#also can you guess what kind of drunk I am?

[vergina-spva]

When Killer is drunk, he becomes horny on main.

When Penguin is drunk, he starts laughing about everything. Also, after a little while he gets super sleepy.

When Law is drunk, he starts to get affectionate and overshares a lot

When Kid is drunk... he can get violent. Kid is definitely the least funny drunk of the four.

[grimandghoulish]

.

[bigfootsboytoy]

Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.

So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.

Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.

Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.

He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.

He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.

Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.

And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.

By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.

Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.

"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"

Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.

"I don't mind sharing."

Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.

Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.

"Are you really gay?"

Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.

"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."

It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.

"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"

"It's not weird."

"Okay."

Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.

"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."

"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."

"What do you do when it's not enough?"

"Hmmm?"

"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"

Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.

"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."

"Oh."

Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.

"I don't know how to do any of that."

He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.

"Steve...are you lonely?"

Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.

He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.

He panics a little at the sight.

"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."

And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.

Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.

"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.

"I don't know man. I just wish-"

He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.

"What do you wish Steve?"

"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"

It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.

He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.

He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.

Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.

He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.

"Thanks man."

And Eddie takes another leap of faith.

"I could be that person, you know."

"What?"

"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."

Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.

"Just for tonight?"

It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.

"Yeah. For tonight Steve."

"I think...I think I'd like that."

Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.

"Alright sweetheart."

Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.

He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.

He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.

"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"Hmmm?"

"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"

And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.

"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"

"The real one."

"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."

Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.

"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"

Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.

"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."

Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.

"That sounds nice."

It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.

*It's only for tonight.*

He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.

But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.

Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.

Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.

But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.

Just for one night.

And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.

[felibrary]

╭──╯ TWO TRUTHS, ONE LIE

PAIRING: aventurine x reader

SYNOPSIS: in which you invite aventurine to play a drinking game with you: "two truths and one lie." it's an amusing game, what could possibly go wrong? that is until one can't distinguish between the truth and a lie.

wordcount: 1.8k | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, drunk - not really drunk rather intoxicated confession? or drunk idk, alcohol, barely any metaphors - like little to none but more dialogue (i’ve improved..ig!!), the title basically says everything

AUTHORS NOTE: i needed to write something and its two almost three am, im dying. istg i pulled this out of my asscrack. So who am i to proofread?? also this is kinda similar, kinda (really) similar to my other fic. what if i cried. when writers block gets so bad you start copying yourself dawg

“it’ll be fun!” 

you blissfully cheer as you take out two shot glasses out of your cupboard before fetching a bottle of vodka and setting it down onto the big and fancy dining table that stands in the middle of your living room, a moving gift for your new apartment which you received from none other than aventurine. 

(he insisted that it’s a fitting gift for your new home - well it certainly didn’t fit well through your front door, only after a few tries from aventurines employees they managed to transport it inside your new apartment.) 

with quick movements, the blond grabs the transparent alcohol and pours the two of you a glass. “how gentlemanlike of you.” you comment, a pinch of teasing in your words as you let out a huff, smiling as you shake your head before sitting down, right in front of him. 

a faint laugh escapes aventurine's lips and he can only hum in delight as he slides over your glass from across the table. “so if i understood it right, you for an example, tell me one lie and two truths and if i were to guess them correctly, i as the victor get to see you, the loser drinking a shot?” he props his elbow onto the dining table before leaning his cheek into the palm of his left hand, curiously awaiting your answer.

your eyes gleam in excitement “bingo!” and he can’t help the smile that finds its way onto his face. “though we’re not gonna do it one go, we’ll have turns. for example, i start off by telling a lie and you guess if i was telling the truth or not, then it’s my turn to guess, then it’s yours again and so on.” 

you grab the glass from above and lazily twirl around the vodka. “how does that sound?” you tap your fingers around glass before slowly tracing the edges of your glass with your index finger in a languid motion. “is this a wager you’re willing to indulge in, mr. aventurine?” you smile. what a tease you are.

“sure, sure. i see no reason to decline your generous offer.” he returns your smile with one of his own, similar to the one he gives to his clients, polite and charming. “well then, it’s only natural for you as the guest to start, right?” you set your glass down and it makes a light “thump” sound. 

“how kind of you.” he looks down at the dining table, scanning the items with his eyes. a white tablecloth which is stained with some light brown-yellowish spots, probably from the times when you spilled coffee onto your table and weren’t able to properly wash them out. 

he hums as he taps his fingers against the hard surface of the table, deep in thought as if pondering what to say. “let’s start off with an easy one, the critters were a gift from the trailblazer.” a lie.

you’re quick to respond “that’s a lie. although you and the trailblazer get along well, they’ve never gifted you something like a pet. the person whom you received them from is veritas.” upon that aventurine can only give you a content smile before gulping his glass down in one go. 

“very well.” he praises you before opening the alcohol bottle and pouring him another glass, not once breaking eye contact as he shoots you a knowing look that says “your turn.”

unlike aventurine you don’t need a long time to think about what you’re going to say. “i used to like you a lot.” a partial lie - you still like him. 

“that’s a lie.” aventurine immediately points out, not even bothering to meet your gaze. can this be considered a rejection? technically you didn’t confess but you admitted your “former” feelings which he immediately denied as if he doesn’t want to have anything to do with them. in response you can only quickly down your glass, hoping that the alcohol would somehow help you. (does making you feel worse count as help?) 

he continues without any effort, simply just brushing off your admission from just now. “i get along well with topaz and veritas.” the truth.

your eyes that were on his once also glance down at the table as you bury your nails into the tablecloth. “that’s the truth.” you manage to choke out, there’s no way you’re going to start getting all emotional now and start sobbing and weeping, instead you take a deep breath before continuing. 

“although it sometimes gives the impression that you don't get along with either of them and the three of you are just acquainted with one another through work, they trust you a lot and also somewhat get along with you. for an example when topaz entrusted you with her cornerstone during your mission on penacony or as mentioned before when veritas gifted you the critters. he thought you’d take a liking to them. perhaps you’re not friends but at least reliable colleagues that trust each other.” you answer as you continue to dig your nails deeper into the piece of fabric.

“i should’ve known that this was too easy for you.” aventurine chuckles as he drinks the vodka out of the glass, not leaving a single drop behind. “okay, it’s your turn again.”

you can only hum in agreement before speaking up. “i have a high alcohol tolerance.” a lie, a big one at that.

a honeyed laugh meets your ears, the sound of sweet laughter makes you glance up again. aventurine’s laughing. how sweet, bittersweet even.

there were nights when you were curled up in your sheets, wishing that there was someone beside you and not just a cold and empty mattress; wishing that there was aventurine who was laying by your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your ears as one of his arms is draped around your torso, tracing shapes onto your soft skin and tickling you. you’d push him away and laugh at which he could also only laugh. 

laugh like this; laugh like right now.

the delicate and tender moments you yearn for more than anything else are like birds, as soon as you get close to them, they get scared, they flutter their wings and quickly fly away. before you’d ever have a chance with aventurine he’d always be out of your grasp - out of your reach. 

he’s free on his own, not bound to anything and anyone. not having someone to rely on and someone whom he always needs to worry about. someone who’d keep him caged like a bird with little and restricted or rather no freedom.

“why are you laughing?” you shoot him an offended glare as you part your lips at him, a small pout decorating your face. “why are you sulking?” he responds in a teasing tone, it’s supposed to be light hearted but there’s care that glimmers in his eyes. great, does he care about you now?

“i  am not sulking!” you huff as you try to hide your expression from him, putting your arms down the dining table and burying your head in between them. 

“oh you so are!” he laughs lightly.

“shut up ‘rine!” you groan from where you’re laying.

“fine, fine.” if you were to look up at him now, you’d see him admiring you and fondly smiling while looking at the back of your head.

“my answer is that that's a lie. a blatant massive lie! you have a low alcohol tolerance and are basically a lightweight. i mean just look at your face, your cheeks are flushed and so are your ears, they’re literally beet red.” he chuckles. 

you get up from your lying position and greet him with an annoyed look. quickly you grab your glass and gulp everything down to the last bit, eventually you wipe away the remnants that cling onto your skin with your arm before pouring yourself another drink and laying back down, so now you’re back to your previous position. 

“well, it’s my turn again. because i started off with an easy one, i’ll also end it with a simple and really easy one. i have a shopping addiction.” a lie.

“lie! you yell from your place. “what kind of lie is that even?” you complain to him. 

“i told you i’d end it with an easy one. but can you also tell me why it’s a lie?” he asks curiously.

“you’re not too fond of spending credits on materialistic stuff, you use them to help out people who are in need. despite your job.”  the last part was muffled and intended for yourself only but you should’ve known that aventurine would hear it. “what was that?” despite my job?” he asks in amusement. “just forget it!” you groan.

“anyway you do that or buy cute toys for your critters. You prefer to keep your friends close with words, gestures and actions, not money.” you whisper.

“jackpot.” aventurine chuckles before proceeding to drink the vodka in his shot glass. now what will you surprise him with next?

“i still love you.” the truth.

in the past minute you gathered together several questions, statements, personal experiences in your head only to splurt out with this? the boldness came from the vodka, at least that’s what you try to tell yourself nevertheless you’re sure of one thing: alcohol definitely wasn’t a good idea.

“bold as always.” aventurine chuckles amusedly. “the truth.” he hums before standing up from where he was currently sitting, moving towards your side of the table and standing in front of you. you’re dizzy - lightheaded, but you try to look up to where he’s standing, with much effort you move your head into his direction, still lying on the table though. although you feel dizzy you’re able to make out a faint smile on his rosy lips. 

he opens his arms before wrapping them around your body, just like how you always longed. it’s unfair. even though vodka reeks, he doesn’t smell like it at all, rather it’s still his signature scent, a somewhat fresh note mixed with something sweet, the scent that you like so much. “sorry for being an ass before.” he hums as he looks down at your temple and carefully brushes the hair which covers your face, away.

i love you too. he wants to say, but he can’t. aventurine still can’t come to terms with himself and his love towards you. he doesn’t know how to voice it out loud or show it through actions. three simple words that he can’t say together, fearing that they’d be too intimate and wouldn’t seem sincere, especially in this scenario. 

but in all honesty, you’ve probably already caught on. you’re smiling like a lovesick idiot when you stare at him, but who wouldn’t, when aventurine is looking at you with an expression that says more than “i love you” ever could. 

you knew instantly, he too, was guilty. guilty of loving you.

hey girly hold still!!!! this is uhm yeah dedicated to @azullumi i'm not writing you a sappy not until i get mine!! THAT DOESNT CONSISIT OF ONLY BLANING ME FOR MY TYPSOS also childe does no wrong. ajax, you the boy who fell into the abyss, later on known as the 11th harbinger tartaglia whom we met in liyue and called himself childe and then turned out to be apart of the fatui and we also later on meet in other nations, azul loves you a lot!!

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[ellecdc]

Mother..... im so sorry 😭😭 but i swear this ones fun!!

What about another part to poly!moonwater where theres a party but Reg and Rem are running late.

Reg: * anxious and fidgety*

Rem: you know we dont have to go

Reg: no no no we most definetly do, anyway its not that. You havent seen y/n in this environmemt before have you?? She thrives in this kind of environment.

Rem: cant be that bad.....

Reg: 😶 think of Potter, Barty amd my brother in one person.

Rem: 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🥲

So when they get there reader is dancing on tables with Barty and Siri. Just the kind of person who lets go in that kinda vibe, doesnt even have to drink, its just the atmosphere that causes her personality to do a whole 180°. The kinda person you habe to but an airtag on so you dont loose them

I love it I love it I love it I love it

poly!moonwater x fem!reader

CW: mention of drinking, drunkenness and alcohol. Friends looking after their drunk friends. Friends bullying their other drunk friends (lovingly)

Remus was thankful that tonight’s Hogwarts party wasn’t being hosted in Gryffindor tower. Not only did James and Sirius get far too invested before, during, and afterwards, but it was also just harder to enjoy on account of watching what was basically your living room be trashed by a bunch of drunks. 

But tonight, he was going to be able to enjoy a nice time with his friends without any of the responsibility of having to clean up after said friends. 

And better yet, he was going to enjoy a nice time with you and Regulus; the first party the three of you would attend together as partners.

You had been very excited for tonight and had volunteered to help set up, whilst Remus opted to wait for Regulus who had quidditch practice before hand. 

And Remus was currently very happy with his choice as he got to watch Regulus change out of his quidditch gear and into his party attire.

“Would you quit ogling me, you fiend.” Regulus muttered as be buttoned the cufflinks into his dress shirt. Remus would have made fun of him for dressing so formally to a dorm party if he didn’t look so bloody good.

“Nope.” He said, popping the P.

Regulus rolled his eyes, but Remus could see a small smirk playing on his lips.

Regulus let out a steadying breath and turned to Remus. “Are you ready?”

Remus smiled before puckering his lips instead of answering. Regulus looked like he thought he should be annoyed, but ultimately gave in and pressed a kiss to the werewolf’s lips, hovering slightly above him as Remus sat reclined onto his elbows on Regulus’ bed.

Regulus pulled away all too quickly for Remus’ liking and began fussing in front of the mirror again, clearly anxious.

“Are you alright?” He asked gently, sitting up properly.

Regulus sighed but nodded in the affirmative.

“We don’t have to go, you know.” Remus tried, mistaking the boy’s nerves for being reclusive.  

Regulus kind of snorted at that and looked at Remus with a raised eyebrow. “No, we should go. In fact, we ought to go...like, now.”

Remus felt his brows furrow as Regulus headed towards the door, getting up and following him out obediently.

“This isn’t one of those ‘if we go sooner, we can leave sooner’ tactics, is it? Because with James and Sirius, I promise you that won’t work.”

Regulus laughed. “No, though I’d like to point out I am not afraid of those sods.”

“Well, who are you afraid of that has you sprinting to Ravenclaw tower right now?” Remus asked, causing Regulus to grimace a little guiltily as he slowed his stride for the lycanthrope. 

“Sorry... I guess you haven’t seen Y/N at one of these?” Regulus asked.

Remus realized then that your paths had never really crossed until this year, being a year below him and hanging out with a different crowd. “No, I guess not. Why?” 

Regulus laughed. “Oh gods. You’ll see.”

“Come on, she can’t be that bad.” Remus said with a scoff. 

Regulus rolled his eyes and smirked. “If I had one way to describe Y/N at a party, it would be a combination of Potter after a quidditch win, Sirius after four shots of firewhiskey and Barty.”

Remus’ steps faltered as he put the pieces together in his head. Regulus paused as well, making eye contact with him before understanding seemed to cross between them, and they both took off in a sprint towards the Ravenclaw tower. 

As they rounded the last spiral of the staircase, they stepped past the silencing spell that had been placed around it and could feel the vibrations from the music booming in the room. 

A third year Ravenclaw who had been paid for their service in Honeydukes chocolates answered the riddle to allow entrance to Regulus and Remus, and the sight took Remus’ breath away. 

You can dance! You can ji-ive.

You were standing dancing on the mantle of a grand fireplace with Sirius on one side of you and one of the Prewett twins on the other.

Having the time of your lives. Oooooh.

James looked like he’d been trying all evening to get up on that mantle with you guys, but in his inebriated state, Lily was easily preventing him from doing so.  

See that girl!

Both Sirius and... Fabian (if Remus guessed correctly) knelt to dramatically point at you who quickly struck a cheeky pose, earning the three of you cheers (but Remus was sure most of the applause was on your account).

Watch that scene!

Sirius pretended to play a riff on a guitar and Fabian did a scary looking spin from his place on the mantle whilst you opted to shimmy your shoulders in time with the music. 

Digging the dancing queen!

And to Remus’ absolutely horror, Fabian launched himself off of the mantle, seemingly making his mark by landing on the couch but apparently, he hadn’t taken into account the springs in the sofa which promptly launched him back off of the couch and had him landing on the wooden coffee table, causing it to splinter and break underneath him. 

Sirius looked like he was going to either fall off the mantle or piss his pants from laughing too hard, clutching your arm as you laughed along with him. 

Over Remus’ dead body would Sirius fall off a fireplace mantle and take you down with him.

He bodily moved through the crowd and stepped over Fabian without a second thought to stand below you (and Sirius, technically). Remus’ heart rate skyrocketed even more standing here below you, seeing as he was about 192cm (~6’3) and the mantle stood basically at his eyebrows.

He wanted to chide you, but your face cleared beautifully once you recognized who was standing below you.

“Remmy!” You cried as Sirius cheered “Moony!”

“I know I call you ‘dove’ baby girl, but that doesn’t mean you can fly!” He called up to you, any reprimand likely belittled by the beaming smile he was shooting at you. 

He held his hands up to you, and you quickly abandoned Sirius’ arms in exchange for his. With his hands under your armpits he gently lowered you back down to your proper height (which Remus much preferred). 

“Hi Rem!” You cheered at him. “I missed you.”

Your words were clear and loud if a little slurred. 

“I missed you!” Remus replied with a smile as Regulus quickly added “how many drinks have you had?” from his place behind him, apparently having made sure his ‘idiot brother didn’t break anything on his trip off the mantle’. Remus had sort of forgotten Sirius was there at all, to be honest. 

You seemed a little worried at Regulus’ question before he quickly added “I need to know how many I need to catch up to you, mon chéri.”

“Nice save.” Remus muttered to him.

“Uhm, maybe four?” You offered.

“Got it, think you can handle a refill?” He asked, placing a kiss to your temple. Remus wanted to eat the two of you up, you were just so cute.

“I’m on water for a bit!” You cheered back at him.

“So smart, dovey. Nice call.” Remus praised you. You beamed back at him in response. 

“S’not fair!” James shouting interrupted your chat.

“I’ll go get you a drink too, okay?” Regulus whispered into Remus’ ear before quickly taking off, clearly not interested in the whining of an inebriated James Potter.

“M’not ‘llowed to dance on th’mantle, m’not allowed to-to play with the play with the suit’s o’armours. Why’d I even come.” James cried miserably between hiccups.

“James, you cannot sword fight with the suits of armours, you will lose. When you lose a sword fight, you die.” Lily reprimanded, clearly at her wits end with her boyfriend.

“Awe, tough hand mate. Hey! Can I challenge you to a chugging contest?” Remus said, clapping James on the back.

James seemed to brighten up at that as Lily quickly scowled at him. Remus offered the redhead a wink as he plucked your cup of water out of your hands and handed it to James.

“’kay, but no cheating!” James called to Remus. Remus figured James was too drunk to realize one couldn’t really cheat at a chugging contest, but Remus didn’t plan on winning anyway.

Regulus had returned at the perfect time for Remus to take a drink and bring it to his lips. James, in his enthusiasm ended up wearing most of the water, but claimed he won after downing the rest of it.

“No way James, I want a rematch!” Remus called, grabbing the new cup of water Regulus had brought over for you - quickly promising to make it up to you - and handing it off to James.

The group ended up being able to keep James entertained by challenging him to ‘chugging contests’ whilst handing him cups of water until he had to pee. 

Remus got to watch you flit around the party, dancing to your hearts content (though, he did make sure to discourage you from anymore high surface areas. When he couldn’t, he made sure to spot you from below), and even convincing Regulus to ball dance with you, even though it was to the likes of Jackson 5. Though you quickly abandoned him for Sirius when Play That Funky Music came on.

Remus was sat in a large cushioned chair with Regulus in his lap as they watched you, clearly in your element. 

“Gods, she’s fun.” Remus whispered to his boyfriend. Regulus breathed out a chuckle and leaned further into Remus.

“She is. She can be trouble sometimes though. Probably good that Barty’s nowhere to be found.”

Regulus’ voice trailed off confusedly at the end.

“What is it?” Remus asked, but you came barrelling over to them, slightly sweaty and breathless from your dancing.

“Hi.” You breathed excitedly, falling to your knees in front of them.

“Hi dovey! Having fun?” Remus asked, bringing his hand not currently holding his drink and wrapped around Regulus’ waist to caress your face. His heart squeezed as your eyes closed and you leaned into the touch. “S’much fun.”

“Amour, where is Barty?” Regulus asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed momentarily before a cheeky smile crossed your face as you remembered.

“Oh, he’s...hanging around.” You offered vaguely. 

“Should I be worried?” Regulus asked cautiously, earning him a snort from Lily as she hauled a nearly sleeping James over to the couch beside them.

“The sod was swinging from the chandelier and got stuck. None of us bothered trying to get him down – he’s fast asleep.” She explained, gesturing to the ceiling with a nod of her head.

Sure enough, nearly right above them, Barty was passed out cold as if he were simply swinging in a hammock. 

“Hm...” Regulus deadpanned, narrowing his eyes at you. “Amour, did someone bet Barty that he couldn’t manage to get to the chandelier?” 

“No.” You answered quickly, defiantly. Regulus continued staring impassively at you until you sighed. “I bet him he couldn’t get down from the chandelier.” 

“And she was right.” Lily added, giving you a fist bump.

Regulus let out a long suffering sigh, causing Remus to chuckled and rub his side placatingly. 

“Fair enough, sweets.” He conceded.

“Easy for you to say.” Regulus muttered. “You aren’t responsible for getting him down.”

“Just leave him up there.” Sirius commented; he wasn’t quite as drunk as Remus expected him to be, but his movements were still sloppy as he moved to sit on the floor beside you. “That’s apparently what friends do.” He said pointedly, glaring at Remus and sticking his tongue out at him.

“I had more important priorities.” He said, winking down at you.

“Are-are you s,saying that Y/N’s more impo- important than your mate, Rmussss?” James said – barely – through hiccups.

“Certainly prettier priorities.” Regulus commented.

“Oi!” Sirius shouted far louder than necessary. “You take that back!” 

“I’ll do no such thing.” Regulus responded casually. 

Sirius went to stand from his place, no doubt to try to roughhouse his brother. 

“It’s okay Sirius. I think you’re very pretty. Next time, you can be the dancing queen.” You placated. Sirius turned to look at you like you hung the moon.

“Really?!” He cried. You nodded, causing the sod to launch himself, tackling you in a hug and causing the two of you to fall over.

“Oi! Don’t crush my darlin’ girl, Pads!” Remus called at the same time as Regulus spat “if she has so much as one fucking bruise Sirius, I swear to Salazar...”

“Do forgive him,” Lily commented, “he was just informed he could be the next dancing queen.”

“Why mess with perfection? I happen to think Y/N was a wonderful dancing queen!” Marlene called from somewhere behind Remus.

“I MISSED DANCING QUEEN!?” Barty screeched from his aerial prison above them.

Regulus let out another long-suffering sigh as he stood, lifted you up out of Sirius’ grasp and placed you in his vacated spot on Remus’ lap. “I’ll go get my broom to get him down...”

“How’d you manage to win that bet, dove?” Remus whispered as Regulus disappeared through the door, pressing his nose to the pulse point of your neck.

“Sticking charm.”

Remus chuckled and felt the breaths leaving his nose bounce off your skin and back into his face. 

“My cheeky little minx.”

[welcometowhore-rrorville]

I AM LIVING FOR YOUR SLASHER HEADCANONS, esp the last post!! but i have a question: what do you think michael would do if the next time he wants to fuck, they’re like “nope, don’t want to, you didn’t make me cum” and is generally just provoking him and saying shit like “i can just find someone that CAN satisfy me” and other dumb shit. would he not care?? get jealous? knife through the door?? so many possibilities

Thank you thank you!!! <3

𝒞𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐹𝑜𝓇

Featuring: Michael Myers

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: oral sex, fingering, rough sex, overstimulation, general nsfw things, mdni, i got carried away, unedited because I didn't think i'd write this much

As for your question(s):

I think it definitely depends on how long you've known him. The only way he'd give a flying fuck about what you think is if he was down bad. Especially if we're talking about the OG Michael. RZ Michael is easier to convince to actually give a shit what you want in bed, but it's still not a priority for him. Still, there are certain personality traits you can exploit to get what you want. . .

-

When you first brought up that you were unsatisfied in bed, it was a very soft comment after he was done and zipping his jumpsuit back up.

"I didn't even cum. . ." you mumbled, staring at your bare abdomen and leaking cunt. It was all him. You didn't even have the chance to pleasure yourself; it was too difficult with him constantly flipping you over and manhandling you. Your body was sore and bruised, but you laid there, discontent.

You moved your gaze to look at his masked face. Judging by the way he stopped his movements, he'd heard you. You bit your lip, turning your eyes away and down to your hands which fiddled with each other. You knew he didn't care, but it would be nice if he did.

"Just get out, okay?" you spoke, embarrassed and a little angry. "I'll just get myself off since you can't seem to do it."

Your tone had him walking around to the side of the bed, grabbing his discarded knife from the nightstand. You flinched, but didn't bother to run. If he wanted to kill you, he would have already.

Just as you figured, he turned back around, trudging out of your bedroom with the blade in his grip. You rolled your eyes. You were half tempted to call up and old friend of yours for a night, but realized that might end in bloodshed. Michael was much too possessive for that.

Suddenly, an idea crossed your mind. You knew Michael was selfish, but he also always had something to prove. He wanted to, no, needed to be the best at everything. Nobody could escape, outrun, or hide from him, and he knew that. So what if. . .

It was a few days later when he came back, heavy footsteps on your porch alerting you. Still, you pretended not to notice, phone up to your ear as you chatted. You were leaned against the kitchen counter, occasionally popping some popcorn into your mouth.

The door to your house creaked open before shutting again. You paid no mind.

"Go out? Ha," you spoke, fingers moving around a stray popcorn kernel absentmindedly. "If I want to get drunk, I'll do it in my own home, thank you very much."

At this point, he was looming in the kitchen doorway, but you didn't even bother with a glance.

"Oh, go out to meet someone, huh? Yeah, I guess that would be nice. . . I mean sure, there's a guy that stops by, but I'd be lying if I said I was satisfied." You leaned against your fridge, his massive form still lingering just a few feet away.

"It's just. . . other people I've been with have gotten me off four, five times a night, but this guy? Not once. Yeah. You heard me. Not once."

You made sure to emphasize that last phrase. You knew the dangerous game you were playing, but you didn't care. "Talk to him? Girl, I've tried. He's like a brick wall. Doesn't even say goodbye. As soon as he's done he's out the door. Rude? Tell me about it. Sure, I've had better, but he always keeps crawling back looking like a kicked puppy. I just kind of feel sorry for him."

You didn't have time to speak again before the phone was ripped from your grasp and tossed carelessly across the kitchen, plastic pieces shattering across the tile.

One hand wrapped around your throat while the other rested just beside your head, almost denting your poor fridge with the force. The choke was painful but not deadly, and you locked eyes with the culprit, staring intently.

He pulled you against him before slamming you back against the fridge, and you winced at the sudden force. "What's wrong with you?" you sputtered out, your hands trying to fight the grip on your throat.

He glanced at the destroyed phone, and you had to stifle a smirk from appearing on your lips.

With another slam, he finally released his hand from your neck, and you took in a few shaky breaths. Still, he loomed close enough to leave you pressed against him.

"You're angry," you spoke, rubbing the marks forming on your neck. "I assumed Michael Myers never got angry."

He looked to the shattered telephone again before looking back at you. He wanted an explanation.

"What do you want me to say? It's true. And I'm pissed about it. All you ever do is use me then leave. I haven't had a proper orgasm in weeks!" You pushed your hands against his chest angrily, but he didn't budge. "I know you're not a good man, but it still isn't fair. I can't even call anyone because you'll have a knife through their neck before they can get their pants off."

He let out a breath, both hands finding purchase on your hips. "Now's not the time," you huffed, moving to push his hands away. His grip tightened. You headbutted his chest, forehead resting against the rough material of his jumpsuit. How could he be raring to go at a time like this? "Unless you've got anything planned for me tonight, I'm not interested."

He didn't falter. You looked back up to try and read his face through his mask. It did not work. You could tell he was. . . different than usual, but he was probably still pissed off from your words over the phone.

His fingers nestled behind the waistband of your shorts, and in one fell swoop they dropped to the floor. You stayed silent. He never had the decency to take your clothes off. It was always ripped or sliced, and there was never any time taken. Hell, he'd never taken your shorts off without your underwear going with.

You stifled a laugh. Was he actually. . . trying?

He slid a knee between your thighs, pinning you. One hand explored your upper half, sliding under your shirt until he hit your bra. His other hand travelled downwards, slipping underneath your panties. You felt a rough digit slide against your clit and let out a sudden breath. Quickly, he backtracked, moving back up until he found that same spot.

You had to bite your lip to prevent a gasp from leaving it. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been stimulated there. It was suddenly all too-sensitive.

Two fingers caught the small nub, and you had to grip his shoulders to prevent yourself from falling. The digits toyed with it, squeezing and brushing like he was testing something. Your forehead pressed against his chest as heavy breaths left you.

One hand worked at massaging your chest, running a thumb against your nipple, while the other played with your clit harshly. You didn't expect him to be gentle in the slightest, but it still had you shimmying your hips in discomfort. It's not that you weren't aroused, and in fact, you were all too turned on. He'd never shown any interest in any part of you besides your cunt and mouth, and even then it was only to slide his dick into. This? This was all new. This feeling of rough hands overtaking your body, touching your skin, pleasuring you for the first time. . .

You pushed your hips forwards, trying to gain friction. With any luck, you could actually get off tonight.

Suddenly, all hands were off of you and he stepped back, tilting his head.

You rushed to hold yourself up, knees wobbly. You shot daggers at him, eyes burning. He stopped. Why the fuck did he stop?

He stared at you, waiting for something. You crossed your arms over your chest, looking as put-together as you could with wetness creeping down your thighs and shorts discarded on the floor.

"I'm not apologizing, if that's what you want," you muttered. "Congratulations, you found the clit. Took you long enough. You'll have to work a little harder if you're looking to clear your name."

In a flash, he had you hauled over his shoulder, and you let out a gasp of surprise. You could only sigh as he took you to your destination.

You were dropped onto your bed, legs dangling off the front as he pushed you down into the mattress. You cocked a brow.

In an event you'd never thought would happen, he kneeled down in front of you, hands spreading your thighs apart. Was this a dream? You were in shock. There's no way he was going to. . .

You were pulled out of your thoughts when your panties were slid down your legs and tossed aside. It didn't take long before one hand was back between your legs, rubbing your clit as the other pressed against your stomach to keep you in place. You couldn't move your thighs which were locked apart, blocked by his shoulders.

You couldn't sit up with the way he had you pinned, and so stared at the ceiling, hands gripping the sheets.

A new sensation startled you, and you tried desperately to sit up enough to see, but it was no use.

It was his tongue, dragging up your folds until he reached your clit. He took the nub in his mouth, and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to prevent the noise that threatened to come out.

That old and familiar feeling built within you, like a spring coiling and coiling, ready to snap. Your mind went blank as a tension built within you. It was like everything but your cunt was numb. There, feeling was in overdrive. Every swipe of his tongue, every prod of his fingers inside of you, swiping forward to push against your favorite spot: it was too much.

You came with a breathless gasp, back arched as your hands dug into the sheets. Even without seeing, you knew your cunt was a mess. You could feel your cum seeping out. You could smell the scent of sex in the room. Your thighs shook, pussy clenching around nothing.

You expected him to pull back, but instead you felt his tongue licking at your cunt, swiping up any spill into his mouth. You let out a whine as he prodded inside, tongue lapping up your wetness.

Digits were back to circling your clit, and you moaned, still much too sensitive. Despite this, he had no intentions of stopping, instead switching out his fingers for his mouth as he thrust a finger inside of you. You had no time to process before another joined the first. Your head pressed desperately against your bedsheets.

"Slow down," you gasped, voice shaking. He didn't heed your words, and in fact, sped up the way his fingers pushed in and out of you. You whined. The tension was already back and ready to snap within you.

"Michael," you cried, eyes clenched shut. "Please!" You weren't sure what you were pleading for.

You came again, more violently than the last. Over and over your cunt pulsed, leaking your cum to pool at your enterance, only to be pushed back in with the shove of his fingers.

"Okay! Okay! You win!" you panted, wiping the sweat from your face.

When he still showed no signs of letting up, all you could do was let out a weak groan. You got what you desired, you supposed. But it seemed he found something he liked as well.

All this because you decided to talk a little shit about him. You didn't dare tell him there was nobody on the other line.

[furuyalover]

taking care of him at a party

— ft. atsumu miya

AN: just a lil sum while i work my music event drabbles 🤍 also this was soo fun to write so pls request any other characters i should do this for !

your roommate was throwing a party in your shared house, and it was fun at first. however your social battery was running kind of low, and you felt like taking a break anyways. “hey im a little beat, but if you need anything i’ll be in my room” you tell your friend and then you make your way to your room.

you lie down on your bed, and decide to maybe take a small nap to help you feel better. but not even 15 minutes into your nap you hear a soft knock on your door. “come in” you groan, as you readjust yourself so that you can sit up and see whoever’s at your door, expecting your roommate needing assistance with something for the party. but to your surprise, your greeting by three familiar faces, one being a very drunk atsumu miya.

being practically held him by his twin brother and good friend suna, the former embarrassingly says “y/n im so sorry for barging in, but is it ok if we let atsumu take a break here? every other room was occupied and your roommate told us to try here” atsumu was smashed, you could tell that he was shitfaced and it was more like osamu & suna who needed the break.

“what? ok sure yeah whatever. just lay him down over there i guess.” too tired to really even refute their request, you instruct the two to carry their drunken friend on the side of your bed opposite of you. this is where you decide it’s probably time for you to turn in for the night.

you leave atsumu to rest on your bed, and head into your bathroom to change, shower, and what not to get ready for bed. by the time you’re done you chuckle to yourself when you see atsumu is still knocked out on your bed. admittedly, you found it kind of cute to see him like this. peacefully asleep, in his natural state, a change of pace from his usual loud and brash personality, it didn’t help that he was in your bed as well. after placing a glass of water and some tylenol and advil on the nightstand next to him, you sit on your side of your bed and start mindlessly scrolling on your phone.

you text your roommate, updating them on the wild situation you found yourself in. “y/n are u fr rn? this is like the perfect chance for u to confess to him hello??” a smile forms on your face after reading that text, “bro what hell no. that’s so awkward 😭” “ur trippin, worst case scenario u can tell him u we’re js drunk” rolling your eyes at that suggestion, you exit your texts and go back to your scrolling.

a few minutes go by and you feel atsumu shifting in your bed, followed by a slight groan. “oh god where am i” he groans as he rolls over, rubbing his eyes, to face this mysterious figure sat beside him.

“well you’re not downstairs getting shitfaced that’s for sure” you snark with a small chuckle, slightly admiring how cute he looks with his messy hair and flushed face. “oh shit! y/n! is this your room? oh my god did we..?” amused by his slight panic you reassured him that nothing happened, “no no don’t worry, you were absolutely plastered so suna and your brother dropped you off here so you could rest. there’s some tylenol next to you, you should really take some”

she’s such an angel wow, he thought to himself as he took the pain relievers you so kindly prepared for him. “god those assholes, sorry you had to deal with that” he quietly, almost embarrassingly apologizes. giggling at his annoyance you assure him it’s fine and that it’s not a big deal. but then the gears start turning in your head a bit, as you start to develop a lil plan to semi-confess to him.

“the party isn’t probably gonna end for another few hours, so if you want you can just crash here if you want. i can just sleep on the couch or something” almost immediately, a grin plasters on atsumus face, and his usually cocky self is back just like that. “i mean that’s rather rude ya know? i wouldn’t want such an angel who had to take care of a drunken asshole to sleep on the couch. you should probably just sleep in your own bed” he grins as he runs his hands through his messy blonde hair, this bitch knows exactly what he’s doing, you think to yourself.

despite a very obvious blush creeping up on your face you respond, “yeah well i’d feel bad if you had to stay on the couch” scoffing, faking offense to your comment “who said anything about me on the couch? plus i heard cuddling is good for hangovers.” OH HOW I HATE HIM. rolling your eyes you playfully act annoyed, but you couldn’t be any happier

“hm well i always wanted to cuddle with that dumbass from the volleyball team who i have a crush on” you retort with a light laugh. now it’s his turn to blush, already flushed from the alcohol he is now redder than before. “when exactly were you planning on tellling this handsome and talented dumbass?” despite the confident demeanor he was definitely screaming on the inside.

“i figured now would be a good time, but who said anything about handsome and talented.” you reply as you side eye him, but he just can’t help but smile right at you. “so we’re definitely cuddling right?” he asks with a heartful, genuine smile. not being able to deny this lover boy’s smile or even him in general, i mean you’ve liked him for months now, you roll your eyes and respond “ok fine i guess whatever, but find some clothes to change into and take a shower” you laugh as you playfully hit him on his shoulder.

“on it.” he gets up heading downstairs to see if any of his friends have extra clothes they can get him, and to of course tell them about his crush on you. “shit finally, it’s about time you told her you liked her, osamu you owe me $10 and some food” “ok fine suna whatever, but you owe me $5 since he did it while he was drunk.” yes these mfs placed bets on you guys confessing to each other.

reblogs appreciated and admired ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

[riboism]

man who can’t be moved

》 pairing: j.yh x f!reader

》 genre: angst, smut, some fluff

》 content: college student!reader, college student! yunho, no strings attached, hookups, reader is kind of a player, some mentions of reader’s ex (it didn’t end well),  lots of denial, lots of emotions, big dick yunho, creampie, clit play, angry sex, am i missing anything?

》 wc: 6.4k

》 a/n: thank you to the person who requested this! this got me out of my writers block. I hope you like it :)

♫ playlist: flook- hector gachan, evergreen- omar apollo, frío- omar apollo, broken love- gemini, man who can’t be moved- the script

Yunho stood outside your apartment door, holding onto a box that contained your possessions. He could smell the rosy scent of the shampoo that you left in his shower. He had spent all morning collecting your belongings into this box, proud that he finally made an effort to be rid of you once and for all. But that rosy smell, that same scent that he’d wake up to after you spent the night was making him second guess himself. No, stop it, he said to himself. Just stick to the plan Yunho. 

The plan was simple. Yunho would go to your apartment after work and knock on your door, fully aware that you probably weren’t home. You were most likely at San’s or Yeosang’s place right now, getting shit-faced drunk and having sweaty sex on their beat-up couches, head too fuzzy in bliss to even spare a single thought about him. But he thought he would knock anyway, just as a courtesy. He’d wait for ten seconds, and when you don’t answer, he’d shrug in a “welp, I tried” kind of way before placing the box on your doorstep. He’ll take a deep breath while looking at your door that he knew all too well one last time and then head towards the stairwell exit, with his head held high, showing no intention of turning back.

Yunho was partly to blame for the way things ended, and he knew that. You made yourself very clear in the beginning. “Listen Yunho, you’re really sweet,” You said after he confessed to you all those months ago at the campus library where you two first met, “But I’m not looking for anything serious. I don’t really do relationships. You get what I mean?”

He knew exactly what you meant. ‘Dating’ was an ancient term. Nobody ‘dated’ anymore. What replaced this archaic social practice were one-night stands, situation-ships, friends with benefits, hookups, etc. No one wanted a ‘serious’ relationship anymore because that meant having to give your mind, body, and soul to someone, and why bother with all that when you can just give them one of the three? 

Even though most of his peers shared the same sentiment as you when it came to relationships, Yunho didn’t agree with it at all. Maybe he was old-fashioned for wanting something more than a quick fuck. Looking back on it now, he regretted not taking the hint. It was evident that you wanted a guy you could fool around with when you were bored, someone who’s emotionally unavailable so you don’t have to worry about attachments and sudden ‘L’ bombs when you’re just trying to get your fix. But Yunho, who was so pathetically infatuated with you at the time, so much so that it blocked away all rational thinking, decided that he’ll be whatever kind of guy you wanted him to be if it meant that he could be with you. The foolish romantic was now part of a no strings attached relationship. 

He felt incredibly stupid for getting involved with you. What did he expect? That after all the mindless sex, you’d fall as hard for him as he did for you, and finally agree to be his girlfriend? He had so much to learn. No strings attached meant no strings attached. That meant less conversation and more action. Less getting to know each other and more getting to know about what was in between your legs. It meant no longing stares, although he was guilty of watching you sleep in his arms from time to time. It also meant being okay with the fact that he was not the only guy you were seeing. And that’s when the fights would ensue.

“Who was that guy?” Yunho demanded, making sure to use his quiet-yelling voice out of respect for the other patrons of the library. He was referring to the pale, blonde-haired guy from the dining hall earlier. He didn’t like how close he was standing next to you. He especially didn’t like it when he leaned in to whisper in your ear, or how you giggled when he placed his hands over your waist and how you rubbed your hands over his flexed muscles. You chewed on your gum, tracing your fingers over the etched golden text on the book spines on the historical fiction shelf. You almost didn’t hear him at first, too preoccupied with finding your next bedtime read. 

“Hmm? Oh, that guy? Just someone I’ve been seeing. Why, you jealous?” 

It was a joke. There was no such thing as ‘jealousy’ in a no strings attached relationship. You smiled up at him, expecting to see him roll his eyes from your playful jab, but instead, he looked away from you. Even with his side profile facing you, you could read the tinge of irritation on his face. You frowned.

“Oh come on Pookie,” You pouted, squeezing his cheeks and turning his head to face you. You chuckled after seeing his lips puckered up like a fish. “Don’t be like that. Come on, I can’t be the only girl you’re seeing, right?” 

He placed his hand on your wrist and pulled you off him. “Whatever.” He moped. He watched as your eyes widened in sudden realization. 

“No…” You gasped dramatically, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. “I’m the only one you’ve been seeing?” 

He stayed quiet, not understanding why you worded it that way. Was it really a bad thing that you were the only girl on his mind? 

“Oh god, you’re so cute!” You tittered. “I thought with a dick like yours, you’d be very popular. It’s a shame you’re not sharing it. I know a lot of girls who would love to take you out for a spin.” 

“Keep your voice down.” Yunho hissed, looking around to see if anyone heard your distasteful choice of words. Luckily, no one was around at your corner of the library. “And stop talking like that. I don’t like it when you talk about me like that.” 

“It was a compliment!” You defended yourself. Yunho refused to meet your eyes, busying himself with pulling out random books and reading the blurbs on the backside, although he was too upset to even acknowledge what he was reading. You sighed again, feeling a little bad for making him so upset. You’d often forget that Yunho was more sensitive than your other partners and that he needed extra kindness and assurance. You wrapped your arms around his big body and rested your cheek against his back. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you so much.” He stayed quiet, putting back the book and pulling out another. “Please don’t be mad.” You begged. 

“I’m not mad,” He murmured. “I just thought…I don’t know, I thought I was the only guy you were seeing.” 

“Does it bother you that you’re not?” You questioned, letting go of him. Yunho looked back at you, his chest tightening at your furrowed brows. He worried that he said the wrong thing again. He was new to the no strings attached community, and would often let his possessiveness and sensitivity peek through. 

“No,” He lied. “I just…Forget it.” 

You mulled over his response, trying hard to understand why he was so upset, to begin with. Your silence made Yunho nervous. Everything about you made him nervous. 

Then, your eyes sparked when you finally understood. “Ohh…I get it.” You nodded. 

His shoulders tensed up. “You do?” 

“Yes, and you have nothing to worry about. Out of everyone, you’re my favorite.” You stood on your tippy toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, satisfied that you solved the puzzle and were able to calm his nerves. 

Yunho gave you a shy smile. He didn’t want to smile, but he figured it was best to do so, so that you could believe that he was lashing out over the fear of being replaced, and not because he didn’t wish to share you with other guys. 

You continued on. “You worried me for a second. I thought you were one of those guys that don’t like it when a girl has a mind of her own.”

“No,” he chuckled nervously, “No, I don’t mind that at all.” 

“Good,” you chirped, going back to your search. “You wouldn’t believe some of the guys I’ve been with. They get so clingy, and it gets annoying after a while. I’m glad you’re not like that. Other guys…they don’t get it.  We’re young. It’s better we have fun while we can, or else we’ll live to regret it when we’re old and wrinkly and can’t get any.” 

Yunho hummed in agreement, although he didn’t agree with you at all. He thought about his grandparents. They lived in a small apartment just outside of the city. His parents would complain about how small their living space was, and offered to help them move into a more spacious apartment, but his grandparents always refused. “If we move into a bigger apartment, we won’t be able to see each other. This size is perfect,” His grandmother would say, “I turn around and he’s right behind me. It’s how it should be. Anything farther, and we’d miss each other too much.”

It always warmed his heart just how inseparable those two were, even in their old age. He wanted that for himself one day. How wonderful would it be to grow old with the person you love most? 

Later that night, while you were showering, he remained in your bed, thinking about what you said earlier. Was he really your favorite? Did you really like him more than the other guys you were seeing? Or was his dick just bigger than theirs? He tried not to think about that too much and focused on going to sleep.

-

And when it wasn’t him being upset with you, it was you getting annoyed with him. 

“Do you really have to go?” Yunho whined. He was sitting up on his bed, watching you as you shuffled around his room, bending down to pick up the discarded pieces of clothing. 

“I already told San I’d meet up with him later.” You huffed as you shimmied into your jeans. Yunho didn’t like how quickly you were getting dressed. It was as if you were eager to get away from him. 

“San?” He scoffed. “You mean that bartender that kept eye fucking you right in front of me?” 

Yunho remembered San. A lot of the girls from your University frequented that bar on the corner of Main Street, hoping to get served by the handsome devil in all black. He’s seen a lot of the girls write their phone numbers on the twenty-dollar bills they tipped him with. It was ridiculous. Everything about him was ridiculous, from the cheap hair gel he used to slick back his hair, to his sleazy smile, along with his overly tight t-shirts and shiny black leather pants. But he didn’t mind him too much, not until that night when you two went in for a drink, and the so-called ‘handsome devil in all black’ ruthlessly flirted with you when he was clearly sitting right next to you with his hand on your thigh to mark that you were taken. Yunho didn’t know what angered him more. San’s shit-eating grin or the fact that you let him flirt with you in the first place. 

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, that guy.” You really didn’t like it when he got emotional, and Yunho could sense your discomfort. He immediately regretted what he said and grabbed you by your arm before you could leave, pleading to you with his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to upset you. But can’t you just stay a little longer? It’s already so late. I thought you could spend the night. We could rent a movie?” He offered. 

You picked up your jacket and purse, not even bothering to put them on before you left. “Look, I’ll call you okay?” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips and then went out the door before he could protest again. Yunho slumped back against the headboard, the sound of the door slamming behind you echoing in his head. How do you keep letting this happen, Yunho? She comes and goes, that’s what she does. She’s not here to hold hands and watch a fucking movie. She wants to fuck and then move on to the next guy. Seriously, do you have any respect for yourself?

And that’s how the cycle would begin. Yunho would get tired of you and your bullshit, tired of being discarded right after helping you cum, tired of driving himself mad over who you were seeing and what you were doing with him, just tired of being an option. It wasn’t him. He wanted you and your full devotion, and when he finally realized that there was no way you would give that to him, he’d call it off. 

The first few weeks of being free from you would go well. He’d be at peace like he got rid of a bad cold and could finally breathe again. But that small period of relief wouldn’t last very long. Truth was, Yunho wasn’t good at being alone. And soon, he’d miss your touch, your smell, and hearing your laugh. He’d miss the moments he spent with you in the library, like when you two would play footsies under the table during your late-night midterm study sessions, or the times you two would fight for the aux cord in his car, eager to show each other new songs you were obsessing over at the moment. He’d find himself listening to the songs you showed him, but they didn’t sound the same anymore. 

He’d miss hearing you talk about your day or your thoughts about rent control and the current economic crisis. And then he’d miss the nights he spent with you, how your body reacted to his fingertips, the way you’d press your eyes shut when he entered you, and the pretty sounds you let out when you were close to your peak. And then he’d think about that one night you showed up at his apartment, unannounced. You were upset, it was telling from your reddened lips and tear-stained cheeks. You wouldn’t say why you were upset, and after asking a couple of times, Yunho decided to just let leave you be. He then invited you in and let you lead the way to his bed. It started the way any other night started, with you two hungrily ripping each other’s clothing off, but before he could spread your legs, you suddenly pressed your hand to his chest and asked him to stop. “No, not like this…Can we-” You looked away from his piercing gaze, a rush of frustration and confusion coursing through your stomach until you finally spit the words out. “Can we just lay here?”

Yunho looked down at you with sincerity in his eyes, and he wanted to ask you one more time what was wrong. But seeing you so hurt, so tired, so in need of someone to just hold you while you cried, he decided to hold his tongue. He pulled you into his arms without question, letting you wet his chest with your spilled tears. And when he felt goosebumps prickle up on your skin, he covered both your naked bodies with a blanket and held you tighter. You finally fell asleep, your worries being absorbed by Yunho and his warm embrace, and Yunho couldn’t help but feel a little enraptured watching you sleep so peacefully in his arms. He’s had you in every way, in every position, seen every crevice of your beautiful body, but this. This is what he wanted most in the world. This is how he wanted you. And he hoped that by the next morning, that’s how you’d want him too. But when morning came, Yunho woke up alone, with nothing but the faint smell of roses on his pillowcase. When he asked you about it later that day on campus, you suddenly went cold and demanded he never bring it up again.

He thought about that night, your body, those Omar Apollo songs you showed him, the library study sessions, just every single moment that he’s ever spent with you, driving himself mad to the point where the desire for you would be overwhelming and too strong to ignore and he’d ultimately give in and crawl back into bed with you, allowing you to use him as you wanted, feeling again like a dog on your leash. It would feel good for a bit, until those same old feelings resurfaced and he’d call it off once again, repeating the never-ending cycle of your no strings attached relationship.

But this time, things were going to be different. He wasn’t going to continue this cycle. You weren’t good for him, and it was time he let go and move on. That’s why he packed all your stuff and came to drop them off. It was official. There was no going back from this. All he had to do now was stick to the plan. 

Yunho shifted the box to his side and used his free hand to knock on the door. He took a deep breath and counted in his head. 

One. 

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five-

The door swung open, interrupting his counting. You stood at the door frame in nothing but your bathrobe, your wet hair dripping puddles around your feet. Yunho was at a loss for words. This wasn’t part of the plan. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t prepare for this. He didn’t, sorry, couldn’t see you, because it would just make things harder. It was like flaunting a cigarette in front of someone who just quit smoking. He wasn’t strong enough to resist you. He was addicted to you and he worried that he would relapse again. 

“Oh, Yunho.” You acknowledged, crossing your arms over your chest. He held onto the box tighter, feeling himself twitch from the sound of you calling his name. You peered into the box, recognizing the articles of clothing and personal hygiene products. “Is that my stuff?” 

Yunho struggled at first, forgetting for a moment how to speak coherently. “Uh- yes, it is. I came to drop them off. Here.” He blubbered, pushing the box towards you. You took it from his hands, not expecting it to be so heavy. You didn’t realize you left so many things at his place. 

“Oh. Thanks.” 

A silence weighed in between you, both of you looking at each other awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. Right, Yunho thought to himself, there’s nothing left to say. You did your part, now walk right out. 

“Well, I should head back. Goodnight, Y/N.” 

Yunho turned on his heel and made his way out of the long corridor. Part of him didn’t want to reach the end of the hall, but he pushed himself anyway, reminding himself over and over to not look back. As painful as it was, it needed to happen. It was for the best. 

“Wait,” You called after him. 

And just like that, Yunho immediately stopped in his tracks, not hesitating this time to turn around. It almost brought him some relief, like he had been holding his breath for too long, and now you finally gave him permission to exhale. “Yes?” He beamed.

You stepped out from the door frame and into the hall so you were right across from where Yunho stood. “Do you want to come in?”

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded, almost believing that he must have heard you wrong. 

“I mean, your stuff,” You clarified, “I still have some of your stuff in my apartment if you wanted to come in and grab them.” It was kind of pathetic, the way you tripped over your words, but you couldn’t bare saying goodbye just yet. No, you’re not catching feelings, you assured yourself. You just wanted him around you for a little bit longer. Maybe it was selfish of you to keep pulling on his leash like this, but for the moment, you didn’t care. 

“Oh, right. That would be great, actually.” 

-

Yunho knew he would hate himself for letting this happen. All that progress getting chucked out the window on account of his lack of self-control. But how could you blame him? With the way your damp strands curled around your flushed cheeks, the smell of your rosy shampoo that had been seared into his nostrils by now, and the fact that all he had to do was undue your robe to see your beautiful glistening body that was so ready for him to take. It was all so easy. You handed him the apple and all he had to do was take a bite. 

“Fuck, Yunho!” You cried out, grasping his bare back for dear life as he frantically thrust into you. He was angry, angry at himself that he let this happen again, and angry at you for making him so weak. He only put just the tip in, but you could’ve sworn you were seeing stars from the stretch alone. 

“Unbelievable,” He grunted. “Even after the hundred times we fucked, your little pussy still can’t take my cock?”

You’d never seen this side of Yunho. Usually, he was nice and gentle with you, always studying the arch of your brows to see if he was taking things too far or not. It was sweet at first, but sometimes you’d wish he’d just take you and fuck you like an animal. It seemed your wish was finally granted. “P-Please! All of it, I want all of it Yunho, please!” Was all you could muster out. 

He pulled out of you in an instant, and before you could whine, he forcibly flipped you over and pulled you back by your hips until your ass smacked into his pelvis. Yunho kept you down with his hand pressed against the space between your shoulder blades as he lined himself up with your aching center. 

Yunho rubbed himself against your slick folds, occasionally slapping his tip over your swollen clit, making your hips jolt with anticipation. “You want it all? ‘Guess those other guys don’t fill you up as much as you want, huh? Poor thing.” He continued dragging his cock over your folds, your soft whimpers only feeding into his ego. 

Just when he thought you had enough, he guided his cock into your hole, the stretch forcing you to tear up once again. You grasped at your bed sheets and pressed your eyes shut, preparing yourself for the rest of him as your lips coated in salty tears. 

He pushed the rest of him into you with a struggle, his hips stagnant as he waited for you to adjust to his size. “Fuck!” You gasped, your voice cracking as he started up again. Each thrust was deep, calculated, and they didn’t fail to rip a moan out of you. 

His fingers, now coated with your essence, tweaked and twisted at your clit. It was all too much for you, really, the sheer length of him plowing into your walls, the brutal pace he set on account of his anger, along with the way he toyed at your clit. Yunho could sense you were close, having known your body long enough to know when you were about to be sent over the edge. He stopped teasing your bud and instead slipped his fingers past your lips and you readily let him in, swirling your tongue around his digits to clean yourself off him. He grinned to himself, pleased to see that you knew exactly what to do without any instruction. 

Suddenly, he pulled his fingers out from you and cupped your jaw with his large hand, pulling you back until your head was against his chest, keeping your face there so you were forced to look up at him. He peered down at you with his full attention, completely engrossed by just how pretty and sinful you looked in this position. “Stay like that,” He breathed “‘wanna see you when you cum all over my cock.” 

He came first, your orgasm approaching soon after. You babbled incoherently as his cum flooded your walls, forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. Yunho was completely enamored with you like this, your parted and swollen lips and your half-lidded eyelids almost making him shoot a second load into you. He disconnected from you and you fell forward onto the bed, catching your breath as you came down from your high. You felt dizzy and sweaty, and your head was so cloudy that you were unable to form a thought that wasn’t already so scrambled. As you relaxed, you felt Yunho’s breath over your hip right before he planted soft kisses on your lower back all the way up to your shoulder. His kisses were sweet and careful, almost like he was making up for being so rough with you. Soon enough, he retired from your shoulder and moved on to the side of your face, brushing his pillowy lips on your temple, to your wet eyes, to your cheek, until you craned your neck back and allowed him to meet your lips. 

It was almost foreign to you, to have someone care this deeply for you even after the act. None of your other partners behaved this way, and you were lucky if they even remembered to toss you a towel. But Yunho, he was different. He treated you as something more, and maybe it made you feel bad that you didn’t do the same for him. It was overwhelming, his soft kisses, his careful touches, the way he’d beg you to stay over, and the way he almost looked hurt when you say you can’t. Poor Yunho. He was in love with you, and you knew it. You hated yourself for toying with a man with good intentions. But what was the alternative? You couldn’t be his, and he couldn’t be yours. You made a promise to yourself years ago that you’d never be foolish enough to fall in love ever again. This had to stop, you should’ve stopped it months ago, but you were selfish. And lonely. The guilt you’ve been bottling up inside of you was too much to handle, and you knew you had to do something before you exploded.

Feeling disgusted with yourself, you pulled away from his lips. Yunho raised a brow at the sudden gesture. “What’s wrong?” He asked, his slightly concerned tone making your heart shatter into pieces. 

“You should get going. It’s late.” You got up, forcing Yunho to pull off of you. He watched you as you went over to your dresser to pull out a fresh pair of pajamas, completely dumbfounded by your sudden coldness. 

“Are you fucking serious?” He scoffed.

You shook your head, picking up his t-shirt that lay on the floor and tossing it over to him. His eyes flickered in anger and he threw his shirt back on the ground. “I don’t understand, why do you always do this!?” 

You stayed quiet, quickly covering yourself before turning around to face him, keeping your eyes low, feeling too ashamed to meet his. “I’m sorry, but I need you to go.” 

Yunho clenched his jaw. How could you be so cold? How could you invite him in, only to toss him out so abruptly? He thought about how you melted right into his embrace, how you kissed him back with the same amount of passion that he kissed you with. Was any of it real? Or was he too infatuated to notice that you were playing him, again? 

“Why? Is Yeosang coming over? Do you really think that guy cares about you?”

You balled your fists up at the mention of Yeosang. “Stop.” You warned.

“And San? He’d fuck anything with two legs and a heartbeat. Is that what you want?”

“Yes, Yunho, that’s exactly what I want!” You snapped. A silence weighed in before Yunho’s lips curled up in an unexpected smile. 

“What?” You teethed. 

He shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t know what you want. That’s why you keep coming back to me.” 

“Me?” You pointed to yourself, a crooked smile now spread across your lips. “No, it’s you that keeps coming back to me.” You jeered. 

“And you let me! Why do you let me!? Time after time, you take me back without question, why?”

You crossed your arms and looked away from his direction. You felt hot, like the blood in your veins was boiling. You didn’t want to deal with this. You felt stupid for letting him in. Yunho always had questions, so many questions, and you couldn’t give him any answers. Fed up with your silence, Yunho got up and walked towards you, almost closing the gap between you two. You still didn’t look at him. 

“And that night. Why did you come to me? Why didn’t you go to your other boyfriends? You were so different. Why did you act like it never happened the next day?” 

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your expression softened remembering that night. It was so cold and rainy that night, and Yunho felt so warm. He made you feel so loved, so cared for, and for once you felt like you deserved someone like him. But the morning sun gave you some clarity, and you were reminded once again of what happens when you fully give your heart to someone. Yunho didn’t see it now, but he’ll understand it one day. Love is a wasted emotion. It gives and gives, until one day it takes everything back from you, and more. 

“I don’t know.” You sighed. 

That wasn’t good enough for him. He took another step forward, the tips of your noses now just centimeters away from each other. “I’ll tell you why,” He said, his voice softer than earlier. “It’s because you like me. It’s because I’m the only one who really understands you, the only one who sees more to you than just your body. That’s why you keep taking me back. It’s why you came to me that night. You knew you could be vulnerable with me, and that I wouldn’t turn you away, because-” He paused for a moment to lick his lips. “Because I like you too, y/n.” 

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to ignore the sting so that you wouldn’t blink and force them to run down your cheeks. Your chest felt like it was engulfed in flames, making your breathing unsteady. You were too caught up in your emotions to realize that Yunho closed the gap and pressed his lips onto yours, his hands firmly placed at your waist. 

He always kissed you like he wasn’t going to see you for a while. Maybe it was a force of habit considering all the times Yunho had ended things between you two. Or maybe, as he said, he liked you, and he wanted you to know from his touch if his words didn’t suffice. It felt right kissing him, real. Not like all the other times with your boy toys, who only kissed you because that’s just what came naturally when you're both rolling around naked in bed. Yunho never only kissed you on the lips, but everywhere else as well, your eyes, cheeks, forehead, and just every feature of you that made his heart swell and anywhere he could put his lips on if you let him. 

It was so easy. All you had to do was wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back, leave this no strings attached bullshit behind, and let him lead the way. But you were reminded, reminded of him again, the one who took your heart and snapped it into two, the one who lead you to keep people at a distance and hurt them before they hurt you. That’s what you needed to do now, you told yourself. You had to hurt him. It made your heart ache even thinking of hurting Yunho, but you would be doing him a favor, even if he didn’t realize it now. You were damaged goods, not fit for sale. He’d be better off.

You pushed your hands on his chest to get him off you. Yunho, looking at you with such hope and hurt in his eyes, holding onto your hands that you used to keep him at a distance. He didn’t say anything, instead waiting for you to explain. 

Your eyes were down at your feet, too afraid to look him in the eye and say your next words. “I’m sorry Yunho, but I just don’t feel the same.” 

Yunho didn’t speak for a while. You wanted to look up at him, but you knew that seeing his reaction would crush you. You told yourself not to look. It was easier this way. 

“You don’t mean that.” Yunho kept his voice steady, even though he could feel a slight lump forming in his throat. “I know you feel the same, y/n.” 

You shook your head and a few droplets of tears splashed onto the carpet and onto your toes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t.” 

His hands let go of yours and he immediately brushed his fingers under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up. “You really don’t feel what I feel? Then why don’t you look at me and say it?” 

He gazed down at you, waiting for your eyes to meet his, getting impatient with you when they didn’t. “Look at me and say you don’t want me.”

Overwhelmed, you moved your head around and pushed him off of you, too consumed in your rage to realize that for once that night, you were finally meeting his eyes. 

“I don’t want you. I never cared for you. You were just a distraction. Whatever you think was going on, it’s not true. You don’t know me, you don’t know what’s going on in my head, so don’t act as you do! For the love of god Yunho, just get the fuck out!” 

You panted after letting your frustrations out, the room now silent again. Nothing could have prepared you for the look on Yunho’s face right now. His sweet face was painted in constraint, his once cheery and sparkling brown eyes now glossy and downcast. You could feel your heart being ripped out of your chest, and for a moment you wanted to rush over to him and tell him you didn’t mean it, that you’ll do whatever he wants, be whatever he wants, as long as he stops making that face, but your legs stayed immobile and the words tangled up in your throat.

Yunho looked at you for a while, waiting to see if you would take those words back, but you never did. Swallowing the painful lump in his throat, he picked up his shirt from the floor and got dressed. You leaned back on your dresser, watching him as he put on his coat and slipped on his shoes. There was so much time to say something, anything, but neither of you uttered a word, and Yunho understood now that he said all that he needed to say, and that he couldn’t change your mind, even if he tried. 

He was now at your entry door, and you followed behind him, staying back a couple of feet as you prepared to watch him leave your life once and for all. As he held onto the knob, he turned his head slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but decided against it, and went on with turning the knob, his tall frame disappearing behind the closing door. 

You wanted to crawl into a ball and cry right there on the floor, but you stayed strong. You’re not crying over a guy again, you promised yourself. Even if it hurts…It’s for the best.

-

Finals were almost over, and the Library was seeing a reduction in visitors. The staff was partly relieved, enjoying the empty space and not having to be bothered to tell students to be quiet, confiscate their Cheeto bags (even though there’s a bold NO EATING sign at almost every table), and wake up tired students from their naps to tell them the library was closing. But there was one visitor who came almost daily and sat at the same exact spot in the same exact section. The Historical Fiction section.

The librarians didn’t know what his deal was. He’d come in with absolutely nothing, no backpack, no laptop, no textbook. They even doubted he brought his phone. Sometimes, he’d take a book off the historical fiction shelf and crack it open, although, unbeknownst to the library staff, he wasn’t actually reading anything. He tried to, but then his head would get fuzzy and he’d get lost in thought, his eyes darting around every time he heard the Library door open or footsteps approach his section, only for it to be another student or a staff member, and when he’d sigh and look back down at his book, he’d forget where he left off and start from the beginning again.

They didn’t know he was waiting on a girl. If they did, they would probably feel bad for him, and maybe even find his efforts to be a little pathetic. But to Yunho, it didn’t matter to him what they thought. Being the tortured romantic that he was, he still had hope that you two would be together again. He wasn’t going to crawl back to you like all the other times. Instead, he was going to wait. He believed the day would come where you’d grow sick from your passing relationships and realize your true feelings for him. And when you realize that, you’ll come running to the Library where you two first met, and you would find him there, sitting at your table in your special little corner of the Library. He’d greet you with a friendly smile, and pull out a chair for you, and you two would just pick up where you left off as if nothing else ever happened. Maybe then he’d take you out on a real date, maybe to a fancy restaurant which neither of you could pronounce the name of, and afterward, you’d crash at his place and you’d lay in his arms just as you did that night, and he’d whisper corny jokes into your hair, both of you laughing softly until you finally fell asleep. Maybe, after a while of sleeping over, you’d take a liking to his idea of moving into a small and cramped apartment on the outskirts of the city, where there’s no one around to bother you except each other. Maybe. Who knows.

They didn’t know he was waiting on a girl. If they did, they would probably feel bad for him, and maybe even find his efforts to be a little pathetic. But to Yunho, it didn’t matter what they thought. Being the tortured romantic that he was, he still had hope that you two would be together again. He wasn’t going to crawl back to you like all the other times. Instead, he was going to wait. He believed the day would come where you’d grow sick from your passing relationships and realize your true feelings for him. And when you realize that, you’ll come running to the place where you two first met, and you would find him there, sitting at your table in your special little corner of the Library. He’d greet you with a friendly smile, and pull out a chair for you, and you two would just pick up where you left off as if nothing else ever happened. Maybe then he’d take you out on a real date, maybe to a fancy restaurant which neither of you could pronounce the name of, and afterward, you’d crash at his place and you’d lay in his arms just as you did that night, and he’d whisper corny jokes into your hair, both of you laughing softly until you finally fell asleep. Maybe, after a while of sleeping over, you’d take a liking to his idea of moving into a small and cramped apartment on the outskirts of the city, where there’s no one around to bother you except each other. Maybe. Who knows.

-

Finals were almost over, and the Library was seeing a reduction in visitors. The staff was partly relieved, enjoying the empty space and not having to be bothered to tell students to be quiet, confiscate their Cheeto bags (even though there’s a bold NO EATING sign at almost every table), and wake up tired students from their naps to tell them they were closing. But there was one visitor who came almost daily and sat at the same exact spot in the same exact section like clockwork. The Historical Fiction section. 

The librarians didn’t know what his deal was. He’d come in with absolutely nothing, no backpack, no laptop, and no textbook to indicate if he was taking a summer class at least. Sometimes, he’d take a book off the historical fiction shelf and crack it open, although, unbeknownst to the library staff, he wasn’t actually reading anything. He tried to, but then his head would get fuzzy and he’d get lost in thought, his eyes darting around every time he heard the Library door open or footsteps approach his section, only for it to be another student or a staff member, and when he’d sigh and look back down at his book, he’d forget where he left off and start from the beginning again. 

They didn’t know he was waiting on a girl. If they did, they would probably feel bad for him, and maybe even find his efforts to be a little pathetic. But to Yunho, it didn’t matter what they thought. Being the tortured romantic that he was, he still had hope that you two would be together again. He wasn’t going to crawl back to you like all the other times. Instead, he was going to wait. He believed the day would come where you’d grow sick from your passing relationships and realize your true feelings for him. And when you realize that, you’ll come running to the Library where you two first met, and you would find him there, sitting at your table in your special little corner of the Library. He’d greet you with a friendly smile, and pull out a chair for you, and you two would pick up where you left off as if nothing else ever happened. Maybe then he’d take you out on a real date, maybe to a fancy restaurant which neither of you could pronounce the name of, and afterward, you’d crash at his place and lay in his arms just as you did that night, and he’d whisper corny jokes into your hair, both of you laughing softly until you finally fell asleep. Maybe, after a while of sleeping over, you’d take a liking to his idea of moving into a small and cramped apartment on the outskirts of the city, where there’s no one around to bother you except each other. Maybe. Who knows. 

[cheeeeseburger]

Text me first and I'll definitely text you back

Lando Norris x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: English is not my first language, apologies for the mistakes! Enjoy!

It was 1 am, and you could not sleep. LIke at all. Your room was too hot, too stuffy, but also too cold at the same time. Your bed felt empty. To pass time, you were scrolling on your phone, when suddenly a perfect distraction popped up. It was a notification from your ex, Lando Norris. You two hadn’t talked in a hot minute.

Hey

I thought I had blocked you

Guess not

Too bad

I heard you broke up with that other guy

Yeah lol

He seemed nice tho.

Why do you care??? You didn’t even know him

Relax, I just wanted to check up on you

Well, reminding me of how great my ex was is a great way too do it, dumbass

Why are you so fucking rude to me? You’re nice to everyone

Don’t worry, all my exes get the same treatment, you’re not special xoxo

Wow ok.

Glad to see we’re on the same page!

I don’t think we are tho

What do you mean?

Idk why you’re treating me like shit

Huh? Probably cause we’re not together anymore?

You used to be so nice to me before

Are you drunk or something? Maybe high?

No?

Then why are you not getting that I’m not going to be as loving, because we BROKE UP!

You’re so mean, I don’t recognize you

Cry about it with Jay

Who tf is Jay?

The guy I just broke up with

Oh ok. Did you change your hair colour because of it?

Yeah, it’s my post break-up look.

It looks bad.

Omg, you’re calling me rude? You’re so fck rude.

Sorry, but you should go back to the colour you had when we were dating

Did you just text me at 1 am to hate on my hair? Bitch

No

If you think I’m desperate for rebound sex and I’ll fall right into your bed, you’re dreaming buddy.

I just wanted to talk to you, but I don’t even know why I bother

Idk why either tbh

Do you not want to talk to me ever again?

I mean, that was the plan lol

The two years we shared together mean nothing?

They used to, yeah. That’s called moving on.

Just like you’re going to do to that guy?

Yes. If it makes you feel better, I still sleep with your hoodie sometimes, while I threw all his stuff out.

You do? That’s cute

Don’t get any ideas. I also still have the hoodie of my boyfriend before you

Wow, you sure know how to make a guy feel special

Hey, you texted me first. Idk what you expected

I expected you to be nice to me. You used to be so sweet

Don’t worry, the other guys still find me sweet xoxo

I’m so sick of your attitude. Are you trying to make me jealous or something? Or do you just like to be a bitch to me?

You’re the mean one, actually.

I think I will block you.

Do it, pussy

I don’t ever want to talk to you again

Ok wait, no. I’m sorry, Lando. For real

Thank you, finally.

I can’t believe I’m suggesting this, but would you like to grab lunch sometime? Or coffee?

Damn, ok. I did not expect that

It’s fine if you don’t want to

No, no. I want to. What about that dinner that we used to go to? Next Thursday?

Good location, can it be Thursday in two weeks tho? I want to have time to change my hair colour lmao

Okay. I’ll see you there at 12?

See you there, Lando.

Goodnight, sweet dreams

What the hell was that?

Two weeks later, your nerves were about to be the death of you. You were pacing your bedroom, frantically picking the perfect outfit. How do you dress to impress your ex you’re sure you’re going to fall right back for? You finally ended up chosing a cute dress that gave you a great silhouette.

Little did you know, Lando was doing the same, trying to find a shirt that would make him look good for you. He really wanted to make a good impression. This was kind of an interview, and he was applying for the role of the ex-boyfriend that you want to get back with.

When you entered the dinner, the déjà vu was overwhelming. Lando was already sitting at the booth that used to be your booth, the one where you first kissed, the one where he used to let his hand slide underneath your dress. You had worn a dress with that very same memory in mind.

“Hi.” You gave him a warm smile. Gosh, he looked good. He got up to give you a small hug. He smelled even better than you remembered. He seemed to think you looked nice to, judging from his eyes that looked you up and down and his slight blush.

“Hey. You look gorgeous.” He immediately noticed your hair that you had dyed back to the colour he preferred.

“You look good too, Lando. Great, even.” He seemed pleased at your comment.

“No trouble finding the place, I hope?” You laughed at his joke and you both sat down on opposite sides of the booth.

“Don’t worry, even though you did not pick me up, we’ve been here enough that I remember the directions by heart.” You stuck your tongue at him.

“I can pick you up, next time.” His eyes were full of hope.

“Next time?” This time, it was your voice that was full of hope.

The waitress interrupted you to give you the menus. You shared a knowing smile with Lando.

“Is it still a Caesar salad for you? With a side of fries?”

“And a burger for you?” You two laughed.

“It seems like things are still the same, huh?” You rested your head on your hand to give him a dreamy look.

“They haven’t changed at all, no.” He grabbed your other hand to put it in his on the table. You felt sparks at the tip of your fingers, but they quickly moved all over your body. This was going way more smoothly than you had expected. The waitress went over to note your order, and you couldn’t help but to feel thrilled at the familiarity of it all.

“So, how have you been?” Lando asked.

“Good, good, you?” Small talk was usually difficult, but it was horrible when it was with your ex.

“Good too.” Oh no, you were not about to spend the entirety of your lunch date with basic questions.

“Listen, Lando. I wanted to apologize for the other night. I was rude for no reason, and I’m sorry.” He rubbed little circles on your hand with his thumb.

“It’s fine, really. I wasn’t so nice either.” He laughed in embarrassment, but you just smiled at him.

“So, we’re good then?” You really hoped you were.

“We are good.” You shook his hand to seal the deal. The handshake hid a thousand more meanings than just “we’re good”. It was filled with “I’m glad we’re seeing each other again” and “why did we ever stop?”. The waitress brought your food, and you ate in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the moment.

“We should get ice cream after that,” You suggested shyly. Getting ice cream was code for “I don’t want this date to stop yet”.

“That was always the plan. I’m not a cheap date.” You laughed at him.

“It would be a crime to eat here without getting ice cream after. It was our tradition when we dated, remember?” He smiled at you.

“Of course, I remember. I also remember what came after.” You instantly blushed. A typical date for you and Lando always ended in his bed.

You finished eating. Lando picked up the bill, as usual.

“Thank you for paying, Lando. You know that it can be my turn to pay sometimes?”

“Nonsense. I’m trying to impress you. Is it working?” He smirked.

“Yeah, it’s working, baby. A little too well.” You flushed, because the word baby had slipped off your tongue so easily that you didn’t notice until you saw his face. He was clearly happy to see you using it again. When he put his hand in the small of your back to guide you towards the exit, you didn’t say anything. And when you walked towards the ice cream shop and your hands brushed, you put yours in his.

“I’m going to have a small chocolate sundae please, and he’ll have a large caramel sundae. Thank you!” You ordered the ice cream, once again remembering what you two always get.

“I’m happy that we’re out here together again,” said Lando, in a moment of vulnerability. You could not resist any longer. You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him. The kiss was sweeter than the ice cream you were about to eat. “Me too, baby. So damn happy,” you replied as you pulled away, blushing. The smile he gave you made you want to kiss him again a thousand times.

You sat near a window to enjoy your sundaes. Lando looked positively jealous of your spoon. When it was time to leave, he put your hand in his.

“I had a great time today,” he said, outside of the shop.

“Me too. Do you think we could do it again?” You asked shyly.

“Anytime.” You got on your tiptoes to lock your arms behind his neck and to kiss him. You two must have looked adorable to anyone passing by. This kiss felt exactly like the first one you and Lando shared, when you first started seeing each other. When you got back to your feet, he tucked away a few loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“I like your hair.”

“Thanks. I changed it because of you,” you replied, laughing.

“You shouldn’t have. I was just mad, the other night. You looked beautiful then too.” You looked away, embarrassed at his compliment.

“I guess I better go, then.” He immediately protested. “No don’t go yet. We can go back to my place if you’d like. Or we can just grab coffee if you prefer!” It was cute to see him rambling.

You kissed him on the cheek. “Your place is more than fine, baby.” Lando gave you a huge smile and took your hand to guide you towards his car.

“I’m glad you’re coming home with me. It’s what I was hoping for,” he said as he was opening your car door for you.

“Me too, baby. We can pick up my car tomorrow morning.” He winked at you.

“Or the next day. Or the day after.” What a flirt.

You were probably not going to stay single for very long.

[live-laugh-lenney]

platform roulette | arthurtv

i've seen so so so many of these on my dashboard recently and i loved every single one i read/saw so lots of inspiration has come from it... testing the waters... seeing how well they go down... :)))

yourinstagram never too early to start on the grind. (but first, i need an iced coffee).

user1 where are you going??

user2 that's st pancras right?? international girly!!

user3 is this for an arthur hill video?? man's taking us all international now!! can't wait for the banger video you put together <3333

arthurnfhill Bloody hell, you're there early. -> yourinstagram hurry up, maybe?? -> arthurnfhill @/yourinstagram George was late waking up. Honest. -> georgeclarkeey @/yourinstagram @/arthurnfhill False. I think you will find that it was Arthur making us late... slept through that alarm.

user4 An Arthur Hill x George Clarke video incoming! -> yourinstagram don't you dare forget the little cherub that is @/arthurtv. -> arthurtv @/yourinstagram What have I told you about calling me that??

arthurtv Not very summer attire that jumper... Am I the only one that will be wearing shorts today?? -> yourinstagram preparing for any kind of weather, i guess. you never know what'll happen.

user5 the arthur hill reference in the caption killed me. -> yourinstagram it's a certified banger. (the coffee, not the song, btw). -> user5 @/yourinstagram howling. i love you so much

-

yourinstagram posted a story

[caption] filming something spectacular today 🎥 tagged; arthurtv, arthurnfhill, georgeclarkeey

-

yourinstagram i see you girlies are starved of content. i hope you're hungry...

user1 she's one of us.

user2 oh good lord. where are you?

chrismd10 Thank you so much. My tummy is full up now. -> yourinstagram i left my phone unattended and now have a whole folder in my phone full of their shenanigans today if you want them for the bank later on? ;) -> arthurtv @/yourinstagram Please don't do that.

user3 why is she there??? who is she??? -> yourinstagram i'm one of arthur's videographers, babe... have been for a while. feeding you girls the content you deserve. all the credit that goes to him should go to meee <33

-> user4 you deserve an award for a, the insanely good content you give us. and b, having to deal with the insanity of men when they're drunk. -> yourinstagram The three of them turn into children when they get together and have a few drinks. It's funny watching it unfold.

user5 oh good lord. george and the two arthur's with alcohol can only mean one thing: trouble. -> yourinstagram you're correct. today was like going out with three kids. you'll be able to feel my pain in the video. just you wait for the video to be posted and you'll understand.

-

yourinstagram posted a story

[caption] the perks of filming with arthur hill means i get to break into the arthur hill bank account and order the expensive beers. 🍺 tagged; arthurtv, georgeclarkeey, arthurnfhill

-

yourinstagram we somehow ended up in deal and it's become my favourite seaside town this year. platform roulette coming soon!

user1 what the hell have you been doing today?

user2 please tell us when it'll be out. i'm so so excited for this.

georgeclarkeey Of all the content you took and videoed today, you posted that weasel? -> yourinstagram @/georgeclarkeey he's a cute weasel?? -> arthurtv I'd rather be called cherub. -> yourinstagram @arthurtv sorry, my cherub weasel. <33

arthurtv We should go definitely back. -> yourinstagram will you also pay for my train fare like @/arthurnfhill did for me today?? -> arthurtv @/yourinstagram Of course. Not very gentlemanly of me to make my girlfriend pay for a date. -> arthurnfhill @/yourinstagram It was work-related. Wouldn't have paid for you if it was just for fun. x -> yourinstagram @arthurnfhill my resignation will be in the post.

user3 Has YN just hard-launched her relationship with Arthur? -> user1 check out the comments under his comment above. without a doubt... they've not just hard-launched them, they've practically shoved it down our throats. -> user3 @/user1 Oh my god. -> user2 @user1 I KNEW IT!!!! STAN TWITTER CAN DO ONE!!!

[scoops-aboy86]

Break Free (Secret Admirer pt 9)

This is the last chapter, but there will be an epilogue posted soon.

wc: 4663 / rated: T / set after season 3 / also on ao3

It ends with Steve’s hands sliding into Eddie’s hair—damp from sweat and a little tangled and stiff from whatever product he uses to make it look so full when, actually, the curls seem fine and almost wispy against Steve’s fingers—to cradle him closer. Eddie sways back, big brown eyes glazed and slow-blinking but coming back from whatever stratosphere the kiss had sent him to. Instead of letting go, Steve lets Eddie slip through his fingers until his hands come to rest on the guy’s shoulders. And then, when Eddie starts to scuttle backwards, he keeps a loose grip on his forearms that slides down until they’re nearly holding hands. 

“Eddie,” Steve tries desperately, stomach sinking. His lips and heart feel bruised. “No, please don’t go, it’s okay.”

For a moment, Eddie’s palms settle in his hands. Those wide eyes focus on him, seemingly with great effort, and Eddie starts shaking his head and muttering, “Shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have…” Slurs the words a little. 

“It’s okay,” Steve says again, softer, trying his best to be gentle, imploring. “It’s okay that you did, don’t worry about shouldn’t. I am the opposite of mad, alright?”

Eddie hesitates, then adds uncertainly, “M’drunk.”

“Yeah, you are, kinda,” Steve agrees. “I mean, kind of a lot. I’m not, but I’m… I’m good, baby. Please just stay and talk to me? For a minute?”

“Oh,” he says in the smallest voice Steve’s ever heard—smaller than he thought Eddie even could be. It sounds a little like something breaking, and everything about him seems to shrink in on himself. “So you know. That I’m me.”

“Yeah, I know you’re my secret admirer.” Something is breaking in Steve too, just watching it happen. “Look, Eddie, you’re a theatrical guy. Maybe you had an idea about some big, dramatic reveal where everything would fall right into place with, with an impressive speech like something out of your letters. You’re so good with words, man, so I can see it. I get the vision. I don’t know your voice as well as I want to yet, but I know how you sound from those letters because you’re so expressive and smart about that shit, fuck high school and what the teachers might say, but…” 

He rubs his thumbs gently over the pulse points at Eddie’s wrists, feeling how it races, and desperately clings to eye contact through the head tilt that sends curly hair draping across his face. 

“I don’t know what you had in mind for this, or if you could even picture it because it’s such a huge thing after all the build-up. But maybe this is okay? I mean, yeah, you’re drunk, that’s not ideal I guess. But I could go inside with you and get you some water, make sure you don’t puke again, get some aspirin out for you to take in the morning… and we could try that kiss again when you’ve sobered up. What do you say?”

Immediately Steve feels like an idiot for that last sentence. It sounds more like something he’d say when offering Dustin ice cream to cheer him up after missing a radio call with Suzie or something, not offering to take care of someone he’s hopeful about being able to date. He can feel his face heating up… and after a moment, Eddie raises one hand to very, very gently touch his cheek. The one that’s still bruised under the makeup. 

“Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, and that’s a new one. Maybe a little girly, but Steve kind of likes it because it makes their names match: Eddie and Stevie. “You’d really…?”

“Offer to take care of you? I think I just did.” Steve allows himself a tentative smile. “Kiss you again? Absolutely. I would maybe direct you to a toothbrush and toothpaste first, maybe some mouthwash, but—”

Eddie shakes his head with a wet snort. “Oh fuck off, don’t… don’ rub it in.” He blinks, one eye slightly slower on the uptake than the other but for the most part pretty well coordinated. “We can go in. You, you don’ care ‘s a trailer?”

“I’m literally considering getting one of my own when I move out,” Steve tells him. Because he has been, there aren’t a lot of options for a single dude in Hawkins that don’t involve a sublet basement or room above a garage or something else to that effect. Maybe if he had roommates to split the cost of renting a house with… but all the friends he has now are still in school. 

So. Yeah, Forest Hills trailer park had been on his radar before tonight. Right now, if tonight goes well, it’s honestly at the top of his list.

Big brown eyes blink at him again. “But where’ll you put your pool?” Eddie asks, dead serious in the way only little kids or the very drunk can pull off. 

“It doesn’t travel well.” Smiling, he reaches across and pops the passenger door open. “Come on now, you need more water. No, hey hey hey, wait for me to come around—!”

~

Eddie wakes up queasy and with a pounding headache. Definitely hungover, but vaguely aware that he should feel worse. 

He has a fuzzy memory of waking up in the middle of the night (or morning?) to hurl, and being coaxed afterwards to drink more water, nibble his way through a piece of toast, and swallow a couple of pills. Aspirin, probably, based on the fact that he’s not hallucinating right now, which—he’d had a bad experience once when he grabbed the wrong tin, okay, he does not want to think about that right now. 

…

Upon further consideration, the fuzzy memory was probably a dream. Because he remembers it being Steve fucking Harrington doing the coaxing. Coaxing, and blushing deliciously whenever Eddie’s fingers had brushed against his, so of course Drunk Eddie had made a point of letting that happen as often as possible.

Nice dream, though. 

…

Why is it so warm? Like, yeah it’s summer and the trailer has one dinky AC unit in the living room window that doesn’t really do shit, and it doesn’t feel like he’s slept until the hottest part of the day, but. He’s holding a pillow to his chest or something? Damn thing is radiating heat. 

He should move. 

Ugh. He doesn’t want to move. His stomach rolls less when he stays still. 

…

The pillow is breathing. It’s holding his forearms where they’re crossed over its stomach with big hands, grip lax with sleep. 

…

Wait.

That’s no moon. 

Eddie tenses, finally starting to actually wake up.

Help me Obi Wan Kenobi, you’re… a fictional character and I’m SPOONING STEVE GODDAMN HARRINGTON.

The only thing Eddie doesn’t get is how he could’ve gotten his arms around the dude like that without waking him up. He’d been a gross, vomiting mess last night, surely Steve wouldn’t have chosen to cuddle up. Maybe Wayne had come home from work and sent him crawling in here to share the mattress instead of risking a perfectly good spine on their old monster of a couch… and then Eddie had wrapped around him somehow? While they both slept?

He tries to sit up, but immediately regrets it when his head throbs, his stomach clenches, and he realizes his left arm is numb from where it’s wedged under Steve. It’s enough to make him groan out loud, and of course that’s when Steve starts to stir. 

There’s nowhere to run. Even if he rolls away, the farthest he can go is flat on his back between Steve and the wall. It’s just a twin mattress, there’s not exactly— Oh god, and he’d spilled bong water on it again yesterday but hadn’t gotten around to stripping the sheets off and doing laundry yet. He’d figured he’d hit the party and afterwards bribe Jeff to take him by the grocery store for baking soda. But that hadn’t happened, because apparently he’d decided to get blackout drunk instead and now he’s in bed with Steve Harrington and, and, and—

“Eddie, Eds, hey, breathe!”

Steve is rolled over and facing him now, propped up on one elbow and eyes wide with concern. He has a hand pressed to Eddie’s chest over his heart—and this is how Eddie realizes they’re both shirtless, fantastic, absolute cherry on top of the freakout sundae that is this morning—while holding Eddie’s non-numb hand over his own. 

“Like this,” Steve tells him, and takes a slow breath in and out. 

In and out. Eddie tries to copy him. 

In and out. 

When trying finally dissolves into actually doing it, into breathing like a human again, something in Steve’s expression loosens in relief. “Fuck,” he sighs, sagging a little but still careful not to pin Eddie’s arm again. “I’m glad that worked, I’ve never done that with anyone besides Robin before.” He bites his lip, gaze scanning over Eddie’s face like a hot brand. There’s still fading evidence of a massive shiner around his left eye, more obvious than Eddie remembers it being last night and with hints of inexpertly wiped-away concealer here and there. “Are you okay?”

“No?” Eddie manages to croak. “How did— Why are you— What did I do?”

Because he must have done something to end up in this situation, something which he has absolutely zero recollection of, to end up in this predicament, wearing only his boxers and one sock, cuddled up to the guy he’s in love with.

Who is currently wearing a borrowed pair of Eddie’s shorts. Jesus H. Christ. 

And yet, somehow Steve manages to look bashful about the whole predicament. “I, uh. Kind wanted to make sure you got home safe, because you said you didn’t have a ride.”

Eddie rakes his brain for an explanation for that, because he had had a ride. And, fuck, where the hell is his lunchbox? He winces and holds up a wait a minute finger, because while this crisis is important, he literally cannot afford to have lost that and it’s making the bottom fall out of his stomach in a completely different direction. “I need to make a call. It’s very important.”

“Oh, uh… okay.”

There’s some shuffling, not made any easier by the pins and needles feeling now rippling through Eddie’s left arm, but eventually Steve manages to sit up and swing his legs off the side of the bed so Eddie doesn’t have to suffer the mortifying ordeal of physically clambering over him. It’s the one saving grace of the day so far. He stumbles out of his bedroom, mindful to keep quiet but still glaring down the length of his trailer where Wayne is asleep in his cot, sleeping soundly while his only nephew suffers. 

“Pick up pick up pick up,” he chants under his breath while the phone rings, using the mantra to keep his breathing steady. “Pick u—Oh hey, hi, good morning, is Jeff home? Uh, awake? I need to speak with him on an extremely urgent matter. Life or death. Please tell him that. Thank you?”

Jeff isn’t a morning person. Neither is Eddie, usually, but here he is at… Christ, only 8:42am on a Saturday morning, twisting the phone cord around one finger that it’s starting to lose feeling again. He just about jumps out of his skin when he hears Jeff’s gruff, “What the fuck, Eddie?”

“Goooood morning to you too,” Eddie blusters, trying to sound insanely cheerful rather than panicked. “Quick question, did I give you my lunchbox last night?”

The immediate groan mostly answers that question. “Yeah, Munson, you did. And I’m hauling your ass home next time if this is the thanks I get for letting you stay and get wasted.”

Eddie sags against the flimsy wall separating the kitchen from the bathroom. “Oh thank fuck. Sorry man, thank you, I’ll… It won’t happen again, I’ll never call you before noon for the rest of my days, I swear.”

“Yeah right.” Jeff yawns. “What the fuck has you so wired this early, man? Or are you still awake from last night?”

I wish. “Nope, weird dream,” Eddie replies. “I’ll, uh, swing by later. In the afternoon. Go back to sleep.”

“You know that once I wake up I can’t get back to—”

Eddie feels bad for hanging up on his best friend, but it’s not like he can tell him what’s actually going on. There’s the whole gay thing, for one, but even having a female jock in his bed would send shock waves throughout his tight little friend group, so panicking at Jeff about the remaining, and once again much more looming issue isn’t an option and never has been. Probably never will be. Maybe. Eddie doesn’t know. He has a Steve Harrington to deal with.

He doesn’t even have the presence of mind to check how he looks in the mirror. Too much pressure; he already knows it’s not going to be pretty after a night of drinking, and whatever his bed head has decided to do on feels lopsided and tangled and weird. 

Or maybe he’s overthinking it. He probably is. 

Okay.

Okay, he can do this.

… He can run out the trailer door, boxers and one sock be damned, and never look back. 

No, no, he can do this. He’d had the balls to start writing the letters in the first place, he can deal with whatever inexplicable fallout has come of it! What’s the worst that could happen? 

Maybe Steve had stayed to tell him to stop writing the letters. So he could reject him face to face in the light of day, without the risk of alcohol washing the memory of it away. Maybe even reveal that he’d figured Eddie out a long time ago and played along, that it was all just a big joke. Prank the freak, right?

Just for a second, Eddie lets himself contemplate bolting. Sinks down on his haunches with his reddening face in his hands and thinks it through: how he could get to Jeff’s on foot, pick up his seed money and his guitar, buy a bus ticket out of Hawkins and maybe find an apartment when he gets to Indy, maybe catch another bus headed for Chicago, New York, Los Angeles. He doesn’t have a high school diploma but shop was the only class he’s ever passed with flying colors, so he knows he can find work somewhere even if it sucks starting out. Set up in some city where no one knows his name and no one from home (except Wayne, of course, he could never cut Wayne out) knows his mailing address. No more letters from Steve, and it’s only a matter of time before Steve breaks out of his parents house and then Eddie really won’t be able to write to him anymore. And then life would be just… like that. Never knowing if it could have worked out after all, but by then it’d be too late. Forever. 

A world without Steve. Without sunshine. Without air. 

Okay. 

Eddie groans, scrubs his hands over his face, and reluctantly goes back down the hall to his bedroom. Without a stop to check the bathroom mirror, he’s already hanging on by a thread as it is. 

~

Waking up to Eddie having a panic attack wasn’t the best way this morning could have started out. The longer Steve waits for him to come back the more awkward he feels, enough that he gets up briefly to try and find his shirt. He fails, in all the mess, but opens a nearby drawer and pulls out the first shirt he can find: something so faded he can’t even read it, with the sleeves hacked unevenly off. 

Not that this makes him feel any less presumptuous about being here.

Eddie clearly doesn’t remember giving him a ‘grand tour’ of the trailer, or ending it with “And this is where all the magic hap’ens” while dragging Steve into his room, or whining for him to change out of his clothes and and get some sleep. He probably doesn’t even remember what had happened in the car—the music, the kiss, the pleading confession on Steve’s part. 

Actually, maybe it’s better that Eddie doesn’t remember the confession part. It was kind of embarrassing. Steve could probably do better. 

… Except he’ll probably have to do it all over again, which suddenly seems a lot worse. Shit. There are a stupid number of butterflies in his stomach and it feels like they’re about to form a tornado in there. 

He nearly jumps out of his skin when the bedroom door opens. Eddie slinks back inside and leans against it until it’s closed behind him again. “Sorry, had to check on my… illegally gotten gains.”

Steve almost frowns before he remembers that Eddie had been at the party in the first place to sell. He himself has a plastic baggie in his jeans pocket (carefully folded with the rest of his clothes on top of the messy dresser) that Eddie had literally sold to him. “Oh. Shit, man, I didn’t even think to check on that last night. Sorry.”

Eddie laughs thinly and slumps his way from the door to the bed, grabbing a t-shirt off the floor, sniffing it, and wiggling into it along the way. He keeps a carefully neutral distance between them—not close enough to touch, but not so far away that it seems like he’s avoiding him. (Or maybe Steve is overthinking it.) “I don’t think you have to apologize for not helping me enough, man. Pretty sure I’m the one that should be saying sorry for taking up so much of your time.”

That makes Steve frown. Is Eddie talking about last night, or about the letters too? Does he even remember that Steve knows? Butterfly tornado is officially a go. “It’s fine. Like I told you last night, I don’t mind helping.”

“Yeah…” Not quite looking at him, Eddie reaches up to rake the bangs out of his face, even though they fall right back into the same curly fringe just covering his eyebrows. That’s when he seems to notice the shirt Steve has on, pupils dilating slightly before he looks resolutely away and fidgeting. “I don’t exactly remember last night, but I’m pretty sure ‘helping me out’ shouldn’t include letting me grope you in my sleep.”

“I’ll take an octopus over a starfish any day,” he replies immediately, and truthfully. Embarrassingly. Lately, as the nightmares have started to calm down enough to catch some actual rest sometimes, Robin has become more prone to stretching out in her sleep. Not, like—she doesn’t stretch out so quickly that she’s flailing around and giving him more bruises, but the crowding is pervasive. Like the goddamn butterflies. 

The look Eddie gives him is flat, tired, and a little manic, plucking absently at a loose thread dangling from the bottom of his shirt. Which, upon further inspection, is inside out. “Steve. What am I missing here?”

Last night, after Steve had finally found him again in the crowd, he’d kept grinning and making dimples pop in both cheeks. If there hadn’t been so many people around, and if Eddie hadn’t been so drunk, Steve probably would have kissed him long before they got to the car. 

Steve takes a deep breath, lips tingling with the memory and urge to do it again. First, though, they have to get through this part. Again. 

He reaches out, taking Eddie’s hand from where it’s fussing with the shirt, and threads their fingers together. The chunky rings Eddie usually wears are still on the nearest flat surface to the bed, but this hand still has the thinner band—an old mood ring, Steve thinks, though the stone always seems dark so maybe it’s broken. He looks at their hands together, and feels something settle in his chest. 

Nervous as he is, this feels right. When he hazards a glance at Eddie’s face, it’s pink. Also angled down to stare at their linked hands, but Eddie is looking at him through unfairly long eyelashes. 

“Steve?” Eddie whispers, sounding… what? Afraid, awed? He’s got to be nervous too, it’s written into the tension in his slightly scrawny frame, looking smaller without all his usual layers of denim and leather. 

“I know you wrote those letters,” Steve murmurs, leaning into the carefully curated distance between them. “And I still like you. I keep telling you I like you, but you keep being surprised. Just let me want this, okay?” 

He squeezes Eddie’s hand again, watches as those eyelashes flutter slightly with the pressure. 

“Last night I said a bunch of stuff you probably don’t remember, and… I kind of don’t remember exactly either, now that I have to say it again?” Steve gives him a sheepish smile. The damn butterflies have stopped doing anything as coherent as tornadoing and are just flying around like lunatics. “Basically, you’re smart and fun and really good with words, which I’m not, but after you kissed me—”

Eddie’s eyes snap up, open wide as they’ll go. “I did what?”

“Shut up, let me finish. I was listening to that new tape you sent me on the way to the party because you make me feel good. Like everything is okay and I can do anything, even talk to you at a party. And I kissed back, by the way, and I really want to do it again now that you’ll remember it, if you still want to. But the point is—” he squeezes Eddie’s hand again “—I like being your sweetheart. I want to keep being that, but with face-to-face privileges this time. As… your boyfriend?”

He’s never seen anyone’s jaw drop outside of cartoons, but that’s what happens. Eddie’s pale cheeks go from pink to outright red, a flush that travels down his neck, and Steve can’t help but wonder how far down it goes. Stupid inside-out shirt that’s in the way now. 

“I,” Eddie says weakly. “I think I might pass out.”

“Well, I caught you the first time,” Steve jokes, and only feels a little bad for it when Eddie hides behind his free hand with a groan. And then second thoughts hit. “Um, pass out in a good way though, right?”

“Yes,” Eddie whines behind his palm. He peers out at Steve between his fingers, the hand in Steve’s gripping him back tightly. It makes the butterflies still swarming in Steve’s stomach suddenly feel a lot friendlier. “Fuck, definitely a good way, sweetheart. I was just… really braced for this to not work out, just in case, and instead I just woke up with a boyfriend.” His hand lowers just a bit, pulling a lock of his curly hair over his mouth. “And, apparently, a first kiss with you that I don’t even remember.”

“I can fix that,” Steve says eagerly, leaning forward—just a bit, he’ll wait for the official go-ahead, but god, now he’s focused on Eddie’s plush, bitten lips. He wants to feel them on his again. To feel the sparks, that rightness that he’s been missing since Nancy. The early days with Nancy, anyway… Back when she’d been just as in it as he’d been, before Barb died and monsters started crawling out of the woodwork on a semi-regular basis. 

Steve wants. 

Eddie looks like he wants too, gaze growing heated as he licks his lips in anticipation, but still his hand and hair are in the way. “I should, uh, brush my teeth…”

“Already did a few hours ago,” Steve assures him with a chuckle. “You used so much toothpaste I thought for sure you’d gag and lose that toast and aspirin I finally got into you, but you insisted on your ‘god-given right to hygiene  and tonsil tennis’ and threatened to duel me over it.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie groans, squeezing his eyes shut briefly. “Can’t believe you’re still here after that.” 

Then it seems to occur to him that Steve is still here, and Eddie frees both hands and lunges forward, their mouths connecting just shy of too hard. 

Their bodies press together a second later and Steve lets momentum carry him to the mattress, the planes of Eddie’s body overlaying his. One arm goes around Eddie’s waist to keep him close and the fingers of his other hand sink into that sleep-wild mane of curls. The butterflies have dissolved, leaving his heart beating at its cage of still-healing ribs—which Eddie keeps himself propped up on his elbows just enough to not put pressure on. Steve’s lips part in a pleased sigh when he realizes, and it’s equally an invitation to deepen the kiss, his whole body tingling with glee when Eddie immediately accepts. 

It’s the opposite of the first time, which had been slow-fast and uncoordinated, desperate. This starts at a hundred miles per hour, even while chaste, and only intensifies as Eddie licks his way into Steve’s mouth. Firm and smooth, and, fuck, Eddie is good at this. Good enough that there’s a little green flicker of jealousy in Steve’s gut, in amidst the red hot coals of excitement, at the thought of Eddie making out with other guys—but he’d picked Steve to write love letters to. 

And even though Steve has been the lead when kissing girls, with extremely few exceptions, he’s happy to follow wherever Eddie wants to go. 

Just when he’s fighting off the urge to gasp for air, Eddie breaks the kiss without going anywhere, both of them panting against each other’s lips. And then Eddie presses close again and it’s even slower, savoring, tasting. Steve is floating with it, kissing back on pure instinct because everything beneath his skin has gone molten and glowing. He doesn’t have to think, because he’s the one being guided. He’s held in the gentle grasp of Eddie’s hand coming to cradle his cheek; he is loved. 

~

Dear Steve,

I hope this is not untoward; I have not written to you before, nor am I in the habit of writing letters to anyone. But as I’m no stranger to wielding a pen, I hope these words might convey the depth of feeling I hope to—no, that I must convey. 

You’ve looked so sad, for months now. It makes my heart ache to comfort you; to smooth the crease between your brows with my thumbs and shield you from the cruel world with its untold horrors. I don’t know if this will help, but I have to try. 

You, Steve Harrington, are loved. 

We’ve existed in each other’s periphery for years, enough that you might recognize my name or face if I dared to reveal them. For my part, I don’t think a day has gone by since the first time I saw you that you haven’t been on my mind. It’s as though there’s a spotlight in every room; whenever you’re there it always shines on you. I’ve seen from the way you share the contents of your lunch tray without a second thought, the way you work to cheer up your teammates after a bad game or what have you. You’re kind, Steve. While I can’t say I care for some of the company you used to keep, as some of them are real gold star assholes, even with them I could tell that you tended to give more than you took. I grew up without someone like that in my life for a long time, but I’ve come to hold it in the highest regard and you have it.

That’s all, for now. I’m going to slip this in your locker. Maybe I’ll hang around, try to see if any of it makes you smile, because god that’s such a sight. If it does, maybe I’ll write again. Try to break up a little more of that dark cloud hanging over your head, sweetheart. In the meantime, and forevermore, I shall remain—

Your Secret Admirer

Tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @steviewashere @cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve

@rozzieroos @lunaraindrop @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls

@matchingbatbites @ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor

@whalesharksart @thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme

@dauntlessdiva @nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever

@goosesister @dolphincliffs @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @beckkthewreck @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao

@kurofuckingshi16 @bookworm0690 @millseyes-world @live-laugh-love-dietrich @the-tenth-mus-e

[reorientation]

I'm very late to this kink but I think I've been in it for years? Not even on purpose.

I live with my roommates, me and my three guy friends 💗 which is funny because it just worked out that way. Anyway, years ago I went through this awful break up and we'll just leave at that. I was crazy about this girl and it like actually messed me up when she broke up with me. So in a really weird mental space but just trying to move on from it, I keep getting crazy drunk with my friends, partying through the pain lol

One in particular, we're pretty tight, I'll call him Zach here. So Zach and I were really close at that time, like really really close, and one night we start doing kind of sexual stuff while really drunk. This wasn't a thing between us at all before that night and I can't remember exactly what lead to it, but yeah we're doing some fool around stuff and then more and then more. I'd never done stuff with guys really, not beyond little party game things, like spin the bottle. He knew that and at one point that night he put it inside me and to be honest I wasn't sure what to think.

I remember at the time wondering if I should stop him or something? I don't know it's kind of funny to think about now, but I was thinking maybe he shouldn't do this, maybe I need to tell him this is too much? It felt really weird and I guess I didn't know if it was in a good way or a bad way yet. But he was saying things like "I can't believe you're letting me do this" and "you're letting me ruin you" and it was so hot that I let him fuck me. Those things he was saying were making me so wet and I guess that's this kink.

He never says that stuff anymore I just remember that being the point where my mind just silenced all the "should I tell him not to?" thoughts and it just went blank while he fucked me. It wasn't crazy good sex, we were really drunk, but it was hot and it was very different from what I was used to.

So all and all this made my other friends jealous because both of us told them. At the time it was really odd! No one saw it coming! So they all wanted a turn lol and I had told them that I found it weirdly hot so of course they both wanted to prove something. Okay one of them, we'll call Tom, wouldn't say that but it's kind of true.

Anyway all three of them got their chance and it just became a thing that would happen pretty frequently. Maybe a few times a week? I'm a very horny person so being single has always been hard on me and on top of that I'm an attention whore. I wouldn't say I'm not a lesbian because I'm still not attracted to men but I am definitely a big enough attention whore that it doesn't matter lol I just like that they all need to get with me.

So over the years this arrangement has been a thing I guess, when I'm single they can just fuck me whenever because my libido is really high. They don't talk about me being a lesbian while we fuck but I notice every once in awhile I find it kind of hot that they might think about getting to fuck a lesbian yknow like they think it might change something? I think about how Zach said that stuff and it still makes me wet, I think I should bring it up to him maybe? But that might be weird.

One of the really juicy things that happened recently was that Tom fucked me really hard. Tom has always been a very sweet kind of guy and he definitely is that guy in bed, but he also hasn't been fucking me at all for the past... five months maybe because he has a serious girlfriend. But a few weeks ago he came home and we were chilling and he got very intense and held me down and fucked me really hard from behind. Like toe curling hard. It was so hot and I had already found this kink so I kept thinking about it as like him trying to "break" me.

He hasn't done anything with me since but I wish they would get in on this kink without me saying anything. I feel like I can't say it because it'd be embarrassing and weird, but it'd also kind of ruin it to ask for it? Or maybe it'd just turn my brain off again when they actually said something and it wouldn't matter?

What a pure, sweet example of lesbian sexuality: a girl who's been maximum-convenience, any-time-you-want pussy for three different men for years, but "wouldn't say that I'm not a lesbian because I'm still not attracted to men".

As if it matters! As if your little categorization criterion means anything when you spend your life taking cock whenever men decide you will!

The very first time a man fucked you, he said the right words to get your mind blank and your pussy wet - and now it's years later, and you've been fucked hundreds of times.

And the funny thing is, they don't even have to earn it by playing with the dykebreaking kink. That's your idea, that you use to get off, and you're hoping that they'll indulge you in it. Countless guys get off to the idea, but I don't know if it even really occurs to the men fucking you anymore: how do you see a girl as a lesbian when you and your buddies have been emptying your balls in her for years?

But if you're too shy to ask them to think of you that way, the solution is easy enough. Have you ever spread your legs for them on top of a lesbian flag? Worn a "This is what a lesbian looks like" shirt until they took it off?

Just remind them what you claim to be, as you keep being a good fucktoy for them. With any luck, they'll laugh at you for it, as they fuck your little "lesbian" brains out.

[666writingcafe]

New Voice Messages (Part Three)

Lucifer

"Hey. I know it's late and you're probably asleep, so you don't have to respond to this right away. I should be asleep, but I keep tossing and turning whenever I try, so I gave up on that hours ago. I'm currently sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the night sky. Well, and recording this message, but that's self-explanatory, I feel. *sighs* Don't mind my rambling. I'm both incredibly tired and slightly tipsy. I finally got around to trying the bottle of Demonus that Diavolo gave us as a housewarming gift, and it's pretty decent. I had a couple glasses of it before coming up here, thinking that it'd help put me to sleep. Obviously, it hasn't, but it was worth trying, I suppose. I at least feel like I can respond to your note without choking on my words or banging my head in frustration. *briefly pauses* Given the way you signed off on it, I'm going to assume that you trust me enough to not abuse your old name. That's also why I'm outside. Less likely to be overheard using it by my brothers. If that's okay with you. If it's not, feel free to tell me off for it the next time we meet. So, MC. *pauses again before lightly singing MC's name* Have I ever told you it's a pretty name? Saying it is comforting somehow. *clears his throat* Sorry. Like I said, I'm a bit drunk."

"Feeling more in control now. Might still ramble a bit, but hopefully not as much as before. *takes a deep breath* The first time I read your note, I ended up crying. Not because you said something wrong, but because it was...sweet? Is that the word I'm looking for? *briefly pauses as a gust of wind gets picked up on the mic* It'll have to do for now, I guess. Anyway...it's interesting how you and Diavolo said more or less the same thing, and yet I'm more inclined to listen to you than I am to him. Perhaps it's the difference in tone? I could definitely tell that he was getting frustrated with me towards the end of our phone call. I know there's a part of him that sees me as a really shiny toy, one that he's quite territorial over. If I were to leave his side, he'd throw a massive fit, I'd imagine, and he might start a war over it. Which is silly. I'm not worth fighting over. *pauses* And yet everyone seems to for some reason. It's like I cause people to lose their minds. I don't know if it's due to the amount of titles and prestige I've had or my physical appearance or something else entirely, but they seem to all go into hysteria after spending any significant amount of time with me. Except for you, MC. You don't care about Lucifer Morningstar, former Lightbringer, Avatar of Pride, yadda yadda yadda. You simply see me as me, if that makes sense. You want to make sure that I'm okay, and you don't expect anything in return. It's a way of repaying back the kindness bestowed upon you in your situation, I suppose. And it'd be cruel of me to ignore all of that and still plunge to my death. So I'm staying. *pauses* You're right. This does feel weird. You better make good on your promise, MC, or I may end up changing my mind again. *chuckles* Don't take that last part too seriously. I'm merely messing with you a bit."

"You know, I wonder what my brothers are thinking about this...offer being made to us. I already know Mammon and Beel would stay, and Belphie's going to do whatever Beel does, but I'm not sure about Levi and Asmo. I mean, you were there when Asmo was yelling at me about leaving the Celestial Realm. Do you think he's eagerly packing his bags as we speak, or--"

A Few Hours Later

"Sorry about the abrupt ending of my last message. Mammon caught me on the rooftop. We ended up talking for a while. *pauses* The two of us have an interesting relationship. Kinda similar to the one I have with Satan. Mammon's sort of my brother and sort of my son, except he didn't spring out of me like Satan did. He's the first angel I felt the need to protect. Everyone else was prepared to throw him away, even though he was merely a child. I couldn't sit back and let them treat him like that, especially not after I held him in my arms as he was crying. He was around the Chihuahua's age when that happened. *clears his throat* I apologize. I know you don't like me calling Luke a chihuahua. I really am trying not to. *pauses* So yeah. Satan's technically the third oldest, since he came into existence in my mind shortly after I took Mammon under my wing. Levi came into the picture when Mammon was a teenager, and the others when he was just becoming a fully-grown angel. *pauses again* It was actually Mammon that insisted that we take care of them, and he was so earnest about it that I couldn't say no. I mean, the fact that he was willing to do for others what I've done for him...I was quite proud of him. Still am, even though he insists on putting on a persona these days. I know deep down, he still cares about everyone. *pauses yet again* Is it weird that I feel comfortable sharing all of this with you, MC? It might be the alcohol still affecting me, but somehow I don't think it is. I...I think I've come to trust you. Completely. I haven't even gotten there with Diavolo yet, and I've known him a lot longer. *chuckles* You truly are special, little lamb. *silence* Shit. That wasn't supposed to be said out loud. I better go before I start calling you more silly nicknames. Good night, MC."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @interconnectedmatrix

[bugs1nmybrain]

Fruity Drinks: L x Reader - Drunk Sex (Minors Don't Interact)

Writer's Notes: Can you tell that I'm running out of ideas? First Shigaraki's stoned smut and now L's drunk smut. I don't encourage substance use!! It's just funny to write about with my favorite characters.

Warnings: VERY ooc L, silly L, fem reader, alcohol use, drunk sex (L and reader are both drunk), the reader is described as a young adult, oral sex (m and f receiving), 69, no penetrative sex, comedy smut sorta, lame and cheesy but kind of fluff ending

How L ended up agreeing to this little arrangement was beyond him. It wasn't that he had never consumed alcohol before. There were a few times when he'd buy a sweet drink from a nice restaurant when he went out. Drinking enough to get drunk, though? L couldn't recall ever doing that. He hated the idea of his judgement and self-control being impaired.

However, he had recently solved a very internationally significant case. You insisted that he and you should celebrate. L didn't really understand the point, he solved cases left and right all the time. He had so many under his belt that it didn't necessarily add to his notoriety anymore. In actuality, though, you simply wanted a night where you and L felt like two typical young adults, wanting to have some fun and loosen up. His solving his latest case was merely an excuse, a poor one in L's opinion.

So you and him sat in one of his more cozy rooms at his house. The room was big and decorated nicely. You questioned if L had chosen the interior design or if it was how the room was before he purchased the house. Or maybe a product of Watari's doing? Themes of white and gold rained prominent throughout the room, which added to the novelty. In front of you and L were many drinks, accompanied by juices and soda that you thought would make the drinks more tolerable. L expressed to you that he could hardly bear the taste of alcohol, so you made sure to accommodate him with some easier options.

"So, it must feel nice to have gotten that case out of the way," you comment.

A part of L was agitated by that question, perceiving it as petty small talk. "Yes, it is. Admittedly, every time I solve a case, I feel disappointed knowing there's no more to uncover from said case; that the war has been won. The satisfaction from my victory is more to compensate for it, though. I'll just have to go searching for another, now."

"Mhm. Did you have any ideas on what drinks you were interested in?" you asked.

"Hard to say. Something sweet, for sure."

"No need to over-explain yourself. I'm sure it'll be perfectly fine."

You chuckle at his very obvious statement, "I could've guessed that. I heard that vodka cranberries were sweet, so I chose stuff for that, if it's alright. I will warn you that I am not someone who mixes drinks often. I kind of don't even know what I am doing, but I tried coming prepared."

So you continued to pour L a drink, mixing vodka and cranberry juice like an amateur bartender. You also made yourself one, hoping that the matching drinks would provide some nice bonding between the two of you. When you were done, you handed your lover his drink and he held the glass with his pointer and thumb, eyeballing it for a moment.

"This would have been nice with some cherries," he comments.

"I'll remember that for next time," you chuckle, taking a sip from your drink.

L began drinking his beverage as well, furrowing his brows at the sting of the alcohol in his throat. You eyeball him, finding his face of discomfort adorable.

"Are you alright?" you ask.

"Yes, love. It's not as bad as I thought. I think the cranberry juice dilutes the taste of the alcohol, but there's still a burning sensation."

"Makes sense."

"Why exactly are we doing this again?"

"To have fun. Loosen up a little."

"Ah, I see. You know that I'm not one to do this sort of thing. Especially not anything that would impair my reasoning abilities."

"I know. Is it okay? We can stop if you'd like."

"I didn't mean that, exactly. Honestly, I'm a little curious to what you are like while intoxicated. Is that strange of me to say?" he questions, giving you an engaged expression.

"That's true, though. Perhaps I should indulge your curiosity. You deserve the privilege for being such an outstanding girlfriend, " he eyes you with a neutral expression.

You blush and laugh a bit, "No. I don't mind that."

Honestly, L being nosy was something that was a surprising turn on often.

"I actually wanted to see how you'd be, honestly. I've never seen you drunk or high or anything like that and I was curious on how your behavior would shift."

"You're the perfect psychologist."

You chuckle abruptly in response.

You laugh at his compliments, feeling a sense of comfort in knowing his admiration for you. L continues to drink his vodka cran, watching you as you drink yours as well.

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

About an hour rolls by and you and L are absolutely hammered. This was a surprise for sure. L had never submitted to this kind of lack of cognitive control, and you had surely never seen this side of him.

The two of you hadn't simply sat there and drank. You had turned on some crime documentary and sat side by side, with your form leaning onto his shoulder. L seemed to really be enjoying his drinks, as he downed one after the other. It was actually very concerning. In truth, he just really liked the taste of them and you two hadn't gotten snacks.

It seemed that L could hold his liquor quite well, and he did when he was simply watching TV. Until now. You sat as the documentary began to give the viewers options as to who they thought the suspect was in the series of murders. L went from dead quiet to deeply and prominently vocal, so much so that it startled you.

"It's him. How..? A seven year old could guess who the murderer is...that one-uh-guy."

Your eyes shot wide open and you tried your hardest to hold in a laugh.

"I'm shutting this off," L announces, clumsily reaching for the remote. He grips it sluggishly and flicks the tv off, slouching back onto the couch. He still sat in his typical position but with his head titled to the side, looking as though he was about to fall over.

You hadn't exactly processed your own intoxication up to this point. It was terribly difficult not to hold back your laughter, and ultimately, you failed. You let out the most uncensored laugh, and L shot his face your way with his finger pressed to his lip.

"What's funny?"

"You. You're cute."

"Oooooh. Yes, you tell me that very often."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh no need..my love. You're, quite "cute" yourself. Did you know that?"

Your flustered face beams a glow, both from the alcohol and your embarrassment. You continue to chuckle for way too many seconds. You sat rigidly in response, thighs pressed together and hands on top of them.

"You..."L begins. You could tell that him never being drunk before contributed to his very apparent intoxication.

"You're so pretty. Your hair,,, and your eyes...you're..how did I manage to end up with such a beautiful lady?? You're so gorgeous, Y/N."

He was plastered. This was hilarious. You thought he was lying but when you looked at him and saw his cheeks flushed and eyes heavy, along with his finger teasing his lips, you could tell he was genuine. He was cute, so much so that you couldn't control more flustered laughter escaping your lips.

"Am I funny?" L asked. You couldn't tell if he was insulted or not. You hoped that it wasn't the case, as your laughter was far from out of a malicious nature.

"Yeah. I think you're the funniest person I know. You make me laugh without even meaning to, like all the time."

"Hmm...you like me that much? Do I have really have that affect on you?"

Even though you were very drunk, you could hear the tone of his voice become rather flirtatious, though uncoordinated.

"I've noticed, Y/N. You're rather addicted to my attention. And when you look at me, your face lights up. Your body tenses. Your speech becomes stammered. I'm not referring to the alcohol, nuh uh. You love me."

"Yes, of course, I love you. Why wouldn't I?"

You felt hurt a little, so you held your head down. It made you upset, because yes, he was a rather sneaky and occasionally manipulative partner. He wasn't harsh or anything, or trying to corrupt you, at least you thought. But he would try and pry out information and reactions from you, and get you to say things that would help him understand your tricks and own manipulation tactics.

"Because I am a treacherous, inhumane liar. Who's to say..I'm not lying right now? About how pretty you are, hm?"

L is always a thousand steps ahead of you, easily picking up on your suspicions of the genuineness in his compliments.

"Lovee...don't frown. I didn't meaan that. I actually, have proof. That you're pretty."

"Huh?"

"Yes. Do you want to see the evidence?????"

The drunkenness of yourself and his slurred speech confused you and so you cocked an eyebrow and let out another, "Huh?"

"Come here..Sit right here, next to me."

So you complied. You scooched directly next to L. He reaches to cup your shoulder and presses you close to him. He takes your hand carefully and sets it down over his crotch. Your heart jumps at the touch of his stabbing bulge, straining against his jeans.

"You see, do you see my point?"

You could feel his point, for sure. An unexpected moan escapes your lips, and you can feel yourself become wet instantly from the knowledge of his attraction to you. It didn't help that you loved his cock, either. You feel incredibly embarrassed at the noise you made uncontrollably, and bury your face into your hands.

"No, don't do that, my love." He takes your hand and sets it on his bulge again. "I want you. Would you be willing to indulge me? In your beauty?"

"Mmmmm...yea. Yea, I'd..like that a lot," Your verbal communication has gone out the window and you are unable to manage your composure at all. "Y-yes..yes please..."

"You're so cute," without much warning, L crawls on top of you, fumbling as he does so. He hovers over you and looks you in the eyes for a moment as his hair falls downward. With lustful, lidded eyes he makes his way to kiss the nape of your neck. Even intoxicated, he manages to maintain his romantic and calculated movements, even if they are a little sloppy.

"Mmm!"

"That's it..."

L's desperate need for stimulation encourages him to grind his clothed cock on your thigh for relief. He groans as he kisses your neck, lightly nipping at it. Your gasps cause him to twitch in his pants and he yearns out in painful arousal.

"Mmm, you're soooo pretty. Can I see your breasts? They're so nice. I want to see them."

It was a little humorous when L would talk about your body. He hardly used slang terms, such as tits. His use of clinical language was cute, though awkward. You nod with an eager, "mhm."

It took him a bit to remove your shirt and unhook your bra. Surprising for him, L is usually so good at coordinated actions. Once you were exposed for him, he merely stared at you for many seconds, cock pulsing at the sight of you.

"Oh my goodness," he comments, making you embarrassed.

You can feel your face flush and grow hotter and hotter, as well as your cunt. You couldn't help it when you began squirming your thighs together in arousal, and L let out a sigh at the impact of your movements against his erection. His penis was painfully sensitive, perhaps caused by blood flow from the alcohol.

You gripped his pants, pulling the hem to release his member so you could touch him. You tuck your hand under his waistband and wrap your fingers gently around him. He sighed heavily as you stroked him clumsily. His hips rocked himself into your hand, basking in how good it felt.

"Are you,, do you feel good?" you ask with a slurred tone.

"You have no idea."

He continues nipping at your neck. His hands were relentless, searching for any part of your body to squish or tease.

"Are you turned on?" L asks with a tone of voice that makes him almost sound guilty. He knew full well he was losing control of his gravitation toward you and perhaps wasn't being the most romantic or courteous.

"How about you look for evidence?"

"Hmm.."

L did just that, hand slipped into your pants to feel your pussy. When he discovered you had a hot, wet secretion that drenched you, he slowly plunged two fingers inside out you. You whimper in tension, but once he began rubbing your special spot, your body relaxed to his touch.

His fingers pulled out, making sure to rub your clitoris a bit. The lubricant from your pussy made his motions much more fluid. Fuck, even while he was hammered he was so precise. Sloppier than usual, but still knew exactly what they were doing.

"I...i want to taste you so badly right now," he yearns as he stops fingering you. He begins moving his way down to your crotch but you grip his hair before he can make it.

"I want to..to make you feel good, too. Let me do it to you."

"What? No. I want to bury my face in you, like right now. I don't have time for your mouth."

wow.

"I think people do like, 69? Right?"

"I'm not extremely educated in that department. But...that could be nice.."

You and L exchange a few more lusty kisses until he pushes you to lie on top of him. "You should turn the other way, right?"

Without a response you turned your body so that your ass was facing him. Your cunt hovered above him, to which he glanced at for a few moments. He cupped his hands around your ass and pulled you down so that your heat was pressed against his mouth.

You yelp quietly at the contact. You hadn't ever tried 69 and the position was rather vulnerable. However, the way L was devouring your cunt made it clear he wasn't bothered in the slightest.

He lied down with his legs crunched so that his knees were bent. You took his cock in your hand, giving it a few tender strokes and finally stuffing it in your mouth. L moaned against your pussy, enhancing the stimulation. He sucked on your clit vigorously while holding you in place.

L was interesting in that he adored eating you out. You felt bad as if you were a burden for wanting that kind of pleasure. He never objected, though. He had a pretty significant oral fixation, and running his tongue along your cunt was strangely soothing. Plus, the added bonus of the pride he felt when he made you cum was incredibly rewarding.

Blowing him was kind of difficult right now. Your mouth had a hard time coordinating, but you managed to bob your head along him. He must've been enjoying it by the muffles he made against your cunt. L's cock was a bit long, which made taking his whole length tricky. His hips jolted forward on impulse, gagging you a little.

"Shit! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"It's..okay," you said in between kisses along his cock. L wanted to chuckle at how you were treating his length, but he was far too concentrated on making you cum. You were taking a little longer than usual, but it was alright. L simply thrust his fingers inside of you for a bit and rubbed your G-spot.

He could feel himself building slowly, and he wondered if he could make the two of you orgasm at the same time.

"Mmfm...you taste incredible," he comments. "You're so pretty down here, too."

L's praise always made your heart jolt a little. Sometimes you questioned his sincerity, but he seemed to want you to feel good about yourself for whatever reason. It still made you feel validated nonetheless.

You hummed on his dick in a pleasant response. L kept running his tongue along your clit in consistent motions, and you can start feeling your cunt quiver. L knows, recognizing the way your pussy twitched in his mouth. A smirk grazes his face as your cunt spasms in convulsions and you have to pop your head up for air as you mewl uncontrollably. L allows himself to let go as well as his cum spurts out onto your face while you gave him a mess as well.

You and L both were panting, absolutely overwhelmed by your sensations. An instant exhaustion washed over and you collapsed on top of him.

"Come here," L requests. You pull yourself to face him and L kisses you deeply, not caring about the swapping of genital fluids. "Tonight has been very pleasant, wouldn't you agree?"

"Hehe...I suppose. That felt very, very good."

"I thought so, perhaps we should do that more often."

"What about the drinking, should we do that more often?

"Honestly, I'm not the biggest fan. I feel very out of control of my inhibitions," he admits. Tonight was surely fun, though.

"That makes sense."

"I liked tonight though. And I'm happy I got to spend time with you."

"Me too," you fall on L's chest, and if he wasn't so drunk, he'd probably leave once you fell asleep. But he let himself drift along with you this time, enjoying your warmth. You were already sleeping, but he planted a kiss on your temple and allowed himself comfort in your love for him.

[findafight]

On the one-sided harringrove post- I feel it becomes infinitely funnier with bi steve. He likes men, just not Billy. Never Billy.

Oh yeah. When Billy fiiiirst comes to school with his music blaring Steve is head over heels for Nancy, so he might register that the guy with the Camaro and loud music has a good ass, but then billy opens his mouth and Steve is like "oh, no ass can make up for that personality." And continues with his life.

Just. Okay I like to project just a liiiiittle on Steve with him just. Not realizing his attraction to men isn't a straight thing. Like. Of course all straight people feel that way, you just kinda ignore it or don't do anything about it. So Steve is half way between being comfortable in his sexuality and being closeted to himself because buddy used Hawkeye Pierce as the blueprint of straightness.

So Billy is out here, wallowing in self hatred and internalized homophobia, hating Steve and wanting Steve and hating that he wants Steve and wishing Steve would pay attention to him enough for a hate fuck he can cry about later, and it's all very angsty. All the while Steve is just actually completely fine with thinking a dude is hot he's just got standards that include "not racist" "doesn't try to beat up kids" "hasn't made me blackout from head trauma"

Wait. Oh no. I feel an au coming on. Shit. Au where post S2 Robin hears piano coming from the band room after hours and is her curious self going "I must see who is this mysterious genius" and it's Steve. They get to talking and hanging out and all of a sudden Robin thinks they are actually good friends. Best friends. Somehow.

Cue them going to a band party together. Someone spikes their drinks with waayyyy more than they were expecting so they are blasted. Robin has to go pee but does not want to go alone so she drags Steve into the bathroom with her and makes him face away. He's like haha Woah you really had to pee. And she goes shut upppp and washes her hands but sits across from him. Steve smiles at her and gives her his speech about how amazing she is and how glad he is to be her friend (it is like March '85 so he is still not ready to get back out into dating yet). Robin tells him about Tammy. They sing. Someone slams the door open and kicks them out of the bathroom because there's a fuckin line.

They lay on the grass outside and look at the sky. Steve like. Caaaaasually mentions once having thought he was gonna marry Tommy when he was six and then realizing you just didn't do anything about those feelings and Robin's gotta shoot up going WHAT!! WHAAAT? Because it sounded like Steve coming out to her? Right after?? She came out to him??

And Steve is like yeah. Like you don't really have to? Easier to ignore it and flirt with girls who I like or think are hot. And poor Robin's brain is melting she's like please Steve I'm really drunk are you telling me you sometimes want to kiss boys? And he's like yes, obviously, everyone does. Just like everyone also wants to sometimes kiss girls. Except lesbians I guess who only want to kiss girls? And gay guys only want to kiss guy? Yeah that makes sense and straight people don't care but go for the opposite ya know?

Robin is like NO!! And calms down some and says "okay I'm telling you this because you are my friend and you just told me almost the same thing. Steve. I like girls and only like girls. That not a straight thing"

"yeah. You've said."

"but I am ninety nine percent positive that just because you like girls doesn't mean you're straight because you also like boys."

"what"

"yeah dude, I do not think this is a heterosexual experience you're describing. I'm not an expert but. Yeah.

"oh. Huh."

"yep."

"I definitely thought it was."

"your brain is so weird I'm still kind of obsessed with you."

"haha. Honestly I'm kind of obsessed with you. This is wild."

"well. At least I know you're stuck with me."

"ohhh nooooo whatever will I do with my best friend always around..."

ANYWAYS THE ACTUAL POINT OF THIS is not in fact the stobin. It's actually that

Sometime probably in may, when Steve is ready to be on the dating scene again, he gets with Eddie. Robin is happy for him but also so mad because he went from "probably shouldn't act gay even tho everyone feels a little gay sometimes" to "hey Robin what would you say if I said I got a boyfriend?" In less than two months. How does he have straight AND gay game. That's not fair.

Steddie getting together is a non event. Eddie is still like ewww sports and yet somehow he made out with Steve Harrington and the next day Steve asked if he wanted to get milkshakes and throw rocks into the quarry to see the splashes. Eddie must restrain himself from thinking it's a date because he knows it's not but it'd also be the perfect date (Eddie is a simple man)

At the end of the night steve kissed his cheek and says "I had a really great time..."

Eddie just blurted "hey do you want to be my boyfriend?"

To which Steve perks up like "yes! I'd like that!"

And Eddie didn't actually think he'd get that far so he was like "neat!! See you tomorrow!" before slamming the door in Steve's face.

So they're dating and Eddie disparages sports but Steve is like haha aw you don't like watching me play? Which is sooo mean to Eddie because obviously?? He likes?? Watching his boyfriend??? Run around in tiny shorts and sometimes shirtless?? He has to reevaluate some things he supposes.

All while this is happening Billy is still on his Greatest Homoerotic Rivals shtick with Steve. Eddie notices and is like to dude...what is with Billy? And Steve just sighs. Says Billy is weird and obsessed with him and glares all the time. It's a whole thing. Billy is pissed because what is Steve, his epic rival, doing hanging around some random band geek, his sister's bitchass friends, and maybe the local dealer.

Alright. Grad happens. Yay Steve! Poor Eddie. They go to some party , hang out with people, sell some drugs, etc. Billy is unfortunately also at this party, and is like. Lazer eyes boring into Steve's back. Very annoying. At some point, he sees Steve slip away and is like this is my chance so he follows him.

Howmever he comes across Steve, his epic and totally heterosexual rival, making out with Eddie the freak Munson.

And listen this is a scary thing to be caught inna town like Hawkins, but that's not the point of this post.

So Billy goes "what the hell?"

They turn around. Billy is still spluttering.

"what are you-why would you-- with him?!" He says.

Steve raises his eyebrows, alllll cocky confidence. He smirks a bit. Drawls. "Well, yeah. I like cock, billy. Just not yours."

Because the point of this post is that Steve is a bitch.

Thank you.

[sirianasims]

Chapter 43.8

“Marten! You’re here!”

Marten barely manages to drop his bag on the floor before I wrap him in a tight hug. He surprises me by not only hugging me back with the same enthusiasm, but lifting me and swinging me around.

“Hey Jules! What a lovely welcome, I’m sorry I’m so sweaty.”

“It’s fine, I can’t possibly get any worse than I already am. This heatwave is crazy.”

He laughs and gives me another squeeze as he sets me down, our cheeks briefly sticking together.

“Yeah, it’s bad, the train was like a sauna. I might ask to borrow your shower later if that’s okay, I don’t want to sweat all over your sofa. That would be a very poor way to thank you.”

“Sure, make yourself at home. I found a bunch of blankets and stuff, but we can figure out sleeping arrangements when you get back tonight.”

“You’re still sure you don’t want to come to GeekCon with me, right? I feel a little bad just leaving you here and using your place like a hotel.”

He sends me a crooked smile as we stand in the middle of the living room. It’s odd to be occupying the same physical space after only speaking online for an entire year. I know him so well, but now that he’s here, he somehow feels both strange and familiar at the same time.

“No, it’s fine. I really don’t want to go. We can hang out tonight, play some games, maybe even have brunch tomorrow before you go back?”

“It’s because Paul is going to be there, isn’t it?”

I bite my lip.

“No, not just because of Paul, I didn’t finish my costume either… but I also don’t want to see him, you know? I’m still kind of mad at him.”

“No, I get it, I didn’t go to my last four lectures in Quantum Computing Theory because my ex was in that class too and it ended pretty badly. But if you’re not going, I have a proposal for you. How about I skip GeekCon as well, and we go somewhere together?”

“What? But GeekCon is the whole reason you’re here!”

“I go every year, it’s fine. Come on, Jules, what kind of friend would I be if I just left you here to melt all by yourself? We could go somewhere fun, isn’t there an aquarium over in San Sequoia? We can be there in half an hour. It has to be cooler than here, too.”

An aquarium. Just the word itself feels refreshing, conjuring up images of deep, cool water. It’s been so hot lately that I’ve almost considered jumping into the harbour, but I’ve seen enough drunk guys peeing in it when I walk home at night that I never would.

“That sounds great, actually, but are you sure?”

“Hmm, you’re right, let me really weigh my options here. On one hand, I could go to GeekCon, where I’ve been seven years in a row, to hang out with other sweaty geeks in a giant glass cube while my dear friend that I am callously exploiting for room and board is suffering in the heat all by herself – or I could go to a nice, air-conditioned aquarium and catch up with someone I haven’t seen for a year. It’s a tough decision, I’ll give you that.”

“Fine, you’ve made your point, Marten, let’s just go!” I can’t stop giggling and he carries on.

“No no, let me think just a little bit longer. I could also go and follow Paul around and glare angrily at him on your behalf, I guess that’s a point in GeekCon’s favour.”

The mental image is absurd. Paul knows perfectly well who Marten is, and I realise that I don’t want them to meet again, preferably ever. What if they talked? Would Marten actually confront Paul about hurting me? Or would Paul ask him how I was doing? I’m still angry with Paul for how abruptly he ended things, something about it feels unresolved and will probably never quite make sense to me, but I’m nowhere near as furious with him as Miranda, Samara and Marten seem to be on my behalf. I want to hate him, it would be easier, but I simply can’t.

“Please don’t do that, it would just make it seem like I still care about him. I guess that means I’ll have to graciously allow you to hang out with me instead, then.”

“Thank you, you’re too kind.” Marten rolls his eyes. “Honestly, Jules, I do hope you’ll have slightly higher standards for your next boyfriend. Let’s go before it gets any hotter.”

The sun is still rising in the sky as we emerge from the station, promising that the day will indeed only get hotter. The blue metal siding on the San Sequoia Aquarium glitters deep blue like the heart of a glacier, promising relief.

“How did you even know about this place? I’ve lived in San Myshuno for over a year and I had no idea there was an aquarium this close.”

Marten shrugs.

“I think I heard about it at some point, figured it’d be fun to go if I was ever here for something other than GeekCon. I just never had a reason until now.”

Coming in from the bright sun almost blinds me at first, before my eyes slowly adjust to the dim light. Marten pays for our tickets using cash. I can’t remember the last time I even carried cash, but I know that Marten’s parents keep an eye on his bank account. They seem to believe that going to GeekCon and playing video games is a waste of his time, and he doesn’t want them to ask too many questions. I think they worry too much, Marten is perfectly able to ace all his classes while playing games, he’s legitimately some sort of genius.

The aquarium is even chillier than I hoped for, and now I almost wish I was wearing something with longer sleeves, but the bright colours and beautiful fish soon distract me from the goosebumps on my arms. A lot of kids are running around, their excited voices echoing between the tanks.

I take a few pictures for my socials, I need to get back in the habit if I want to build my following back up, even though I don’t know exactly what direction to go in yet. But some more consistent activity can’t hurt either way.

Marten gently nudges me with an elbow. “Typical influencer behaviour, can’t just look at the fish without documenting everything.”

“Hey nerd brain, it’s technically my job. Shut up and help me instead! And please try to look like you’ve taken a selfie before.”

“I haven’t, actually, I hear cameras steal your soul. Begone, witch!”

I elbow him in the ribs and he obediently positions himself behind me, his hands barely touching my shoulders. I look at the picture I’ve taken.

“Good job on the hover hands, am I still that sweaty? I’ve already hugged you, it’s too late to pretend we’re not both super gross.”

“Hover hands? I’ll give you hover hands!” He tickles me and I squirm, almost dropping the phone. “This is the thanks I get for not manhandling you like some sort of creep? So ungrateful, no more selfies for you, young lady!”

He starts walking away, but I quickly catch up and leap onto his back, taking a few more pictures while he laughs and holds on to my knees so I don’t fall off.

Marten shakes his head, still chuckling, as I awkwardly stuff the large phone into a pocket while hanging on for dear life with the other hand.

“You’re impossible, Jules.”

“I think you mean improbable. I’m clearly possible, I’m literally right behind you.”

“Smartass.”

He carries me all the way along the giant tropical tank, but I jump down when we get to a darker area towards the back. There are two smaller tanks here, one decorated to look like an ancient temple, the other containing a statue of a turtle. The wall is covered with colourful and intricate wood carvings.

I head towards a display that features a stunning necklace carved out of some kind of green stone. “This is beautiful. I love Sulani so much.”

“Have you ever been there?”

“A few times. We used to go on holiday to the Valley every other year, but now I only have my grandparents in Brindleton Bay left, so we either go there or travel to Sulani or Mt. Komorebi. My mom loves snowboarding, but my dad gets super anxious, especially after one of my brothers chipped a tooth. My parents go to Sulani by themselves every year though, it’s like an anniversary thing.”

“What, they just go on vacation without you and your siblings?”

“Yeah, it’s like a romantic retreat. I told you they got divorced once, right? Before I was born? So now they do a lot of things to keep their marriage healthy.”

“I mean, if it works, it works. My parents wouldn’t dream of letting me stay home when they travel. And we always go places they think will be, I don’t know, educational? We’ve been to some really interesting places, like Tomarang and Selvadorada, but we always end up spending most of the time in museums or on guided tours to heritage sites and such. Sometimes it would be nice to just hang out and have fun. Oh, and then we also go to Windenburg to see my mom’s side of the family once or twice a year.”

“One of my sisters lives in Windenburg now. I really want to go visit her when I can afford it.”

“Let me know if you ever go, I’ll teach you a few useful phrases.”

“Admit it, you’re just going to teach me rude stuff.”

“Honestly, yeah, probably. My mother would be so disappointed in me.”

The final part of the aquarium has various insects and butterflies, as well as some frogs and turtles. Marten stops in front of a terrarium and I eye it warily, but I can’t really see any bugs in it, just a few large twigs.

At first I’m not even sure what I’m looking for, but then one of the twigs moves, and I squeal and hide behind Marten. He shakes his head at me.

“Honestly, Jules, can’t take you anywhere. You’re scaring the poor stick insects!”

“Hey, bugs are already not my favourite thing, and this one pulled a jump scare! Why do they have insects here anyway, it’s an aquarium?”

“I guess they’re… branching out? Sorry, that was extremely terrible even for me.”

I shake my head, giggling.

“I hope robotics works out for you, because a comedy career certainly won’t.”

“Oof, she’s harsh but fair. I’m feeling pretty done in here, want to get some lunch before we leave?”

“Let me guess, you’re going to insist on paying for that too?”

“Obviously. You know me so well.”

We get coffee and bagels and sit on the picnic tables outside the small café. Next to us, a couple tries to console their toddler who is seemingly distraught that she can’t take any of the pretty fish home. I feel her pain.

“For the second year in a row, thanks for buying me coffee during GeekCon.”

Marten grins. “I was raised like that. I hope it’s okay? I don’t mean to impose, it’s just that I know you need to be a bit careful with your money while you figure out what to do next.”

“It’s fine, but you have to let me pay next time, or whenever I get things back up and running. Samara suggested just doing some outfits and skin care, but I’m not sure.”

“Would you ever consider going to university? I mean, assuming that finances weren’t a problem? I really think you’d enjoy it there, and it’s not like you have to go all out and get a PhD like me, I don’t even know what a PhD in design looks like. But you’d learn so much.”

“It’s not about the cost,” I reply, shaking my head. “I just don’t feel like the studying type, I think I’d be bored out of my mind. I like the freedom to do my own thing.”

“Of course, freedom is important. But imagine having all the knowledge from a degree too, not to mention the credentials. You could really take your stuff to the next level, and you’d get to know other people in the business, build a network.”

“I guess. But the idea of sitting in a classroom and doing assignments… it just doesn’t excite me.”

“Life can’t be exciting all the time, Jules, sometimes you have to invest in your future.”

I smile weakly. I hate feeling like I’m disappointing him. “I know you’re trying to help, and I appreciate it. I’ll think about it, but no promises, okay?”

“That’s all I’m asking,” he says. “Just think about it.”

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