” Mark asked. In this moment, he felt excited yet confused.

“I don’t know,” you answered. “I kinda wanna kiss you…”

Mark’s eyes widened. “You w-what?”

“I want to kiss you.” Your eyes never left his when you said it and it was making Mark kind of excited...down there. He just hoped that you didn’t notice. How pathetic was it to get a hard on when all you were doing was making eye contact with him? “Can I kiss you right now?”

Mark searched your eyes for answers. “Do you really mean that, Y/N?”

You nodded, leaning in. Your lips pressed against Mark’s and he could taste your lipgloss; it tasted like cotton candy and he was definitely getting some of it on his lips. Mark kissed you back, deeply. Your tongues found each other and he could taste the remnants of vodka on your tongue. Mark felt like he was floating on clouds, in complete bliss. He felt like he was dreaming. There was no place he’d rather be than here with you. 

But then he remembered. You were both drunk. He couldn’t measure how drunk he was or how drunk you were. He couldn’t be sure whether or not you meant what you said about wanting to kiss him. Was it genuine or was it just a way to pass the time?

He pulled away first. You pouted. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re drunk…”

You frowned. “Did you not like it?”

“No, no,” Mark said. “That’s not it. I liked it...a lot.” He reached for your hand, deciding that it was now or never. “I like you, Y/N...You don’t have to respond or like me back but I just wanted to tell you that. And if you want to kiss me, kiss me when we’re sober. I wanna kiss you when we’re sober.”

You smiled. “Can I just have one more kiss?”

Mark smiled. He was ecstatic and he could only hope that you wouldn’t regret this in the morning. He pressed his lips to yours one more time, hoping that what he was feeling with you was real.

You pulled away this time, looking Mark in his eyes once more. “I don’t want to be alone. Can you stay with me tonight?”

***

TAG LIST: @wanlore​

GENERAL TAG LIST: @to-all-the-stories-i-love​

[melatovnik]

hi, can u rec other sbwy fics?

yes i most certainly can!

below under the cut is a selection of very good sbwy (and sgwy) fics, i.e., wangxian fics where wwx experiences compulsory heterosexuality. by no means is it a comprehensive list of all the excellent fics of this genre, because i'm a super slow reader and simply haven't gotten to them all yet, but these are just the ones i've read and enjoyed so far. of course, mind all tags/content warnings etc you know what's up

~ the Straight Boy Wei Ying universe series by raitala | rated E | 36K words total | i know this ask was prompted by my earlier rec of this series but i'll include it here anyway. a very charming wonderful story, with extremely massively hot sex scenes

Sit down next to me | 7K words

Lan Zhan has been in love with his tragically straight best friend Wei Ying forever. So what if some girl says Wei Ying is a bad kisser? Lan Zhan has to prove to Wei Ying that this is incorrect. Because Lan Zhan is a good friend. He out does himself.

If I hadn't seen such riches | 29K words

Sequel to "Sit down next to me" - if you haven't read this all you need to know is that Wei Ying thinks he is straight. He just really likes his best friend Lan Zhan. Who is incidentally a really great kisser. Who also made him come in his pants one time. Who also has a *really* big dick, which Wei Ying sucked one time, but, like, in an experimental way, not in a gay way. They are just really good friends, right? Lan Zhan is the best. Lan Zhan is crying inside.

~ Keep Up by mimilamp | rated E | 27K words | i actually just read this one today and wwhfoohgkhdghihHHHHHHhghhhhhhgh 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 INSTANT FAVE. MUST READ.

“She was going to kiss me,” Wei Ying says, muffled, into his hands.

Lan Zhan makes sure he keeps his breaths even. “Hm,” he says. Wei Ying looks up at him, wild: a little tipsy, perhaps. Confused, in a panic. His mouth is red like he’s been kissed—he hasn’t. He’s a lip biter, has a habit of picking at his dry lips, the winter sores at the corner of his mouth. It drives Lan Zhan to madness. He dreams of Wei Ying’s puffy mouth, often, sometimes with the real Wei Ying in a sleeping bag on the floor next to his bed. On mornings like those he wakes up in a cloud of embarrassment—hobbling to the bathroom at dawn, running a loud shower to hide the sounds. Wei Ying sleeps on.

“How do I—” Wei Ying starts, stops. He then lets out a single laugh, another. He says: “Oh my god. How do I kiss? Lan Zhan, how do I kiss?”

*

Or: Wei Ying has a girlfriend now. Wei Ying doesn't want his best friend to lag behind.

~ A Brilliant Idea by FrameofMind | rated E | 25K words | good for you wei ying

The one where Wei Ying (straight) and Lan Zhan (gay) make a shared tinder account to save money, because Wei Ying has brilliant ideas.

(Wei Ying has terrible ideas.)

~ worth it for the feeling by occultings | rated E | 8K words | they're both girls in this one! "straight" girl wei ying 🥰

“I’ve never gotten off with another person,” Wei Ying says that night, apropos of nothing.

~ ready to run by detectorist | rated E | 21K words | really really enjoyed the plot and atmosphere and everything in this story

“You should make a Tinder account for campaigning,” Nie Huaisang says.

Wei Ying chokes out, “What?”

“Sounds like an absolutely terrible idea,” Jiang Cheng says flatly.

“No, it’s a great idea!” Nie Huaisang insists. “You just swipe right on everyone and then send them a message about how they should vote for you. You’re hot, Wei Ying! People will definitely match with you and then you can swoop in and hit them with the politics!”

“I don’t even have Tinder,” Wei Ying protests. He’d downloaded the app in first year but had quickly deleted it after a girl responded to his message of wanna get a drink with yeah sure, what time?

“That can be easily fixed,” Nie Huaisang says.

—

Wei Ying downloads Tinder to help him campaign for his student union election. He gets a little more than he bargained for.

~ drop the game by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 28K words | cheerleader wwx + jock lwj + fake dating + practice kissing + insane sexual tension = me, flattened like a cartoon character after getting run over by a truck

Wei Ying grabs a pen from Lan Zhan’s desk, curling his legs into a lotus pose under the arms of the chair so he can easily spread the journal out across his lap. Even upside down, Lan Zhan can read his large, messy characters scrawled across the top: Lan Zhan + Wei Ying’s Rules for Dating.

Perhaps this was a bad idea.

~ big hands (i know you're the one) by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 8K words | WHOOF 🥵

“Not a big talker, hm?” Wei Ying tilts his head to one side. “That’s okay, I’ve been told I’m a good enough conversationalist for three. My tongue is multi-talented and—”

He has just enough time to feel her palm on the back of his neck and think, oh, her hands are so big, before his words are being stolen into her mouth.

~ Boy Trouble, We've Got Double by saltyfeathers | rated E | 60K words | LAN ZHAN???? BETHROTHED???? NOT TO WEI YING??????? it's less likely than you think! canonverse casefic, featuring tons of pining and wwx taking outrageous liberties with lwj's person, as is his right

Lan Zhan stands there in his immaculate, cloud-patterned Lan robes, watching him calmly, one fist tucked up against his back. “I am betrothed.”

Wei Wuxian blinks. “Are you…” He tries to laugh. Again, it sounds inhuman. “Is this about last night? Are you mad at me? I only remember some of it, Lan Zhan. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’m sure whatever I did I was just—” He gestures uselessly. He remembers being warm in Lan Zhan’s lap. He remembers fitting snugly in Lan Zhan’s lap. Wrapping his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck. Nosing at his jaw. “…playing around.”

“This has nothing to do with you, Wei Wuxian.”

~ cherry ass wei ying (Chapter 3 of threadfic) by saltyfeathers | rated E

wei ying is so straight he sucks lan zhan's fingers about it.

~ all(e)y (Chapter 11 of threadfic) by saltyfeathers | rated E

prompt fill on twitter for straight boy wei ying + fake dating that ended up being too long for twitter so now it lives here in stupid silly shame. sorry the fake dating is a complete flyover state in this. to make up for it, i wrote out an entire blowjob for some reason.

~ lan zhan has fallen in fuck-love with the straight toad boy (Chapter 14 of threadfic) by saltyfeathers | rated M | there is no chapter summary provided by the author. the title says it all, really

~ wei wuxian loves mysteries! (Chapter 15 of threadfic) by saltyfeathers | rated G | a canonverse character exploration of wwx, set pre-CR (before wangxian first meet). soooo good

~ the mall that has it all by saltyfeathers | rated E | 8K words | 😳 wrow

She introduced herself in the food court, breathless after sprinting across it in Lan Zhan’s direction and vaulting over a table only to crash into the seat across from her, ask, “Can I have a sip?”, spring forward with both elbows on the table to wrap her burgundy lips around Lan Zhan’s smoothie straw, wrinkle her nose, and say, “What is that, kale? Not really my thing, as like, a mall goth. Oh!” A pleased, chaotic exhale. “My name’s Wei Ying.”

Lan Zhan said, after taking a moment to fully process the last forty-five seconds, “What?”

or;

mall goth au

~ I Wish You Would by brooklinegirl | rated E | 52K words | lan zhan fucks guys, wei ying pines, and lan zhan also pines

Lan Zhan takes a breath. His hands are in fists on his thighs. He stares down at them hopelessly, then carefully unclenches them, one finger at a time, before taking another breath and reaching for his lukewarm tea. He'll go out, tomorrow. Maybe in the late afternoon. Something quick. Something easy. He'll text his brother first, the short note of when he should be home, so he'll know to track him. He'll be fine, just like he said.

~ all that and more by Euphorion | rated E | 20K words | hot hot hot! and a classic

Wei Wuxian locks his phone and puts it down, blinks at his ceiling, and picks it up again. The pictures are still there.

His first thought is that Lan Zhan meant them for someone else. That he just woke up at—he checks the timestamp—6:30 am on a Sunday and decided to go absolute full nuclear seduction option on some poor boy he met on Grindr, who would now be missing out on the best thing to ever happen to him because Wei Wuxian had a bad habit of distracting—of—oh.

Pieces of last night start to resurface and paste themselves together in his head. He winces.

~ dreaming and getting a glimmer by verseau | rated E | 27K words | THE comphet gloryhole fic

Wei Ying discovers himself.

~ wanna feel a different kinda tension by verseau | rated E | 10K words | THE comphet watching-porn-together-and-also-wwx-jerks-lwj-off-with-his-own-freshly-used-fleshlight fic

Four times Lan Zhan walks in on his roommate masturbating.

that's all for now! happy october!