#i have somehow never gotten sick of their music

[junestay]

i have never gotten sick of stray kids. what drugs do they put in their music

[evansbby]

𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐☆.｡.:*

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈 - 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: extreme voyeurism, daddy!kink, drugs (ecstasy), smutt, dd/lg vibes, dubcon, choking, dark Ari, liar Ari, cheater Ari, mean Ari, size difference, innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ only, minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Finally sick of Ari's lies, you're determined not to fall victim to his charms again.

𝐀/𝐍: This is part 2 of my fic, Wicked Games. Oh, I'm nervous about posting this! Please forgive any mistakes! Major warning for drug use and dubcon smut! Also, we finally find out who the second love interest it! Word count: 14.7k.

Coming to this party was a huge mistake, and you realise that the moment you enter the frat house. The music’s so loud, you can barely hear yourself think. You definitely can’t hear your friend Wanda, who’s excitedly mouthing stuff at you as she hands you a shot. You quickly down it with her before taking in your surroundings: the whole room is dark and packed, with red and black strobe lights thumping along with the music. Bodies writhing at every turn, people laughing, screaming, kissing and more.

And then you see him. Amongst the sea of what feels like a bazillion people, Ari stands heads above them all. The 6’6’’ captain of the basketball team, so handsome in a white shirt that clings snugly to his muscular biceps. Even with a snapback resting backwards on his head, you can still see tufts of his long brown hair curling at the base of his neck. God, did he have to be so goddamn hot?

Of course, he’s staring straight back at you, and you know you should look away. But you stand there, gormless and entranced like a schoolgirl. Watching him take in your body, letting his eyes trail leisurely down your form and drink everything in. He’s a fair distance away from you and half obstructed by dancing bodies, but you somehow still see his pink tongue peak out and run over his lips hungrily as he gazes at you.

Your dress is fire-engine red, daringly short and so form fitting that it barely covers your butt. The material is stretchy, hugging your body as the neckline dips lower than what you’re normally used to. You know Ari recognises the dress by the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. His eyes are locked in place, taking over your accentuated curves and pushed up cleavage.

He’d seen it in your closet a few weeks ago, and you remember how he’d picked it up and whistled. “What a slutty dress, baby.” He’d said, “Why don’t you put it on for daddy?” And of course, you had. You did anything he asked you to, and you’d never forget how dark his eyes had gotten, and how sombre he’d looked as he’d beckoned you over to his lap, his hands running up and down your body covered in the thin red fabric. “I don’t want you wearing this dress in public, okay baby? Slutty dresses like this are for my eyes only. Promise me you’ll never wear this for anyone else.”

And promise you had, but yet here you were. And you can practically see the smoke billowing out of Ari’s ears, and you can see his jaw clenching as he’s unable to rip his eyes off of you. And you feel almost bad for disobeying him, until you see a pink manicured hand grab Ari’s face and pull him down for a kiss. Sharon. He was here with her. But of course, he was here with her! She was his girlfriend, after all. And you were the gullible fool who he’d strung along the whole time he was with her.

It had only taken you a few days after your last hook-up with Ari in the locker-room to realise that he had not broken up with Sharon like he’d told you he had. You’d seen them together on the campus courtyard, hand-in-hand, Sharon looking happier than ever. She definitely didn’t look like someone whose uncle had just died. Ari had seen you too, and all he could muster up was a sheepish look before his girlfriend had dragged him away.

That had been last week, and since then, he’d been texting you nonstop.

Ari: Baby, it’s not what it looks like. Me and Sharon are just friends now!

Ari: Okay, fine. We got back together. But, baby, it’s only temporary ;) You know you’re my number one girl.

Ari: Send daddy a pic, baby girl ;)

Ari: Okay, I get that you’re mad but you know I don’t like it when you ignore my messages.

Ari: I miss you, baby. Let’s FaceTime soon, okay? Wear something sexy ;)

Ari: Fuck you. I’ve got plenty of other options.

You prided yourself on not answering even one of his texts, despite the fact that you could feel your resolve weakening all week. But you were determined to never speak to him again, and definitely never be his play-thing or side-chick again. And now here you were, at a frat party that you’d let your friend Wanda drag you to. Which you definitely didn’t come just so you could show Ari exactly what he was missing out on. Definitely not…

Tearing your gaze away from the beefy basketball captain, you pour yourself and Wanda another shot each, cringing as the colourless liquid sloshes down your throat. But the burn is a welcome change from the heartache you feel, knowing you’re in the same room as Ari and her. You dare to peak back at them one more time and hate yourself for doing it because now they’re dancing together, although you can see Ari still looking straight at you while his girlfriend’s back is turned.

“C’mon, let’s dance.” You drag Wanda to the dance floor determinedly.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Little Miss Side Chick.” You hear a deep voice in your ear as two heavy hands land on your hips. Wanda has already busied herself with dancing with a guy you vaguely remember from freshman orientation, so you turn around and come face to face with another basketball player. Tall and rugged, hair buzzed off and tattoos smattered all over his chest and arms. Curtis.

“What do you want?” You sneer, because Curtis is Ari’s best friend. And anyone associated with Ari is an enemy to you.

“Whoa, retract your claws, kitten. I’m not looking for a fight.” Curtis smirks, his hands firmly planted on your hips, swaying you along with him to the upbeat music. His body is practically glued to yours, and you can’t help but inhale his manly scent. It’s some type of aftershave that you don’t recognise, but boy does it smell good.

“Well, I don’t care what you’re looking for!” You raise your chin up at him defiantly, despite the fact that he’s more than a head taller than you. “And you can report that back to Ari, okay? And then you and him can both go to hell–Whoops!” You stumble forward in your high heels and cling to the beefy buzzcut-haired man in front of you to regain your balance. Curtis’ hand travels up to the small of your back as he pulls you closer, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Careful, kitty kat.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“But you let Ari call you whatever he wants.” His lips brush against your ear as he whispers, and you can’t help but cling to him. You feel like a small fish in this gigantic pond of a party, and Curtis feels solid as you teeter in your heels. You see the glint in his eye as he flashes you a smile. “I’ve heard you getting fucked, you know.”

You pout, “That’s really pervy, Curtis.”

“Yeah? I feel like you and Levinson both love an audience. You want a drink, kitten?”

 “No!”

“C’mon, you look like you need a drink. I mean, just look at you. Standing in the middle of the dancefloor looking all cute and pouty like a little baby.”

“ ‘m not a baby!”

As if on cue, you pout again. But you let Curtis drag you back to the drinks table, watching in awe as he mixes different things together in a crystal glass he seems to have conjured out of nowhere. Something compels you to look over your shoulder, and you spy Ari from across the room. Sharon’s arms are around his neck but his eyes are still boring holes into you. He’s got a can of beer that he’s currently crushing in his fist, and even in the darkness, you can see his face going red as his lips pull into a sneer.

Oh, he was jealous!

You giggle and give him a wave before pointedly turning back to Curtis and accepting whatever drink he’s just mixed for you.

“A baby drink for a baby like you.” Curtis pulls your cheek condescendingly and you scowl before eyeing the concoction in the glass. It’s a pretty pale pink colour and smells kind of fruity. You look up questioningly at Curtis, who crosses his arms over his chest as he grins like a Cheshire cat. “Go ahead, kitten, it won’t bite. I told you, it’s a baby drink – you wouldn’t even know there’s alcohol in it. Tastes like strawberries and cream.”

“Well… that does sound yummy.” You dip your pinkie finger in the drink and swirl it around, pretending to consider it. Your eyes dart sideways in Ari’s direction once more. And he’s still staring at you, despite the fact that his girlfriend’s all up against him, whispering something in his ear. God, that makes you mad, and you down the drink without a second thought. It goes down your throat easy, with a pleasantly fruity aftertaste. You look up at Curtis and beam.

“You were right! Tasted much better than shots! Could I have another, maybe?” You bat your lashes at him and he smirks. But he makes you another one, and you down it quickly, trying to flush away any thoughts of Ari and Sharon out of your mind. Screw both of them!

“Easy there, kitty kat. It’s a drink, you don’t have to down it like a shot.” Curtis grins, and it’s only when you feel his arm around your waist that you realise you’ve fallen into him again. Whatever he’d put in your drinks seems to already be hitting you, but you don’t care, don’t care, don’t care! And Curtis’ thumb rubbing circles on your hip feel kind of nice, and so you let him hold you as you sway, blinking rapidly as the alcohol mingles into your bloodstream.

“You know, kitten, there’s a bunch of empty rooms upstairs. Maybe we could find one ‘em so you can lie down for a while?” Curtis whispers beguilingly in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin and making you shiver in your tiny dress. He casually plays with the flimsy straps, pushing one down and exposing your shoulder. A second later you feel his lips press against your exposed skin, making your heart jump with thrill. There’s something hard poking against your stomach, and you giggle and bite your lip.

“Don’t think I can get up the stairs, Curtis. Can’t even… Can’t even stand up straight!” He’s supporting most of your body weight as you lean heavily into him, loving the feel of strong, beefy arms around you. It’s dark enough that you can almost imagine they belong to someone else…

“Don’t worry, kitten, I’ll carry you up there. Babies like you are meant to be carried, right? And I want to hear you scream like you did for Levinson in the locker room.”

You barely have a chance to consider his proposition before you feel a heavy hand grab your arm and pull you backwards. You stumble in your high heels before your back collides with a very solid, very sturdy chest.

“She’s off limits, Curtis. You know that.” Ari’s voice is low but firm, and you turn to see the captain of the basketball team glaring daggers at his teammate and best friend, his brows furrowed and lips set in a thin line. His fingers are curled around your upper arm, not showing any signs of letting go as he looms formidably like a giant by your side. Sharon’s nowhere to be found.

“Oh yeah? You finally ready to jump ship from one girl to the next, Ari?” Curtis grins, wholly unperturbed as he pops open a can of beer and takes a long swig.

“Very funny, asshole. Go find someone else to take advantage of.” Ari says wryly, still holding you with an iron grip while you gape at both of them. And a part of you – an admittedly pathetic part of you – is thrilled that Ari’s come over to you now. Clearly, he was affected by you talking to his best friend, and that makes you feel special.

Surprisingly, Curtis backs off easily, slinking off into the party like a panther. The crowd swallows him up, and you watch him go for a moment before the crushing grip gets even tighter. You hear a rumble from Ari’s chest as he mauls you to a dim corner of the room. It’s still packed with people, but he manages to prop you up in a dark spot, his palms slamming against the wall on either side of you, trapping you against it.

“Well, well, well. Look who showed up to the party.” Ari sneers, pressing his considerably larger frame against yours. “And you’re drunk already. Hasn’t anyone told you not to accept drinks from strangers?”

You blink up at him, feeling slower and more sluggish than usual thanks to Curtis’ magic drink in your system. But then his words hit you and you scowl, craning your neck to look up at him despite the fact that you’re in heels.

“Curtis isn’t a stranger, he’s my friend!” (You’ve conveniently forgotten the fact that you’d sworn that any friend of Ari’s was an enemy of yours).

Ari scoffs, “He’s not your friend. You’re not allowed to be friends with boys.”

You stick your chin up at him, “Oh yeah? Says who?”

The huge basketball player drives his pelvis into you with force, his clothed erection rutting against your stomach and making your eyes pop wide open and a gasp dies somewhere in your throat.

He smirks, “Says your daddy.”

Beyond Ari’s broad shoulder, you can see the party commencing in full force. The DJ’s switched to a more R&B centric playlist, and the whole room reverberates with the sounds of heavy bass and sexy crooning lyrics. Couples find each other on the dancefloor, strangers join together like magnets. Swaying and grinding and groping each other in the dark.

You blink several times before refocusing your gaze on Ari, trying not to get lost in his eyes or his smell or just how big and manly he is compared to you. No. You had to stay strong and you had to stay away from him. He was trouble with a capital T, and there was no way you were going to let him get away with cornering you at this party – not after all the lies he’d fed you about breaking up with his girlfriend. Not after he’d strung you along for weeks…

“Fuck off, Ari! You have no right to tell me who I can or can’t be friends with! Now just… Just fuck off and go back to your girlfriend an’ leave me alone!” Your palms land on his chest and you push with all your might. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t budge an inch. In fact, he yawns pointedly, infuriating you further as you continue to push his huge, muscular body off of you.

“Please. You thrive on my attention, baby. That’s why you’re wearing this slutty dress and flirting with my best friend.” He says matter-of-factly, making your blood boil and your jaw drop open indignantly.

“Don’t want your attention!”

“Babies like you need attention.” Ari tells you, saying each word slowly as if you truly are a dumb baby who doesn’t understand anything. One of his hands meanders upwards, casually twining a piece of your hair around his finger, “Or else you’ll cry and throw a tantrum. And we don’t want the little baby to throw a tantrum, do we?”

You can’t believe his cockiness! Before you know what you’re doing, you punch him straight in the chest. Hard. But Ari just looks down at you bemusedly. In fact, he looks bored, and that infuriates you even more. And on top of everything else, now your hand hurts and you feel your eyes well with tears.

“Aww, did the little baby hurt herself?” Ari teases, patting your cheek condescendingly. You sniffle and try to swat him away but he’s too quick, too strong. You’re helpless, stuck against his big, hard body and the wall behind your back and he knows it as he smirks. “Poor little baby, don’t cry or throw a tantrum. You’ve got my attention now, haven’t you? And that’s what you wanted.”

“No, I didn’t–!”

He cuts you off with a rough kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. Even in your heels, he still has to lift you up so he can kiss you properly without you having to crane your neck too much because of his height. And so he grabs your hips and hoists you up against the wall, your bare legs dangling on either side of him as he consumes you with a kiss that seems riddled in possessiveness. Until you bang your fists on his shoulders enough times for him to pull away.

“How…How dare you kiss me! When your girlfriend’s at the same party!” You accuse, despite the fact that your heart is racing and lips are tingling and you really want him to kiss you again.

Ari shrugs, still looking bored. “She went to the bathroom with a bunch of her girlfriends to fix her makeup or something. And you know how girls are with the bathroom, they’ll stay in there for ages.” He pulls you snug against him, “Gives us a bit of time to have fun, baby.”

“You’re a man-whore, Ari.”

He snorts, “And you’re lucky you still have my attention, baby girl.”

Your jaw drops open, “You’re the one who’s been texting me nonstop since last week!”

“Just so you wouldn’t feel bad.”

You can’t believe him. Huffing, you try to push past him and storm off. Which proves to be impossible considering he’s still got you lifted up against the wall, his leg snug between your thighs. And even if you were in a position to exit the situation, he was way too big and strong and could easily stop you. Ugh. (But not really because that pathetic part of you really is enjoying the attention he’s giving you right now).

“You look so hot tonight, baby girl.” Ari mutters as he starts kissing at you again. First, he tries your lips. But you’re still stubborn, still mad at him and so you turn your head. That’s not a problem for him, his lips pressing down against your cheek, down to your jaw, then your neck. His hands come up to brazenly squeeze your breasts, making you gasp. “This is some dress. Luckily, attention-seeking baby suits you well.”

“Stop callin’ me a baby!”

He gives your ass a hard smack, smirking when you yelp. You thank your lucky stars that it’s too dark and crowded and noisy for anyone around you to notice how indecent he’s being.

“Oh, so you’re a big girl now, huh?”

“Let go of me so I can go have fun with Wanda–” You once more try to elbow him out of the way but of course, he holds you at bay easily.

“Stay put.” He growls, giving your ass another smack. “And answer my question. I asked you if you’re a big girl now.”

You stick your chin up, “Yes, I am.”

The brunet grins wolfishly. And you’re too tipsy to even notice how, but he suddenly conjures up a tiny translucent plastic baggie, waving it in front of your face. Your eyes take a few seconds to focus on the light blue pills sitting inside, shimmering enticingly as the strobe lights land on them. They’ve got designs printed on them, but you’re way too tipsy to decipher what they are.

“If you’re such a big girl, then you’ll have no problem having some of this big girl candy that daddy got specially for you.”

Your heart lurches. Sure, you’re tipsy as hell right now. But you’re certain you know what those pills are… don’t you? And maybe it isn’t the best idea for you to take your first ecstasy pill with only Ari of all people there with you. But what does it matter? When he’s slowly grinding his thigh up between your legs, one of his hands groping all over your body and pressing up your dress?

“I… uh… I dunno, Ari…”

He takes one tablet out before shoving the baggie into his pocket.

“C’mon. Prove you’re a big girl and take one.”

Every sane cell in your body is screaming at you not to, but it seems like you’re not only drunk off alcohol, but also off of his touch and attention.

Ari’s thumb trails across your lower lip, stroking it gently before tipping it open. You watch him, slack-jawed and in awe, as he slowly brings the blue tablet up to his own lips. He holds it between his teeth before he dips his head and catches your lips in a deep kiss, transferring the pill into your mouth. It rests on your tongue for a second before you gather your saliva and swallow it quickly, wanting to prove to him that you were indeed a big girl.

I’ll just let him kiss me for a while and then I’ll leave, you tell yourself, sighing as he peppers butterfly-light kisses all over your neck and shoulder. He pushes the strap of your dress down, much like how Curtis had done earlier. And all you can think about is how good it feels when Ari does it, when he touches you like how no one else could. Not that you’d ever had anyone else – since Ari was your first. And you fear that no one else would ever compare…

Suddenly, the strobe lights seem so bright, so close. The music feels like it’s coming out from inside you, like The Weeknd is literally belting out his sexy lyrics from inside you. The lights hit Ari’s face, making him look so big and bright, shiny like a diamond. And so close, so sexy. God, he’s so sexy… And you feel sexy too, like the sexiest person in this room, in your sexy red dress with this giant of a man in front of you.

“Wanna kiss you, daddy.”

He smirks against the nape of your neck before straightening up, “Kiss me, then.”

You try, but he’s too tall. Fuck, you really want to kiss him all of a sudden.

“Can’t. I’m too small.” But you don’t feel small. Just the opposite, actually. You feel like you’re on top of the world, like you’re the most beautiful, most incredible person in this universe. You wind your arms around his neck, “Lift me up. Wanna kiss you.”

He’s already got you propped up with his knee jammed between your legs, but for once he makes no smart comment. He wraps his huge hands around your waist and lifting you up. And it feels like you’re as high as the empire state building. No, the moon! Your heart’s soaring and so is your head, your body’s buzzing, the music’s switched up to something even more sexy, and that’s when you kiss him.

“Good girl,” he praises against your lips, but all you can focus on is how good it feels to have his lips on yours, how good it feels that his hands are back on your body, touching you everywhere. “You’re such a good little girl, you know that?”

“Better than Sharon?”

“Of course, baby girl. I don’t care about Sharon. Only you.”

Firmly holding you against the wall, he pushes your dress up till the tight material is practically around your waist. And who cares, who cares, who cares?! Not you, not when his hands glide up your bare thighs, spreading them before cupping your pussy through the lace of your panties.

“These are pretty, baby. Did daddy buy you these?”

“No,” you lie. Of course, he’d bought them for you. Ari loved buying you lingerie. Often, he’d have it delivered to your dorm room with a special note telling you to take pictures and send them to him. Sometimes, he’d send other things along with the lingerie. Like once, he’d sent this sex toy – a dildo which was almost as big as his dick. And there was a note too, ordering you to put on the lingerie and facetime him immediately. He’d made you fuck yourself on the dildo repeatedly that night, all while you thanked daddy over and over again for your new toy and lingerie set. All while he sat in the comfort of his own dorm room, smoking a cigarette with a smirk on his face, casually pumping his dick and getting off on your humiliation and total submission. Well, you got off on it too.

Now, it only takes a tug of his wrist and your panties are slipping down your legs. They get caught in your heels and you impatiently shake them off, watching the lace as it lays on the ground. That’s when you feel a rush of air against your bare pussy, now only concealed by the flimsy material of your dress.

“God, Levinson, she looks wasted as fuck!”

You vaguely hear someone say that, but you feel like you are lightyears away from everyone else. As if you and Ari are on your very own planet where only the two of you matter.

As if on cue, Ari presses his clothed crotch against your bare pussy, grinding the denim up and down while you pant in his arms. God, you want him so bad.

“Bad little baby, you got my jeans all wet in the middle of a party.” Ari scolds. But you pay him no heed, instead busying yourself with kissing up his collarbone and smelling his manly cologne, feeling his muscles that ripple through his shirt.

“You’re so big and strong,” you murmur, saying exactly what you’re thinking like you have no filter.

Ari puffs his chest out, “I am, aren’t I? Especially compared to a little baby girl like you.” He drives his crotch against your bare pussy once more, lewdly grinding against you till the denim is soaking wet. And oh, the rough material feels so good against your clit, so good that you don’t even care that he’s dry humping you in the middle of a party with so many people around you.

His hand slips up to grab your hair, and he yanks you up roughly so he can put his lips to your ear, “You’re my little baby princess, aren’t you?”

A shiver runs down your spine. You like the sound of that.

“Y-Yeah, I am!”

 “You like how much bigger I am than you?” He licks the shell of your ear.

“Ah – yes!”

“And you’ll do anything I tell you, won’t you? Because you’re just a baby and you need daddy to guide you. Right?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You rut against him desperately, hoping he’ll carry you up to a bedroom and fuck you hard. It’s not like you’d be able to walk by yourself. Hell, you can’t even stand by yourself right now, which was why he was holding you up like you were a ragdoll. In the midst of a sea of people, but all you can focus on is Ari. And how high you feel, like you’re as light as a feather, as free as a bird who welcomes the cage of his grip.

You watch as he undoes his fly, pulling his hard cock out of his jeans. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head at how brazenly he does it – in a room full of people, no less! But you lick your lips, feeling your pussy clench at how fat and thick his cock looks under the pulsating lights. God, he was so big everywhere!

“So if I tell you that daddy wants to fuck his little girl in front of everyone right now, you’d say yes, wouldn’t you?”

You lick your lips, lust pulsing through every vein in your body. You’re already humping against him like a wanton whore, loving the feel of his bare cock gliding against your slippery slit in a room full of people.

“M-Maybe we can we go upstairs, daddy?”

“No. Here. C’mon, baby, you know you want to.” He nibbles on your ear, “I’ll make you my girlfriend if you do this for me.”

Your heart lifts, your mind feeling euphoric at the idea of that. And you believe him, of course you believe him! How could you not, when you’re feeling so on top of the world right now? Heart beating so fast, blood pumping even faster… And he said he’d make you his girlfriend! Oh, you wanted that so badly! You’d do anything to be his girlfriend, anything at all…

“O-Okay, daddy, I guess you can– AH, FUCK!”

He pistons his dick inside you in one quick movement, holding your hips firmly in place so you don’t fall over from the sheer force of him forcing his fat dick into your tiny, leaking hole. God, he was so big. You’d never get used to it.

“Good baby,” he smirks. There are waves of people around you – an entire crowd of sweaty, writhing bodies. But all you can feel is Ari, his cock so big and imposing yet your pussy swallows him readily as he bottoms out inside you. Grabbing your face, he kisses you possessively, and you can feel his cocky smirk through the kiss, “fuck yeah, just as tight as always. God, I missed my little pussy.”

Being fucked by Ari in the middle of the dancefloor of a frat party, drunk and high off your mind while his girlfriend was somewhere in this house. It wasn’t how you’d planned your night to go at all, but you cling to Ari like a koala, allowing him to control your body and take pleasure from you. You can hear him groaning as he fucks you slowly, trying to cover your body completely with his. You can hear him grimace, mutter how fucking tight you are as he tries to hold back from tearing your pussy apart like how he usually does when the two of you are alone.

“Not such a big girl now, are you?” he mocks, biting at your bottom lip and sucking on it as his dick drives slowly in and out of you. “Getting fucked in the middle of a party because you can’t ever say no to me, huh?”

“Nngh, Ari please. F-Feel so full,” you moan, never wanting him to stop. Maybe you’d regret this later, but right now it’s like you’re in a bubble of pleasure that has you ignoring the real world around you.

“And the fact that you thought you could make me jealous by talking to Curtis,” Ari huffs, giving you a particularly hard thrust that sends you reeling, and you bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming at the top of your lungs. “What a pathetic little game you played, baby. But I’ll never get jealous, because I already know I own you. And you know it too. I own your fucking pussy.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You gasp, feeling him so deep inside you, it’s like he’s practically in your womb. You wrap your legs tighter around him, grinding your clit against his hairy abdomen. The sensation feels heavenly, and you’re so, so close…

“Promise me you’ll never fucking speak to Curtis again,” he demands.

“Fuck me harder, daddy–OW!”

He slaps your ass hard, and you reel into him, shocked at the blow. You’d have fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up in his muscular arms.

“Fucking say you’ll never speak to Curtis again,” Ari says through gritted teeth, and his fingers wrap around your throat. Your breath hitches, eyes widening. But your pussy squeezes around his dick at the same time his hand squeezes your throat, “Say it or I’ll choke you the fuck out.”

Fear splices through the euphoria you’re feeling, but his hand constricting around your throat, him controlling your breathing – it turns you on so fucking much at the same time. But his eyes look so dark, darker than you’ve ever seen them. Is it because he’s high too? Or is it something else entirely?

“W-Won’t talk to him,” you promise, barely getting the words out.

Ari smiles and releases your throat, and you desperately gasp for breath. But when he kisses you again, you can’t help but hungrily kiss him back.

“I own you,” he repeats, slipping his hand down to play with your clit, pushing your dress up in the process. You’re high out of your mind and yet you still try to push the hem of your dress back down, only for him to slap your hands away. “Don’t hide this baby pussy from me, sweetheart.”

“E-Everyone can see,” you moan, breath hitching when he pinches your clit harshly before rubbing circles on it.

“Let them watch, baby.”

As if on cue, you hear someone whistle:

“You’re a fucking dog, Levinson! Can’t even wait to find a room to get your dick wet, huh?”

“She looks high off her ass, bro. Classic Levinson.”

Ari only laughs, continuing to fuck you and make out with you in the middle of the party as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to be doing. And if he’s okay with it, then it must be okay, right?

“This is what happens when you come to a party trying to be an attention-seeker,” he tells you, his fingers leaving your clit as he brings them up to his mouth, sucking noisily, “fuck, you taste so good, sweetheart. Your little baby pussy’s been wet for me all night, huh?”

“Yes, daddy,” you say dutifully, meeting his thrusts now as you feel yourself getting close. You continue grinding your clit on his hairy abs as he fucks you, the sensation so heavenly as you teeter on the edge of your orgasm, blabbering out your inner thoughts: “I…I think about you all the time, want you all the time. Wish you were with me all the time….”

“Mm, it gets you all wet, doesn’t it? Fucking a man who’s got a girlfriend?”

You gasp, but your walls clench around him all the same.

“Mm, I felt that, you slutty little baby,” Ari smacks your ass again, rocking his hips hard against you as you cry from the pleasure, “It turns you on that I have a girlfriend and yet I’m here with you, fucking you in front of all these people like you’re my personal fucking whore.”

“Ari, I’m so close, I–”

 “Bet you wish she was watching us, huh?” He says suddenly, “I bet that would get you off, wouldn’t it, you dirty little slut?”

“Nooo,” you moan, but you can feel thrills rippling through your body, your pleasure mounting higher and higher as the music drones on all around you.

Ari licks his lips like he’s the devil himself, “Don’t fucking lie to me, sweetheart. I bet you wish Sharon was here, watching me fuck you.” His eyes glint wickedly, “Bet you wish she was getting herself off to us, don’t you? Fingering herself while she watches her boyfriend cheat on her with a slutty little girl like you.”

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mm, and what would you do? Cry your little baby tears and beg for her forgiveness?” Ari chuckles lowly, and you can’t believe you’re on the brink of orgasm and about to lose it and he’s just there, calm as ever as he fucks you in this room full of people. Forcing his big, fat cock inside you with a smirk on his face as if he owns the whole room. “You’d beg for my girlfriend’s forgiveness while you take my fat fucking cock inside your sexy little pussy. And she’d watch us, watch me call you a bad fucking girl while I fuck you so hard that I’d probably knock you up. And I’ve never fucked her like that, baby. I would never fuck her like that. Only you.”

“Daddy, please,” you sob and sob, clutching at his shirt because you feel so overwhelmed.

He grabs your face roughly, making you look at him.

“And you’d watch her rub her pussy as she watches us fuck, wouldn’t you? And she’d cum all over her fingers, watching her boyfriend fuck the living daylights out of you, watching you be a helpless little slut for your daddy. And you’d love every second of it, baby. Because you’re fucking sick, just like me…”

Your orgasm is earth-shattering, breaking your body apart as you squirt all over his huge fucking dick. And he fucks you through it, coaxing your cream out of you as you cry and cry, any sound you make getting drowned out by the blaring music, any thrashing movement blurred by the dancing bodies around you. Some of them know what’s going on, you know they do. But others don’t, lost in their own world as they dance around the two of you. And waves of searing pleasure overtake your body, over and over again as you grind up against him.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Ari grunts, “cum on my daddy dick like the good little baby you are. God, fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so good, baby, feels so tight and sexy. Gimme another one.”

You cum again, as if your body is programmed to listen to him, as if just his words can make you orgasm. And that’s when he blows his load, muttering a string of curses as he empties himself inside you. He always came inside you, no matter what. And you guessed that he wasn’t going to stop that streak now, even in the midst of a crowded party. One or two guys are ogling at the two of you, but you’re too fucked out to care, your spent body sagging against Ari’s huge frame as he fills you up with his hot cum.

Everything is blurry for a while after that. You’re on the brink of passing out – not even from the copious amounts of drugs and alcohol in your system, but from how fucked out you feel. But you jolt out of it when Ari pulls out of you, whining needily but he ignores you. Instead, he pulls your dress back down over your ass, and you can feel his hot cum trickling down your thigh.

“How was she, Levinson?” Some guy pipes up from within the crowd.

“Move along, smartass.” Ari glares daggers at the random guy, flipping him off as he shields your body with his bigger one. But there are more guys surrounding you, more people beginning to notice what exactly is going on. Ari seems to catch on to this too, shooting dirty looks all around him as he tries to tug your short dress down even further to cover you more, as if he was fuelled by horniness before but now that he’s come down from that high, he’s hyperaware of everyone around you.

“Can’t feel my legs, daddy,” you lean heavily against him.

He picks you back up, carrying you through the crowd. You can vaguely hear the voices of other boys over the loud, pounding music. Thumping Ari on the back, congratulating him. You hide your face in his chest, trying not to think about what’s just happened. He takes you up the stairs, through random corridors, into an empty bedroom, and finally, a bathroom.

“Fuck, baby, you okay?” He asks after setting you down on the sink.

“I’m good,” you grab at him, trying to wrap your legs around him and pull him into you. You can still feel the effects of the little blue pill, and you try to kiss him but he pulls away, chuckling.

“We need to clean you up.”

Funny. He never cleaned you up before. In the past, he’d always fuck you hard and good and then leave you to get yourself together while he typed away on his phone or went outside to smoke. Then, he’d either come back inside to fuck you again, or he’d give you a quick kiss and leave, telling you he was late for practice or something along those lines. But right now, it looks like he was sticking around, and that makes your heart skip a beat.

“I can’t believe I just let you fuck me in front of everyone. It almost doesn’t feel real!” You muse out loud, wondering maybe it was all just a dream, because you feel so hazy and warm. You swing your heel clad feet, accidentally catching him in the stomach. He shoots you a warning look, grabbing your calves to still you before his expression relaxes.

“It’s what you deserved for ignoring my texts.” He smirks before grabbing a wad of toilet paper. He wets some of it under the tap and swipes at your thighs, cleaning his cum off you. You bite your lip, watching his tanned biceps ripple as he gets dangerously close to your pussy. You grab his wrist, pushing it between your legs.

“I think you missed a spot, daddy,” you say in what you hope is a demure and sexy manner.

Ari groans, “Don’t tempt me, baby girl.”

He feels around your folds, licking his lips as he plays with the mess he’s left in your pussy. But you whine after a while, clearly too sensitive for round two so you push his hand away.

“Lemme feel you,” he persists.

“Nuh uh, too sensitive.”

He rolls his eyes and you giggle, reaching out to smooth his long hair, twining a few strands around your finger. You stay like that for a while, liking how he looks at you in the privacy of this bathroom, where the music from outside is still thumping softly and yet it feels like the two of you are in your own bubble. Where the dull orange light makes him look double handsome, and it’s just the two of you and you can pretend he’s your boyfriend and you’re a happy couple and it’s the best feeling in the world.

Until Ari’s hand slips down between your legs again.

“Hey!” You squeal, batting him off, but he doesn’t relent.

“Let daddy feel you one more time, baby girl,” he tries to sweet talk you, but you shake your head, pushing him away again. That’s when he gets a glint in his eye, digging his fingers into your ribs instead. You squeal as he tickles you, and you try to do it back but clearly, he isn’t as ticklish as you because he just shoots you an amused look. You laugh and laugh, till you can’t breathe and even he chuckles, his face pink.

“Ari, will I be your girlfriend now?” You ask in a small voice once you’ve stopped laughing.

A pause. And then he sighs.

“Baby, we already have a good thing going–”

“So then why can’t we go out on dates and do all the romantic things that boyfriends and girlfriends do?” Your lower lip wobbles but you will yourself to remain calm and collected.

“You know why.” Ari avoids your gaze, backing up and gathering all the toilet paper he’s just used. He stuffs it into the bin before washing his hands, and the whole time you look at him, waiting for him to elaborate except he says nothing more.

“B-But I let you fuck me in front of everyone,” you scrunch your eyes shut to keep your tears at bay, “I let you do anything to me, Ari. And you keep telling me that you’ll make me your girlfriend but it never happens. An’ I trust you more than anything even though you keep lying to me, and–”

He clears his throat, running his hands through his hair before he reaches out as if to cup your face. But at the last second he holds back, fists curled to his sides. “Don’t do this right now. Look, I’ll get you some water to sober you up, then you can call your friend Carla–”

“Her name is Wanda.”

“Call your friend Wanda, and maybe she can take you home. You’re completely wasted.” He can’t help but reach out, fixing the strap of your dress which you hadn’t even noticed had slipped down your shoulder. God, you were a mess. A complete and utter mess and he’d used you again and now he wanted nothing to do with you. His fingers linger, brushing against your bare shoulder before he snatches his hand back and clears his throat once more.

“Is it because I’m not good enough?” A lone tear drips down your cheek. And it’s crazy because not even a minute ago you were laughing your ass off.

“No–”

“Then why does it feel like you’re using me?”

No one speaks for several seconds. All you can hear is your own breathing, how you hiccup every now and then. How your head is beginning to pound and how all your emotion seem amplified. You know it’s because you’re drunk, and yet you’re hoping you may get something sincere from him in this bathroom right now…

But Ari only shakes his head, keeping his eyes trained somewhere beyond your shoulder, as if he can’t seem to look you in the eye…

“Now’s not the time to talk about this–”

“You lie to me all the time, Ari, and you always take me for granted. An’ I fall for it every time because I wanna be your girlfriend so bad…” Your voice falters, lip curling and tears welling in your eyes, “I really, really like you, Ari. Don’t you like me too? Enough to make me your girlfriend?”

“I already have a girlfriend…” He blurts out.

His words hit you like shards of glass, piercing you from the inside out. You feel like you’re falling, and even Ari looks guilty, as if he can’t believe he’s just said that so abruptly. He’s always come up with a story when it comes to his relationship; “we broke up,” or “we’re having problems,” or “she’s a bitch, I don’t care about her.” But it seems like now, he’s really just laying it all out on the table. She’s his girlfriend. And she always would be.

You bow your head, feeling like a veil’s lifted somewhere between the two of you. “I guess that just makes me the girl you keep around for easy sex.”

“You know it’s more than that, baby–”

His phone rings at that exact moment, cutting him off. But he looks relieved to be interrupted, and hastily fishes it out of his pocket. You sigh, staring down dejectedly into your lap. He keeps his voice low as he talks on the phone, but you catch a few words here and there, like “Sharon,” and “she’s looking for you.”

“Baby, I gotta go. But I want you to stay in here until you’re sober enough to go find your friend.” Ari says, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“Y-You’re leaving?”

A pause.

“Yes.”

Another tear trickles down your cheek.

“Please stay with me. I don’t wanna be alone right now.” He’s left you after sex many times before, but this time feels different. You feel vulnerable, small, afraid. Little you in this big party where you’d only feel safe if you were with him. God, it felt so special whenever it was just you and him alone together. Like right now, in the bathroom, where he’d carried you up in his arms, cleaned you himself and laughed while he tickled you. Oh, it felt so special to you! Could he not feel that too? Why did he want to leave?

Ari inhales deeply, “Don’t, okay? You know I can’t stay. Sharon… She’s making a scene. She’s really drunk, people are starting to notice I’m not there with her–”

“I’m really drunk too.” And high.

He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, “That’s why you’re getting so emotional, okay? Just… Just call Wanda. Or one of your other friends.”

His words sting, and you know you should just back off. Let him do whatever the fuck he wants to do since clearly all he wanted was to get away from you. But neediness and sorrow clouds your brain and covers your heart, and in a last ditch effort, you reach out to grab his hand.

“Please stay,” you beg, and you feel like you’ve swallowed your pride but you don’t even care anymore, “Please, Ari. Y-You don’t have to make me your girlfriend, okay? I’m sorry I brought it up. Please, just stay with me. Don’t leave me alone, please, please, please–”

“Stop,” he says gently, peeling your hand off of his, “don’t make this bigger than it is. We hooked up like we always do, but I need to go now, okay? I’ll text you later.”

He backs away, pausing at the door. Hope fills your heart, and you wait with bated breath. But then he leaves, walking out casually like all he’s done is use the bathroom. And you sit there, his rejection like poison in your veins. Frozen, drunk, sad, dejected. Oh God, had you really expected him to stay? To be different this time? How many more times were you going to let him lie to you, disrespect you, embarrass you, play you?

How many more times till he broke you completely?

***

“C’mon, Wanda, pick the fuck up.” You mutter, jabbing at your phone in annoyance. The screen freezes for several seconds, before your call goes to her voice message. For the fourth time in a row. You bite your lip, daring to check your battery. Five percent. Great. Just Great.

 After Ari had left you in the bathroom, all you’d wanted to do was curl up in the bathtub and cry the whole night away. And that’s what you’d been doing for at least an hour, until some horny couple barged in and started having sex against the sink. You’drun out of there in a hurry, and now here you were at the front of the frat house, wanting nothing more than to go home.

“Where the hell are you, Wanda?” You murmur, calling her again and praying to God your phone battery lasts until you find her. You were still drunk and not exactly capable of combing through the crowd of people in search of your friend. When she doesn’t pick up again, you feel a helplessness take over your body, like it had back in the bathroom. All you want to do is collapse down on the grass and cry like a baby, but you will yourself to persevere before you try calling her again.

“Excuse me, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

The voice is deep and rumbling, with an undertone of amusement. You don’t even bother looking up from your phone, your eyes too busy staring down your battery percentage as it lowers down to three percent.

“I’m fine,” you say distractedly, trying to walk further away from the frat house in hopes of getting better signal. “I’m just trying to call my friend so we can go ho–”

Your heel catches against a rock on the grass, sending you flying. You brace yourself for the fall but it never comes. Instead, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist, catching you and pulling you back till you collide against a hard chest.

“Careful, baby,” the amused voice murmurs in your ear.

“Oh, um, thank you, uh–” You straighten up and turn around to face the stranger who’d saved you, finding yourself face to face with a built looking chest wearing an off-white t-shirt and varsity jacket. You crane your neck upwards, breath catching in your throat at what you see.

The stranger is tall and blonde, his pale skin shimmering in the moonlight (probably because you’re drunk because that’s what it looked like). His muscles ripple under his shirt, and he runs his hand through his hair in a way that’s all too familiar. His blue eyes sparkle as he smiles down at you, his arms still around your waist as if to hold you steady.

“Wow,” you say dumbly. He was handsome!

He smirks down at you, “Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t quite catch that?” He had an effortless way of speaking, like a relaxed drawl as if he was far removed from all the craziness of the party going on around him.

“I – uh – I said thanks,” you babble, “thanks for saving me.”

“You’re welcome. What’s your name?”

You tell him, trying to keep your words from slurring because of the damned alcohol still pumping in your system. You’re acutely aware of his arms still around you, and the fact that your heart is beating fast and hard as you look up at him almost in awe. In your inebriated state, his pale colouring made it look like there was a halo around him (either that or a streetlight was shining directly at him), but it made him look almost angelically handsome.

“I’m Steve.” He says, confidently reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, “What’s a cute little thing like you doing out by yourself so late at night?”

You stick your chin up indignantly, “Not by myself! I’m looking for Wanda!”

“Who’s that, sweetheart?”

“My best friend.”

“Well, she isn’t much of a best friend if she left you all alone at this party, is she?”

Steve cocks his head to the side, a crooked smile on his face that’s so attractive it makes you swoon inwardly, despite what he was implying.

“She didn’t leave me, Steve! She’s just…” you helplessly scan through the groups of people that have spilled out into the front yard of the frat house, “she’s around here somewhere…” Your eyes suddenly snap back over to the blonde, suspicion overtaking you. Who exactly was this guy, and where had he just appeared from, looking all handsome and angelic?

“Do you…uh…do you go to St. Andrews’ too?” You hardly know everyone on campus, seeing as your college is massive and there’s way too many people that go there. But you’re sure you’d remember seeing someone as handsome as him.

“Nope, I go to St. Jude’s.”

Oh. The enemy college. At least according to Ari (who was the main source of most of your information since he knew everything). Ari hated St Jude’s’ basketball team, as they were the main rivals of his own basketball team. You weren’t much into sports or any of that (you only attended Ari’s basketball games to look cute and get his attention), but you suddenly recognise St. Jude’s distinctive blue and white coloured varsity jacket that Steve has on. It resembles Ari’s varsity jacket – which is red and gold for St. Andrew’s.

“What’re you doing here, then?” You ask.

Steve shrugs, “Me and my buddies come to your parties every now and then…” he nods at two other guys in similar varsity jackets. They stand across the lawn from the two of you, talking to a bunch of girls. You look at them for a few seconds before Steve clears his throat, as if he wants you to look at him and him only.

“I think the real question is, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

You frown, “What do you mean?”

“What’s a baby like you doing all alone at a frat house this late?” His thumb strokes your bare arm, his other hand still firm on your waist. “You’re too cute and innocent for a party like this, the frat boys will eat you alive.”

His eyes glint as he says it, but you presume that’s just you imagining things because you’re drunk.

“Well actually, I’m not a baby and I wasn’t alone,” you try not to hyper-focus on his thumb circling against your skin, “I was with Wanda, and then I was with Ari, and then–”

Steve’s grip tightens, “Ari?”

“Yeah, Ari. He’s my boyfr– Well no, actually he’s my nothing. He’s no one…” you sigh sadly, “I’m no one to him and he’s no one to me…He made that pretty clear tonight.”

The blonde whistles lowly, his hand still rubbing soothingly up and down your arm. And you kind of don’t want him to stop, because he feels so warm and he’s making you feel warm and it’s making you hurt a teensy bit less.

“A pretty little girl like you doesn’t deserve to get her heart broken like that,” Steve comments, “and you don’t deserve to be left alone to cry by yourself either.”

“W-Wasn’t crying!” you lie. God, he was making you sound so pathetic.

He weaves you through the crowd, his grip on you tight as he walks you over to a more secluded area of the front yard. With less people around, his arms catch around your waist and he yanks you closer to him, till you’re flush against his chest, your eyes wide as you look up at him and swallow hard.

“My point still stands,” he says, his voice so confident and velvety smooth. “Now, if you were my girl, you wouldn’t even be allowed to step foot inside a party like this, let alone be left unattended.”

A thrill ripples down your spine, but you barely have time to acknowledge it before you feel a rough grip on your wrist, yanking you away from Steve with heavy force.

“What the hell is this?!” Ari growls, pushing you behind his own body before he squares up to Steve. You gape over at both men, looking from one to the other. Ari was the biggest guy you knew, but Steve matched him in both height and stature. Head-to-head, the two men stare the other down, almost as if they already know each other. Side by side, you notice they look kind of similar. Both of them were tall and bulky, with vivid blue eyes. But Steve was angelically blonde and pale, and Ari was tanner, rougher, darker. Steve looked calm, unperturbed by the interruption – but Ari looked pissed off beyond belief.

“What are you doing here, Rogers?” He seethes.

Steve smirks, “I wasn’t aware that you owned this frat house, Ari.”

“Cut the bullshit. You know you’re not welcome here. Just because your own college parties are filled with ugly sluts doesn’t mean you have to come to mine.”

“Yours? And who exactly put you in charge?”

Steve steps closer as if to challenge Ari, but Ari just glowers at him before shaking his head.

“Do whatever the fuck you want, Steve. But she’s off limits. Everyone here knows she’s mine.” Ari’s still got your wrist in a death-grip, and you wince in pain when he squeezes even tighter.

“Lemme go, Ari!” You try to fight against his hold but to no avail.

The blonde snorts, “Oh yeah, it really looks like she’s yours, Levinson.”

“Fuck off.”

“I know what your girlfriend looks like, asshole. I know it’s not her.” Steve’s still got that smirk on his face, and you can see Ari’s face going redder and redder. God, he was really getting to him! And they did in fact know each other!

Ari pointedly turns his back to Steve as if to shut him out of the conversation. Instead, he looks at you. “Baby, why are you still here? It’s getting really late, let me call you an Uber.”

Baby? Was he serious? After he’d left you alone in the bathroom even after you’d begged and pleaded with him to stay with you?!

You feel a surge of anger, “No! Don’t want you to call me anything, Ari! Just leave me alone, I can get home by myself.”

He frowns, “You’re still drunk. I’m gonna call you a–”

“Where’s Sharon, Levinson?” Steve pipes up from behind in an amused tone, as if this is all an evening’s worth of entertainment to him. “That’s her name, right? Your actual girlfriend?”

Ari whips around with lightning speed. Your heart jumps to your throat as the brunet lunges forward, grabbing Steve by the collar and getting all up in his face, “If you don’t shut the fuck up–”

“Or what, huh, Levinson?”

The brunet lowers his voice, “You know damn well I can beat your ass off court just as much as I can in court.”

Steve scoffs, “You beat my team, not me.”

Oh, so Steve was a basketball player too. He and Ari had played against each other.

Ari barks out a laugh, “Oh yeah, I forgot you got benched in the last game. Can’t seem to keep that temper in check, can you?”

The blonde shrugs, “I don’t know, Levinson. Seems like you’re the one who’s getting all worked up right now.”

“Go to hell, asshole–”

“BABY, THERE YOU ARE!”

Sharon stumbles up to where the three of you are standing, her dress riding high, heels in her hand and hair a mess. She’s even drunker than you are, and yet she still looks beautiful – in a dishevelled sort of way. Like Serena Van Der Woodsen, with her blonde hair so perfectly tangled. She looks tall and somehow still graceful despite how she all but falls on top of Ari, who lets go of Steve’s collar as he holds her up.

“Thought I lost you again,” she giggles, planting her lips on his. You blanch and look away, feeling like someone’s put your heart in a shredder. You almost don’t notice Steve grabbing you around the waist and pulling you back into him. Sharon continues to kiss Ari, making out with him except he keeps turning his head – but she’s too drunk to notice. “Babe, could you please take me home? I’m tired.”

Ari grimaces, “Sure. Why don’t you go wait by the car and I’ll be over when I’m ready?”

Sharon blinks, “What car?”

“My car.”

“What does it look like?”

Ari groans. Steve laughs. Sharon looks confused. And you hope the ground would swallow you whole so you wouldn’t have to witness the happy couple together right in front of your face.

“Sharon, just go wait somewhere else while I–”

“Are you guys a couple?” Sharon cuts him off, finally acknowledging you and Steve. “You look totally cute together if you are.”

“They’re not a couple.” Ari seethes, his blue eyes narrowing at Steve’s hands on your waist. “Let go of her, asshole.” he says quietly (not that Sharon would have even noticed). Steve ignores his, pretending he didn’t hear him.

“I, uh, I have to go,” you mumble, unable to stand being in their presence even a second longer. Sharon’s gone back to sloppily kissing up Ari’s jaw, and you just can’t take it. His words from earlier keep ringing through your ears: “I already have a girlfriend,” “I already have a girlfriend,” “I already have a girlfriend.”

You take your phone out, ready to call an Uber and be done with this night. You’d go home and charge your phone and try to reach Wanda from there. But just as you’re about to type in your address on the app, your screen goes black. Dead. Great. Fucking great.

“Oh no,” you whisper softly in dismay.

Ari’s already got his own phone out, typing away and presumably calling you an Uber whilst simultaneously trying to keep Sharon upright and at bay.

“I’ll take you home.” Steve volunteers.

“The hell you will,” Ari sneers, “Back the fuck off, Rogers, I’m calling her an Uber.” He looks like he wants to say more, his gaze still locked on the way Steve is holding you. But he can’t, of course he can’t… not with her here.

“Babe, I don’t feel well,” Sharon moans suddenly. Her face looks slightly green, and she’s stopped kissing Ari now.

“Just give me a second,” He tells her distractedly.

“Maybe you should worry about getting your own girlfriend home first, Levinson.” Steve says smugly before turning to you, “C’mon, let’s go.”

Ari’s eyes fix on yours, “Don’t go with him.”

You almost do obey. Because you always obey Ari. He’s told you in the past, warned you that you always have to do what he says because he’s your daddy and he’s in charge. But… But what about how you’d begged him to stay earlier, and he hadn’t? Now was your chance to do the same thing to him, give him a taste of his own medicine. That, and you also can’t stand to be in close vicinity of him and Sharon right now, or else you’d burst into tears again.

Pointedly avoiding Ari’s gaze, you look up at Steve instead, “O-Okay. Let’s go.”

The blonde tugs you along with him, and you purposely drown Ari out as Steve leads you away. And part of you wants Ari to follow, to push Sharon away and come after you, rip you out of Steve’s grip and take you home himself. But he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t. You don’t dare look back, knowing the happy couple is probably making out again, and you’ve already been forgotten.

“He’s such an asshole!” You burst out, “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!”

Steve chuckles, “He’s an asshole, alright.”

“He really is! Hate how he treats me, an’ how I keep giving him chances. He just hurts me again and again and again and–”

“Let’s get you home, baby,” the blonde interrupts, getting his phone out.

You wait a handful of seconds, swaying in your heels but liking how he’s got his hand firmly on your lower back to keep you steady. You look up at him expectantly, “Well, aren’t you gonna ask for my address?”

“What?”

“My address, silly! How else am I gonna get home?”

He blinks, before slowly handing you his phone. You miss the glint in his eye, however, and how his lip curls up subtly in… disappointment? “Oh yeah. How stupid of me to forget.”

You type your address in on his Uber app and click accept before beaming up at him, “Thank you so much, Steve. It really means a lot to me, I honestly don’t know how else I would’ve got home! But don’t worry, I’ll pay you back! We’ll split the cost in half, and–”

He presses his finger to your lips, effectively shushing you before he shoots you that charming lop-sided smile of his, making your insides melt. “You don’t need to pay me back, sweetheart. What kind of a guy would I be if I took money from a little baby like you?”

You blink, feeling an extreme sense of dejavu. He sounded exactly like… Ari. Ari never let you pay for anything ever. Well, Ari never really took you out anywhere in public, but the two of you would always order takeout whenever he came over to your dorm room. And he’d never skimp out either, ordering from fancy places like Nobu because he said you were his baby and he wanted the best for you. And whenever you tried to pay your share, he’d just snort and push your hand away, “What kind of a guy would I be if I took money from a helpless little baby like you?”

The reminder of Ari has a ton of different emotions washing over you all over again. Sadness, jealousy, anger…. You shake your poor drunken, muddled head, “Oh, I hate Ari so much, Steve! He’s heartless, and he–”

You’re still going on and on by the time the Uber arrives. And you’re so into your tirade, that you don’t even notice Steve’s arms going around you again, holding you tight against him as if he owns you. You don’t notice how his hands wander, how he rubs the bare skin of your arms, the small of your back, going lower and lower. His fingers playing with the short hem of your dress…

You do notice him slip cash into the driver’s hand… Probably the tip, you presume, too drunk to care.

Your mind wanders to Ari again during the ride home. You sit in the backseat with Steve, staring out  the window gloomily as you think about how he broke your heart. Oh, how could you have been so stupid? So gullible? So innocent? You’d never let anyone take advantage of you like that again…

“You okay?” Steve asks, pressing his hand on your thigh.

You nod, “Yeah, I’m just thinkin’ about how much I hate Ari, and–”

“Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been listening to you complain about Ari for the past ten minutes straight. Don’t mention him again.”

He says it softly, calmly, and yet you shut your mouth and straighten up. Despite being drunk, you can detect the seriousness of his tone, and a hint of a threat too. Which you’re probably imagining because why would Steve threaten you? He was so sweet! Wasn’t he?

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you say softly, relaxing once he shoots you a smile.

The drive continues, and Steve’s hand remains on your bare thigh, squeezing every now and again. You don’t mind, his touch helping you feel grounded. You’re still so drunk and probably high too, from that damned stupid pill Ari had given you. No, no, no! You scrunch your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him.

“Baby, why don’t you come sit on my lap?” Steve says suddenly.

You whip your head in his direction, “Wh-What?”

“The Uber driver just told me the backseat is really dirty, and you’re in a dress, so I think you’d better sit on me.”

You glance at the driver, who looks straight ahead at the road, not batting an eye or saying a single word. You’re too drunk to argue, and so you just nod. Steve grabs you by the waist, easily lifting you up and placing you on his lap. You can’t help but welcome his warmth, shivering in your skimpy little dress as you wiggle around, trying to get comfortable. He notices, immediately shrugging off his varsity jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“There. Nice and warm now?”

You smile up at him gratefully, “Yeah! Thanks so much, Steve!” You try not to ogle at his biceps.

“You look cute in my jacket,” Steve chucks you under the chin, “It’s huge on you.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re huge,” you blurt out, before your eyes widen.

“And you’re just tiny.” He quips, pulling you closer.

This was weird, right? You’d only just met him a mere twenty minutes ago, and now you were already in a car with him? In his lap, no less? But you could trust Steve, right? He was nice enough to give you a lift home when he didn’t even know you, and he didn’t want you to touch the dirty backseat either. And he’d given you his jacket so you’d stay warm. All of those looked like green flags to you. Unlike dumb stupid Ari, who was one red flag after another!

The car hits a snag on the road, causing you to bounce inadvertently in his lap. Steve groans as if he’s in pain, and you shoot him an apologetic look.

“Sorry, Stevie. That was an accident.”

He smirks, “Stevie?”

Heat spreads across your cheeks, unaware that you’ve said it out loud… But it’s a cute nickname nonetheless, and so you just shrug awkwardly, a sheepish smile on your face.

Steve’s hand rubs up and down your back soothingly, “It’s a long way till your house, baby. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

You nod, “Well, I’m a freshman at St. Andrews’ College, and…and…” your voice drifts off as you notice how close you are to him, how you can see the freckles and beauty marks on his face, how deep his blue eyes are up close. So much like Ari’s…

Steve licks his lips, “How does a little freshman like you get mixed up with an asshole like Ari Levinson?”

Oh God, where do you even begin? Instead, you shake your head, “I-I thought I wasn’t allowed to mention Ari again?”

“You’re right,” Steve’s eyes twinkle, and he brushes a piece of your hair behind your ear, “You take instructions well, sweetheart, that makes you a good girl.”

You glow at the praise, before the car hits another snag on the road – this time a much bigger one. You bounce on Steve’s lap again, biting your lip when you feel the rough material of his jeans graze against you down there. And that’s when you come to a horrific realisation.

You’re not wearing any panties.

Your mind flashes back to earlier in the night. Ari fucking you in the middle of the dancefloor. Lifting your dress up. Your panties slipping down your legs. You stepping out of them, the lacy thong lying on the floor. That was the last you’d seen it…

You gulp, looking down at Steve’s lap slowly. No, no, no. Oh no… There it is, plain as day… A wet stain on his jeans, directly beneath you. You hear a low groan, and you know he’s seen it too.

“Oh my gosh, Steve, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I–”

“It’s okay,” he breathes, his voice throaty as he grips your hips to hold you in place, “Maybe you should move…”

“Yes, of course, sorry, I’ll just…” You hastily try to get off his lap, but he holds on tight, not allowing you to budge.

“No, baby girl. I mean move like this.” With fluid confidence, he guides your hips over thick, jean-clad thigh. You gasp breathily, hands shaking as they automatically grip his shoulders. Your bare cunt grazes against the rough denim, pleasurable sensations thrumming through your body. Oh God, what were you doing? You glance fearfully at the driver, but he seems to be in his own world, carefully ignoring the two of you from the driver’s seat.

“Stevie, we shouldn’t–”

“Shhh, move again,” he orders, his thumb circling your hip through the thin material of your dress.

“B-But we just met, this isn’t right, we–” But he shushes you again by moving your hips for you. And his hands are so big, gripping you so tight as he moves you over his muscular leg, your cunt catching against the jean material again and making your whole body convulse. You automatically grab at his broad shoulders, feeling overwhelmed and confused yet horny and needy all at once.

Ari wouldn’t like this, your inner voice warns.

“I thought you took instructions well, baby doll.” Steve whispers enticingly in your ear, hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back as if to cajole you into doing what he wanted. “C’mon, move again like how I told you to.”

Your body obeys as if you’ve been wired to, and maybe it’s because you like listening to people or maybe it’s because you’re just plain horny. Either because of Ari’s damned ecstasy pill or because Steve is so handsome and hot and his body is so big and muscular and warm. Oh, you don’t know! But you do roll your hips down against his lap, eyes widening at how good it feels as you both gasp in unison.

“That’s a good girl,” Steve praises, giving you a sweet smile. And you’re so close to him, and he’s so handsome, and his lashes are so long and thick, his jaw so defined, his freckles so pretty…

“You’re so pretty!” You blurt out.

Steve snorts, “And you’re still so fucking drunk.”

“Wha–?”

“Nothing. Move again.” But this time he picks you up, repositioning you so that you’re face to face with him and straddling his crotch, and oh my! He was so hard, so, so hard! You could feel his dick poking through the denim, rubbing against your wet folds! What was even happening right now?! “Baby, this feels good huh? Moving against me like this?”

“Uh… y-yeah, I guess it does.” You answer shyly.

“Good. Then I won’t have to repeat myself after this one last time. Move. Again.” Quick as a wink, his hand leaves your hip, thick fingers curling around your throat instead. He speaks softly yet with authority and a hint of menace, blue eyes almost magically unblinking as he stares you down, “Rub your little baby cunt all over my jeans. You might as well, since you’ve already made a mess.”

SMACK.

You squeak before your jaw drops open. Had he just spanked you? Once more, you look to the driver in the front, but he seems to be determinedly ignoring whatever was going on in the backseat.

Almost as if he’d been paid to do so…

You start to move your hips, letting Steve guide you as you grind down on his clothed crotch. And fuck, it feels heavenly. Your poor clit is throbbing, so needy and desperate as you seek your pleasure, holding on to Steve’s sturdy shoulders.

“Fuck yeah, you’re such a cute little slut aren’t you?” Steve hums into your neck, his teeth grazing against your bare skin, “can’t believe a sweet little angel with a snatch as tight and sexy as yours landed right in my lap. Well, I stole you right from under Levinson’s nose, but that’s not important right now, is it?” He slaps your ass again, his other hand still wrapped around your neck. Not squeezing, just holding it, “Move harder, baby. I’m already letting you use me for your pleasure, so you better do as I say.”

“O-Okay, Stevie,” you pant, not really hearing what he’s saying because the delicious friction is too much for you to handle.

He nips at the nape of your neck, that now familiar glint in his eye, “Call me daddy, sweetheart.”

You gape at him. But you only ever called Ari daddy!

His fingers squeeze around your neck, making it exponentially harder for you to breathe. “Did you hear what I said?” He asks smoothly.

“Y-Yeah,” you barely get the word out.

“Then say it. Say it or I’ll choke you the fuck out.”

“Daddy!” You squeak as he loosens his grip, gulping for air, “D-Daddy, please!”

He smirks, leaning back against the seat as he watches you ride his crotch. You can’t stop now, it feels too good, too sexy. An yet it also almost feels like you’re doing something wrong, like you’re betraying Ari… Except you’re not, you’re not, you’re not! Because Ari already had a girlfriend and it wasn’t you!

“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you? Dry humping your little baby pussy on a guy you’ve just met?” Steve grabs the back of your neck and yanks you forward, till his plump pink lips ghost against yours, “You this slutty for all the frat boys, sweetie?”

You shake your head desperately, “N-No, promise I’m not! I’ve only ever been with one guy, ah!” Your poor pussy feels like it’s been rubbed raw, and yet you can’t stop. Your hips are both moving off their own accord, and Steve’s still moving your body lazily on top of his, the fat outline of his dick protruding through his jeans, a wet spot of your juices on top of his crotch. “W-Well, actually, now I’ve been with two, but–oh fuck!”

You whimper pathetically as Steve suddenly bites down on your neck, sucking against the sensitive skin till it breaks. He peppers the broken skin with kisses, and it hurts yet it feels so good. You find your hand slipping up to grab at his short hair, and instinctively you’d been expecting Ari’s long tufts because that was all you were used to. But all you can think about is Steve right now, and how good his huge body feels underneath you as you grind against it.

“And does it feel good, baby? Humping up against a stranger like you’re in heat?” He licks the shell of your ear lewdly, shivers running down your spine before he suddenly thrusts upwards, catching you off-guard. Your pussy clenches, lust pumping through your veins at his words. “Innocent little baby, only ever been with two guys and yet you’re dry humping me like you’re being paid to do it.”

He laughs wickedly, and how could he still look so angelic? The moonlight shines on his face through the window of the car, and one second he’s looking down at you mockingly, before his face morphs into one of lust and want, and he lets out a soft gasp as he grinds up against you. “Fuck, you’re doing so good, baby. Making daddy feel so fuckin’ good, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yeah, daddy, oh fuck, you feel so big,” you whimper with abandon.

Steve snorts, “I’m bigger than you could handle, sweet girl. Your cute little baby pussy would probably start crying if I tried to put my dick inside you right now.”

His dirty talk makes you moan, and you can feel yourself growing more excited. That’s when he starts to fondle you, his hands everywhere on your body, squeezing and rubbing your tits through the thin material of your dress. “God, you’re just a baby, aren’t you?”

“N-No,” you pant, only to earn another smack to your ass.

“Don’t fucking disagree with me,” he hisses, blue eyes blazing before his smirk returns, “You’re a little fuckin’ baby who’s known me all of two seconds and yet you’re horny for my daddy dick, aren’t you? I said, aren’t you?”

“Yes, okay?! Yes!” You cry out, your folds so insanely sensitive from rubbing and rubbing against him, and yet you’re so close. But was it just you, or had Steve’s demeanour changed. Back at the party, he was charming, funny, helpful. And now? Oh, he was still charming, and so devastatingly handsome. But there was a darkness to his angelic quality… Either that or you were imagining things.

“What if I pushed you down and made you ride my fuckin’ shoe instead?” He asks, that devilish glint ever-present in his blue eyes which were dark with lust, “You’d do it, wouldn’t you? You’d do anything to cum.”

“Daddy, ‘m so close!” you whine like a baby, clutching his shirt hard in case he did push you to the floor. You didn’t want that at all, and you blink up at him with wide eyes, “D-Don’t push me down, daddy, please! Promise I’ll be good an’ I’ll listen to you! Wanna stay in your lap, please!”

He blinks down at you, chiselled face softening some as he cups your face, his other hand still guiding you as you ride his thigh, “Fuck, you’re cute, aren’t you?”

But then his expression darkens once more, and he reaches down, grabbing the flimsy fabric of your dress. There’s a loud tearing sound and you gasp, jaw dropping as he rips the lower part of your dress clean in half. He smiles, “Keep going, baby. Daddy just wanted to see you better. And look at your baby pussy, look how cute and puffy she is. Bet you’re sore down there, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, but don’t wanna stop! So close!”

He runs his tongue over his plump lips, “I bet you are.”

Reaching down, he makes you gasp out loud when his fingers spread your sopping folds, and fuck, his jeans feel so fucking good now, so much better, so much rougher, oh god, oh god, oh god… And that’s when he takes complete control, grabbing your hips harder and moving you on top of him like you’re a doll. Like you’re his personal fucktoy, and he’s using you for his pleasure as he moves you back and forth on his dick, dragging you up and down on his clothed crotch while he whispers dirtily in your ear.

But it’s when he squeezes your throat again, that you feel your pussy clench doubly hard.

“You like that, huh? Like when daddy gets rough?” Steve chuckles darkly, before squeezing harder. Till he’s well and truly choking you, and you can feel your airway close up, and you well and truly can’t breathe, and it’s agony but it’s so delicious, and he’s dragging you all over his crotch, rutting up against you as you scramble on top of him, and you can’t breathe and you’re about to black out and, and, and…

You come hard, squirting all over his crotch which was already wet from your juices. And your cream keeps on pouring out, your orgasm hitting you so hard. And that’s when he releases your throat, like he’s given you the ability to breathe as a reward for cumming, and he rubs your back soothingly as you sob and squeak in pleasure, his voice all sweet once more, all dripping with honey as he caressed you, “you’re such a good girl, such a good fucking girl, you did so good, baby.”

The rest of the drive home is silent, you feeling fucked out in Steve’s lap, Steve looking smug, and the Uber driver staring straight ahead as if the debauchery that just took place in the backseat of his car had never even happened. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t believe what’s just happened but you’re too exhausted to truly care. All you want is your bed. And sleep.

“Sweetheart, I think we’re here. Is this your building?”

“It is,” you say hoarsely, suddenly feeling too shy to even meet his gaze. And there’s a part of you that feels guilty now that it’s all over, a part of you that keeps thinking about Ari and what he would think about all this. Fuck. You shake your head to clear out all those thoughts until tomorrow, “Thanks for giving me a lift home, Stevie.”

His lop-sided smile returns, almost as if the whole ordeal in the Uber had never even happened, “No worries, baby.”

He helps you out of the car, and your legs feel like complete jelly, but you’re thankful that you can stand upright. You feel a weight on your shoulders, suddenly noticing his varsity jacket is still on you. Blue and white, with his initials “S.G.R.” “Oh, your jacket, Stevie. Here–”

“You keep it.” He cuts you off, his eyes glittering with the reflection of the moon and stars as his lip curls upwards, “Keep it somewhere in your dorm room, somewhere where everyone can see, alright?”

“Okay.” You really don’t have it in you to question his weird request.

He walks you all the way to your dorm room like a perfect gentleman, waits while you rummage through your purse for your keys. Chuckles as he finds them for you and unlocks your door. Pats your ass as he pushes you inside.

But not before pressing a kiss on your cheek and murmuring a quiet, “I’ll see you soon enough, baby.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re alone. You put your phone on charge before immediately flopping down on your bed. Your aching muscles hum in satisfaction, and you feel instant relief as you kick your heels off and close your eyes. Your heart is racing – how had you gone from being a virgin at the beginning of the year to hooking up with two guys in the same night?!

Speaking of one of the guys, your phone begins vibrating the moment it gains its battery back, and you see a flood of texts and missed calls from Ari. And you think back to how you’d feel a small sense of satisfaction and a burst of happiness every time he texted you or called you in the past.

Now, you don’t even have the energy to open his messages. It could wait till tomorrow.

You close your eyes to sleep. And you dreamt of Ari, of course you did. You dreamt of Ari a lot. But there was someone else alongside the brunet in your dreams tonight. A blonde with a charming smile and glittering eyes, the moonlight bathing him like a halo.

But you weren’t so sure if he was an angel.

AFHJSAFA OKAY! SO. What do we think??? AND YES omfg of course the second love interest was Steve! Y'all know i'm a whore for Steve and for me, he's the only one who can believably compete against THE Ari Levinson!!! I can't wait to delve into this story!!! I hope you guys enjoyed! Feedback would mean the world to me!

(also i'm paranoid that there are mistakes and continuity errors even tho i sorta did reread it kind of but aksdfnldaskgal idk!!! i'm sure it's all fine tho)

I actually prepared some questions for yall just in case:

Is it too soon to ask if you're team Ari or team Steve?!?! BC I WANNA KNOWWW.

Do Ari and Steve know each other?!?! DO YOU THINK THEY HAVE HISTORY?!?!

Does Ari have feelings for reader?! What is Steve's deal?!!? IDK YALL JUST PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT, ANY GENERAL THOUGHTS AND FEEDBACK SDFKLSAFN OKAY BYE

donate to my ko-fi!

[steddielations]

“Evening, sir.”

It’s the Harrington boy. Again.

“I told you, son, it’s Wayne,” he manages a smile, harder to do these days, like chipping it out of cement and dusting it off. But he gets it done.

Steve doesn’t have the Henderson boy with him today, that’s a first.

“Where’s the curly one?” He steps aside, letting Steve into the trailer door, more rickety than before. No money left to fix it after repairing the bulk of the earthquake damage.

“Dustin? He doesn’t wanna watch the game, and trust me, you don’t wanna listen to that kid complaining the whole time,” Steve walks by, sorta chuckling to himself, “I always miss the replay ‘cause he makes me change the channel to those D&D cartoons during the commercials, just like—”

He stops in front of the couch, looking over his shoulder at Wayne like he’s afraid he messed up somehow. Wayne noticed that look often from him, less and less, but still often. All that confidence he carries can drop on a dime, sorta reminded him of—

“Like Ed?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“S’alright. I don’t mind talking about him if you want,” Wayne manages another concrete smile, but he means it. Steve always waits for him to bring up Eddie first, like he doesn’t want to remind him if it ain’t on his mind, but Wayne likes to be reminded. It’s nice to feel like he’s not the only one missing him. “But the game was yesterday and y’know the cable’s out.”

“Yep, got it covered. I uh, I taped it,” Steve fishes a VHS tape from his back pocket. Fancy. Wayne would worry about him using that for his sake, but he has a feeling Steve’s folks aren’t around enough to notice.

“The Colts win?”

Steve flips the tape around, “Haven’t watched it, so we can bet on it if you’re feeling lucky.”

It doesn’t feel so dry and heavy when Wayne laughs a bit then, waving Steve to go ahead and start up the TV. He already caught the game on the radio, but he bets on the Colts anyway. Loser’s supposed to do the dishes after they scrounge together some soup, but Steve does them anyway.

Wayne would make a stink about it but he can tell Steve just wants to help, to feel like he’s helping. Same thing when the Henderson boy comes around to see him, wanting to hear all the stories, even the scary ones. So Wayne doesn’t mind letting Eddie’s friends feel like they’re helping him.

His nephew didn’t have many friends. Real, cover-your-six kinda friends. The boys he played his music with, they’ve come by a couple times, Wayne always liked Jeff despite the racket. That older fella that’s doing time now, Wayne wasn’t too fond of. And some of Eddie’s dungeon buddies he talked about were the only few.

Now, casual acquaintances? Anybody who didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he had an empty spot at his table? Sure, Eddie had those in spades.

His boy was good at that, putting on a good old show for his crowd, on a stage to keep his distance. That damn Al did him in good, never could trust easily, having his old man pop up and drag him into his mess before he took off again. And Eddie’s poor momma would’ve done right by him, if she hadn’t gotten sick so young.

Took Wayne a long time to get Eddie to depend on him, to trust this was his place to stay and he didn’t have to earn it, Wayne wasn’t just filling his head to scheme something out of him.

Love ain’t a transaction that way. He wasn’t ever any good at saying it, but he tried to show Eddie the best he could.

His boy though, always carried a debt with him. Like he owed Wayne something for taking him in, had to graduate quick and make it outta here, do something with the better life he gave him. Al dug him in so deep, Eddie stayed roped into whatever his latest scheme was (the cars, the dealing, the gambling, thank God Eddie wasn’t there when the goddamn robbery went wrong, 25 to life) like maybe it’d be enough to keep him from running off again.

The odds have never been in favor of people like them, poor folk in a town that’s stuck in its ways, where everybody’s just like their old man, but Al made his choices and Wayne made his. Rest their mother’s soul, she did her best. Part of Wayne was relieved when Al got locked up, at least Wayne had a better chance of keeping Eddie from going down the same path, try to raise him right.

Being a Munson wasn’t a crime. He didn’t owe a darn thing to anybody. Eddie could graduate at his own pace, play whatever games and music he wanted, dress however, that didn’t mean he was up to no good. And a lot of boys get into dealing for a little easy extra money around here, he was gonna grow out of that just like Wayne did.

It worked until all this mess.

That’s why Eddie ran off after what happened to the poor Cunningham girl. He gets spooked when something goes wrong, like it’ll be the last straw he can’t make up for so he runs off. Like the first time he didn’t make senior year, went and hid out with that Rick fella that Wayne never did like, got Eddie deep into that business he tried to keep a secret.

‘Course Wayne knew. He knows exactly what and where his boy hides. If those damn cops weren’t tailing him, he would’ve gone straight to get him.

That was before he knew it would turn into all of this. Now he wishes he would’ve done it anyway. Gone right to Eddie, told him it wasn’t his fault that everything got all turned upside down. Told him he knew he was innocent right from the get-go, and got him away from this rotten old town.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t go get his boy.

So now he’s just trying to be there for Eddie’s boys, since he can’t.

“You have a night shift tonight right? Gonna put on a pot of coffee,” Steve says once he’s finished up the dishes.

Wayne hums. There’s usually more noise going on during these visits. Steve’s still alright at carrying on, even without the Henderson boy’s chatter to fill any gaps.

It was strange, the first time the two of them showed up. Wayne knew Eddie was close with Dustin, but he didn’t have a clue that he was chumming it up with the Harrington boy. Just don’t seem like the same type of company. He might not believe it if it weren’t so obvious that Steve cared about his boy. He suspected before, but now with Steve showing up here alone, he knows.

Steve misses Eddie in a different sorta way than Dustin.

“No cream or sugar, right?” Steve looks humored by that as he passes the mug of black coffee to him, “How are you related to Eddie again?”

Wayne’s mouth turns upward, remembering his nephew’s god awful sweet tooth. He picked up a box of Honeycombs the other day in the store out of habit. “Just happened to be standin’ there when they beamed him down.”

That gets a good chuckle out of Steve. Nothing wistful weighing it down and Wayne’s glad, watching Steve pour himself a cup of coffee too.

Then bitter-sweetness swirls in his chest, seeing the mug that Steve chose for himself. Must’ve dug it out from one of the boxes Wayne hadn’t hung back on the walls yet. The earthquake did a number on his collection. That Garfield one was the only one he’d gotten around to gluing back together.

“What is it?” Steve asks, cup paused at his mouth.

“Ah nothin’ just,” Wayne waves it off, “That’s the mug Ed always used.”

“Oh, I can use a diff—”

“Nah, nah go ‘head. It’s fine.”

Unconvinced, Steve takes a wary sip.

Mostly these days, Wayne just feels like a watch without a ticker, a chest with nothing beating inside it. He can’t name the feeling he has at seeing Eddie’s old mug being used by someone else, but at least it’s something.

“Y’know, he used to put everything in that sucker. Soda pop, soup, cereal, you name it,” Wayne shakes his head, mouth twitching into a smile, “I’d have to wrestle it away from him just to give it a good washing. It’s well loved, alright. Leaks now.”

As if on cue, Steve has to grab a napkin to sit underneath it.

Wayne lets out an amused hum, “He uh— Didn’t have much stability ‘fore he came to live with me, so he’d get real attached to things like that.”

Carried around a stuffed dragon they picked up at a garage sale ‘til Wayne couldn’t sew the wings back on anymore. Never wanted to throw anything away. Got real anxious about Wayne going to work sometimes, even when he was too old for a sitter. Held onto him saying “Stay home just today, Dad, please.” Which, he didn’t mind Eddie calling him that. It always softened him up, made him give in. Wishes now that he’d told Eddie upfront. Maybe he never would’ve stopped.

“Thought for sure he’d marry that damn guitar one day.”

Steve nearly sputters his coffee, laughing at that, “Yeah, those two are made for each other.”

It’s nice, seeing the way that story lit Steve up. Sorta like his boy can still make someone happy. Hurts like hell that he ain’t here to do it himself, but Wayne was always good at telling stories. That’s where Eddie learned it from.

“I’m uh,” Steve deflates after a minute, looking down at the mug, “God, I’m just really sorry, Wayne.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too, Steve,” he says, because, well.

Wayne gets the feeling that his boy was Steve’s boy too.

Read the rest on Ao3

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Milo(Lucian) X Reader: I see red

Watched Morbius and of course i went and fell for the villan

Warnings: Smut, blowjob, handjob, dirty talk, cum eating, face fucking, blood drinking(he is a vampire), insecurity.

Word Count: 2,1K

You’d always loved Milo. Even though you knew you didn’t have forever with him your heart couldn’t help but fall for the man. Milo hadn’t been handed the best cards, he wasn’t a lucky man but at least he had Morbius. Well he used to have Morbius. As the years had passed Milo and Morbius had grown apart. They were still good friends and Milo knew he could count on Morbius for anything but the more the doctor stayed at the lab the farther away it seemed their meetings would be. Milo blamed Martine for the distance. He wasn’t entirely wrong. The two doctors seemed to be growing more and more intimate as the days passed. You wondered if Martine had told Morbius about how she felt. It wasn't an easy task, you knew that all too well. 

Milo didn’t know about your love for him. You'd never talked to him about how you felt. There was never a good time for that type of conversation. When he wasn’t busy handling something for Morbius he was stuck in bed due to his sickness. Besides you weren’t certain he’d believe you anyway. Milo had this idea, a really stupid one, that he wasn’t attractive. Girls didn’t usually hit on him when he went out and he’d somehow linked that to his appearance.

“No one wants to be with a sick man.”

He’d blurted that out one night on your walk. You’d almost told him how you felt but the nerves had gotten the best of you. You didn't want him to think you pitied him because you didn't. You loved him like this and you’d love him even if he was different. Not that you’d ever expect him to change. Not in a drastic way anyway. 

You made your way through the hall going towards the kitchen. You placed the bags from the market on the counter as you called out Milo's name.

“They didn’t have burger patties so I had to settle for ground beef. Okay?”

No answer. You frowned at the silence, your eyes scanning the room for signs that Milo was home. Your gaze fell onto his cane on the floor. Milo couldn’t leave the house without his cane which meant he was here. But where exactly was he? 

You heard a thumping sound above you, leaning your head back to look at the ceiling. The sound was coming from Milo's room. You walked over to the elevator pushing the button to the second floor.  You tapped your foot against the metal floor, fingers moving on your thighs as you waited for the doors to open. The second they did the sound of music became louder. You moved towards Milos' room knocking at the door before entering. Light streamed into the bedroom from the closet. What in the world was he doing? 

“Milo what’s with the….”

Your body froze at the closet door, eyes widening at the sight before you. You watched Milo dance around with his eyes closed. Your eyes scanned his body, curiosity filling your mind as you realized the way Milo looked. He looked healthy. Truly healthy. Not “on a good day” sort of healthy. Running a marathon kind of healthy. Where did all those muscles come from? 

Milo opened his eyes to look at himself in the mirror but instead his gaze fell on your reflection. Your mouth was slightly parted and there was this unusual look in your eyes. He felt an urge to cover his body, his subconscious telling him to hide himself from you. But then he caught the way your eyes moved over his body. You liked it. You liked the way he looked. The moment he realized that his chest puffed up drawing more attention to his chiseled body and causing your breath to speed up. Milo called out your name, moving slowly towards you. You watched him make his way to you with ease.

“Milo your leg.”

“Neat isn't it?”

He gave a small spin stopping a few steps away from you. Your eyes raked over his body, stopping on the smirk on his face.

“What’s wrong darling? Don’t like my new look?”

“I always liked the way you look.”

The words tumbled out of your lips before you could stop them causing you to place a hand over your mouth as Milo’s eyebrows quirked up.

“Is that so?”

The truth is Milo had always felt something for you but he never acted on it. He never thought you saw him as anything other than the sick teeanger you’d met years ago. But now, watching the way your breath sped up the closer he got to you and the way your tongue peaked out to wet your lips every once in a while, he could tell he’d been wrong. 

“How is this possible? I mean how did you-”

“Shh darling.”

Milo placed a hand on your cheek moving some stray hairs behind your years. 

“How doesn't matter now. The “what”  is far more important?”

“What do you mean?”

“I haven't felt this strong…well…ever. So I'm curious as to what I can do. If you know what I mean.”

You swallowed dry as Milo leaned his face closer to you, his lips almost touching yours.

“And I was wondering….”

“Yeah?”

“If you wanted to help me find out?”

“Fuck yes.”

You wrapped your arms around Milos neck pulling him down into a passionate kiss. His hands snaked down your body settling on your ass with a harsh squeeze. You groaned into his mouth, your legs moving up to wrap themselves around Milos waist. He tugged you up with ease. Your hips brushed against his hard on causing him to let out a moan. 

“Where do you want me to fuck you darling here or in my bed?”

“Bed please.”

“Such a polite thing ei?”

Milo kicked open the doors making his way to his bed. You let out a small gasp when he threw you on the bed, the mattress bouncing slightly.  You pushed yourself onto your elbows watching as Milo moved to unbuckle his pants.

“Let me.”

The man glanced down at you with a grin which you returned. You shuffled yourself to the edge of the bed accepting Milos extended hand. Once you’d gotten to your feet you moved out of the way forcing Milo to turn around and take your place. He followed your directions, taking a seat at the edge of the bed and spreading his legs slightly. You got on your knees before him, your hands working on his belt. You reached into his pants cupping his dick in your hand for a moment before pulling down his underwear. His dick sprung up and you drooled at the sight. Milos slender frame had given you the impression he would have a slim cock but you had been wrong. His dick was thick and long. You glanced up at Milo being greeted with a worried look. 

“Milo, I can't believe you’ve been hiding this beauty from me.”

“You like it? It’s not too-uh-small or anything.”

You let out a laugh. Bless this man.

“It’s perfect.”

Before Milo could retaliate you wrapped your mouth around his dick. Milo’s hands went straight to your head gripping your hair to ground himself. 

“Ah fuck-ugh-good fucking girl…shit.”

“That good huh?”

“Don’t know how long I've wanted you darling.”

“Yeah? Should have told me. I’ve been touching myself to the thought of you for the past four years.”

“Good lord-ugh!”

You opened your mouth as much as you could, taking Milos dick as deep as possible as you told your tongue around his shaft.

“I wanted to-uhm-fuck you at that-fuck-stupid benefit party.”

You’d never taken Milo for a talker during sex but you didn't mind it. You hummed around his dick signalling to him you were listening and causing him to buck his hips.

“You wore that fucking black dress…ah ugh…could see every fucking curve.”

You remembered the dress he was talking about.  You still had it in your closet. You’d have to remember to wear it again. You removed your lips from Milos dick replacing them with your hands.

“If you’d told me I would have let you. There was a wonderful little counter in the bathroom we could have used.”

“Dirty girl.”

“Like you’re any better.”

“Oh you have no idea.”

There was a sombre tone in Milo's voice but you chose to ignore it. Your hands moved faster against Milos dick making him moans grow louder. You could tell he was close to cumming so you decided to take him in your mouth once again. After one particular suck Milo called out your name and you felt his seed spilling down your throat. You removed your lips from his dick swallowing before sticking your tongue out proudly to show Milo what you did.

“You’re going to be the death of me darling.” 

He wiped the spit from the corner of your mouth before leaning down to capture your lips in his.

“You turn, pretty girl.”

You and Milo had been going at it for hours. His stamina seemed to be everlasting. Your hands latch onto Milos back as he thrusts into you, his arms caging you beneath his body. He's going at a brutal speed, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as your body prepares for another orgasm. You are so close but before you reach your high Milos thrusts start to sputter. You open your eyes to look at him expecting him to look at you with a teasing grin or a cocky smirk but he doesn’t. In fact his eyes don’t meet yours.

“Milo?”

“Shit…i”

“What is it?”

“Darling i…fuck not now.”

“Milo what is it? Talk to me.”

Milo raises his head to look at you and you're startled by the way he looks. The healthy glow he’s had up until now is completely gone. He looks like he usually does: pale and tired.You can feel Milos leg shaking next to yours. 

“I need i…”

“Tell me. Lucian, tell me what you need dear.”

“Blood.”

“What?”

“I need blood.”

You thought you’d heard him wrong but the way his face twisted when he repeated the word shows you you’d understood correctly. You should have freaked out. That would have been the correct response. But when it came to Milo you never seemed to have a clear head. Milo's leg gave out beneath him causing his body to fall into you, his lips touching your neck. You felt him open his mouth, his tongue lapping over your vein before closing it abruptly

“No. Not her.”

“Lucian…”

“It’s okay, I would never hurt you.”

“I know.”

You stayed silent for a movement trying to make up your mind.

“Take mine.”

“What?”

“My blood. Take my blood.”

Milo's body begged him to listen to you but his mind stopped him from taking action. If he lost control he’d suck you dry and he couldn’t deal with that risk. Not when you meant so much to him.

“I’m not in control i could hurt-

“No you won’t. You never would.”

Milo raised his head to look into your eyes seeing the certainty in them. You trusted him. You truly did.

“Take what you need. It’s alright. I’ll be fine.”

Milo hesitated for a moment before leaning down so that his mouth was on your neck. He could hear your heart beating and could feel every twinge of your muscles. Your perfume was strong against his nostrils but the smell went away as soon as his teeth pierced into your skin. You let out a yelp, your nails latching onto Milo’s back as he sucked your neck. You could feel the blood leaving your body, the feeling making you dizzy. 

Your blood was the best thing Milo had tasted in his entire life. It tasted exactly like he imagined you would: sweet and silky. He lost himself in the pleasure, his hips rutting against you as his strength returned to him. You called out his name forcing him to detach himself from your neck. This time when your eyes fell onto his face the healthy glow was present once again. Your neck felt tender and your body had gone slightly limp but you forgot all about it once Milo started thrusting against you at a brutal pace once more. Your toes curled and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You came with a shout of Milo's name. He followed short after, spilling his seed into your cunt.

You knew something wasn’t right, normal people don’t drink blood and get strong. But that was a problem for later. Right now you had to focus on getting your body to come back to earth.

[unformula1]

sun and earth (LS2 x reader)

sun and earth (LS2 x reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ synopsis: you love him. he can’t love you back. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ pairing: logan sargeant x reader w/c: 1077 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ a/n: kinda poorly written but i hope it still makes you cry!! i'll edit it soon. sorry for lack of fics, i've been sick (very). masterlist(read more) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You love Logan. You definitely do.

“You’re such a dickhead.” Logan says as he punches your shoulder gently, but hard enough to cause you to stumble.

“I’ve got a very strong point there!” You regain your balance and punch him back.

“I do not… look like a cat.” He says, his smile growing as he does so.

“You’re literally doing it right now.” 

“I am not.”

“You definitely are. Look at yourself.” You shift to the side so Logan can see himself through the glass panel.

“Okay… well I don’t see it.” Logan crosses his arms, making his chest bulge in a way you would never get over.

“Well…” You stutter slightly, keeping your eye on his chest.

“Well?” He questions, causing you to snap out of your staring.

“I’ll put them side by side, then maybe you’ll see!” You quickly regain your composure.

He scoffs and ruffles your hair which sends a weird chill down your spine, you shiver slightly.

“You know, I think you’re like… the sun in my life.” Logan stuffed his hands into his pockets as he says.

“What a weird analogy.” You comment, scoffing as you do so.

“Shut up. I’m trying to compliment you.” He says, rolling his eyes and punching you on the shoulder.

“Fine. If I’m the sun,” You drag the last word, “Then you are the Earth!”

He raises an eyebrow and gives you a blank stare that screams ‘I don’t know what you just said’.

“You’re pretty, and gorgeous, or something like that.” You say, trying to sound as nonchalant as you can.

“Aw…” He drags the aw and scrunches up his face.

It’s adorable, you’ve never seen anything like it and you don’t think you will. Logan makes your heart flutter in ways you never knew could ever happen. Before him it was always you in charge, but somehow, someway, Logan changed everything.

All of a sudden you were killing to get him to look in your direction and nothing meant more than him smiling at you. You knew you liked him but did he like you back? You didn’t know and you weren’t willing to take any chances.

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

“Hello?” Logan’s voice comes from across the phone when he finally picks up your call.

“Hi.” You say back, loud music blasting in the background.

“What’s up?” He asks you, concern rising in his voice.

“I need… uhm… a ride back home.” You reply.

“Send me your location, I’ll be there in 10.” He says.

“Thanks Logs.” You say as you hang up and send over your live location. 

You clutch your phone tightly as you wait outside the door. The party had gotten hectic and chaotic within minutes and you don’t think you have the energy to deal with all of that.

Leaning against the wall, you wait patiently for Logan to come over. 

It takes him about 20 minutes to get here, which felt like forever, but when he pulls up, you waste no time before getting in the car and slamming the door shut. You take a huge sigh of relief as you lean back into the chair.

“Jeez, was it that bad?” He says, driving off.

“Horrible I say.” You sigh loudly as you buckle your seatbelt, “Thanks… for coming to get me.”

“No problem. Sorry I was a little late.”

“Don’t worry, you were- like the 50th person I called.” You admit, leaning back further into the comfort of the chair.

“Really?” He says with a tint of confusion.

“Yea, no one else was free.”

“Damn… glad I could help you out.”

“You’re an amazing friend. Sometimes you feel like my boyfriend.”

What.

What did you just say?

The words that escaped your mouth finally process and your eyes widen as you pray hard Logan doesn’t react too much about the words. 

“What?” He says with a chuckle.

“Nothing.”

“Boyfriend?” He teases, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

It’s hot, unbearably so, but you push the blush that wants to surface back down. You take a deep breath and try to quickly diffuse the situation.

“Yea, because you’re- like really close and really protective and all that,” You start rambling, “Not because of- like, romantic or anything, you know?” 

“Mhm…” He says, clearly suspicious.

The next few minutes are awkward, the tension could be sliced with a knife.

“Do you… want me to be anything more than a friend?” Logan breaks the silence.

You shuffle your feet and fiddle with your seatbelt. You know your answer, and you’re pretty sure he does too.

You clear your throat.

“Right…” Logan responds, turning the corner, getting onto the street your apartment was on.

“You know…I have to make quite a lot of sacrifices to be where I am and to maintain that.” He starts.

“Yes, of course, and I don’t want to get in the way of that.” You desperately hope this doesn’t go south.

“And you know how it’s sometimes really hard to make those sacrifices.” He continues.

It’s starting to become draggy.

“Well, I hope you understand, that you and I being friends… is going to have to be one of those. Those hard sacrifices.” Logan says, his tone growing solemn.

“Right… you can’t exactly… be something with me because of… things.” You reply, shuffling your feet more.

“I love you.” Logan says as he pulls up to your apartment.

“But sometimes, I can’t love the people I want to.”

You nod, the tears fighting their way out, streaming down your cheek. You look down, hiding the tears from Logan as he stops to let you exit the car.

“I’m sorry…” Logan says. He doesn’t strike any eye contact and his face is gloomy. He hates that he has to do this and you know that.

“It’s…” You say between the sobs, “Yea no, It’s fine.” 

You don’t make any eye contact as you exit the car. The tears become real and you try your best to wipe them away as you walk into your apartment. Once you’re in the safety of your house you break down. Falling to your knees, you drop everything else and just cry.

It hurts you knowing you could never have Logan.

The Sun and the Earth. The Earth needs the sun for its life, but if it gets too close, it burns; so whether they like it or not, they’ll remain the same distance apart for their entire lives, never being too close to each other.

[sadiestarrs]

It Always Resurfaces

Warnings: just a bit of swearing, use of y/n like twice, mentions of drinking, mentions of sex, hurt no comfort

A/N: tried to redeem myself after that other ellie fix because i absolutely hate it anyways this is probably gonna be a series

Plot: you found ellie cheating at a party and a month later you see her again

Word count: 1,700

Part one??

be with whoever you want

i don’t care, i don’t care

The blaring lights of the party you were at made your head start to hurt. Not to mention all the people crowding around, the heat from the dozens of bodies moving across the room.

Ellie had said she was going to get a drink, 15 minutes ago. She must have gotten lost because it couldn’t have taken that long.

You awkwardly stumble in between all the people, making your way to the kitchen. It was less busy but there were still groups of friends standing around. A bad feeling already settled down in your stomach, almost as if your gut was telling you to turn around and leave immediately.

Just as you step in, you see Ellie standing with a girl, a smile plastered on her face. Their conversation is muffled but you make out most of it.

“I mean, I was just looking for a drink but I think I found something better.”

She places a hand on the girl’s waist, pulling her closer. They stare at each other for a while, everything pausing.

She wouldn’t.

The girl reaches upwards, wrapping her arms around Ellie’s neck and kissing her, you nearly fall backwards, the weight of the world seeming to crush you.

You have to stop yourself from letting out a gut-wrenching sob, deep in your soul. How could she? What the fuck happened in fifteen minutes to make her forget about you so quickly?

Before you realise what you’re doing, you find yourself walking out of the party, trying to get away from everything. It was the middle of August but somehow you were so cold, desperately trying to calm yourself down.

You called an Uber, not bothering to leave a message about why you were leaving. Out of all of the things Ellie could do, cheating on you was the last thing you could’ve thought.

She couldn’t even be bothered to hide it, blatantly kissing someone in the middle of a party you were at. It all seemed fake. You just willed yourself to wake up and find out that this was just some sick joke.

No matter what you did, the scene played through in your mind, a never-ending loop.

I think I found something better.

~

It had been four weeks since the party. The first few days went quickly, you didn’t think of her much, mainly at night when it was colder and lonely. But like many things, you had to push through it. You couldn’t let her dictate everything in your life.

After a week you started to think more. How long would it be until you talked again? No, you couldn’t fail so easily. You had to show restraint.

Evenings had become the worst time, being alone with just your thoughts and a very depressing music taste with only songs about being heartbroken and left behind. Not even your favourite shows could distract you. Everything reminded you of her, every shade of green like her eyes, sarcastic jokes making you remember the same ones she made.

Ellie wasn’t holding up well either, going to any and every party she was invited to in hopes of seeing you but ultimately being disappointed when you didn’t show up and ending the night with a temporary fling, trying to fill the hole you left. Nothing worked. It was only until her friends reminded her that you had left that she realised.

They explained to her that you had seen them and that you needed a break.

It became useless to leave her apartment anymore. She didn’t eat, didn’t sleep. Not that she wanted to. She was just—there.

Dina had noticed Ellie’s lack of enthusiasm and started dragging her outside whenever she could, making sure that she was taking care of herself and being healthy. Other than you, Dina was the only person who took an interest in Ellie and eventually they saw eye-to-eye. It was gradual but the feelings were mutual, both of them having similar interests.

You started seeing other people too, none of them making you feel the same way, however. It was enough to rely on but you weren’t committed. Maybe some of Ellie’s traits were rubbing off of you.

“You okay?”

You’re caught off guard by the person accompanying you. She was a sufficient person, kind, and caring, but she cared a little too much.

It really didn’t make sense how you were annoyed at her checking up on you but cried when Ellie would leave for days at a time. Hell, you had even forgotten her name.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” You pick up a pack of grapes instinctively without realising that Ellie was the one who ate them when you bought them.

“Are you sure? You’ve been acting weird all day.” She comes up to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m fine,” you snap, leaving the basket and walking to another aisle.

Did she deserve that? No, not at all but a month had been the longest you’ve gone without seeing Ellie. Before that, it was 3 days, mainly because the urge to fuck someone became too annoying to ignore.

You angrily walk up and down the dairy aisle, thinking about everything. Did she not want you anymore? Surely a month was enough time to heal and forget everything? If you guys were going to get back together it would have happened a while ago. Maybe this was it?

As if she knew you were thinking about her, she turns down the aisle, stopping when she sees you. You can see her contemplate whether or not turning around would be a good idea but she takes a deep breath, inching closer.

She looked the same, her shoulders slightly slumped when she came towards you. What did she have to say now?

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

That was it. After a month of not seeing each other that’s all you had to say.

“How are you?” She asks, breaking the silence and sticking her hands in the pockets of her hoodie.

“I’m good, you?”

She just nods, “I’m fine as well.”

You both stand awkwardly, the freezing temperature of the fridges finally hitting you. Another person walks behind El.

“I was thinking about making pasta tonight. How does that sound?”

Ellie looks up at you before turning back, “That sounds great, um, this is y/n, Dina.”

Dina? Did she find someone else so quickly? How could she do that? It wasn’t even the girl at the party.

“Oh cool, how’d you know Ellie?”

“We were friends a while ago,” you say, holding your arms to your chest, withholding the truth. It was clearly not a good idea to spill all the messy details of your semi-relationship.

You say goodbye and walk away as fast as you could, tears trying to force out of your eyes. God, you were so stupid. Of course, she found someone else. Did you expect her to wait years? It was over now.

You wanted to feel relieved, happy that you could move on now but all you felt was pain, deep down in your soul, past your heart.

“I’m outside.”

You walk past your “partner”, telling her that you would wait in the parking lot, away from anyone. It was all too much. How could everything change in a matter of seconds like that?

Sitting on the edge of the pavement, you think about the first time you met Ellie. It was a party, one of your friend’s birthdays or something. She spotted you by yourself, standing in a corner after you caught your girlfriend cheating, again. It didn’t take much for you to go back to her apartment and spend the night and eventually, it became regular.

It was almost funny how you got cheated on twice, like history repeating itself. When it happened the first time you promised yourself that it wouldn't happen again but you got played.

Ellie didn’t make it feel meaningless, she cared. But she never showed it, the most affection she displayed was kissing your neck or hand and that was it.

When she walks out of the grocery store you see her place a hand on Dina’s face, bringing her lips close and actually kissing her. Properly. It nearly made you sob. The way she closed her eyes and helped with bags. Why couldn’t she do that with you?

They walk up to their car before El looks back at you and tells Dina to wait. Walking considerably slowly, she stands in front of you.

“So, what are you doing now?”

“It’s only been a month, El, nothing has changed.”

She sits down, still keeping a few inches between the two of you. “You don’t look okay.”

“How can you tell? You were never around to care about me.”

Humming in agreement, she sighs, going silent for a while. The silence isn’t comforting or uneasy, it was just silence. No one said anything. After about three minutes, she stands up again, not looking at you.

“I hope you know that I didn’t mean for it to end like that.”

You nod, trying to get her to make eye contact but it doesn’t happen. She didn’t mean for it to end like that. It? So she was aware of the way things ended but chose to say nothing.

You couldn’t stand even if you wanted to, it hurt too much. From their car you see Dina point towards you and Ellie shakes her head. She then responds by basically making out with her, basically having a front-row view, seeing everything through the windshield.

“Hey, I was looking for you, are you sure you’re okay?” The girl you were with comes out, holding a few bags.

“It’s over, I can’t even remember your fucking name let alone why I even agreed to be with you.”

You walk off before you can see her reaction. It felt bad, of course, but it was true.

Ellie remembered drinking herself to sleep when you weren’t there. The drowning in her chest, the look on your face when you closed the door after getting your stuff from her apartment, tattooed on her eyelids, a constant reminder of the hurt she caused.

[chososheart]

Trainwreck - Eren Jaeger (9)

Chapter seven: Third Time’s a Charm?

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Reader

Series summary: Reader is an 18-year-old, high school student. On her way to school one day, she meets a boy on the train. Will their train, wreck or will they somehow make it work?

Info on Reader: Reader is a logical person. She’s organized and tidy. She uses logic and common sense when she makes choices. Some events in her life and some people in her life will cause her to question her sanity as she no longer can differentiate if she’s using her heart or brain.

Info on Eren Jaeger in this book: Eren doesn’t think. He uses his heart to express himself. If he feels like something is wrong, he will act on those feelings. He’s very emotional and speaks his mind. There haven’t been many times when Eren felt regret after acting on his emotions; until he met you.

Content: High school! Au, Eren x Reader, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, eventual smut.

word count: 6.2k

CW: alcohol consumption, suggestive content.

see masterlist | navigation | read previous chapter | read next chapter

You like to think back to that moment. Replay it in your head as if it were a record player, but one of those old record players. The ones that get jammed and replay the same tune over and over again. It was ridiculous. You felt pathetic. It was as if you had never had a romantic interaction with a boy. All he did was hand you a sweatshirt because you were cold. Many others have probably done that to you; why is it only a big deal now?

That's the thing about Eren, that's the thing that terrifies you the most about him. You feel like a kid. You feel nervous looking at him and making eye contact, hot and sweaty after your skin accidentally touches his. It's twice as intense as that first crush everyone remembers, that first love everyone carries with them. God, you can't even remember your first love's name! Eren makes you question the feeling in your chest. He makes you feel like this is the first time you've ever fallen, and it's treacherous; it haunts you. You feel unsure of when to move or step forward and when to proceed and advance. So you don't. You simply stand still.

A raindrop quickly slides down the window you lay your head against.

It has been a few weeks since Eren invited you to Historia's beach house. You finished the first semester of your senior year. The thought of how fast the year has gone by makes your head spin. You can't believe this time next year, you'll be in college, probably stressing about your grades and coming back home for Christmas.

I wonder if Eren and I will still be together.

You tightly close your eyes and squeeze that thought away. It isn't important.

You hear the girls in the car blabber and sing along to whatever song is jammed on the radio, well, glitching because the music they downloaded illegally isn't working, shocker! You don't know whose it was; you have kept your eyes focused on the cloudy weather outside for the past few hours. You feel a bit sick, but you are not sure what you can blame it on, the car or your disgustingly sweet thoughts of Eren.

You've never been the obsessive type and have never felt sick to your stomach over not having someone. Frankly, you've spent most of your teen years away from boys because all they bring is drama and pain. You don't know what's remotely different about Eren from every other boy you've met before, but it works; God, how it works in his favor. You feel miserable at times. You feel as if this is all in your head. What if this is entirely one-sided? What if he's perfectly fine and doesn't care about you and the potential relationship you've built in your head?

Ugh.

The closer you get there, the lower down your stomach falls. With every meter passing by, the tingle on your fingertips grows more feeble, unstable. It worries you, really. How bad have you gotten that even the anxious feelings within you have become unpredictable?

You were up all night, for your excitement forbade you from peace. All you were able to get were a few measly hours. A haze so painful encircled your head that the rocking from it resting against the window surprisingly soothed you; your eyelids fell heavy. Your head felt stuck as if you had just crashed after allowing yourself to indulge in a much too-sweet pastry—your brain, finally ready to admit defeat and slow down. You don't fight it off; you allow your body and mind to rest.

"Hey, c'mon! Wake up. We're here!" Historia shakes you awake.

It's brighter now than it was before. It's still cloudy, of course, but the sun has managed to shine through. You still feel the heaviness you did this morning, but it is now evenly spread throughout your body instead of residing only in your heart and mind. With a quick stretch, you're out the door.

Historia lives in a house on the top of a small hill, not that close to the sea, but close enough to walk there. Her home is average-sized, actually. The stairs are a bit tight, but the main room is large, with two queen-sized beds.

Is he here already?

Historia noticed your hesitant look. "The boys will sleep in the small bedroom downstairs, a bunch of bunk beds." She scrunched her nose and smiled.

"Oh, okay." You smile back.

"Who are you sleeping with?" Historia says, dragging her suitcase through the door. "Me? Or stinky Sasha?"

Sasha sets her bags down next to the bed closest to the window. "Hey!"

You laugh, "Can we join the beds? I'll sleep in the middle."

Historia thinks for a second. "Yeah, sure."

After moving the beds and putting your clothes away, you go downstairs. If you had to describe how you felt in one word, it's lagged, even though you haven't been on an airplane this evening. The car ride didn't mix well with you.

You go down each step, tightly holding on to the railing. Not only were the stairs on the smaller side, but they were also circular; the steps were short. When you get to the kitchen, you stop in your tracks.

Eren.

There he stood, surrounded by a black kitchen counter and island. The cabinets and drawers were tinted a dark brown. He turns and catches your eyes in his. He looks away briefly, only to meet your eyes with his yet again.

"Hey," you say, approaching him.

"Hey." He turns back around, a soft smile on his face.

"Why are you hogging the blender?"

"Ha. Ha." He shakes his head. "I'm making a banana smoothie." He faces you. "Want some?"

You smile. "Sure, what's in it?"

"Banana and almond milk."

"Okay, skinny."

Eren laughed and pushed you slightly with his elbow. "It's how my mum made it for me growing up."

"No protein powder?"

"Don't think Carla Jaeger was on the bulk grind, so no."

"I mean," you jump and sit on the counter, "maybe not with you, but definitely with Mikasa. I bet she's been strong all her life."

"Yeah, except she's adopted."

You roll your eyes with a laugh. "Okay, sue me for not making assumptions."

"She's wasian, bro, c'mon." He unpeels a banana and throws it in the blender.

"Yeah, and so was Miranda Croscove, according to the masses."

"No, you're just dumb. Pass the almond milk."

You pass him the tall container next to the sink and continue looking at him. "Bet the 'you're adopted jokes' went crazy, huh?"

"No, because I'm a decent human being, weirdo." He pours the milk into the blender and hits start.

You punch his arm. "Hey!"

He points to his ear, signaling he can't hear you from the blender's noise, and laughs.

"Asshole."

He gapes at you.

"Oh, so that you hear?" You laugh and hop off the counter. You playfully push him.

"You punch like that bitchboy Jean," he screams and runs away.

That's like the worst insult.

You chase him around the kitchen island as he covers the arm you keep hitting. It hurts, but he won't give you the satisfaction.

Then the blender stops by itself, and he turns and grabs both your arms by the wrists. "Hey, we're even, we're even." He pants, and suddenly, you realize how much you wish he was on top of you.

Eren is wearing a casual grey shirt and sweats, the same as you, but a different color scheme distances your choices. You fight off the flush that burned the back of your neck. You snatch your arms away from him and sit on the counter again.

"But, yeah, Mikasa was better than me in everything regarding physical shit, so I resorted to psychological torture."

"You're so evil, my God.”

"Hey, I had to survive. Armin was the mediator and fixed it before she told on me, so it's okay."

"Evil. Pass me a cup." You feel a slightly cooled air swimming deep in your stomach. It isn't too noticeable, not in a way that would paralyze you, but it is there, in the back of your mind, acknowledged.

"Say pretty please." He teased, which only made you smile.

"God, you are so corny."

"Say it." He had an empty cup in his hand, which he held back while looking into your eyes. Smile lines and joy reached his eyes despite his smile being faint.

"Pretty please," you say, annoyance staining your voice but not your face.

He places two cups on the counter and pours the drink into them.

You take a sip. "Okay, it's good."

"Told you. What'd you come in here for?" He takes a bigger gulp.

"Oh, right. I wanted lime."

He stops drinking and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, "Lime?"

"Yeah, I got car sick."

"You look fine to me." He had an arrogant expression on his face, as always.

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, but I still want it."

Since Eren is standing before you, you try to move him away with your hands so you can hop off the counter, but he stops you.

"I'll get it." he goes to the fruit cart next to the balcony door and grabs you a lime. He cuts it and gives you a half. "Smell it."

"The lime?"

"Yeah, it helps."

You do as he says and feel some tension lift away. He grabs you a plate and pours some salt into it. "It's better to have it like this."

You scrunch your nose, "I was going to squeeze it in a cup and shot it."

"Do this first. If you're still ill, do it your way."

"Fine." You put some salt on the lime and suck it. Eren looked at you attentively, waiting for you to scrunch your face once the sour taste kicked in, but you didn't.

"Why aren't you making a funny face?" He frowned.

"Oh," you laugh. "I used to have a lime obsession when I was little."

"What do you mean? Like you'd straight up have them like this?"

"Yes. I'd always forget to put the peel away. I left a trail wherever I went."

Eren scrunches his face. "Oh, that's nasty."

"Yeah, but it was physical proof of my love for limes."

Jean walks in. He ignores you and Eren in the kitchen and goes to the sliding doors surrounding the entire kitchen/breakfast table area. He looks at the rays that had snuck through the mound of clouds covering the sky.

"Have you guys seen the weather?" he says, approaching you.

Eren furrows his brows. "Don't talk about the weather."

"Shut up." He looks at you and says, "It's nice, isn't it?"

"Mmm, I hadn't noticed yet; Eren was forcing me to drink his mummy's banana juice."

Jean looks at Eren with disgust. "Ew, why?"

"That's not what you were saying before Jean showed up, though," Eren said, turning his back to you. He picked up the blender and put it in the sink.

You hide your smile and look at Jean. "I don't know. He's so weird, right?"

"Right."

"Okay, okay." Eren took the small plate with lime he had given you before and put it in the sink, along with the other dirty dishes. "Keep talking, and I won't let you ride on my motorbike."

Jean grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl in the island's center. "What motorbike?"

"The bike that I keep here?"

"The pink one?" Jean smiled.

Eren shoved Jean. "No, idiot, the green one."

"It's not yours, though." Jean took a bite from his apple, attempting to hide a smile.

"It is."

You silently watched them argue, your pupils jumping from each boy like a ping-pong ball every time one answered.

Jean turns to you and says, "The bike he's claiming is only his when Dirk isn't around."

"And what about it? Where's your bike?" Eren says.

"Who's Dirk?" you say.

"Historia's little brother," says Jean.

Eren answers, "Older, dumbass," as he washes the dishes he placed in the sink, never once directing his attention towards the other boy.

Jean takes another bite from his apple and says, with a full mouth, "Stop riding his meat, Jaeger." He pauses to swallow and then states with a clear voice, "It's weird."

Eren stopped scrubbing the plate he held, turned the water off, and said, "How!?"

"How to stop? I don't know, man; ask someone else."

You laugh with Jean and watch Eren angrily continue washing the accumulated dishes.

"Hey, don't get mad," you say, getting off the counter and bumping him with your elbow.

"I'm not mad; I'm just tired from looking at his horse face," he said, ending the sentence while looking at Jean and emphasizing the word 'horse.'

"Overused joke; come up with something else," said Jean. He then looked at you and said. "Plus, Historia's got like a bajillion other siblings you can borrow shit from."

"Yeah, but did you get their permission, though?" Eren said as he passed the rinsed dishes into the drying rack.

"Okay, I'm leaving. Jaeger's pissing me off. We're going to the beach in twenty, so be ready," Jean said, leaving you two alone.

As soon as he left, Eren started laughing.

"You pissed him off, stop laughing," you say, giggling yourself.

"He's so easy to piss off. It's funny."

"You're evil. I'm leaving you and your empty soul. Make sure to scrub those dishes real well!!" You run away before he can say anything back.

You go to your room and see Sasha slipping on a sundress over her bathing suit. She has a gorgeous green bikini that compliments her eyes. Her hair is in a messy pony, and she has a bag ready on her bed.

She notices your presence in the room and says, "Stop staring, freak."

"Oh, you wish." You scoff. "I'm just enjoying the peace; Jean and Eren have yet to discover the concept of an 'inside voice.'"

She laughs. "Don't even get me started on those two; they're so close and fight all the time but don't like admitting to it."

"Yeah, like brothers," you say.

"No, I'd say more like an old couple."

You laugh. "Why?"

"I don't know. They remind me of my grandparents. It's sweet if you think about it."

"I'd rather not, Sasha." You walk to your bed, grab your suitcase, and plop it on your bed. "So, what's the plan?"

"For today?"

"Sure."

"Beach day!" Sasha says, dragging out the 'ay'

"Yes, but what do we do there? Sure, the weather's miraculously 'nice' right now, but I'm sure it won't last long."

"I guess we'll just have to find out." You hear her bag's zipper close and see her head towards the door. "Don't take too long." She points at you and walks out the door.

You roll your eyes and take out your beach bag from your suitcase.

Thud, thud, thud…

You hear as you take your last few steps down the stairs. Before you reach the wooden floor of the living room. You look to your left, where you hear loud voices, and see your friends, along with Yasmin, Mikasa, and Armin, whom you had yet to see. They're at the door, being greeted by everyone.

You walk towards them to say hello and catch up for a bit. There are about nine people at the entrance of the house. Sasha and Connie are bickering; Jean is talking over them; Historia and Yasmin are trying to hear themselves by matching the volume of the room, and Mikasa is staring, waiting for it to go away. Armin waits awkwardly for silence with a shy smile. You'd think it'd be impossible for your thoughts to work during the tumultuous ambient your friends have created, yet you're proven wrong.

You can think, and you do, about Eren and how he's missing.

You sigh and quickly scan the room. Why's he always disappearing?

You left the crowd and walked forward, and you saw him. He sat alone in the living room, putting on sunscreen, which was directly in front of the entrance where you stood, yet a bit far. His back faced you.

You walk over to him.

He hears your steps and turns his head, his hair falling over his face as he looks at who those steps belong to. Once he sees it's you, he focuses on spreading the sunscreen on his legs.

"Hey," he says quietly. You can still hear your friends' slightly muffled voices.

"Hey." You drag out the 'y' feeling awkward already because you know why he's here. You sit on the sofa in front of him. "Why're you here?"

He doesn't look at you; he only shakes his head.

"Mikasa?"

"Mostly Armin," he says, eyes never leaving his legs.

"Why?"

You've talked about this over the last few weeks. As you've grown closer, Eren has had to explain his random disappearances more than a few times.

"Mikasa's my sister. Sure, I'm pissed at her, but we live together; she's easier to tolerate, especially with my mom down my neck telling me to be nice to her. But Armin's different. I only see him at school, and it's just... I don't know. It was weird seeing him unexpectedly."

"He doesn't go to your house anymore?"

"I guess Mikasa stopped inviting him over as much once the arguments stopped. I appreciated it."

You cross your legs. "And how do you feel now? I didn't know he was coming."

"Neither did I, but it's fine, just awkward." He looked at the ground for a bit after saying that.

"Guys, we're leaving!" yelled Sasha from the hallway. You and Eren looked at Sasha, but she was halfway out already. The others followed after her, including Armin.

You stand up and say, "We should go."

Eren wasn't far behind you, already standing by the time the word 'go' left your mouth. "Yeah."

"Hey."

"Hm?" he looked at you.

"Don't let him ruin your time here."

With a gentle smile, he said, "Of course not."

You walk outside with Eren by your side. Just walking feels awkward when it's in his presence. Or maybe it isn't him, maybe it's you. You don't think he gets awkward; if he does, he's doing a great job hiding it.

You said miraculous, and miraculous it was. The sun that had managed to expose itself earlier is gone as quickly as it appeared. Okay, 'sun' is an exaggeration. It was mostly light beaming through the clouds. The weather is back to what it was earlier in the morning, save for the exposure. It was about a shade lighter, which was evidence of the short-lived life that England seemed to have.

You followed in the direction of the sounds your friends made, that and Eren served as a good guide, not that you relied entirely on him, for obvious reasons, the first being that he's Eren, the second, his face. One glance at him, and you knew he wasn't there with you. He was someplace else, far, far away. It disappoints you a bit.

You sigh and look away. Beneath you lies the trail of footsteps towards the beach. You're surprised by the greenery you have to walk through. It isn't much, but you weren't expecting any, if at all. The way isn't long, and if you had to guess, you'd say Historia's house was around 7 minutes away. It is a short time but still long enough to admire the view. Though the sun is hiding, the scenery is still lovely. Light blue water crashes and bubbles against the sand, and the greyish sky that coats the great abundance above you wouldn't be as impactful if not followed by that crisp air that cuts through your lungs.

You reach your friends and see them place towels and beach chairs on the ground and plop their belongings there. When you set your towel down and are about to sit, Jean asks, "Where's Jaeger?"

You're about to roll your eyes at the thought of him randomly leaving you until you hear footsteps and look behind you. It's Eren catching up to you.

"What the fuck?" he says as he struggles to take the handle of his backpack off.

You help him, and with a thud, the black bag is against the cold, damp sand. "What do you mean?" you say.

Jean grabbed the bag and placed it on the towel where all the bags were being placed.

"You left me."

You're taken aback. "No, I didn't; you disappeared.”

He looks at you, "Disappeared where? I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but-"

"You started power walking, couldn't even keep up."

"Christ, I didn't notice." You're stunned as you look at him.

Jean laughs and places his hand on Eren's shoulder. "Damn, Jaeger, how forgettable are you?"

Eren takes Jean's hand off of him and walks towards the group. You stare at the boy left with you in bewilderment, a look he knows too well. Does he not know how to read a room? You think about going after Eren but let it go for now.

“Okay, then what?”

Jean looks at you and says, "I don't know, she didn't want to."

"I mean, no girl wants to break up with her boyfriend." You laugh.

You were sitting on the beach chairs Jean and Connie had brought. As you requested, your chairs faced the shore, but your other friends, like Mikasa and Yasmin, were sitting beside each other directly in front of Historia and Armin. They were a bit further back and, by the position of the chairs, couldn't care less about the ocean. Sasha and Connie were attempting to go in the water, Sasha's excuse being that her bathing suit was too cute to go to waste, though they'd been trying to enter for the past thirty minutes. Their only progress had been getting the water ankle-high and only enduring it for twenty seconds.

As for you, you were in between Jean and Eren, and after bugging Jean about what happened between him and Amelie, he finally started speaking.

"She called me last night." He looked at you, a beer bottle resting on his chest.

You place your sunglasses on your head. Way too interested in the gossip. "At what time?"

"Two AM"

"Is that why she isn't here?"

"If I know." He scoffed.

"I thought she was on holiday?" said Eren. He's been quiet for the most part, not sulking, just squinting at the ocean. Jean didn't have that problem as he had sunglasses on, but Eren thought it foolish to wear sunglasses when there was no sun, and so he squinted.

"No, that was a Hitch," you say.

"And Indira?" asked Jean.

You sit up and look at Jean. "Do we not have the same friends?"

He adjusts his sunglasses. "We don't text, though."

"Yeah, me neither," said Eren.

"Well," you say as you lay back down, "she's visiting family in India." You pull the blanket you had on over your chest. It's getting colder. "Emilia?"

"Holiday."

You look at Eren, confusion on your face.

"She told me."

"She didn't tell me," you say.

"Same," Jean said.

"Anyway, Marlowe?" you ask.

Jean crinkled his nose. "We barely know him."

"Well, you barely know me, too."

"It's different," said Eren.

"How so? Didn't even know I existed until a couple of months ago."

"You're hard to get rid of," said Jean, which makes Eren laugh.

You grab a handful of sand and throw it at him. "Keep talking about Amelie; don't change the subject."

He clicked his tongue in annoyance and wiped the sand off his chest. You're disappointed; you thought it'd piss him off more. "I don't know what else to tell you. We broke up, then she gave me a letter. She called and texted me last night, and now she isn't here."

"But you guys broke up like a week ago. Was she going to come anyway?" you ask.

"I barely even remember it."

"No, they broke up. Then, she said she wouldn't come because it would be awkward, and when that didn't get a reaction out of Jean, she blew up and got super angry," Eren answered while still looking at the ocean. If you couldn't hear him, you'd assume he had no interest in the conversation.

"Out of Amelie and Jean, who's closer to Historia?" you say.

"Jean."

"Me."

"So even if you were dating, she wouldn't be here if you weren't?”

"Nope." Jean placed his sunglasses on his head, holding his long hair back. He took a sip from his beer.

"Give me more insider drama; you haven't said why you broke up."

Jean passed you the beer. "Isn't she your friend?"

"Well, you ruined her. She hasn't talked to me since you two started dating." You took a sip and scrunched your nose.

"No way," Eren said, almost accusingly.

"Yes, way. I didn't notice it until now because we saw each other at school. The last time we texted was probably three months ago. I didn't even know it was serious between you two."

"Me neither, man," says Jean.

"You're the most confusing man alive. What do you mean by that?"

"They were hooking up, then Amelie wanted them to be official, Jean didn't, and they broke up," Eren said, extending his hand to you, and you passed him the drink.

"What an asshole." You sneer.

"Right," said Eren.

"Since the beginning, I told her we were only hooking up. I broke it off because I noticed she was falling. You should give me a medal for that."

"Okay, superman, talk about the letter," you say.

His brows rose. "She told me she felt it in her bones we would meet again in the future."

"That's a long way to say 'see you next semester'," Eren laughed.

You cover your face with your hands, hiding your smile, and say, "I hope she kicks you in the balls next time she sees you." You look at Jean.

"Didn't she ghost you?" asked Jean.

"Oh, shut up, she had her reasons. I'd go crazy, too, if I had to date you."

Eren laughed as he took a sip.

Jean rolled his eyes and said, "I need a cigarette."

Eren scrunched his nose. "Don’t even think about it, you know I hate cigs."

"Yeah, I know," Jean said, standing up and walking toward Mikasa, who had a box in her hands.

"Do you think he's an ass, Eren?" you say.

"No," he adjusts his sitting position and takes a big gulp. "She agreed to it."

"Yeah, logically, but even I thought they were getting serious. Imagine how she felt."

"Sucks to suck." Eren shrugged. He holds the bottle between his lips and takes three big gulps. With the last one, he empties the bear and leaves it on the ground. He then looks at you and says, “Want to see something cool?"

After taking a quick detour to Historia's house and leaving your things there, Eren got the motorbike out of the garage.

"What do you think?" he said.

"It's green."

He smiled, and next thing you know, you held his waist as the wind blew on your face. You were high on adrenaline, but not from the bike. Since it was four-wheeled, it was fairly safe, but you had never been this close to Eren. Your chest lay flat against his back, your face on his nape, where you could feel the sweetest scent. Your eyes were closed as you felt gusts of wind smacking against your skin and clothes. You didn't know where he was taking you, and you didn't care.

The birds chirped as nightfall approached. It was getting darker and colder. As you scanned your surroundings for a place, you saw a few logs in a circle and what seemed to be an unlit bonfire.

"Stop here!"

"You sure?"

"Yes, yes!"

You held onto him tightly when you felt the bike slow its pace.

"Wait!" You look back, wind blowing on your face. "Go back!!" you tap impatiently on his shoulder.

He does as you say.

You get off the bike and cross the street to the beach, walking on sand instead of the pavement now. "There! The fire thingy!" You take Eren by the arm and pull him towards the place.

"Shit!" you say after stumbling on sand. Laughing uncontrollably the longer you spent in his presence.

Eren laughs and says, "How do you manage to fall on sand?"

“I didn't fall!” you whisper shout, practically being held up by his arm as your legs give out from laughter.

"Shh." Eren places his index finger on his lips. Ironically, his laughter could nearly drown out the sounds of the waves as they angrily hit the shore. Night growing deeper than your feet have sunk in the iced sand. "You're so loud."

You laugh even harder but place your hand on your mouth.

A particular wave hit the shore so hard that its sound completely overpowered how loud you and Eren were. While shocked, you looked at the source of the sound. "Guess we won't be having a dip," you said, laughter quickly joining you again.

"Can I give you a movie recommendation?" Eren says, looking down at you.

"Yeah."

"The Titanic? Don't know if you've heard of it."

"Oh, shut up. I was being sarcastic."

"No, you weren't. Just know that I wouldn't sacrifice myself like Jack for you."

You laugh with your mouth agape. "You're so fucking mean, Oh my God."

"Here!" he runs until he's close to one of the logs. "Is this it?!"

You try to keep up with him, your feet sinking into the sand and making it hard to move as freely as you'd like. You reach him, "Yes! Isn't this cute!"

"Guess so!" He beds down and fans the sand off one of the logs. He sits down and does the same to the piece of wood beside him. "Here."

His skin looked paler amongst the light that shone from the ocean—the perfect reflection of what was in the sky. Eren was captivating. You sit beside him and say, "Do you think it'll be awkward with Amelie and Jean?" You're not interested in them, but you'd die if the moment passed in silence.

"No, not really. Not Jean's first rodeo."

"Yeah, but will she be shunned?"

"Oh, that I don't know. I hope not, she's fun."

"Yeah, and Mikasa? Have you spoken to her today?"

He looks at you and sighs. "Yeah, actually. She reminded me Armin was staying with us; I forgot about that."

You look at him, confused, and he answers before you can ask.

"Almost every holiday, Armin's parents travel abroad for research. Ever since Armin's grandad died, he has stayed with us. Not always, though; that's why I forgot."

You nod. "Right."

Eren rests his elbows on his thighs and looks down, fidgeting with his hands.

"You miss them."

"I can't talk to him."

"What did he do, Eren?"

He looked at you, frustrated. "He-" he sighed. "No, I can't. He betrayed me. They both did, but I guess Mikasa's easier to understand." The dip between his brows grew deeper the more he thought about it. The topic, visually, makes him uncomfortable.

"Have they tried talking? Have you tried listening?"

He let out a breathy laugh, which felt more like a snicker. "Yes, and no. There's no excuse because it has nothing to do with them. They butted into my business and kept saying 'it was to protect me.'"

You furrow your brows. "Protect you from what?"

"Exactly!" he exaggerated by lifting his arms. "Thank you; they won't tell me. It's part of the 'protection,' I guess."

"Serial killer on the loose, maybe?”

He laughs. "Right. Got little Armin working overtime.”

You laugh. "Okay, but seriously," you elbow him. "Surely it can't be that bad. They're being dramatic.”

"Yes, I know. I won't have to deal with it soon, though." He kicks some sand.

You look at him to continue his sentence.

"College."

"Oh." You quietly say. "Do you know which one he's attending?"

"Oxbridge, probably. No problem there, God knows I'll never attend."

"Did you apply to them?"

"Yes, Mum convinced me to, but I wouldn't want to go even if I got in."

"Why not?"

"Bunch of private school tories." He shook his head.

You laugh. "Oh, that's rich coming from you."

"Yes, but I'm cool; they're all losers."

"Right."

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"This isn't an interview, dummy," he bumps you. Where will you be going?"

You sigh. "It's stupid."

"Just say it."

"I applied to quite a few, but I really want to get into Kings."

"I applied there, too." A smile crept into his face.

You smile back. "Let's see if it happens then."

Silence overtakes the moment, the waves behind you serving as enough noise for the silence not to be punishing, or maybe the punishment part had long departed. Perhaps you and Eren had grown so close that the lack of conversation between the two did not make you nervous but comfortable. Surprisingly, the silence felt like a warm blanket, covering the two in warmth and happy feelings, with no thoughts tormenting your every move and no anxiety creeping up your spine to cloud your actions—or lack thereof—just peace. You look at Eren, your head slightly lifting for your eyes to gather all there was to him. Eren looked down at you.

Many times, you would've looked away and continued with the conversation, but this time, you simply stared at him, not shy of intense eye contact—eye contact so powerful that it'd feel sinful to look away from such beauty.

If only you knew you shared thoughts. Almost as if there was an indescribable, transcendental connection between your minds. You always carry each other in your minds, whether by thinking of one another or sharing consciousness, reasoning, morals, even personalities. The way in which you process information and how you experience and see the world—you were the same, a mirror created by the same being, only slightly incomplete. For when you were to be reunited, you'd feel the affection of a thousand lifetimes, the love and care cultivated by a hundred different versions of yourselves.

The moon and the stars only aid your passion. Your skin glistened, and specks of sand on your skin got caught in the light of the rock that floated from thousands of kilometers away. You were breathtakingly gorgeous. And Eren found himself, yet again, unable to hold back. Unable to look away from the places in your body that yelled for his attention, for his affection. He let the trail of light the moon shone on your skin guide him. From the highest points of your shoulders to the supple skin of your breasts. You quietly follow his gaze, knowing the blues of your bathing suit mixed so well with those in the pigment of your skin. Eren looked at you in a way you had only dreamed of before.

You reach out a hand on his thigh. "Hey," you say.

He looks up at your eyes, and it's torture. You looked up at him in a way he had only dared to fantasize. In a way, he never thought he'd see. Your eyes stared into his very soul, and he knew this sight too well. He had seen it only a hundred times as the nights came down and all 'goodnights' had been said. Only when he'd be alone in bed, with his hand beneath his sheets, would he allow himself to breathe you in the ways he needed.

Though they were mere thoughts, they felt every bit as real as this moment. Eren felt like a simple pinch would be the answer to all his problems, including solving the question of whether this was real, but if it was, wouldn't he look foolish after doing so?

And so he held your gaze in his and decided to extend a hand to you. Once feeling your warm skin against the palm of his hands, he knew this was real.

This was real.

An uncontrollable stride bubbled up inside him, a want, a need to have you, to feel you, to bathe in the scent of your unforgiving and cruel body—so torturous, for it hasn't been his yet. He took the hand he had placed on your chin and put it on your waist, feeling the shape of you he had dreamed of. He pulled you closer.

"Eren."

He looked down at you, into your eyes, again, whispering softly. "What, what?" He pulled you closer.

You grab his face. You appreciate his eyes, the locks of hair that were caught in between the tips of your fingers, his overall beauty.

You simply smile at him before ending all it all and joining your lips with his.

-

CHOSOSHEART 2022 © All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, modify, or repost.

Hello, everyone!! Last time I updated this story was two years ago, and I wanted to apologize for my inconsistency, hopefully this chapter will make up for it!! Chapter ten is almost finished, it'll definitely be out this month!!

Thank you so much for reading, I’m ready to come back for good and finish trainwreck!!

ps: Also, I'm so sorry if it isn't as good as my past chapters, or if it's fast paced, I'm veryyy rusty and I struggled so much with remembering how to describe things and expressions. Hopefully it wasn't too bad.

See you guys next time!! :))

[goofalicousgooberface]

You're right. I DO want to know your sth headcanons. Hit me with the best you got.

:3333

I think it’d be cute if tails and Sonic found an abandoned airplane when they were on their own and used it as a makeshift house for a lil while so that’s why tails made the Tornado and loves it so much… cuz it reminds him of his childhood idk..

Regular (not yolk city) Metal Sonic would LOVE Rusty rose.. (who doesn’t)

Just now realizing that new yolk version metamy would reverse their dynamic in a way.. cold Amy and light hearted metal sonic

Very silly 2 me Anyway

Barry the quokka loves 60s music… (projecting? Me? Never..)

Sonic 100% stims with his tail. That thing is wagging almost 24/7 no matter what

I think Sonic’s quills would be rlly dirty tbh. Not because he doesn’t shower or anything it’s just that running that fast gets dirt and leaves and stuff stuck in it and his quills have gotten more course bc of it

On the other hand, shadows is somehow ALWAYS. Clean. He’s used to constantly being as clean as possible so Maria wouldn’t get sick from him, and even after not having access to water or anything sanitation wise he’ll still stay pretty clean

Honestly his saliva probably has antibodies and sanitizer or some shit idfk he’s the ultimate life form it makes sense 2 me

ANYWAYSIES! ^^ that’s all 4 now (sorry there’s no art 2 go w this I’m in the middle of a big piece rn)

[seresinsbabe]

Dream of Me: Chapter 1

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!reader

Synopsis: Jake made the dumb mistake cheating on the only girl he every really loved. Fast forward a few years, he's a Navy pilot and you're now a famous singer.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Angst, mentions of STI’s, mentions of cheating. Nothing generally bad this chapter.

Chapter Songs: I'm Not Mad

THIS BLOG IS 18+ MINORS DNI

I do not consent to having any of my work shared on any other platform. If you see any rendition of my works on another site know that it has been posted without my permission.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Four Years Later…

Jake had never really moved past you. It didn’t take him long to realize the error of his ways and those around him never really let him live it down. When his family heard of what he’d done they were beyond pissed. The two of you had been together so long that by the time it all went down you were practically family. 

The chlamydia diagnosis a week later was also another bit of instant karma. He was just thankful it was curable. Jake never should have slept with that girl. He’d kicked her out just minutes after you’d left and then had his own meltdown. 

Since then he never committed again. It was sex only for him. He was a broken man that had caused his own demise. Because of it he’d turned cold. Jake had always been a confident man, but he’d gone overboard after you left. Veering right into overly cocky, caring only about himself and no one else. It had earned him the call sign Hangman in flight school. He wasn’t well liked by the other pilots, only a handful could really tolerate his presence and he was more than alright with that. Jake didn’t need to be liked by anyone.

After you left him he tried to win you back. It was when you sent back the necklace he’d given you, the one that had belonged to his grandmother, that he knew you were really done. That was when he really broke. Because Jake had made the conscious decision to cheat. He’d known it was wrong when he was doing it and he’d still done it. There was no excuse for it. The only reason he’d done it was because he felt touch starved. You’d been working so hard, not only on your music but at the hospital that the relationship had been put on the backburner. Jake knew that what he should have done was stick it out. He should have waited for you, because ultimately you would have come back. When you’d done what you needed to do you would have come back. But he didn’t. Instead he chose to be selfish, a trait that more often than not landed him in hot water. 

To make matters even worse you had achieved your dream. It took a couple years for you to go mainstream, but then it was like Jake couldn’t get away from you. Your voice was everywhere, haunting him. Even his sisters would make it worse. The year you’d performed the Super Bowl half-time show was the worst. Somehow his younger brother had managed to hook the TV up to the whole house stereo system his father had just gotten installed. So no matter how far away Jake walked in the house he could never get away from your voice. He had to hear you sing to millions of people about how he’d hurt you, betrayed you. No one knew it was him. That was the one thing he was thankful for. As far as he knew you’d never revealed his name. 

After that he went on a boycott of modern music. Strictly only sticking to playing the songs on his phone. Never the radio. He couldn’t bear to hear your voice anymore. He stayed off the internet as much as he could, his way of avoiding any tabloid or press photos of you. It wasn’t easy, but he’d managed to do it and he was going to for as long as he could.

Most guys that cheated didn’t have to deal with this kind of aftermath. For Jake it was like some sick, twisted Karmic retribution that the girl he’d destroyed went on to become famous. Jake Seresin had truly fucked himself over on that one. 

“Hey, Seresin, you free Saturday night?” Jake’s head popped up to find Javy standing there with Phoenix and Rooster. 

“Uh yeah, think so. What’s up?” He was assuming they wanted to go to the Hard Deck, their normal Saturday night hang. It was one of the few bars Jake could go to where he didn’t hear one of your songs playing over the speakers while some heartbroken women screamed along to the lyrics. That was only because Penny refused to have any other music system than the jukebox. 

“We’ve got tickets to a concert, Bob had something come up and he can’t go, you want to take his place?” Jake shrugged.He knew most of what his squad mates listened to and he was sure whatever the concert was it would be good. And he would put money down that it wasn’t your concert. None of them seemed like the type to be that into your songs, so he felt like he didn’t need to worry about that. 

So he agreed, looking forward to a night with a handful of people he actually enjoyed. Even if he did but heads with Rooster and Nat every so often. They were still two of his closest friends. Even they didn’t know about you, though. Jake had never told anyone about you. As far as he was concerned no one else needed to know just how much of a douchebag he truly was. 

The rest of the week flew by fast and before Jake knew it he was piling into Rooster’s Bronco and headed for the arena. It wasn’t until the electric billboards on the arena came into view that he realized he had indeed fucked up agreeing to come. He should have asked who the concert was for, because if he knew it was yours he definitely never would have agreed. Now he couldn’t back out because they were already here and even if that wasn’t the issue he’d have to come up with an excuse as to why he didn’t want to watch you perform. It wasn’t like he could say ‘Sorry guys, gotta jet. I cheated on the headliner and all of her songs are about me.’ 

Fuck. He was really screwed. Even more so when he realized just how close up their seats were. So close he knew you’d be able to see him. You’d be able to spot him the crowd and Jake wouldn’t be able to handle that he knew that for a fucking fact. 

Natasha was buzzing with excitement next to him and Jake immediately knew this was mostly for her. “Didn’t know you were such a big fan of this girl.” He mentioned nonchalantly. It was more so he could gauge just how much of a fan Natasha was. If she knew she was standing next to your ex, the one who’d made you become this way, how would she react?

“Oh my god yeah! She’s such an amazing artist, I mean there’s so much pain behind her words but she sings them so beautifully.” Jake couldn’t disagree with that. You’d always had a beautiful voice. Of course when you were with him you mostly sang country. Now it was pop music, which he couldn’t lie, from what he had heard your voice was much better suited for this genre than it was country. 

“Not to mention she’s hot as hell,” it was Rooster who chimed in. “She’s got those big doe eyes, a great rack and damn those lips.” It was taking everything in Jake not to deck Rooster for talking about you that way. “Whatever guy broke her heart is a fucking idiot.” That made Jake want to punch him even more. Even though Rooster was right. Jake was a fucking idiot.

The only response Jake could muster without making any of them suspicious was a nod. How the hell was he going to get through this?

The first act was good, not as good as you, but still good. Jake enjoyed the music, but each song was just one song closer to your performance. When you finally did step on stage it was like everything from all those years ago came flooding back. 

You were still the same woman he’d fallen in love with but you were different. You really looked like a woman now and not some girl in her early twenties chasing a dream. He’d seen pictures of you here and there. As much as he tried it was almost impossible to completely avoid your face with as big as you’d gotten. 

Your look was grungier. It wasn’t the sweet sundresses or bell bottoms you used to wear. The mesh top with the black leather bustier and skirt wasn’t something you’d worn with him, but it looked damn good. And your legs, the ones that had always gone on for miles, looked even longer in the thigh high heels you had on. Fuck. Is this the route you still would have taken if he hadn’t broken your heart or would you still be performing in a sundress?

None of his friends seemed to notice how mesmerized by you Jake was. Likely because they were all just as mesmerized by you and no one could blame them. You were in your element up there on stage and he couldn’t help but be in awe. Of course he’d watched you perform before, but this was much different than those small town dive bars. For more than just the fact that you were singing your heart out about just how badly he had broken you.

It was nearing the end of the set when you noticed him. Those piercing green eyes watching your every move. Why was he here? It had been so long since you’d seen his face, heard his voice or anything. Every so often his family would check in on you, but they never brought him up. They knew better and they had been almost has upset as you were over the whole thing. 

Your stomach was in knots. The man who broke you in two was here, watching you sing about him on stage. Once you notice him you couldn’t stop noticing him, but you did your best. Focusing on the music and the lyrics coming in through your ear piece. 

“Change up the last song.” You rushed out of your mouth when you went back stage for a brief break.

“What?”

“Change it. I want to do I’m Not Mad.”

“But it hasn’t been released yet, are you sure?” Everyone was looking at you like you’d sprouted three heads but you just nodded. Adamant on your decision and they finally relented. “Alright, we’re full sending it.”

Most of your songs were written about Jake, but this one has been written the night of another passed anniversary. You’d been rummaging through your stuff trying to find the wine glass a friend had given you years ago when you came across a framed picture. It was you, in one of Jake’s t-shirts, lying in the mess of your blankets with a cup of coffee in hand. It was the first morning after you guys had moved in together and Jake had taken the picture. Spouting something about wanting to memorialize how pretty you were in the morning sun. The wine glass was forgotten for the need of pen and paper.

“I'm not even mad anymore

Oh really I ain't even mad anymore

Yeah, I don’t even want you back anymore

I don’t remember what we had anymore, yeah”

You tried to keep your focus on the crowd as you sang but your eyes kept traveling back to Jake’s. Singing to him because you want him to hear it. To really listen to you.

“I hope your back aches and your knees hurt

I hope you think about me sleeping in your t-shirt

I hope your little brother turns out to be nothing like you

I hope that you hurt more than I do,”

He did. God, did Jake ever hurt more than you did. Neither of you were the same and while you had channeled your pain into something productive, Jake had managed to make himself a nuisance to anyone that he could. All because of the idiotic choice he’d made seven years ago. Because it was a choice. He knew that then  and he knew that now. 

“And honestly I still wish you nothing but the best

I know that you're still self-obsessed

I hear the wicked get no rest

But when you do I hope you'll dream of me,”

Crowd be damned at this point. Your feet had carried you closer to the edge of the stage Jake was closest to. Conviction in your voice as you sang to him. This felt like it was teetering close to the edge of the closure you’d never allowed yourself to have.

“I don't even hope you die these days

I hope you live 'til eighty-five these days

Regretting that you'd ever lied these days

I hope it's eating you alive these days

Yeah, I hope you're up late in the bathroom

Just wishing Imma change my mind and come back soon

I hope that when you're thirty-five years

You’ll wish that you tried to 'cause I know that I'd do.”

Each verse had images of your relationship playing in Jake’s mind. It wasn’t a power ballad by any means, but damn it was still getting your point across. 

Jake did regret it all. He regretted ever caring so much about himself that he lost sight of you and brought that girl home. And when he was thirty-five he was no doubt going to wish things had been different just as he was now.

By now the crowd had noticed you were singing to someone and eyes were turned towards Jake. There would be articles about this in no time flat. That you were sure of. Videos anywhere and everywhere from fans’ phones showing the way you two were looking at each other as you sang. Texts from your friends and family, texts from his family. Rumors would fly. The world might figure out who he was and that he was the one you sang about. And really it was likely about time. How no one had figured it out yet was beyond you, but this definitely wasn’t the way you figured it would come out.

“I ain't even mad about it anymore

No really, I ain't even mad about it anymore

Maybe just a little less than I was before

I've got a twenty dollar bill that says that you never ever ever gonna change,”

You wondered if he had changed. Likely not, he was Jake after all. If anything you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d only gotten worse. 

“I still wish you nothing but the best

I know that you're still self-obsessed

I hear the wicked get no rest

But when you do I hope you'll dream of me.”

Your eyes were still on him when you sang the last verses. Holding his gaze as the music faded out. Someone was in your ear yelling for you to close it out, to say thank you and goodnight. You had a meet and greet to get to. Eventually you did, tearing yourself away from him to focus on your job.

Jake swallowed hard, watching as you finally disappeared off stage. He turned to look, finding his friends staring him down with wide eyes.

“Dude, what the hell was that?” Javy was the one to finally ask and Jake swallowed hard again. He knew he wasn’t going to get out of this, but he didn’t want to answer in this crowd. So Jake just started moving, pushing through the people to get to the Bronco. 

“Hangman?” Nat started just as they’d reached the Bronco. 

Jake squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath before he opened his mouth. “She’s my ex.”

“What? No way.”  Jake rolled his eyes at Rooster’s denial, but continued on.

“We dated before she got big, I cheated, she caught me and…”

Rooster scoffed loudly again. “No way, this is just another one of your inflated stories. You? Date her? I don’t believe it.” Jake didn’t really give a shit if Rooster believed him or not. It didn’t matter at this point. Jake just shook his head and reached for the door handle, wanting to get out of there as fast as he could. 

Javy seemed to notice Jake’s distress and became the voice of reason, somehow convincing the other two to drop the topic. Jake knew it would only be dropped for a short time. And whether he wanted them to or not, he was already well aware they would press him for the full truth of it. A truth he hadn’t spoken out loud since it had happened. Out of pure embarrassment and guilt. Jake had always been an asshole, but he never would have guessed he’d become a cheater.

@cherrycola27 @clancycucumber2300 @bradshawseresinbaberesinbae @brittanyovensns @rolisinhaa @phoenixssugarbabyby @deaddumblbumble @caitsymichelle13 @whateverbagman @avengersgirllorianna @izz-ayes-world @novagreen04 @percysaidnever @leafsfan02 @anurst @rhirhikingston @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @flrboyd @mrsjaderogers @alldaysdreamer @gabicalicota @jstarr86

[nescaveckwriter]

Paintbrushes and Romance - Chapter 2 0 - 🐞💕

Dean x Reader

A/N: It's here my bugsies🐞💕 the wedding, I'll suggest you grab a nice cup of hot cocoa and a box of tissues 🤭🥲🥰🐞

Side Note: I can't believe my first ever written story, has made it this far, I feel so blessed with all the love and support from y'all 🥰🐞(of course I'm not crying 😭 you are😂)

Warning: Just pure fluff, and some happy tears🐞🥰

Thank you for loving me, even though, I've ran away, messed everything up, and managed to still blame you sometimes for stuff going wrong, Babe, you have given me more in this life than I could ever ask, you've given me, love, laughter, a chance to really have the life I've dreamt of as a little girl, Dean my love, you came into my life in the most unexpected way, in a coffee shop, somehow it feels like ages ago, we've changed, we've grown, we've gotten older, we have a life together, we have a beautiful house, on a lovely piece of land, but in all honesty, I would love you even if we never fix all the leaks on the roof,  I would love you, if we stayed in the impala, my love, I would choose you a million times over, even with all the stuff we both went through, I'd choose you time and time again, see babe, with your emerald green eyes, and that stupid mischievous smile of yours, you stole my heart, I guess what trying to say is, that you are my home, no matter where we are.

''Urgh. I can't say that, it sounds so freaking cheesy'' agitated, crumbling up the piece of paper and throwing it in the corner of the bedroom.

''Sweetie, are you okay'' a sweet smile on Caroline's face.

Tears welling up in her eyes ''No mom, I'm not, everything's a disaster, why did we say we are going to write our own vows? And to top off the damn cheesy wedding vows, I'm afraid my dress aren't going to fit, I'm going to throw up in front off everybody, this morning sickness is killing me, and I'm just.. just a mess''

Looking at her daughter in her bride to be gown, shaking her head ''Sweetie, you look beautiful, your dress is going to fit perfectly, your not even showing yet'' laughing now '' and as for the wedding vows, it can be as cheesy as you want it to be, as long as it comes from your heart, and we both know your morning sickness will pass in a sort little while, Eileen went to fetch you some ginger tea, okay''

Sighing, wiping her tears away. ''Thank you Mom, nobody really warns you about the crazy hormones when your pregnant.''

''Sweetie, you've always been a bit a little more emotional'' letting out giggle

Glancing at her mom, then breaking out in laughter. ''Yes Mom your right, I am being over dramatic aren't I?''

''I won't answer that if I were you, Mom'' Joe teased.

The three of them laughed. Joe looked at his sister, who's make-up and hair aren't done yet. He starts teasing her ''Oh poor bastard, he's going to stand at the altar thinking you're not going to show up'' 

Clicking her tongue, with a twinkle in her eyes, ''I still have loads of time, now go! I need to get ready''

Hearing Joe's laughter helps to calm her nerves, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth, ''I am being over dramatic, now lets start celebrating with some alcohol free champagne and good music,'' getting up, walking to were her wedding dress is still nicely wrapped up, feeling the excitement pulsing through her veins, ''I'm getting married, today'' letting out laughter.

----

''Dammit Sammy, I can't find the rings, I knew I put it on the bedside table!'' running his hand over his face

''Dude, breathe, you gave the rings to Cas, remember'' letting out a snort

Dean sighs ''Oh yes, your right, hell I need a drink, I can't believe I'm so nervous.''

Putting his hand on his brother's shoulder, his voice sincere, ''Dean the two of you are made for each other, today is going to be perfect''

''Thanks man, there's a part of me, that thinks she's going to realize, I'm just really a jerk and leave me standing there, I'm not exactly a perfect man.''

Shaking his head in disbelief, ''Dean, that woman loves you, and only you, why I have no idea, but she does, so just try and enjoy today''

Cas, walks in the room, a big grin on his face ''You ready to be a married man, Dean?''

Dean and Sam laughs, but its Dean that speaks first. ''Honestly I wish it was all over already, I just want to stick that ring on her finger, and make sure she's mine forever, just don't let her hear that'' he laughs

Sam takes two glasses pouring some whisky in it, handing one to Dean ''Drink up brother, it will soothe the nerves'' and then taking a sip himself.

Cas glares at the two brothers.

''What'' the two brothers ask simultaneously 

''I'll take some of the whisky too, please'' Cas answered.

Dean laughs ''Pour him one Sammy''

''You and that beautiful woman your about to marry, has made me crazy and worried in the past, so if I'm going to marry the two of you today, I need a little something extra'' he laughs

The three of them spend the rest of the morning, talking about life, while wondering what the girls are up too.  

----

Adjusting his tux, ''Does this thing ever get any less uncomfortable'' glancing at himself, in the mirror, thoughts racing through his head, ''she deserves way more, I'm not good enough, what am I even doing, how the hell am I going to be a good husband, a father?''

Removing the the tie, throwing it to the floor, rushing through the door, gasping, ''Sorry Bobby, I didn't see you''

''Where are you going you idjit? its almost time to for the wedding to start,'' he remarked

''I can't do this Bobby, she deserves better than me'' he growled

Bobby slapping him through the face ''damn idjit! would you just stop being so overly dramatic'' he warned

Dean's eyes are filled with concern, ''how.. how do I know if I'm going to be good enough for her, for our child''

''Do I look like Dr. Phil too you'' he barked a bit, taking Dean by his shoulders ''Son, she loves you, and you love her, as long as there's love then its good enough, nobody is perfect, but when there's love, real love between two people, then its pretty damn close.'' 

A corner of his mouth turned up, looking at the man who's more of a father to him, ''Thank you, I needed that.'' he expressed his gratitude.

''Yeah, yeah, we got to get a move on'' Bobby gestured.

----

Inspecting herself in the mirror, her hair draped over her shoulders, loose little braids everywhere, tiny flowers, placed in between the braided strands, her makeup is soft, consisting of natural nudes, mixed with light browns, and light pink lips, glancing down at her dress, its a beautiful white, A-line dress, the corset piece, hugging her waist, and the sleeves only halfway up, exposing her neckline and back a little, the detailing is small, but everywhere you look is little roses and flowers with leaves draping all the way down, her brown boots with white laced tips, just giving her enough length, so that the seam of the dress, doesn't get dragged through the grass and mud as she walks towards the river, where the altar is set up. A smile tugging at her lips, ''I'm ready to marry the man of my dreams'' 

Caroline, Mary, Ruby and Eileen, just admiring the beautiful bride, Caroline's brittle voice, breaks the silence first, ''My sweet girl, you look amazing, beautiful and radiant'' hugging her daughter tightly. 

Her voice shaky ''Thank you mommy''

''My son, is sure lucky to marry such a beauty'' Mary's voice sweet

Letting out a laugh ''I'm the lucky one''

Eileen hands, you the beautiful flower bouquet, signing to you, ''its time''

As you walk out of the room, into the hallway meeting the glances of your father and Bobby. You asked your dad if he'd walk you down the aisle and if it would be okay if Bobby would also walked with the two of you, he didn't oppose, he said, that he understood why, and so you asked Bobby if it also be okay, and that day, the gruff old man, shed a few tears.

Bill's jaw dropped, when he saw his daughter walking out, ''Honey you are beautiful, a true vision.''

''I second that Bill'' Bobby smiled.

Pulling both into a hug, ''Thank you Daddy, Bobby, it means so much to me.

----

All your family and friends are seated, waiting patiently for your arrival, as you start walking closer, you see Sam saying something to Dean, and Dean just laughed, like really laughed. Its like the world comes to a standstill if that man laughs, damn I love him.

Joe starts playing the traditional wedding entrance song on the piano, as you start walking towards the aisle, Your Dad on your right side and Bobby on your left, Ruby and Eileen walking in front of you, to take their positions in as bridesmaids. As you stride closer to Dean you could've sworn his eyes glossed over, his smile was from ear to ear as he shaked Bill's and Bobby's hands, giving them a one sided hug, and a low whisper of thank you.

You tried batting away the tears, as you glanced over the family and friends, then finally too your husband to be, but it didn't quite work. Dean thumbed away the tears. Mouthing, ''if you're okay and that you're the most beautiful thing he ever layed eyes on. 

Replying ''yes babe, just extremely happy''

Dean's emerald eyes, scanning over your lovely face, he leans in about to kiss you.

Cas giving a fake cough, ''Excuse me Dean but, you may not kiss the bride just yet'' the crowd burst out into laughter as they saw the quilty look upon his face. ''Fine'' he mumbled 

Cas starts ''Family and friends, we have come together today, to join these two in marriage,  it's about time don't you agree'' he chuckled ''They said they'd write their own vows, so with no further do, the bride can start'' he smiles

While glancing at Dean and the grumbled up note, as you read it, there's some laughter and some sobbing, but the way Dean's eyes lit up when you said he was your home you knew, the written vow, wasn't cheesy, it was a piece of your heart.

Clearing his throat, he begun to speak, his husky voice melted into the hearts off the people celebrating with you. ''Sweetheart I have written this over and over, and in all honesty I lost the damn note'' letting out a nervous chuckle, ''but what I was reminded of earlier is, love isn't perfect, it's no fairytale or storybook, and hell, it never comes easy, we have faced so many obstacles and challenges, and even in the times we were away from each other, there were parts of us, that held on and never gave up, hoping we'll find each other again, and I've come to realize that every second, minute, hour, days, weeks, years, spent with you, will still not be enough, sweetheart I never in my life would've thought an amazing woman as you would be able to love me, so I promise, with every breath I will love you, and with every heartbeat, I will care for you, and with my soul I will adore you.'' hearing him say that, released a river of tears from your eyes.

Handing them the rings, Cas said ''with this ring, I commit, my life, dreams, hope and love to you my beloved, I vow to forever love you''

The two of you said the line as you were sliding the rings over your left fingers, both of you smiled when you said ''I Do'' simultaneously

Cas said with a smile ''You may kiss the bride''

A mischievous smile tugs at his lips ''Don't mind if I do'' his lips brushed against your, it started gentle but got deeper as he pulled you closer. The two of you laughed into each others lips, as you heard someone in the crowd yelled, ''Hey you two! there's kids here'' Dean gives you one more quick kiss, before he pulls back. Looking over the crowd, he mocks towards the person in the distance ''Bite me''

Grabbing your hand, holding it up in the air, as if he just won something, his emerald eyes, reflecting the sunlight shining down, he smirked, ''This is my wife, Mrs. Winchester'' you laughed, the amount of joy you feel is to difficult to describe, not even to speak off the love you feel for this man. As they walk down the path and the people started throwing the heart shaped leaves, whispering to each other, ''this day is perfect!'' Sharing a kiss, you feel raindrops starting to dampen your skin, laughing the two of you run towards the entrance of the hall where the celebration will be held, knowing no matter what storm comes next, the two of you are home, and nothing is going to shake this loving foundation.  

[oh-stars]

Two Seconds

C is for Compact

Ohstars Alphabet Prompts | G | 773 words | cw: N/A

---

Eddie does not babysit often. Not alone anyway. And when he did, Bubs was stationary and spent most of his time drooling. 

Now, he’s still drooling a lot but he’s mobile. He didn’t think babies could move that fast! Especially ones who started crawling backward. (Which Steve is bizarrely proud of.) But Steve had to go in for a work emergency and Robin still had an hour before she’d be home, so Eddie, the gratuitous roommate and uncle that he is, offered to watch him. 

He’s washing dishes, scrubbing the pots from where he’d prepped dinner since it was his turn, and had set up Jackson on a blanket in the middle of the kitchen with some pots and pans. Real classic Munson distraction method here. Little dude was happy as can be beating on the metal pots with a spoon and his hands, coming up with a song only he knew, while Eddie danced to his… music. 

“I think,” Eddie says as he glances over his shoulder at a very focused Jackson, “that this means Uncle Eddie’s going to have to splurge on a real nice drum set for your birthday, squirt.” 

He winces at a particularly loud bang. “Or maybe I’ll buy it to stay at Grandpa Jim’s, yeah?”

Jackson squeals as he throws the spoon-turned-drumstick. 

“You got a deal,” Eddie says, pointing at him with a soapy finger. He turns back to the dishes, nodding along to Jackson’s playing. 

He’s so close to being done with the dishes. So close to having dinner on the table and the kitchen cleaned by the time both Rob and Stevie get home, he doesn’t notice the music has… stopped. 

The only sounds in the kitchen are the scrubbing of his sponge and the splashing of the dishwater. Not even the soft little baby noises Bubs makes! With a furrowed brow, Eddie glances over his shoulder to see… an empty blanket and abandoned pots and pans. 

Fuck.

Eddie drops the pan into the water, grabs a rag, and flies out of the kitchen. He’s not in the living room. Eddie jumps around the stuffed animals and hard, plastic toys Jackson has strewn across the place. How the hell is he so fast? He’s not even a year old! 

He’s not in his room, somehow the only clean place in the whole goddamn house, and he’s not in Steve’s room or his. Not in the hall bathroom or the little laundry room that someone must have left open. What the hell? 

Eddie’s heart is racing as he barges into Robin’s room, the door noticeably cracked. If he lost their kid, they’ll never trust him again. Steve will never love him and Robin would sick Erica and Max on him or something. Fuck, she’d probably be the one to strangle him first, then unleash the girls. 

Before he can panic fully, there’s a clinking coming from Robin’s bathroom. His relief is overshadowed by the horrifying thought that Jackson, sweet little baby Bubbles, has gotten into…. Anything? Everything? 

He catapults over the bed and nearly dives into the bathroom. 

Jackson freezes, mouth open as he looks up at him with big, curious eyes. His hands, however, are covered in makeup as he digs into one of Robin’s compacts. 

“Holy shit, kid,” Eddie groans as he drops to his knees beside him. He pulls the compact out of his hands and starts brushing off some of the makeup. 

This, apparently, is the wrong move. Jackson immediately starts to cry, big wails as he reaches for the compact Eddie stole from him. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie sighs as he takes the makeup bag that’s spilled all around the bathroom floor and starts stuffing things back in it. “I’m the worst. I know. I’m so sorry I’m trying to make sure you stay alive until your parents get back.” 

“Is there a reason my son is screaming?”

The scream Eddie lets out is unholy to say the least. He clutches at his chest and looks up into the mirror above him to find Robin standing in the doorway. She waves at him through the mirror. 

“I turned around for two seconds,” Eddie huffs. 

Robin laughs and steps around him to pluck Jackson into her arms. “Never turn your back on a baby.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I think I’m picking up on that, birdie.” 

The door opens and shuts, this time Eddie hears it. Which is just peachy. Now Steve, perfect parent and babysitter extraordinaire, is going to see how incompetent of a babysitter he is. “Is something burning?” he calls. 

“Shit!” 

He runs out of the bathroom to Robin’s laughter.

---

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!!

Ao3 Link

[lavender-rosa]

Kny Characters + Internet

Ok now THIS is the last one for now I promise

(modern au obv)

Tanjirou: He likes watching videos of people doing impressive skateboard tricks, video game speedruns, heartwarming videos named smt like "WATCH THIS TO HAVE YOUR FAITH IN HUMANITY RESTORED", unlikely animal friends, cats being silly, puppies running around, comedy sketches with high production value and whatever else 15 year old boys watch on Youtube (Minecraft??? Pokemon??? Among us??? Lego??? I don't actually know)

Nezuko: Has an (extremely popular) etsy shop where she sells her homemade jewelry, and uses bandcamp to follow her friends who upload their music on there (namely Makomo). She also sort of uses whatsapp like social media bc she’s just in so many groupchats, and is constantly updating her status bc she can never settle on which string of emojis it should be. Her Youtube history consists of DIY's, fashion, baking, travel vlogs that kind of thing.

Zenitsu: He is very precious about his phone, because it is where he will someday write the next great contemporary novel. At the present, it is mostly scattered across various notes in his notes app, and mostly in code so that Kaigaku or gramps won't understand even if they do read it. Kaigaku hacks into his phone a lot, a fact which he has resigned himself to, which is why all of his text conversations are incredibly boring, except for his messages with Nezuko, which are communicated almost entirely in an emoji secret language only they understand. His camera roll is exclusively screenshots of pdfs and pictures of other people's cats he's saved, as well as some of Jigoro's old man memes he sends in the whatsapp family groupchat (which is just Jigoro, him and Kaigaku who has it on mute and never opens it) which autodownload into his phone (he doesn't know how to change that setting). He sleeps with his phone under his pillow, and always has it in his pocket during the day, but somehow Kaigaku still manages to steal it at least once a month, and until he has to leave for college, he is just gonna have to live like that.

Inosuke: He has a phone, but he doesn't use it much because it is a hassle. His friends and family know only to text him when it's urgent, with the exception of Nezuko who texts him constantly and Tanjirou, who will call him whenever he feels like it. He had Nezuko change his settings so that everything he dictates comes out in all caps. He's sick of people informing him of this fact as if it is a glitch and not something he is doing on purpose. He does have a Twitter but he doesn't actually follow anyone just tweets whenever he feels like it (whenever he has a thought he feels needs documenting). He has amassed many followers due to his dril+cher tweetstyle, a fact which pisses off Zenitsu (someone who actually attempts to gain a following on Twitter) to no end.

Genya: Watches NPR Tiny Desks, KEXP live, lofi hip hop anime beats to study/relax to and best of Vine compilations. Anything on Youtube that isn't music or shortform comedy simply does not interest him.

Kanao: Loves the artful simplicity of those animated TED-Ed videos. They have led her down a lot of interesting research rabbitholes. She promises Nezuko she would stop sending them to Tanjirou though after he spent the entire month telling her about nothing but eel mating habits and lesser known facts about Genghis Khan.

Rest of characters under read more

Rengoku: He isn't technology illiterate per say, but he is way too cool to be addicted to his phone. He does use the popular social media apps on a semi-regular basis, just because he genuinely enjoys seeing what people are up to, but he is extremely healthy about it. His camera roll is filled with pictures of his friends, family and every animal he's ever seen and been lucky enough to snap a photo of. He also has one of those ecofriendly phone cases. He uses his phone to spontaneously call people when he is thinking about them, which all of his friends have just gotten used to despite the fact that his generation doesn't simply do that. From anyone else it would be annoying but from him it's adorably charming.

Giyuu: Exclusively uses Youtube to watch cute cat videos, otherwise he's terrified he will click on something that might potentially radicalize him, since he read somewhere that the algorithm was designed to do that, or worse, direct him to one of those content farm generated animations of Elsa getting a C section, which is apparently also a concern. Frankly, the internet scares him, and he tries to avoid it as much as possible.

Sanemi: Like Giyuu, he is also terrified that social media would be sure to bring out the worst in him, so he limits his social media use to Spotify, JSTOR and online chess, where a 12 year old boy from Turks and Caicos Islands always manages to beat him which pisses him off to no end. These are not actual social media platforms, his friends are sure to point out, but it’s the most social he’s willing to get, so it counts.

Shinobu: Her Youtube library is extremely eclectic. She can't stop clicking videos titled like "The most Destructive Pandemics and Epidemics in Human History" just to watch the entire thing and be like "why did I watch this? I knew all of that already" but ya know. She just had to make sure. Her personal favourite side of Youtube is the videos of chemical reactions, especially the ones that end in an explosion. The only apps she is actually addicted to is Sudoku and online chess, where she is secretely catfishing Sanemi by pretending to be a 12 year old boy from Turks and Caicos Islands who trounces him every time. Meanwhile whenever she plays against him in real life, she makes sure she always loses to him and to never employ any remotely similar strategies as her catfishsona. Sanemi never catches on.

Uzui: He loves his phone for one reason only: Spotify. The annual release of Spotify wrapped is like a holiday to him. He does not shut up about it for a whole month, which is as annoying as you would think it is. He uses Instagram sparingly but he does have a decent following there. His voice memos are littered with half-baked ideas for new songs that he wakes up in the middle of the night to record before the idea is lost forever. His camera roll is mostly selfies, selfies of him with his wives, his friends and videos of him skateboarding. He also has an ecofriendly phone case (it was a birthday gift from Kyojuro).

Iguro: He loves his phone because pretending to text gives him an excuse to avoid talking to people in public spaces or at parties. Whenever asked, will claim that he doesn’t use social media and never has. This is a lie. He’s had a Tumblr account since he was 13, and not a day goes by that he doesn’t scroll through his dashboard. He has an entire folder in his camera roll that is just videos of Sanemi and Giyuu getting into fights. He rewatches a couple before bed every night, it relaxes him.

Mitsuri: Her Youtube history is filled with baking videos, recipes, speedpaints and cute cats being cute. She has a lot of games in her phone, half of which are from her siblings. She's very lucky she knows how to jailbreak her phone, because they make a lot of in-game purchases without her permission. She also loves elaborate make-up tutorials that she would never even bother to attempt replicate (but she likes to think that maybe one day if she gets invited to the Met Gala she now has looks to choose from)

Muichirou: Occasionally enjoys listening to long ass video essays about obscure topics, but mostly he just listens to podcasts. He is also partial to this one video of a chainsaw revving on a 10 hour loop, and he plays it at just the right volume that his friends will be like "What's that awful noise?" To which he innocently responds "I don't hear anything" and they are like "Oh no, you must be able to hear it, it's so annoying..." to which Muichirou responds "Are you sure? It all sounds normal to me". He tries this on Yuichirou once, this leads them to get into a very violent brawl in which Muichirou's nose is nearly broken, so he decides to limit this particular gambit to the company of his friends only.

Gyomei: Only uses Youtube to listen to meditation playlists and isn't even aware that there are other types of videos on this platform. Ignorance is truly bliss.

Yushiro: He has a Wikipedia account and he is constantly updating articles when he’s bored. his favorite pasttime is adding [citation needed] because after all the research he’s contributed to the database, he’s earned the right to be a bitch. He goes on Reddit sometimes, but he doesn’t have an account. He’s scared of social media, and refuses to touch any of it with a ten foot pole.

Muzan: He is torn between hating Apple products and knowing that having the latest iPhone model is a necessary status symbol. Which is why he has both an iPhone AND a Blackberry. He has a huge gold iPhone with no case (and yet not a single scratch on it!) and one of those oldass Blackberries with the tiny little keyboard. It is sort of unclear what he needs both of these phones of, considering he is not a drug dealer, but he insists that both of his phones are as necessary to him as his two laptops (one for work and one for Reddit, naturally). Has a Facebook, Linkedin, Twitter that he rarely uses (because that platform’s really for sjws everyone knows that), and a Reddit account that he is obsessed with. He and Kagaya have actually got into death-threat-escalating level fights over politics on certain threads before, but unbeknownst to them, are actually very fond of each other on the Rick and Morty thread because they have all the same opinions. Neither of them seem to notice that their fandom friend has the same username as their sworn enemy who they once yelled at for two days straight. 

Kaigaku: Is a Soundcloud rapper. Sometimes, when company is around Zenitsu puts on Kaigaku's Soundcloud album as a test of endurance to see who breaks and has to turn it off first.

Daki: She has so many notifications blowing up her phone at any given time that she has just elected to ignore them throughout the day and then check on the people she actually cares about responding to before bed every night. She sees opening her phone as kind of a chore, and always has it on do not disturb mode, except for when she is being deliberately petty, at which point she'll turn it on as loud as possible because it makes her laugh when the people around her snap "Can you put that thing on silent ?" in unison. Her camera roll has soooooooo many selfies, but seeing as posting pictures of her face makes her money, can you blame her? She has a huge following on Instagram, but she wisely never checks her notifications or DM's because it's scary in there. Exclusively watches the goriest of true crime stories and callout videos, the messier and the more contrived, the better.

Gyokko: He follows 0 people on twitter but has approximately 43.7k followers. Most of them are convinced that his anonymous account actually belongs to some aging starlet because of the all-caps, eccentric nature of his syntax. He yells his tweets into his phone whenever he’s bored in his room, but when he says shit like “I DESERVE  AN EGOT” half his followers start trying to deduce which awards he already does have. they’re convinced he at least has a Tony.

Douma: To boost his platform he decides to go on a reality TV show. He pretends to be a vapid airhead, but is actually very subtly manipulating not only the other contestants, but also the crew. He walks out from this whole experience with double the Instagram followers (he already had a sizable amount to begin with) and a huge bag. He also runs a pyramid scheme because of course he does.

Kokushibou: He had a crappy old flip-phone given to him by his father for the longest time. By the time he gets a smartphone he has absolutely no desire to use social media, having seen the disastrous effects on other people's brains. He has one of those bulky phone cases that doubles as a swiss army knife and a wallet. All the apps in his phone are organized in groups. That said his notes app is a MESS. He's in a groupchat with Muzan and Nakime which mostly consists of articles he forwards him that he reads and respond thoroughly to or one of them texting "lunch?" and the other one sending a thumbs up emoji.

[ohnomytummy]

Urgh... I have the stomach flu. I caught it at a 3 day festival I went to.

The first day was fine, I set up our tent and spent the whole 24 hours listening to the artists and having fun. I do remember noting that the nurses station was quite full.

After I went to bed on the second day, I woke up feel queasy. But I shook it off and went back on the dance floor.

A couple of hours later, some dude leaned over and puked right in front of me. This made me loose the fragile grip on my stomach that I already had, along with a number of others. I think all up, there were about 15 people uncontrollably vomiting.

I went back to the tent where I just got worse. I tried to sleep but I just kept getting sick from both ends.

They ended up finishing the festival 12 hours earlier then was planned because literally everyone, even the artists, had caught it.

Now I'm at home, still being sick from both ends. Yet somehow, even with the pure liquid that is coming out of me at both ends, my stomach is somehow rock hard??

So I'm curious. What would you do if you were with me? Would you catch it too? If not, what would you do to my poor tummy?

(Quick note: I'm into tummy torture and humiliation as well :)) )

😳🥴 I’m sorry…this sounds like a fantasy I didn’t know I had???? Wowowowow…how do you hold in such a kinky situation when everyone else is so…*gulp*sick….

Anyways….fuck…okay…

I have never gotten a stomach bug in my life. Not a bad one anyway. So I’m gonna pretend, if I WERE to be there with you (moans), it’d be as an innocent bystander. Maybe I don’t go with you, but I see you from across the tent and think you’re cute. I’m already turned on from watching people get sick all around us. Poor babes. Such poor tummy’s. So weak…not strong like mine ;)

The music is loud, and despite the chaos, I’ve been watching you wrestle with your tummy for the last hour. I’ve been paying attention to your stomach slowly bloating, the heave of your chest as you hiccup and burp, the way your hands brush innocently against your gut. I can tell you’re either clueless about your belly ache, or lying to yourself.

When the stranger hurls his insides in front of you, I remind myself to thank him if I see him because I know you’ll soon have your first trip down the hurl train to. And of course, I’m right. I watch you puke all over your shoes, barely missing the guy who puked on you. Using the moment as my opportunity, I approach you quickly and encircle my arms around your waist.

“I’ve got you, don’t worry. Let’s get you back to your tent,” I whisper in your ear. I rub your sides as we walk, you wipe your mouth every so often, but otherwise your arms are wrapped tightly around your belly. I feel your belly gurgle and the hiccups build. You softly moan, the short trip making you feel worse.

When we get to your tent, I gently strip you. “We’ll keep your clothes for when you’re well. You’ll mess them in this state, and then what will you wear?” Each movement you make causes a cramp and painful gas, making you pause, but you do as I say. Despite not knowing each other long, you’re already begging for me to rub your sore tummy, to pop the sick bubbles and let up the gas trapped inside you. Your shyness is nowhere in sight. You’re blinded by your horrible infected belly.

“Where are your trash bags?” You point with a soft moan. In the quiet of the tent, we can both hear your belly’s sick groans and gurgles. I grab a bag and hold you in my lap, opening the bag in front of you.

Without warning, I press into your rock hard belly. You gag and a flow of sick comes up and into the trash bag. “I knew you needed to release. Your tummy can’t even handle a little stomach bug. Look,” I put my hand over your lower tummy. “You’re already filling back up.”

Over the course of the night, you go back and forth from my lap puking, to crouching over a hole, clutching your stomach and moaning or praying to god to make it stop while I tease you and press hard into your tummy, making matters (and the mess) worse.

Must’ve been one hell of a festival…shit

[satansapostle6]

The Man Who Sold The World | Luke Castellan

Spotify Playlist Link

Katherine. She was the one who started it all for Luke Castellan, the reason he did what he did.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Chapter Three

Chapter Four: A Dance With The Devil

It had been four days, nearly a week since Luke had last seen Katherine. They had worked out a plan for rendezvous: Katherine would keep the Camaro parked at a specially marked spot in the woods, about a mile from the camp. He still hadn’t gotten the chance to go and meet Katherine yet, which he found himself strangely disappointed about.

But, he had finally gotten himself an excuse to leave Camp Half-Blood for a short while. Luckily, he’d walked down the hill for about half an hour to find that Katherine was waiting by the Camaro, per the note he’d left on her windshield on his last patrol of the camp.

“Sandy!” Luke joked, seeing her in a black cafe racer jacket.

Despite coming from completely different backgrounds, and being completely different people, they still had music and movies in common.

“Tell me about it, stud,” she rolled her eyes. “So, what’s new with you? What’d you get?”

“Some weapons, shields, and stuff to help us in the Underworld... What did you get?” he asked in turn.

“Just some odds and ends I needed to stock up on,” Katherine stated. “Here. I had these made.”

Luke looked at her curiously as she handed him a stack of driver’s licenses she’d made using a photo she’d asked him to have taken by one of the children of Apollo who specialized in fake license photos.

“Whoa. Where’d you get these?” he asked her. “I know a few people who can get fakes made, but I’ve never seen anything this convincing.”

“I told you, I have my contacts,” she shrugged.

He carefully examined the fake licenses, looking at all the smaller details. Each license used its own fake name, and listed an eerily accurate height of 6’1”.

“Really? I’m 21?” Luke raised an eyebrow.

“We gotta let off some steam at some point,” Katherine reminded him.

“You’re sure you don’t wanna become part of the camp?” he asked. “It’d make things a lot easier.”

“Nah, I like living out of my car,” she reminded him. “I like the privacy.”

“Yeah, something tells me living in the Hermes cabin with me, the other Hermes kids, and all the other minor gods’ children and the unclaimed doesn’t exactly sound like a step up,” he admitted, not fond of the idea himself.

“Oh, we’d be sharing a cabin?” she joked, a playful grin on her face.

“Well. There is a rule that specifically states that a male and female camper can’t be left alone in a cabin,” he quipped, open to the banter.

“That’s not very progressive,” Katherine pouted.

“Not everyone’s as forward-thinking as us,” he offered.

“I could think of a few things we could look forward to,” she chuckled, her deep voice resonating.

“Like what?” his ears practically perked up in surprise.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she smiled. “Luke, I’d love to stay and chat, but I gotta meet up with a guy.”

“What, for more Celestial bronze?”

“No, credit cards,” she elaborated, “I have a few stolen ones, but they’ll only last me so long ‘til the owners notice. I have a guy that does fakes that pass.”

“Where the hell did you find all these guys?” Luke frowned.

“Networking, sweetie,” Katherine said dryly. “I gotta go. Let me know if you come up with an alibi.”

“That was what I was gonna tell you. I got them to give me in-and-out privileges without question,” he explained.

“What’d you tell them?”

“I told them I have a sick aunt back in Connecticut,” he said nonchalantly.

“Good one. Sick relative’s always a sympathy-getter. I gotta go. My guy’s waiting,” she climbed into the car.

“Meet me here tonight. At 8. We can leave then,” he told her.

“Alright. See ya,” Katherine drove off without a second thought.

Luke watched her drive off, already feeling an uncomfortable silence filling the air as she left. Katherine did come with plenty of silence, but somehow, to Luke, it was a preferable silence. He knew a lot of people at the camp, having been Head Counselor of Cabin 11 for years and lived there for even longer, but there few people at the camp he genuinely cared for, especially close to his own age.

Katherine Montalvo was one of the first people he’d ever met who actually understood what he had to say. She was also one of the first people he’d ever actually felt he was safe telling.

It was only a few minutes before 8:00 when Katherine arrived at her designated parking spot down the hill from Camp Half-Blood. She waited exhaustedly as Luke came down the hill, backpack slung over his shoulder and duffel bag in hand. The first thing he noticed about her was that her long ebony-colored waves were now confined in a surprisingly girlish French braid that fell in one sleek twist down her back.

“I’ll start the car,” Katherine nodded in approval.

“What happened to the Camaro?” Luke questioned, realizing she was now driving a silver Pontiac.

“Ran into some trouble. Don’t ask,” she sighed.

“Not asking,” he smiled. “Where to first?”

“I’m ready to head to Central Park,” she replied as they both climbed in. “What are your thinking?”

“I’m ready to go,” she sighed, irritably throwing off her jacket toward the backseat.

Luke watched her as she did, eyes playfully widened at the sight of her toned shoulders, which weren’t hidden by her hair for the first time he’d ever seen. Maybe, he thought, this might’ve been what school dress codes were warning against.

“Just gotta head to the store. I haven’t had the chance to grab more food.”

Luke didn’t ask her any further questions as she drove them to the closest convenience store, knowing better when it came to Katherine. He got out of the car with her, following her into the store. He noticed a large motorcycle parked outside, wondering who it belonged to.

Naturally, his question was quickly answered once he walked into the store and saw a large, surly biker with short black hair dressed in all leather. He eyed him cautiously, wondering if he’d prove to be any sort of problem.

Luke kept an eye on him as he walked behind Katherine.

“What kind of chips do you want?” she asked.

“Get whatever you want,” Luke told her, chipping in with some of the cash he’d brought with him.

“Spicy peanuts?” she called.

“Spicy peanuts,” Luke nodded insistently. “Never thought that would’ve been something I’d need.”

On the way out, Luke watched Katherine’s back, not appreciating the strange way the rough-looking biker was eyeing them. He stiffened as the man approached them, quickly tapping her arm to signal to her.

“Hey,” the quite literally giant man said gruffly.

“What do you want?” Luke asked him, not trusting him at all.

“Calm down kid,” the man said passively, “I’m not macking on your girl.”

Luke turned to the girl, a confused expression on his face. “Of course you’re not, I don’t think anyone has since 1987,” he scowled.

“Luke, shut up,” she sighed, switching her attention over to the man, “What do you want?” she questioned impatiently.

“You two kids are Half-Bloods, right?” the thirty-something year old biker asked.

Katherine’s eyes widened as her hand instinctively went to her lipstick tube in her pocket.

“What do you know about that?” she murmured.

“A lot,” he promised them. “I’ve made quite a few of ‘em myself. Say, sweetheart, you look real familiar to me.”

“I promise you, you don’t know either of us,” Luke said coldly.

“Wasn’t talking to you, blondie,” the man said, slowly creeping towards Katherine. “Oh… I do know you. I met you when I was hanging out with my girl. I knew it! I could never forget that face!”

“Katherine, do you know this guy?” Luke asked, his concern deepening.

“Luke,” she said under her breath, “This is between us.”

“Wait a minute, your name’s not Katherine,” the man said, his voice deepening dangerously as he examined the tall, thin girl. “No, that’s not it… It’s Rose, or Lily, or something, right? Some kind of flower?”

Katherine said nothing, just standing there awkwardly as the main tilted her chin up to get a good look at her.

“Daisy. That’s it,” he purred. “Daisy Montalvo. That’s your real name. I remember you… the scared little girl living on the street. Boy, you seem to be doing pretty good for yourself now. You got a car, and a boyfriend…”

Luke watched in horror as the once strong and confident Katherine practically flinched at the mention of the name. Had she really lied to him about her name? If she had, he had no idea what sort of thing about her past she could’ve been hiding. After all, she’d already told him she’d killed a person. If that was even true.

“Katherine, we need to go,” Luke urged her, not liking the sinister energy between the two.

“Beat it, kid, I wanna talk to Daisy here,” the biker interjected angrily. “You still have that lipstick my girlfriend gave you?”

Katherine nodded wordlessly as Luke looked at her in surprise.

“His girlfriend gave you that spear?” he asked her. “Who even is this guy?”

“Ares!” she whispered, shooting him an angry stare. “Lady Aphrodite gave me that spear. This is Ares, alright?! Now shut the fuck up before you get us both killed!”

“Listen to your little sweetheart, Duke,” the god of war warned him.

“You’re Ares?” Luke asked him skeptically.

“Mm-hmm,” the man crossed his arms, not-so-subtly flexing his arms as the pupils of his eyes were replaced with bright orange flames.

Luke didn’t question him any further.

“Now, Daisy. What have you two gotten yourselves into?”

“Nothing,” Katherine responded coolly. “We’re just passing through.”

“I don’t buy it,” he insisted. “You two are up to something.”

“We’re not up to anything, Lord Ares,” Luke promised, not necessarily sure how to address the immortal god.

“Relax, I didn’t say I wasn’t into it,” he reassured them. “How would you two like to earn a gift from me?”

“Like what?” Katherine asked cautiously.

Ares, the god of violence, bared his jagged, less-than-white teeth in an almost animalistic grin.

“Anything you want,” he promised, leering like a cartoon villain.

“Swear it,” Katherine said immediately. “On the River Styx.”

Luke remained silent, fearing that Ares would lash out at her, which he was definitely known for doing. Luckily, her gall only seemed to amuse the war god.

“I’ll tell you what, girlie. I’ll make you a deal. We can both swear it on the river, that if you do the one thing I ask you to do, without your little bodyguard here interfering, I’ll get you whatever you want, wherever in the world it might be,” he chuckled mischievously.

“Deal,” Katherine decided with finality.

“Hey,” Luke warned, lightly grabbing her arm, “I don’t like this…”

“Hey, you know we could use all the tools we can get,” she reminded him.

“But do you really wanna do whatever he wants you to do?” he asked.

“Yeah. I do. Because it’s up to me,” Katherine told him.

“Why do you wanna help us?” Luke asked.

“Because. Whatever it is you two are doing, I’m sure my dad’ll love it,” Ares laughed heartily. “I love family drama.”

“I swear on the River Styx that if I accept your deal, and do as you say in exchange for what I want, Luke Castellan won’t interfere in any way,” Katherine vowed impulsively. “Now you swear.”

“Hey!” Luke exclaimed, not particularly thrilled that his full name was invoked in a sacred promise on the River Styx.

“That’s the Daisy we know and love,” Ares laughed, his laughter somehow cold and scorching at the exact same time. “You’ve got spunk, kid. I’ll give you that… I swear on the River Styx that, if you do what I’m about to ask of you, I’ll procure and give to you whatever existing object you want,” he granted, seeming satisfied.

Luke was in awe of Katherine’s trust in the god of war of all people, feeling as if she had some sort of death wish. He couldn’t imagine someone as smart and strategic as Katherine putting their faith in this pompous 80’s movie villain.

“Then quit fucking around and tell me what I have to do,” she stared up at him, eyes spiteful and insinuating.

“Katherine!” Luke exclaimed for the umpteenth time. “Shut up?!”

“Holy shit, you’ve got a mouth on you, kid, I love it!” Ares raved. “Nobody talks to me like this! Shit. Alright. First, I gotta get us to where we actually need to be. Here.”

Before Luke and Katherine knew what was happening, Ares had made a point of snapping his fingers and transporting the three of them, in addition to their vehicles, to an undisclosed location. He looked around in confusion, not recognizing the suburban neighborhood they were now standing in, in the dark.

“Where are we?” he asked, surveying his surroundings.

Katherine, however, didn’t seem confused at all.

“What are we doing here?” she looked up at the god, seeming even more on edge. “I said I’d never go back here!”

“That’s the catch, girlie,” Ares reminded her with a grin. “I never said the task was gonna be easy.”

She sighed, realizing she was in a bind. “You know what? Fuck it. Just tell me what you want me to do,” she gave in.

“Is—Is this where you used to live?” Luke asked her.

She refused to answer the question, not taking her eyes off of Ares.

“What do I have to do?” she demanded.

“Simple,” he began mischievously, “Go in… And get that teddy bear.”

Even in the dark, Luke could see Katherine Montalvo’s face go pale as he finished speaking.

“Why do you want me to get that thing?!” she yelled. “I don’t want it!”

Luke had no idea why she seemed so opposed to the simple request, but something told him that the answer to that question was something long and twisted.

“I know you don’t,” Ares taunted her, “That’s why I want you to.”

“You’re sadistic,” Luke cut in furiously, “She’s not playing your sick game!”

“Like hell she isn’t!” Ares shouted at him, fiery pupils reappearing and igniting the darkness. “She wants that prize! She’ll do anything for it!”

“Stay out of this, Luke. I’m doing this for us,” Katherine promised him, her demeanor softening to appeal to his reasoning. “Just let me go in, and get what he wants me to get. Don’t intervene; I swore on the River Styx. You don’t wanna know what happens if you make me break that promise,” she urged him, genuine fear in her eyes.

“…Okay,” Luke agreed shakily, “I trust you.”

“Good,” she nodded, seeming relaxed by the promise.

“But I’m coming with you,” he insisted.

“Fine by me,” Ares said indifferently. “I can make us both invisible. All you gotta do is go in, and get your teddy bear, Daisy.”

“Fine,” she spat, turning to Luke. “I’ll be fine. I promise. Just don’t do anything, and everything will be okay. I’ll get us what we need to find him.”

“Okay,” Luke nodded, feeling as if he were saying some sort of goodbye, “I trust you.”

He said the words a second time, not knowing what else he could say to urge her to make it back.

-

Chapter Five

[beewithknee]

of insecurity and worship

day 6 of redactober !

vincent/lovely fluff (and fade-to-black-smut)

Lovely stood naked in front of the mirror. Hands roamed over a body that was supposedly theirs. It had all their features, responded to all their movements, connected to all their nerves. But it wasn’t theirs.

Not fully.

It hadn’t been for a long time. Since the early childhood days others had forced their marks onto Lovely’s body, marking tiny sections as ‘not-mine’.

It grew from scratches to scars, from kisses to bruises. Growing and gathering until they were nothing short of an amalgamation of other’s identities; stories they would rather forget.

Some were more obvious: the physical scars of trauma and accidents that time would never heal. Some less so, the internal wounds that were almost always more devastating than the visible ones.

They had tried not to, but seeing their Prince standing with such gorgeous people made them question their own worth.

Those types of people tasted like honey. They felt like glass, delicate and special. They sounded like music and looked even softer. No one flinched when those types of people took off their clothes.

Lovely was not. In the end, they were the antithesis of those people. They were broken. Cracked and chipped. Laid bare to be forgotten, winced at, looked over.

“Lovely. What are you doing?” Their husband called softly, body leaning against their doorframe. His arms were crossed, forcing his chest to stick out. They wondered if he ever thought about leaving them for someone better.

Shaking their head, they moved swiftly away from the mirror. The horrific reflection flittered out of sight.

“Just getting changed.” They laughed. It was hollow to their own ears. They couldn’t lie, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t tell half-truths. He moved almost silently, though he purposefully slowed enough to make sure they were aware of his movements.

“What’s really going on?” He questioned softly, hands sliding into place over theirs. The shirt in their grasp fell to the floor. They kept their head down, gaze locked onto the very-interesting shirt that crumpled to the floor.

Fitting.

Subconsciously, they moved their eyes back to the mirror, and winced. “Fuck.”

“C’mon baby. Talk to me.” Squeezing their hands, he brought them back to the mirror.

An arm wrapped around their middle, another looped across their shoulder and down their side. His head came to rest in the junction of their neck.

A delicate kiss had them leaning back into the strong embrace.

“I’m just sick of feeling broken and wondering if I’m good enough.” Their lower lip trembled traitorously. It was somehow easier to voice all their feelings in the darkness.

It was comforting in a way.

“What?” He breathed out, a puff of hot air tickled their neck. “Of course you’re good enough. Where is this coming from?”

Scoffing harshly, “C’mon, you’re not stupid. Everyone has seen you with the people at that party tonight. Any one of them looked far better on your arm than I ever have. Even before…” They trailed off, voice breaking. Dark gazes met in the reflection.

Anger and acceptance.

“No.”

A squeal was ripped from their throat as they were hoisted up and flung onto the bed. “Oof-, wow okay.” A giggle burst forward, unexpected in the face of their lover’s vampiric speed.

Lips met theirs. It was brutal but beautiful. Hot and calm. Complete juxtapositions all at once.

“Vincent, wait. What’s gotten into you?” Lovely gasped, hands coming to find purchase on his face. His eyes searched in theirs for a few long moments.

“My partner doesn’t think they’re good enough. I call bullshit. But I know actions are louder than words. So… ‘m gonna prove it to you.” He promised, fingertips tracing down their naked torso.

His teeth caught at their throat, sucking a mark into the flesh beneath them. Lovely moaned, body arching up into the addicting touch.

“Vince-" “Shh, let me prove something to you.” That voice was dark, tinted with danger, lust and promises of something good.

“Tell me why you think you’re not good enough.” He demanded, still marking his territory across their chest and neck.

Unable to lie, the words tumbled from their lips, “Because you’re a Prince. You look so fucking good and I’m left off to the side like some little bitch. It isn’t your fault, but I just wonder if you’re gonna leave me. After all, I was fucked up from Adam, and my old life; but now this.” Their free hand gestured to their body, the remnants of the damage caused by the inversion.

Vincent peeled himself off them, using some of his strength to keep his body parallel to theirs but hovering above.

His eyes roamed every inch of their skin, taking it in. They suddenly felt very exposed.

“Don’t you dare.” He warned as theirs hands came up to shield themself. “Lovely, you are… the single most exquisite beauty I have ever had the privilege of laying my eyes upon. Not only are you fucking sexy, but you’re gorgeous in a way that words cannot do justice to.” He kissed their lips, soft and sweet. He kissed them like he was trying to make them believe him.

“You’re caring.” A kiss to their nose.

“You’re brave.” A nip to their chin.

“You’re mine.” A bite to their neck.

“You are my everything and more. You are kind, smart, beautiful, funny, and you have made my life so much better just by existing in it.” He swore, trailing kisses and nips over their heart and lungs.

Vincent made his spouse feel the weight behind each one of his words. “I will never leave you. You are not broken. You are my partner.” His breath ghosted their outer thighs. Vincent adored the way Lovely shivered under his movements. It satisfied some primal part of him to know he was the one causing that reaction.

“I have never, and will never, care about your scars. Internal or external. They’re part of what makes you so… Lovely.” They smiled at his idiocy, tears streaking down their cheeks. Festering black tendrils of shame, hatred and insecurity retreated slightly; relinquishing their hold on Lovely’s heart with each word.

They leaned up, taking Vincent’s face between their hands, “I love you.” “I love you too.” Their kiss was the type written in fairytales. The Princess Bride was a close equivalent, Vincent thought happily.

“I’m never leaving you.” He swore, thumb swiping away the few remaining tears that glistened under their pretty eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere either.” It was a nice reassurance, especially considering neither could lie to the other.

Vincent chuckled, hand worming its way down to their sensitive thighs again, “Actually I might if I can’t get my mouth on you in the next few minutes.”

They groaned, flinging themself backwards and laughing. Always one to ruin a moment, their Vincent.

Their Husband.

Forever.

[illarian-rambling]

For the ask game:

🧡- what's your character's worst irrational fear?

💚- What does your character like to wear? Why do they wear the clothes they do?

🖤- What kind of music would your character listen to?

💕- What's your character's fatal flaw?

❤️‍🔥- Would you character go to heaven or hell? Where do they think they'd go?

Oh my, thank you! These are a lot (not a complaint) so I'll just answer for the original Mortal God cast

🧡- What's your character's worst irrational fear?

Astra's worst irrational fear is losing her ability to do magic somehow. This is irrational because book magic isn't intrinsic like sorcery. It'd be like being worried about forgetting how to read.

Mashal is dead terrified of bugs. This might seem strange for a (basically) robot, but it's not the biting or stinging that gives him the heebie jeebies. It's the idea of bugs getting into his chassis and him not noticing until they've laid a bunch of eggs in there. He's always paranoid during the fall about june bugs, because those suckers get into everything.

Ivander is scared of the dark. This might seem kind of childish, but Ivander is a son of the city. Before the events of the story, he'd never even left Unity, a city famous for its street lamps. The idea of true, croaking, country darkness unnerves him.

💚- What does your character like to wear? Why do they wear the clothes they do?

Astra is probably the only one of my characters with a signature look. She is always wearing a long coat of plum silk, with fanciful gold embroidery and slashed sleeves with crimson fabric beneath, many bows and bits of lace poking out at various places. The lining is plastered with hundreds of multicolored ribbons, each stitched with a specific rune. She can pull these rune ribbons from her cuffs or hem to throw at people, producing some magical effect or another. She does this because embroidering her runes beforehand makes it so she doesn't have to spend the first half of every fight painstakingly drawing a single fire rune. Also, cloth and thread can survive the elements a bit better than paper and ink. Astra is very proud of her gaudy coat, as it sets her apart from the licensed book magic she despises.

Mashal goes for baggier clothes, as anything too tight will get caught in his metal joints and rip. He wears a bandana tied over his scalp because he's sad he has no hair. In general, he covers up as much of his bronze plating as he can. He doesn't want it getting scuffed or scratched.

Ivander, the pompous lordling he is, wears a three piece suit to every occasion. And I mean every occasion. The man robbed a grave in a cravat once. He prefers satin, as it irritates his skin less, and he's gotten it down to a science which colors flatter his blue-tinged skin. He always wears his silver, onyx-headed tie pin, which carries his illusion. He grew up being forced to dress finely and never really lost the habit. He does legitimately also just like dressing like a fop.

🖤- What kind of music would your character listen to?

I'll just include some examples :)

Astra: You Make Me Sick! by Ashnikko, Monstarr by Ennaria, Depression by Hillbilly Moon Explosion , and Garbageman by The Cramps

Basically, just anything she could tinker to while listening at egregious volumes to keep her energy up. She'd definitely dance around a bit too, while working on stuff. It's canon that Astra loves music, she just lives in a time where jazz is only now being introduced. This is what she'd listen to with all of our modern music at her fingertips.

Mashal: Call Me, Call Me by Steve Conte, Space Age Love Song by Flock of Seagulls, Chain of Fools by Aretha Franklin, and Out of Touch by Daryl Hall and John Oates

The man likes love songs, what can I say. His taste is a lot chiller than Astra's, and played at a much quieter volume. He definitely would stay up late, all in his feels while listening to music. I would peg him as a Swiftie, but I don't listen to enough Taylor Swift to know.

Ivander: Far More Blue by The Dave Brubeck Quartet, Misty by Erroll Garner, Glad to be Unhappy by Paul Desmond, and Lullaby by Ray Bryant

He's a jazz snob, no two ways about it. Unlike some jazz snobs, he does legitimately enjoy the music, but he also very much enjoys flaunting his 'refined taste.' I think he'd play Watermelon Man by Herbie Hancock, and Mashal would legitimately lose his mind.

💕- What is your character's fatal flaw?

Astra's fatal flaws are two-fold. Her lack of self-confidence translates into pride as an overcompensation. That pride gets her into serious trouble when she's too stubborn to let it go and show the uncertainty beneath.

Mashal's fatal flaw, I would say, is his habit of making decisions for other people. Yes, there's his drive for revenge at all costs, but that has kept him alive through many a tight spot. When he decides he knows what's best and chooses something for someone that they might not want is when things get messy.

Ivander’s fatal flaw is his unwillingness to ask for help. He thinks he has to do everything by himself because that's how the world has treated him for the most part. However, he'll learn that if he crumbles under the weight of a burden he insisted on bearing alone, he might just take some other people along with him.

❤️‍🔥- Would your character go to heaven or hell? Where do you think they'd go?

Astra prays, when she bother to pray, to Erani, the Illarian goddess of ambition. This is a good fit, and Astra would hope she'd end up in the goddess's heaven. She will, as she ends up fulfilling her ambition, which is all Erani cares about.

Mashal is an adherent to Loqang, the god of loyalty - a common path of worship for Illarian soldiers. He worries about going to hell, since after his incident, he doesn't remember the oath he swore when he became a knight of Sulu'Oku. However, Loqang is a cool guy, and he respects loyalty to one's friends just as much as loyalty to an institution or code, so Mashal is getting into heaven.

Ivander has long been promised to Timaz, the god of greed, and since he's very aware that he's gotten on the god's bad side, he lives with the knowledge that he's condemned to hell. There's not a lot he can do about that. From my perspective, he's made friends with a halawemavish spirit of secrets, so maybe she can pull some strings.

Hope you all enjoyed this one!