#a thanks and then doing that would be fine (RHIS IS A JOKE)

[qualityrain]

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 36

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Ophelia Riorson)

The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

I’m thankful Garrick had gone full mother hen all those months ago, meaning I had flight leathers here to change into instead of my dress uniform. Though I know Garrick would not have minded seeing me in that again tonight. Garrick who had gone to let Xaden know what was going on. Something I did not want to go do with the lighting we had seen while pulling on our flight leathers as fast as we could. And with how close it was I knew they we’re next door to us right now. Thank god for silencing wards.

I slip into the hallway full of riders. Everyone rushing everywhere. A mix of flight leathers and dress uniforms rushing down to the rotunda. A familiar hand grasps mine and I look up to see Garrick looking down at me, a tight lipped smile on his face. We both knew the chances for him getting sent out to defend against the attack were high. And with graduation not far away, this could cut out last few days together extremely short. With a quick kiss to the top of my head, Garrick heads off towards the rest of leadership forming at the top of the Dais while I join the rest of my squad. As I step into place next to Imogen I notice the smirk on her face.

”What are you smirking at? We’re being attacked.” I ask Imogen.

She chuckles and shakes her head. “Oh I know. But I see your plan worked. Better than expected as well.” She teases as she takes in my appearance. Which I’m sure is slightly dishevelled.

I can’t help but smirk back despite the situation. “The out come was definitely better than expected.”

Movement catches my eye as Ridoc and Violet slot into formation. Violet who is clad in a jacket that is far too big for her.

”Looks like I’m not the only one.” I say to Imogen, nodding my head towards Violet.

Imogen follows my gaze and chuckles. “Good to see they sorted out whatever was going on.”

”I wouldn’t go that far just yet.” I joke earning a proper laugh from her causing the others to look at us.

Rhiannon jogs up to us, taking her place between Violet and I. Her head whipping back as she takes in Violets appearance.

”Violet Sorrengail, are you wearing Riorson’s flight jacket?” She whispers, trying to keep her voice low.

I muffle a laugh as Liam’s head snaps towards Violet, clearly hearing Rhi’s comment. Violet looks over to me for help, probably hoping to say it was mine. But with those three stars and a wing leader emblem on them, there was no hope at passing it for mine. Also the fact it was freaking huge on her, and despite being taller, I was nowhere near as tall or big as Xaden. Nice try Violet.

”Why would you say that?” She mumbles as she fiddles with the jacket before shoving her hands into the pockets.

”Oh I don’t know. Because it’s huge on you.” Rhi points out as she pulls at the leather.

”Also three stars on the collar.” I point out, joining in on the chaos that was forming.

”It could be any third-year’s.” She says while shrugging. A miserable attempt at trying to throw us off.

”And with a Fourth Wing emblem on the shoulder?” Rhi cocks her eyebrow at Violet. She was not fooling any of us.

I watch as Violet swallows nervously. “That does limit it a bit.”

”Oh and don’t forget the wingleader emblem beneath those stars.” I point out as I smile cheekily at Violet whose glaring daggers at Rhi and I.

”Fine, its his.” She whispers quickly as movement on the dais catches our attention.

Up front Commandant Panchek takes the dais, followed by Colonel Aetos and the wingleaders. Despite how calm and collected Xaden looks, I can tell he is pissed. Something about this situation feels off. I reach out with my mind, all four wingleaders are annoyed and irritated. While Panchek and Aetos seem quite proud of what ever is about to happen. Too calm for us to be under attack.

”I knew it!” Rhi whispers excitedly. “Tell me it’s good.”

”I do not need to hear about you fucking my brother!” I exclaim, Rhi waving me off dismissively.

”I broke his window.” She winces as her cheeks start to flush.

”Like…. you threw something at it?” Rhi’s brow furrowing as she tries to figure out why or how Violet broke a window. I already know how. Her signet.

”No. As in, lighting struck…. A lot, and I shattered his window.” She mutters before looking towards where he stands on the dais. “And look, there he is now, all calm, cool, and collected.”

”A word of advice Violet.” I say as she looks over at me. “Get use to it. He’s always been like that, even as a kid.”

She almost looks annoyed at my statement, but she must realise I’m right as she briefly nods before turning her gaze back to Xaden who is staring right at her.

But not for long as his gaze shifts to mine. His eyes going wide momentarily as his gaze trails over my hair. Taking in the now black strands. The corner of his mouth curves up in a slight smile as he nods approvingly before tearing his gaze from mine. I had hoped he’d see the hair under different circumstances, but this would have to do.

”Damn, I wish someone made me shatter windows.” Rhi says with a grin as she looks over at Xaden.

”Oh please, you’ve had way more-”

Rhi and I go to react at the same time as Dain approaches our squad, and close enough to see whose jacket Violet was wearing. Rhi being closer quickly leans into Violet and draping her arm around Violet so her hand hides Xaden’s insignia and rank from him. “Good morning, huh?”

I have to stop myself from cringing at her choice in words. I prayed Dain was as tired as the rest of us were and put her weird behaviour down to being drunk or over tired. And by the look he gives her I know that’s exactly what he’s thinking. Her behaviour distracting him from Violet easily.

”Not really, no.” He states dismissively as he scans us. “I know its early… or late, depending on your night, but we’ve spent all year training for this, so wake the hell up.”

As he turns to face Panchek I see Violet and Rhi sag in relief out of the corner of my eye. Thank god. If this had been any other day Dain would have be concerned about their behaviour.

”Riders Quadrant!” Panchek’s shout echoing around the rotunda. “Welcome to the last event of this year’s War Games.”

A murmur rips through the formation. My signet picking up on relief and annoyance mixed through the crowd at his words. He’d clearly interrupted a few riders plans this evening.

”The alert that was sounded is similar to what it would have been if this was a real-life attack. To see how fast you could muster, and we will continue this exercise as if it is. Were the borders to be simultaneously attacked, and the wards faltering, you would all be called into service to reinforce the wings. Colonel Aetos, would you do us the honour of reading the scenario?”

The Colonel steps forward, in a way so similar to me that I know I’ve seen Dain do it before. It was almost eerie how similar he acted to his dad.

”The moment we’ve dreaded has arrived. The wards we’ve dedicated our lives to upholding are falling, and there has been an unprecedented, multilevel attack along our borders, putting villages under siege from drifts of gryphon riders. Mass casualties among civilians and infantry are already being reported, as are the deaths of multiple riders.”

I had to give it to him. He was laying on the dramatics pretty thick for this. If they hadn’t revealed this was War Games it would almost be believable.

”As we would if you were a battle-ready force, we are sending your wings in every direction.” His eyes scanning across the four wings assembled before him, before landing on fourth wing. “Fourth Wing to the south east. Each squad will pick which outpost they will reinforce within that region. Choices are first come, first served. Wingleaders, however, will be assigned to theirs for the purposes of determining a headquarters for this exercise.”

Something is off. Something is wrong about this. Colonel Aetos’s eyes scan over the wings before turning to Xaden. My heart drops as their eyes meet and the way the Colonel smiles at him.

”Riorson, you’ll establish your headquarters for Fourth Wing at Athebyne.”

I barely register the rest of his words. Other than Xaden is the only windleader told where to go. And to a place I know he’s been with helping the rebellion. Athebyne. Xaden’s face remains calm. But I feel the way his fear rises to the surface as I reach out to him. The Colonel knew. And with the way his eyes locked onto Dain before moving to Xaden’s I knew it was because of him. As I look to Dain his face reveals nothing. But I note how scared he is as well. Definitely behind Xaden being sent to Athebyne. I feel something nudge my hand and I look over to see Imogen look at me. We both know what’s just happened. They’ve found us out. They’re sending Xaden beyond the wards to hopefully die. And if that’s his head quarters that means…. I snap my gaze to the front of our section to see Garrick already looking at me.

They know don’t they? I ask even though I know the answer, but needing confirmation of my thoughts.

Garrick slowly nods. Yeah. They know.

You’ll be going with him. Won’t you?

Where he goes I go.

I go to object, but Dain is already giving us orders.

”We’re going to claim the outpost at Eltuval, the northermost one in our assigned region,” He informs us as he turns to face us all as Rhi drapes her arm over Violet again.

It’s then I notice the fear in Violet’s eyes. Something she shouldn’t be feeling. She shouldn’t know about Athebyne. But she does. The look in her eyes tell me she does. Xaden told her. Xaden and Garrick we’re going to kill me for doing this, but I had to know. And if Xaden had trusted her to know, then he trusted her with my signet.

You know about Athebyne don’t you?

To her credit she barely flinches as I speak in her mind, her eyes snapping to mine.

Yes. How… Is this your signet?

Only a small part of it. When did he tell you?

Her brow furrows as she recalls the memory. The night I killed Jack.

Swear to me you told no one. Because if you have anythin-

I didn’t tell anyone. I swear. I promised I wouldn’t.

Good.

I retract from her mind as formation breaks, everyone rushing to be flight ready and on the field in thirty minutes. A very rushed thirty minutes at that. Thanks to my stuff being split between mine and Garrick’s room. But despite rushing between the two, I don’t run into him. Probably just missing him due to going to my room first. Also missing my squad who have already left when I make it back to the first year floor. Leaving me to make the walk to the flight field on my own. Which I honestly needed despite how much I wanted to see Garrick, and even Xaden before they left. I knew they could handle anything thrown their way, but something about the way the Colonel had smiled and the look in his eye told me there was something at play here. And there was nothing we could do to stop it from happening.

As I walk into the flight field I can’t help but be in awe at the sight before me. Every single dragon in the quadrant is in the flight field, assembled in the exact formation we keep in the rotunda. The only exceptions being Tairn and Mealladh who stand either side of Cath, as if reminding him he’s not the most powerful dragon in the squad. What surprises me though is the small golden dragon at Tairn’s feet. Andarna. I’d barely seen her since Violet had bonded her, due to being too small to keep up with the bigger dragons just yet.

As I fall into spot next to Violet, Dain begins his probably well planned out speech. “Second Squad! Prepare for a four hour first leg of our flight. We’ll need to keep a tight formation for the first fifteen minutes as the squads disperse.” Something behind Violet and I catches his eye as he looks past us. “Wingleader?”

Violet and I turn eerily in sync to see Xaden striding towards our squad, Garrick a few steps behind.. A look of determination on both their faces. They aren’t here to say goodbye. Xaden has something planned, and I know it’s about to involve us and annoy Dain. But it wasn’t hard to do the latter.

”How can I help you?” Dain snaps out, straightening his shoulders and adjusting his stance to try appear bigger and taller next to those two.

Xaden ignores him as he turns to Violet and I. “I need you two.”

”I’m sorry?” Dain retorts, stepping forward.

”Relax, he just wants to say goodbye.” Violet explains, but the flicker of amusement in Xaden’s eyes tells me all I need to know. We’re going with him.

”If you’re saying goodbye, it’s to him.” He corrects her as he nods towards Dain. “I’m constructing my headquarters squad and you two are coming with me. So are Liam and Imogen.”

Despite not reaching for any emotions, Dain’s anger flairs at the edge of my mind. “The fuck you are. Violet’s a first year and Athebyne is beyond the wards.”

Xaden just blinks at him as Garrick steps forward. “I don’t hear you giving me the same argument about Mairi and Riorson.”

”Liam is the one of the best cadets among the first years, even with him assigning him guard duty over Violet.” Dain argues back at Garrick, crossing his arms across his chest as if trying to imitate Garrick’s stance

”And Sorrengail wields lightning. And Ophelia can do a lot more than you know.” Xaden counters, causing Dain to look over at me. Dain who still has no idea what I can do, but looks surprised Xaden knows. Idiot. Why wouldn’t my brother know. “And not that I owe you an explanation, second year, because I don’t, but Sgaeyl and Tairn can’t be separated for longer than a few days-”

”That you know of!” Dain exclaims as he cuts Xaden off. “Or can you honestly tell me Sgaeyl was at her wit’s end when you showed up at Monsterrat? You’ve never fully tested how long they can be apart.”

”Feel like asking her yourself?” Xaden challenges, arching a brow.

I can’t help but chuckle as Sgaeyl stalks forward, head low with a menacing gleam in her eyes. Blue Dragons were not to be messed with. But especially not Sgaeyl.

”Don’t do this. Riders are known to die during War Games and she’s safer with me. Anything could happen once we’re away from Basgiath, let alone you taking her beyond the wards.” Dain pleads.

I don’t miss the way he emphasises ‘Anything’. He knows what were about to go up and face. A sentence only meant for only for Xaden.

”I’m not dignifying that with a response. This is an order..”

Dain narrows his eyes at Xaden, his anger hitting me like a tidal wave. “Or has this been your plan all along? To separate her from her squad so you can use her to get your need for revenge on her mother?”

”Dain! You know that’s not going to happen” She says while shaking her head at him.

”Do I?” He snaps back at her. “He’s made a big deal out of the whole if-she-dies-I-die thing, but do you know it for a fact? Do you know Tairn won’t survive your death? Or has it all been a ploy to earn your trust, Violet?”

Violet sucks in a sharp breath as he words definitely hit a nerve. She goes to retort, but I quickly step between them, standing toe to toe with Dain.

”Pick your next words wisely Aetos. Or you might not have any more to say.” I warn him, the ground shaking as Mealladh stalks forward like Sgaeyl did, positioning herself behind Dain. I don’t miss how Cath almost cowers away now Sgaeyl and Mealladh are involved.

”Please, do quit while you’re behind, Aetos,” Xaden seethes behind me. “You want the truth? She’s a fuck of a lot safer with me beyond the wards than she is with you within them. We both know it.”

I turn to see Xaden looking at Dain with a look I had seen in our fathers eyes many times before. He would do whatever it took to dispose of whatever stands between them and what they want. And right now Dain is what stands in his way. The only reason he hasn’t is because of Violet. Their friendship might be strained right now, but he still means something to her.

”Stop.” Violet states as she steps forward, putting her hand on Xaden’s arm. “Xaden, stop. If you want me to go with you, I’ll go. It’s that simple.”

As his eyes shift to Violet they immediately soften. He was wrapped around her finger. I knew because Garrick gave me the same look.

”No fucking way.” Dain whispers, in disbelief as to what is happening. Also not missing the look in Xaden’s eyes as he looks at Violet.

As Violet drops her hand from his arm I know she’s realised he’s made the same connection. “Dain….”

”Him?” Dain’s eyes widening as they dart between Violet and Xaden. “You and…. him?” He shakes his head as if trying to wake himself up from a bad dream. “People talk, and I thought that’s all it was, but you….”

I go to step up to Dain again but Garrick grips my shoulder, pulling me back towards him. He clearly knows I’m about two seconds away from punching Dain in the face.

”Don’t go, Violet. Please. He’s going to get you killed.”

”I know you think Xaden has ulterior motives, but I trust him. He’s had every opportunity and has never hurt me. At some point you have to let this go.”

We all stand in silence as she steps towards Dain, both just looking at each other. Despite how much I dislike Dain and how he’s acted towards me, I can’t help but feel sorry at the hurt I see in his eyes before he quickly masks it. “If he’s what you choose…. Then I guess that has to be enough for me, doesn’t it?

She nods. “Yes.”

He quickly leans in to whisper something before pivoting on his heel and walking towards Cath who is still cowering.

”That could have gone worse.” Garrick mutters behind me.

”It could have also gone a lot better.” I retort as he snickers at my remark.

”Get ready. We have a long ride ahead.” He tells me, placing a brief kiss to the top of my head before turning on his heel and following after Xaden.

”I made the right decision. Right?” Violet asks as she watches Xaden walk away from her, not even glancing at Dain.

I smile at her and nod which seems to ease her nerves about what just happened. “He might be my brother, but regardless of that, I think you made the better choice. You need someone who will help you flourish and grow. Dain wouldn’t let that happen.”

”Yeah… you’re right.”

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta @lovemesomevesey @mxtokko @krowiathemythologynerd @callsign-blue @1islessthan3books @side-angel @wolfbc97 @just-an-ace-elf

[sacredjake]

Peanut Butter Blossom

pairing: Sam Kiszka x Rhi

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none! pure fluff, some cussing

merry (late) christmas @lightsofthe-living-gvf!!!! i’m your secret santa! i wanna apologize for being late, this christmas has been crazy! i’ve enjoyed getting to know you and talking about some of our favorite shared interests!!! i hope you like it! i hope you had a wonderful holiday, merry christmas rhi <3333

—————————————————————————

There was a loud ding from the oven signaling that the cookies you had put in were finally done. You turned the oven off and grabbed the oven mit from the counter before opening the door and taking the sweet smelling treat out. You set them on the stovetop to allow them to cool for a moment and grabbed the cooling racks out of the nearest cabinet. One by one you transferred each cookie from the baking sheet onto the cooling rack. 

When each cookie was moved to the elevated rack you decided to check on the chicken and dumpling soup you had made. The dish was basically done, just requiring a gentle stir every now and then until it was time to be served. Thankfully the crockpot you made it in would keep the contents nice and warm while you made the short drive to your best friend’s house. 

Tonight was the annual friendsmas that you and your friends put together. Each person would bring a dish for a sort of potluck style dinner along with a gift for the game White Elephant. You had the honor of bringing the main dish this year- as volunteered by your friends. You had hosted the party the previous year and made the same chicken and dumpling recipe and everyone had insisted that you make it again this year. The dish was one of your favorites to make so you didn’t mind in the slightest, and were actually excited that they had loved it so much. 

You had been looking forward to this event since your best friends had left on tour. You were also extremely nervous to see one friend in particular. Sam had been your best friend for a few years, and you had always had a crush on him. The two of you hadn’t seen each other in almost four months and you couldn’t calm the butterflies in your stomach. 

Without needing much more to do to get ready, once the cookies were cooled and you were finally dressed, you loaded up your contributions to the party in your car. Snow crunched underneath your feet as you made your way around to your driver’s door. You were just glad it wasn’t actively snowing. 

A few minutes later you were pulling into your best friend’s driveway right behind a white jeep truck you could only assume was Josh’s. With slightly shaky hands, you began unloading the items you had brought, having much more difficulty getting them out than you did putting them in. For whatever reason, most likely the nerves from seeing Sammy again, you couldn’t remember how exactly you had carried everything out to your car, and there was no way you were going to be able to carry it all. Just when you were about to give up and make another trip outside in the cold, a voice rang out. 

“I can’t believe Josh beat yo- Rhi, why didn’t you just text me and ask for help!” Sam scolded you playfully, his long arm reaching over the car door easily and plucking the gift and bag of cookies from your hands. 

“I was doing just fine, thank you.” You lied cooling and prayed that your hands would stop shaking. With one hand free you were finally able to grasp the handles of your crockpot with ease. 

“Yeah because dropping the ginormous crockpot full of delicious chicken and dumplings is ‘doing just fine’.” He snickered.

Everything about Sam made your heart flutter, even his jokes and antics. 

“It was gonna work, I wasn’t gonna drop anything.” 

You followed behind him after shutting the car door with your foot, and walked up the walkway. No matter how many times you walked into Sam’s house it was always inviting. Although  it had little to do with the actual space itself. You knew it didn’t matter where Sam lived, anywhere he existed was home to you. 

Shortly after entering through the front door there were excited exclamations to be heard about your arrival. Josh, of course, was the loudest and first to be heard.  

“Rhi!” He nearly pushed his younger brother to the ground trying to reach you for a hug. Not even waiting for the reciprocation of the hug, his arms wrapped around you tightly. 

“Hi Josh.” You barely breathe out and pat his shoulder. He was squeezing you so tightly you weren’t sure how long you could go without air. 

“Jesus, Josh, loosen up, we haven’t seen her in almost four months and you’re gonna kill her.” Jake half teased his twin, and Josh’s hold on you loosened quickly. 

“Shit sorry, mama. I’ve just missed you so much!” 

“I missed you too, Josh.” You couldn’t help but giggle at his slightly overexcited state. 

Soon Josh was pushed away by his twin so he could steal a hug from you. While Sam and Danny were your best friends, you had gotten close with the twins after all the years. It was kind of hard not to when they were always around. 

“So glad to see you, Rhi. Hope you’re doing well.” Jake’s hug was a lot faster, and less forceful than Josh’s. You told him how happy you were to see everyone and how proud of them you were. 

“Hey now,” You could recognize the next man’s voice anywhere, even if you couldn’t see him, “Where’s my hug?” 

“Oh I’m sorry, were you expecting one?” There was only playful teasing laced in your voice. He knew it too. 

“My hugs are the only ones that matter.” 

“Well someone thinks awfully big of himself.” 

You were staring up at him with a large smile on your face, completely unable to keep it from showing. He mirrored your expression, his lips turned up in a crooked smile. Neither of you wanted to be the first to crack, but Danny always gave into you. The small crack of his smile grew into a wide grin followed by a playful roll of his eyes. 

“Just give me a hug, dammit! I’ve missed you!” 

Danny pulled you into him without a single protest from you. He wasn’t wrong though, his hugs were the only ones that mattered. Aside from Sammy’s, but that’s only because you were hopelessly in love with Sam. 

He squeezed you firmly and rocked you both from side to side before letting go. Danny couldn’t completely let you go though. He held the top of your arms and gazed down at you happily. 

“I’ve missed you so much, bug. You really gotta come join us for a show soon.” 

“I will, Danny. Soon.” 

“Good.” He pulled you in for one last quick hug as Sam entered back into the space. One again you could feel your heart rate pick up just from him being in the same room as you. 

“Alright everyone, all the food has been set up, so let’s make our plates and dig in! The faster we eat, the sooner we get to open gifts!” 

—————————————————

“Guys I can not make chicken and dumplings again next year! Three years in a row is enough!” 

“Aw c’mon, Rhi! Please!” Josh begged from across the table. Everyone else agreed. 

Dinner had been long consumed and everyone was still sitting at the dining table with their empty plates and bowls in front of them. Throughout the meal you couldn’t help the way your eyes naturally, and constantly drifted to Sam. You were glad Sam liked to talk a lot because it meant you had more of a reason to steal glances at him. There was much to catch up on between the boys and their band, their partners lives and your studies. Between eating and talking you hadn’t even gotten to the desert yet. 

“No, no. I think next year Jake should make the main dish!” 

“I resent being nominated, but I’ll do it.” 

You stood from your seat and waved him off before disappearing into the next room where all the deserts had been left. 

“Besides,” You walked back into the kitchen and shook the bag of cookies, “I brought cookies for everyone!” 

“Oh fuck yes! You make the best cookies!” Sam shook his fist excitedly from his seat. There were other rounds of praise coming from the rest of your friends as you handed them out. 

“I did it a little differently this year. Instead of making everyone the same cookie, I gifted you cookies that I think fit you. Hopefully you enjoy them… And of course you each have one chocolate chip cookie.” 

“So who got what?” Danny asked to your right. 

“Josh, I made you some classic, but fun christmas sugar cookies. Jake, you got the gingerbread cookie. Danny, those are chocolate crinkle cookies, and Sammy I made the peanut butter blossom cookies for you!” 

“Peanut butter blossom?! Fuck yes! All your cookies can suck it! Mine are superior!” Sam pointed to his brothers in some sort of self-proclaimed victory before digging into the bag of treats.

Danny cleared his throat next to you earning the attention from you and everyone else. “No way, Samuel, clearly the chocolate crinkle cookies are the best cookies. That’s why she made them for me.” He was nonchalant in his boasting unlike the youngest brother.

“Guys-“ 

“Mine are a classic, which obviously makes them the best cookie ever. Everyone loves a classic.”

“Um guys-“ You tried to put an end to their ridiculous game of ‘my cookie insinuates I’m better’, but none of them would let you get a word in.

“Well I hate to break it to you, but actually I have the best cookies. Gingerbread is a fan favorite. Just like me.” Jake added in his two sense, smug smile and all as he broke the cookie in half and took a bite.

“Oh I am never making you guys personalized cookies ever again.” 

——————————————

After the cookie debacle, which lasted for about a half hour before you decided to just leave the room altogether, everyone headed into Sam’s living room for White Elephant. You ended up with the beautiful leather bound journal and some nice pens that Josh had brought, and Danny got the soft, green queen size blanket that you had brought. He currently had it wrapped around his body laying on Sam’s couch snoozing next to you while you and Sam caught up. Jake and Josh had left an hour ago leaving the three of you to hang out, but Danny knocked out shortly after.

“Rhi, seriously, you’re gonna have to teach me how to make these cookies! They’re amazing!” Sam popped another peanut butter blossom into his mouth while he looked at you happily. You thought you could melt right there under his elated gaze. 

“Well, I could show you how to make them right now if you have all the ingredients?” 

“Right now?” 

You nodded your head eagerly in response. 

“Hell yes! Tell me what we need.”

After all the ingredients were gathered and laid out on the countertop, you showed Sam how to make the cookies. He followed along intently, and executed every instruction that you gave him. You could tell he was really trying his best to be serious. When the oven was up to temperature you let him stick the baking tray onto the rack and set the timer.

“Now while we wait we can clean up our mess.” You picked up the leftover ingredients and began putting them back where they belonged. By the time you were ready to clean up the bowl you used to mix everything together, Sam had almost licked it clean.

“Sammy we’re supposed to be cleaning up this mess, not eating!” You playfully scolded him.

“Mess? I don’t see a mess.” He pretended to look around the kitchen until his eyes settled on you in a mischievous way. “Oh no, you’re right. There is a huge mess to clean up.” 

You knew immediately what he was planning on doing and tried your best to back away in time, but he caught you by the wrist. 

“Sam, I swear to god, don’t you dare even think abou-” Before you could get the rest of your sentence out, Sam had smeared cookie batter on your cheek. Not like a small amount either. No this was more like a handful of raw cookie dough straight to the face. 

“Oh you’re gonna pay for that.” 

He was so busy stuffing his face earlier that he didn’t know you were about to put away the flour before he started this. You reached behind you blindly and grabbed a fistful of flour in your hand. Particles of flour flew around as you sprinkled the powder on top of his head. 

“Rhi- Oh sweet Rhi, you have made a grave mistake my dear.” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards into a smirk. 

You didn’t understand what he was so smug about. Almost everything had already been put away and there wasn’t much that he could attack you with at this point. 

But then it hit you. 

You hadn’t put away the eggs yet. 

In the same moment that you made the connection, Sam had slapped an egg on top of your head. You could feel the liquid yolk and white of the egg run down your scalp. It started to drip onto your face when the shock wore off. Not giving him a chance to react, you turned around quickly and grabbed two eggs and smashed them both on Sam’s hair. It was you who was smiling full of cockiness at the sight of your best friend’s face. 

Sam reached a long arm behind you and grabbed his own handful of flour. You took the opportunity to reach into the mixing bowl for cookie dough. Sam tossed the flour directly at your mouth, aiming for your neck, and busted out laughing. 

“Ow! Shit!” You dropped the cookie batter and instead cupped your hand to your eye. 

Sam stopped laughing almost immediately and turned his worried attention on you. 

“Oh shit, Rhi, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for it to get in your eye.” His large hands cradled your face as he tried to get a look at your eye. “Hey can you try and open it for me? God I’m so sorry.”  

After a moment you were able to open your eye. It still stung, and it was watering pretty good, but the pain was subsiding. You knew the white of your eye had to be bright red though. 

“You got me good, Samuel.” You teased even though he still looked worried as ever. He was a lot closer than you thought, his hands still on both your cheeks. “Is it worse than that time I gave you pink eye?”  

The look of worry left his face and a small smile cracked across his mouth. 

“Always trying to crack a joke.” He huffed a laugh in disbelief and shook his head. “One of the many reasons I fell for you.” 

You felt as though your heart stopped beating. There was no way you heard him right, surely he meant something else? Except the look on his face told you he hadn’t meant to say that at all. 

“Did you just say why you fell for me?” 

He looked completely frantic, yet he wasn’t moving at all. Standing like a deer caught in headlights while his mind resembled a squirrel sprinting across the street trying to dodge cars. He stammered a few times before actually speaking again. 

“No I-“ 

“Yes you did. I- I know that’s what I heard come out of your mouth… You- You’re in love with me?” There was no look on your face giving away your true feelings. The tone of your voice wasn’t helpful either. Disbelief was the only emotion you were showing. 

The gears turning in Sam’s mind were practically visible to you. He was debating on keeping this going or just finally admitting the truth. He took a deep sigh and squeezed his eyes shut, answering on the exhale. 

“I am-“ He took another breath trying to slow his racing heart “So in love with you, Rhi. You have no clue just how much I really love you.” When he opened his eyes you could see how much he meant it. 

“Sammy… I-“ 

“You don’t feel the same, I know…” 

“No you big dummy,” You chuckled slightly and grabbed his hands, “I’m in love with you too, Sammy. I have been for some time.” 

“Really?” He almost seemed confused. 

“Yes!” 

Sam dropped your hands and wrapped his arms around your back lifting you in the air quickly. He spun you around before setting you back to the ground, beaming at you the entire time. The second his arms detangled themselves from you he pulled you into him, his lips meeting yours in a sweet, smiley kiss. Neither of you minded that you were still completely covered in food, you could barely register that his lips were pressed against yours. 

“Best. Friendsmas. Ever. I love you so much!” He spoke happily against your lips between kisses. 

“I love you too, Sammy.” 

—————————————————————————

taglist: @gold-mines-melting @indigofallingsky @sunandthemoontwinflames @ageofhearingloss @lipstickitty @hellowgoodbye @demolitionndann @brujamagik @wildbluesorbit @jjwasneverhere @stardustjake @sanguinebats @sinarainbows @jordie-gvf-admin @malany-gvf @dannyandthekiszkas @popejosh4ever @gretasimp @sacredthefran @writingcold @thecoldwind @reesetrippingthelight @starcatcher-jake @musicspeaks @joshskittytickler @for-ur-love @carbondancingthroughtime @violet-hayes

add yourself to my taglist! X

[jantostolemyheart]

Janto au based on that one reddit post of a real story

Title: Wasteland, Baby

"Rhi, I think I might be homophobic -" Ianto confessed.

Rhiannon stared at her brother. "What.? Explain, please. Because as far as I know you've never had any problems with gay people. So where's this coming from?"

"You know how I share a dorm with Jack?"

She nodded. Jack and Ianto had been best friends since nursery.

"Well we flirt often but as a joke, and I don't mind it. And sometimes he brings home guys- I once caught him and someone from our accounting course, a John Hart, making out on our couch. And I don't usually mind if he sees people, but seeing them just gave me a nauseous feeling. I lashed out a bit and he said I can't really say anything because when I was with Lisa I had her over and he said nothing. I said I was just having a bad day and didn't care who he kissed, but it just made him more upset. He said he's going to stay with Angelo. Then he asked if I would be fine if they did stuff together. I think he was just trying to rile me up but I said it was fine and went to bed for a bit until you came over while he left."

Rhiannon looked at Ianto, a slight smile on her face.

"I don't have a problem with other gay people, it's just when it comes to Jack kissing guys that it bothers me-

I don't want to be like this because what if he gets a boyfriendRhi why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, indignant.

"You know, you're an oblivious twpsyn. It's clear he's trying to make you jealous, and it worked. You have a crush on him, genius. You're not homophobic."

Ianto spluttered. "What now? Me, have a crush on Jack Harkness? I'm not gay!"

"No, but you could be bisexual, you know. It's not just straight or gay." She shook her head, amused.

Ianto thought over what she was saying, and it was like a lightbulb went off inside his head. "... you're right. I do have a crush on Jack, and I have been jealous of him kissing other guys.

Thanks Rhi. I'm going to talk to him when he comes back."

Jack came back the next day.

"Hi Ianto. Are you done being salty about me kissing other guys?"

Ianto nodded and apologized. "Wanna watch Bond and eat pizza together?"

Jack agreed.

After they finished the movie marathon, because nothing says romance like James Bond, Ianto decided to tell Jack about his conversation with his sister.

"it turns out I was just jealous," he blurted.

Jack looked at him, confused. "Jealous of...?"

"Of you kissing other guys. I'm not homophobic, just jealous. I um. I have a crush on you, Jack."

He laughed softly. "Oh Ianto-

You know, I was trying to make you jealous, because I have a crush on you, but with you being straight, I didn't think I had a chance. And all the flirting? That was real, at least on my end. But it seems you're not as straight as you thought."

"No, I'm not. I'm bi, but not ready to come out to others yet."

"That's fine. We'll take it slow, go at your pace."

"Are we okay?"

Jack nodded, and Ianto tackled him in a hug.

"Ianto, can we try something?"

Ianto nodded, and Jack kissed him gently. He was amused when Ianto's cheeks flushed deep red, but it was his turn to blush when Ianto proceeded to cover his face in kisses.

Over time, their relationship solidified, and Ianto was more comfortable with coming out to more people, as well as his family.

Jack was happy, because they were now an official couple, he had the boyfriend he never thought he would.

And it turned out Ianto didn't have a problem with Jack kissing guys, if it was him Jack was kissing.

@notjustateaboy @ricky-tiki-tah I think you might like this 🤭

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part VIII

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~13.2k

Warnings: this one fucking hurts, pining, stupid decisions, miscommunications, explicit sexual content (it’s time for something we’ve been waiting for), yet another party, angst A/N: Read this, but before you murder me remember there’s one more after this. Also, this isn’t the big thing you’ve been waiting for, but I know it’s something a lot of people have wanted to see. Enjoy this ouchie. 

Mike doesn’t feel human when he wakes up. He’s nearly positive he no longer is—body taken over by some creature of the bog with toxic breath. Jesus, what the fuck happened last night?

 Blinking hurts. Shifting his leg hurts. His chest is fucking killing him, feels like he bruised his god damn sternum, and when he moves to sit up in a bed that is not his, overwhelming nausea has Mike groaning and covering his mouth with one hand. 

 “He has risen,” a vaguely familiar baritone voice rings through the air, loud enough to make Mike wave his other hand in an attempt to mute it. Erwin chuckles, paying him no attention apparently as he speaks again, “Good timing, too. I just came to drop this off.”

 Mike tries to focus his bleary eyes on the nightstand where his friend sets down a bottle of water, a bigger bottle of Gatorade, and several liquid gel pills. 

 “Chill here for as long as you need. I’m just watching the pledges clean downstairs. Want me to bring the trash can over?” Erwin’s concern can’t entirely hide the amusement in his voice. It’s irritating, but also… Mike needs that trash can.

 “Yeah,” he croaks through his palm. “Thanks.”

 Erwin nods and grabs the little plastic bin, setting it down next to the bed. Mike considers just picking it up and sitting with it in his lap, but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stay upright for long enough.

 “I’ll be downstairs. If you need anything, you’ll just have to yell because your phone is definitely sitting in a bag of rice in the kitchen right now.”

 “What?” Mike frowns. How even…

 “It got wet,” Erwin states, like that clarifies anything. “Probably in the shower.”

 “Why was I—”

 “We can talk about it when you’re less…” Erwin gestures to Mike’s face with one finger and grimaces as he finishes, “Green. You didn’t do anything too terrible, though, so you can rest easy.”

 He leaves, and Mike chokes down the pills and a few gulps of water before gently laying back down. He has to retrace metaphorical footsteps to get to the last thing he remembers from the night before, and it’s body shots off some blonde clone. His order of events goes: hanging out with Rhi, talking with you and Erwin, Zeke showing up, catching Eren mid-roofie attempt and throwing him out, getting mad at Nile, and then just a lot of drinking. Too much. Of different kinds. That had been dumb. 

 He thinks he spent a little while in the bathroom. Erwin was there. And, Nile came and went. He thinks he may have heard your voice a few times but can’t be sure, and honestly, trying to recall anything from the period of time his brain was literally incapable of processing new memories is a pretty big waste of time.

 Mike spends most of the day in Erwin’s room. He drifts in and out of restless sleep, waking up to drink his water and Gatorade. At some point, one of the kids, Jean, knocks on the door and drops a bowl of soup off, mumbles, “Erwin told me to bring this up here.” Mike hasn’t spent a ton of time around the current pledge class, but Erwin must like Jean if he trusted the kid enough to give him his room code. 

 The soup settles his stomach enough to move around a little more. His headache ebbs into a dull throb, and the sharp ache in his chest fades into that of a bruise. By around five o'clock, Mike is finally able to amble downstairs, give everyone a tired wave, mumble his thanks to Erwin, then drive himself to his apartment. 

 He's still trying to piece together what happened the night before, but he just ends up more confused than before, so he decides to put it behind him and move on. Everyone deserves a wild night every once in a while. 

 *

 Thanksgiving nears. Mike has already made plans to go home to his parents which means he has to turn down the Pike house Friendsgiving offer that Erwin extends to him. 

 He tells Mike that Nile and Hitch will be there, but Marie might show her face, "So, that will be interesting." 

 Some of the brothers who can't make it home will attend. Erwin is bringing Maddie who Mike hasn't heard about in several months, but he's pretty sure that's just to throw him off the scent of whatever Erwin has going on with you. You, who will also be in attendance because apparently your mom opted to go on a girls trip instead of face the family. Mike can't blame her. 

 He thinks maybe he should reach out to you, to ask about the night he blacked out because he has a feeling you can give him some details that others can't, but Erwin assures Mike that you were only in the bathroom with him for a short time. "Just long enough to see you rip your shirt which she seemed a little too happy about."

 Mike doesn't know what he'd say to you anyway. Even after learning that Zeke had blocked his number in your phone. He's still mad that you let the fucker get close enough to do that in the first place, that you had chosen him. It's a wound that just won't heal. Any time he sees you or hears your name, all Mike can think about is why he wasn't good enough. 

 So, he keeps distancing himself. It seems like the most appropriate thing he can do until he decides he'll be able to have a conversation with you without blowing up. 

 Mike's parents are happy to see him when he walks in the door. Scout jumps on him until he picks her up and holds her like the puppy she is not. He isn't surprised when his mom asks about you, if you and Mike sorted things out. The question hurts even if he was expecting it, seems like yesterday you were walking around the house like you'd always been a part of it. 

 Lying is the easiest path to take. He tells his parents that you had to go home for the break, that you couldn't split up your time between two families in just four days, and, of course, they buy it. 

 Thanksgiving day is nice enough. The family travels a couple cities over to Mike's aunt and uncle's house. It's much bigger, has room for the relatives that are able to make it. There are traditional Greek dishes as well as the usual turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, etc. A few pictures here and there, entertaining his younger cousins—it's a good time. 

 Until Mike checks his various social media apps and sees the pictures from Friendsgiving.

 They're tame, nothing wildly inappropriate, but they still make Mike scowl as he thumbs through them. 

 One of Nile cutting into the turkey, of Reiner ripping into a drumstick, Connie hoarding all of the cranberry sauce while his best friend, a girl named Sasha, does the same with the deviled eggs. Gelgar looks to be crying with a dot of potato salad in his hair. Marie is indeed there, glaring in the background of a photo where Nile and Hitch are tapping beer bottles together with silly smiles. She looks much happier in the shot of her and Maddie sitting together, laughing over glasses of wine. 

 Mike's heart stutters when he gets to a photo of you aiming to toss food into Reiner's mouth, then of you and Erwin both holding beers in one hand and pointing matching finger guns with the other.

 Thick as fucking thieves. Two peas in a god damn pod. Mike wants to throw his phone out the window of his dad's suburban. 

 There are several more pictures that Mike doesn't bother to look at. He'd like to have a good time with his parents for the remainder of his break, and there's no way he'll be able to do that if he's pissed off. 

 So, he distracts himself. He goes on walks with Scout and plays with her for hours, watches old movies with his mom and dad, calls a couple relatives from overseas to catch up. But, those pictures are seared into the back of his mind, surfacing whenever he has down time. 

 He doesn't have any desire to go back to campus, not if he's gonna see you and Erwin together. His friend can deny it all he wants, but Mike knows something is going on between the two of you, and as he drives back to the college, he finally has the realization that… you might just be a shitty person. 

 Yeah, you have issues, but so does everyone. It doesn't excuse you from—from fucking toying with people, from using them as puppets whenever you need to. Mike wishes he'd never even tempted you to sleep with him that last time. It had felt too good and too right, but apparently you don't feel the same way. You went right back to Zeke once you'd gotten what you wanted, and Mike should have seen that coming. He should have been prepared for it. On some level he knew that's what you'd do, but that never stopped him from hoping that maybe… maybe it would have opened your eyes. 

 Plus, it ruined the entire Jurassic Park franchise for him, so that sucks. 

 He picks up where he left off both in his classes and in his social life. He stays away from PKA as much as he can but still attends meetings when necessary. The lacrosse season is coming to an end, so he tries to make the most of it. Rhi ends up in his bed again, both of them taking what they can from each other. Erwin jokes that he's gonna fall in love with her— "You know what happened the last time you tried to keep it casual," —and Mike nearly decks him in the face. 

 You don't try to talk to him, no texts or calls. When you see each other on campus, you don't spare him more than a sad glance as you pass him. 

 Mike is fine with it. He isn't about to be the one to make the move to talk things out. Honestly, he doesn't know if there's anything to talk out. You dated Zeke, and now you're dating Mike's best friend and trying to hide it. 

 He's mad at both of you, but it's easier to channel that blistering anger toward you rather than Erwin who he has to see on a regular basis. Besides, Erwin has always gotten around. Mike isn't especially surprised that he'd try his hand with you especially after what happened at the ranch house, but fuck, couldn't he have waited until after he and Mike graduated or something? Just disrespectful. That's what it is. 

 *

 "Bro, I do not wanna go to another party," Mike's voice rises in frustration. "Consider me partied the fuck out, okay? I'm tired of 'em."

 "It's not even a party," Erwin tells him. "It's more like a gathering of… like-minded individuals."

 Mike snorts. "Yeah, okay." 

 "I'm not kidding! Like, twelve people at the most. All we're doing is hanging out at the ranch house."

 "Will there be drinking?" Mike questions, moving his head back and forth in a mocking way. 

 Erwin shrugs his shoulders where he sits. "Of course there'll be drinking, but you don't have to partake. I just want you there to chill. Come on, man."

 "Who's going?"

 The blond lists off some of the Friendsgiving group, but he doesn't get to finish because once Erwin utters your name, Mike cuts him off with a loud, "Nope!"

 "Duuuude," Erwin sounds like the frustrated one now, not that he has any right to be. 

 "Don't dude me! Why the fuck would you think I'd have any interest in watching you two giggle and cuddle n' shit."

 "Mike," Erwin groans, rubbing his forehead. "How many times do I have to tell you…"

 "You don't have to tell me anything. I already know what I need to know."

 Standing up, Erwin seems like he's at his wit's end when he barks, "You don't know shit! You're seeing what you want to see without asking either of us! She misses you, dude. I'm just the next best thing."

 "Nice to know your dick game isn't better than mine at least," Mike grumbles. 

 "Jesus Christ, you know what? I don't care. Come to the house, or don't come. Whatever."

 Erwin takes long strides to get to Mike's front door, obviously ready to get away from him. He slams it hard enough to make Mike flinch. 

 He doesn't care how annoyed Erwin is with him. It's partially his fault that Mike doesn't want to go to the gathering, and he should know that. He'll come to understand eventually, and that thought makes it easier for Mike to make his decision. He's not gonna go. He refuses. There's no way. He won't—

 Mike ends up going. 

 After powering through finals and visiting his parents for another few days. He has a mental debate the entire way to the ranch house, swearing to himself, going over the pros and cons. He comes close to turning around more than a few times, but after a couple hours, Mike finally pulls into the large circle drive right behind Levi's black Prius. 

 Erwin is extremely surprised to see him but keeps his mouth closed about it, just tells him, "Room upstairs on the far right is still open."

 Mike drops his stuff off then greets the others—Nile, Gelgar, Reiner, Jean, Marco, and Levi. 

 "Wasn't expecting to see you here," the last states, focused on burning the loose string of his hoodie with a lighter. "Erwin told me you guys had some bullshit argument."

 "Happens sometimes," Mike dismisses as he takes a place on the couch. 

 "I guess. This is why I don't have a lot of friends. Can't put up with stupid shit like that."

 "Oh, is that why?" Mike rolls his eyes. 

 Levi snickers, shaking his head. "Aw man, he was right. You are in a bad mood, aren't ya'? 

 "Man, fuck off."

 They sit in silence for a few minutes. Mike is bouncing his foot where it's thrown over his opposite leg—anxious or angry or some other negative emotion he needs to get rid of. 

 "Party's gonna be a fucking sausage fest," Levi mumbles. 

 Nile passes behind the couch just in time to hear and informs the smaller man, "Not entirely. Maddie, Marie, Hitch, and Mike's little heartbreaker should be getting here soon."

 Mike groans internally but speaks out loud, "This was a mistake. I can't fucking be here if you guys keep talking about her."

 "If you can't handle us talking about her, how're you gonna handle seeing her?" Levi scoffs. 

 Erwin has stocked the bar with craft beer and various wines. Mike considers going ahead and breaking a few bottles open, but he resists—doesn't want a repeat of the forgotten party. 

 They set up a horror video game upstairs and an animated adult series downstairs. Erwin wasn't lying about it being a more relaxed environment than usual, but that doesn't stop Mike's neck from prickling when you arrive with Hitch at around five. Maddie and Marie show up a couple hours later, and Mike can feel the tension that surrounds all four of you. Amusing as it can be, he really doesn't have the patience for cattiness tonight. 

 High quality Chinese food is provided courtesy of Erwin's father's credit card as well as dipped strawberries that Nile keeps feeding Hitch. It gets Marie very heated very quickly, and Maddie has to talk her down in another room. 

 It makes Mike wonder if you would ever let him feed you like that or if you would snort and bat his hand away. What the fuck do you think you're doing, Zacharias? That's couples shit.

 It makes him sigh and slouch on the couch, thankful you're upstairs watching Connie play the most recent Resident Evil. 

 He knows you're not a fan of horror, so the only reason you'd be up there is to avoid Mike. 

 Good. 

 Erwin is the first to open the wine. Maddie won't leave his side, stuck to him like a magnet. The fact that he has to get a drink only furthers Mike's theory that Erwin didn't invite her as a real date. 

 He spends a fair amount of time shooting the shit with Levi. It isn't necessarily the most enjoyable conversation considering Levi's constant smartass comments, but it's better than trudging up to the second floor. 

 Nile fucks Hitch in the bathroom for everyone to hear. Marie starts crying and runs to the porch. This gathering is about as insufferable as Mike assumed it would be. 

 Eventually, you journey downstairs. It was inevitable. You spare Mike a glance and sigh as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a beer—you don't even like beer, so why—

 "Hey, can you grab me one too?" Erwin calls out, and when you hand it to him, he gives you that hundred watt grin Mike knows brings girls to their knees, but while Maddie stares at him with that dreamy look in her eyes, you just snort and gently shove him. 

 "Don't fuckin' look at me like that, Smith."

 Ah, the last name card, the one that you pull to act like you're all aloof when really you're just reeling them in. 

 "Like what?" Erwin asks before taking a sip, still smiling around the rim of the bottle. 

 "You know what."

 Mike chooses then to go upstairs, knowing he steals your attention as he stomps like a toddler throwing a tantrum. 

 Why did he even come here? Was it just to give himself more reason to brood? Solidify that he's valid in being angry? 

 Connie is trembling as his character makes his way through a decrepit house. Jean laughs every few minutes, but he also startles at every jump scare, leaving Reiner to call both of them pussies as he bites into strawberry after strawberry, throwing the stems into a little bowl in his lap. Mike supposes the first years are entertaining enough. He can see why Erwin invited them here. 

 It's close to nine o'clock. Mike is bored out of his mind, can't help venturing back downstairs mostly because he's tired of watching the pledges swear and shout at the video game (including Reiner now) but also out of morbid curiosity. 

 Marie has returned and is sitting in the kitchen with Maddie, both of whom are glaring into the den where you, Erwin, Nile, and Hitch share the couch. Hitch may as well be in Nile's lap, but you're sitting on the back ridge, feet planted on the cushions as you hunch forward and nurse a beer. Your knee is against Erwin's arm, but that's the only point of contact. Still, whenever something funny is said on the TV show, he looks up at you, as if to check that you're laughing, taking it in. Mike can't blame him. You have one of the cutest laughs he's ever heard. 

 Levi and Gelgar are both on plush loveseats on opposite sides of the room, either scrolling or typing on their phones. 

 Again, Mike has to think about how laid back the party is—even if he's a mess. It's so different from the raucous scenes he's used to—blasting music and keg stands and dancing on tables. This would be infinitely preferable if it weren't for the open pit in Mike's stomach. 

 If he could just chill the fuck out, pay absolutely no attention to you and Erwin and the way his fingers slowly wrap around your ankle when you won't stop bouncing your leg. 

 Not together his ass. 

 When Mike gets a text from Rhi, he basically sighs in relief—the perfect opportunity to forget about you for a while. 

 He doesn't bother asking to make sure it's okay with the host, just messages back, what are you doing rn? and immediately asks her to come over, knowing she only lives about an hour away. 

 Naturally, she agrees. One of the only great things about Rhi is that she’s always, always down to fuck. Mike doesn’t know if it has something to do with his size or if she just has a high sex drive. Either way, he’s glad for it.. 

 He meets her on the porch after waiting for what feels like an eternity, just having to sit and watch you kick Erwin’s thigh whenever he says something dumb. He always retaliates by pulling on your little toes which makes you squeak and almost fall off the couch. It’s fucking maddening, makes Mike want to pull his hair out or throw something, just trash the fucking house because Erwin deserves it. 

 But, then Rhi arrives in all her Ugg boot glory, wearing the old, green hoodie that you had given back to Mike a few months ago.

 They walk in, Mike’s hands on her shoulders like he’s pushing her over the threshold. You look up, take the other girl in, then very quickly step off the couch and prance into the kitchen without saying a word.

 Erwin, however, makes up for your silence, wide eyed as he stares at Rhi and utters, “Fuck.”

* You didn’t want to be like Maddie and Marie, jogging to a private place to cry over a fucking boy, but god, you are definitely locked in the bathroom, hunched over the sink sobbing as quietly as you can. Your nose is running, and your eyes are burning, leaking god damn rivers

 It wouldn’t have been so bad if she was just in her normal winter sorority get-up. But the hoodie? The one you wore for months on end, the one Mike would sniff whenever he would lay his head on your stomach, mumbling something about, “Smells good. Might have to take it back.” He didn’t have to say it out loud, but you knew he always felt a little jolt of pride when you’d wear it, like you were advertising how close you were to him.

 So, to see another girl wearing it—to see Rhi wearing it—it fucking hurts. Your throat is sore from holding back those loud, pained cries. Your stomach is rolling like you ate something spoiled. Your fingers ache from digging into the fancy, granite sink. Everything hurts. 

 It makes you wonder if Mike felt like this when you first told him about Zeke, if he feels like this now that he thinks you’re with Erwin—stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn’t have waited so long to talk to him. You should have cleared things up right after the party. Now, it’s too late. 

 There’s a knock on the door that makes you sniff and wipe your nose, but you still tell whoever is on the other side (most likely Hitch or Erwin), “Go away.”

 “It’s me.” Erwin. "Let me in."

 "Literally what did I just say?" 

 "If you don't unlock the door, I'll kick it in. It's my house, so I won't get in trouble for it."

 "Oh my god," you grumble before turning the lock on the knob. "Spoiled fucking brat."

 Erwin steps in and closes the door then takes a good look at your puffy face and red eyes. Sighing, he leans against the wall. "For the record, I didn't invite her. Mike must have—"

 "That doesn't make me feel any better," you say, grabbing some toilet paper to blow your nose. "Actually, it makes me feel even worse."

 "I just wanted to make sure you knew."

 "What, d'you want brownie points or something?" You ask sarcastically, making sure the toilet lid is down before sitting on it, bracing your arms on your knees and looking up at Erwin to find him frowning. "Sorry. I'm being a bitch, I know."

 He waves it off. "It's understandable. I'm not very happy with him either. The perpetual shitty mood is driving me crazy."

 You don't know much about that other than it being entirely your fault, so you apologize, "Yeah, sorry about that."

 "If you guys would have just talked it out like adults—"

 "Well, we didn't, Erwin. And, it seems like it's not even an option any more, so…" you hold your hands out in a clueless fashion, like you're at a loss. "I don't know what you want me to do."

 Your voice is thick, straining against the lump in your throat. Vision going blurry again, you shove your palms against your eyes, repeating, no more crying, no more crying, no more crying. 

 "I'm sorry he's doing this to you," Erwin says quietly. 

 You sniffle, almost laugh when you reply, "Not really different from what I did to him. Like," you have to blow your nose again so it doesn't start running, toss the toilet paper into the waste basket next to you. "I don't know if he's trying to get back at me or legitimately moving on, but I can't exactly hold it against him."

 "Still," Erwin takes a couple steps toward you. "Pulling this kind of shit is fucked up. He had to have known it would hurt you on some level."

 "You don't have to, like, take my side or whatever," you state. "I know we're friends and all, but you don't have to coddle me like this."

 "I'm not trying to coddle you. I'm sympathizing. There's a difference."

 "Whatever it is, it's unnecessary," you mumble.

 "Yeah?" Another step closer so that he's right in front of you. "So, you weren't planning on crying in here for the rest of the night?" 

 "No," you're quick to deny, but your lips quirk upward when you correct, "I was gonna go up to my room and cry in there for the rest of the night."

 Erwin shakes his head then pulls you into a strange embrace, pressing your face to his stomach with one hand while the other settles between your shoulder blades.

 Your first instinct is to shove him away, but his shirt is soft and smells like detergent, and his stomach is firm and grounding against your cheek, and the knuckles rubbing up and down the top of your spine are warm and soothing. 

 So, you stay in the slightly awkward position, shutting your eyes and trying to relax, but all you can think about is Mike walking in with his hands on Rhi and the way she looked in his hoodie. Is she cuter than you? Does she smell better than you? Does she treat him better than you did? 

 Tears well up in your eyes once again, dampening Erwin's shirt as they slip over your waterline, and before you know it, you're clutching the material covering the small of his back and crying against him. 

 And, he lets you—just keeps stroking between your shoulders and shushing you with a quiet, "I know, I know. It'll be okay." 

 Erwin is cocky and bold, takes things a little too far sometimes, but, just as you thought last year after he stole that kiss, he is good. Even if he's broken too many hearts to count and completely disregarded people's feelings, he's a good guy. At the very least, he's good to you, and that's what you need at the moment. 

 "What time is it?" You speak into his shirt. 

 "About eleven thirty."

 You hum and turn so that your forehead is resting just above his hips. It could be a suggestive position, but—

 But nothing. 

 You blink a few times, weighing the situation, everything that unfolded tonight—everything that's unfolded over the past semester and… it would make sense. It's not like you've never thought about it before. You're worked up and need to unwind, need to clear your head, and besides, Mike already believes there's something between you and Erwin, so why not take advantage of that?

 Sucking on your bottom lip, you go through a list of pros and cons. The biggest downside is that Mike will be upset with you. He already is, though, so there’s isn’t much to lose on that front. The upside is that you'll be able to forget about him for a while and possibly get an orgasm out of it. 

 "Hey, Erwin…" You're not entirely sure how to bring it up, but it turns out you don't have to. 

 "Don't fucking ask," he huffs. Perceptive bastard. 

 You push away from his stomach and look up at him. "Okay, why, though?"

 His head is hanging back, gaze trained on the ceiling as he admits, "Because if you ask, I won't say no, and it'll only make things worse."

 Something about that gives you butterflies. That's a good sign, means you might be invested enough to finally let your mind wander from Mike. 

 "Mike already thinks we're fucking, though, so unless you don't actually want to fuck me, I don't see why we shouldn't."

 Erwin walks backward until he hits the cabinets. His full lips are pressed into a tight line, and his blue eyes look like a warning. Don't push me. 

 "Do you honestly think you won't walk away from that feeling guilty?" He questions. "We know we aren't sleeping together, that we aren't actually doing anything wrong even if Mike doesn't believe it. But, to actually go through with it?" Erwin lets out a little chuckle and crosses his arms over his chest. "I probably won't feel bad 'cause I'm kind of an asshole, but you? You will feel awful."

 "I already feel awful," you remind him as you stand. "I already feel guilty. If you think I could feel any fucking worse than I already do, you might be overestimating my—my—I don't know—emotional capacity?"

 Moving forward, you nudge Erwin out of the way to get to the sink, splashing cold water on your face to clean it of dried tears. You cup a hand under the faucet, then toss some water into your mouth, swishing, and spitting, and turning back around. 

 Erwin's gaze is dark and not at all subtle when he eyes you up and down. 

 "I might hurt you, you know," he states in a voice that's considerably deeper than before. 

 You raise your eyebrows, unconvinced. "You don't have to worry about me catching feelings, Smith. Relax."

 Mouth tugging up on one side, Erwin smirks in a way that makes you squirm where you stand. 

 "That's not what I meant."

 It takes you a moment to decipher what he's trying to say, but you breathe an, "Oh," when you realize, then another as it truly sinks in. "Oh."

 That's okay, you want to tell him. I want to be hurt tonight. You only want it if it will hurt. If you confess to that desire, though, Erwin might back out—a disappointment considering the way you're starting to get a little excited. 

 "If I can handle Mike, I can handle you," you say, fully aware that he'll take it as a challenge. If there's one thing you know about men, it's that they thrive off competition. 

 Erwin is no different as he slides in front of you, hands finding your hips and pulling them to his. He's already half hard in his khakis, and you stand on your tip-toes, brushing against him as you do, to tilt your head back and hover just under his mouth as you tease, "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it before."

 "You have no idea how often I've thought about it—how often I think about it."

 You nip at his bottom lip, enjoying the way he licks it afterward. "Have you been holding back since we started hanging out—just the two of us?" 

 His fingers dig into your back, just above the curve of your ass, and you already know there will be small bruises left behind. 

 "Do you want me to paint a picture?" He rumbles, and you nod, pressing a kiss to his throat. "Any time I have you in my room I think about fucking you. On the bed. Over my desk. Up against a wall…" A little gasp makes its way out of him as you bite down on the skin you've been sucking on, and Erwin ruts against you a couple times before continuing, voice a little more strangled than before. 

 "Thought about fucking you downstairs on the couch for the whole frat to see, all spread out, moaning like a porn star. I know what you sound like," he whispers, catching you off guard when he suddenly lifts you to set you on the counter. "I've heard the way you scream for Mike." 

 There's a pang in your chest at the mention of him, but it's gone just as quickly. 

 "And, you'd like it, wouldn't you? Being watched." Erwin trails his lips from your temple to your ear, making you shiver when he speaks into it, "You can pretend all you want, but I know you liked it when I walked in on you and him. You liked being on display."

 He isn't wrong. You replay that instance in your head a little more than you probably should. 

 Hearing the fact stated now, though, right to your face has your body heating, arousal flooding you and making warmth pool between your legs. 

 "You can admit it, it's okay. I've known for a while now."

 One of his hands moves to the inside of your thigh then further up, fingers dancing over your covered pussy. It's your turn to gasp. You clutch his shoulders and spread your legs despite knowing there's no way you'll be satisfied with this, not when thick denim is separating you from his touch. 

 "Don't get too cocky, Smith." You try to sound confident, but it's hard to when your breath keeps hitching. 

 "Why?" He grazes his teeth over the sensitive space below your ear, and it makes you twitch in his grasp. "I have every reason to be."

 He goes on to list every other place he's thought about fucking you—apparently just about every setting you've ever been in with him. Each and every Pike party, the locker room before or after a lacrosse game, his Mustang, Mike's Wrangler.

 "That's fucked up," you somehow manage. 

 Erwin shrugs his shoulders, mumbles, "Can't help it," then slots his lips against yours for the first time (or, the first consensual time). 

 You're reminded of Zeke, the way all you did was compare him, only now with Erwin, you have two men who flash through your mind. He's softer than Zeke but just as bold as he cradles your head and slips his tongue into your mouth—tastes sweeter than Mike (probably from the strawberries), but it's not necessarily a good thing. It isn't bad either. It's just Erwin… Different. 

 His hair doesn't brush your cheeks like Mike's does. He doesn't have glasses to dig into your skin. Clean shaven, no coarse hairs to tickle against you, and he's smack in the middle in terms of height. You have to crane your neck more than you did with Zeke but less than you had to with Mike. 

 It's all a little jarring, but you feel this was always sort of an inevitability, at least once you started spending time with Erwin one on one. You never would have let this happen if you had stayed with Mike—if you had actually taken the next step with him—but that's why you started hanging out with Erwin in the first place. 

 You never noticed the way your back and forth was flirty, mostly just you giving him shit about one thing or another, but apparently others read further into it. And, you've had as good a time as you can. The heartache has put a damper on things, kept Erwin mostly off your radar save for the days you woke up frustrated and desperate, but that's what your vibrator is for. 

 Apparently, while you were busy making sure things stayed friendly between the two of you, Erwin's mind was getting away from him. Every god damn time you hung out, he told you, whether it was at the house or out to lunch, walking with you to classes or out to your car. 

 He did make it a habit of touching you, you can admit, but none of it was inappropriate—a nudge to knock you off balance that would result in you hitting him, a prod in the ribs that would result in you squeaking and hitting him. Sticking a foot out to trip you that would result in you…

 Dude obviously likes to be slapped around. 

 There's also the hugs. Up in his room when you feel extra gloomy, he'd wrap his arms around you and sway back and forth. Sometimes he'd sit and pull you with him, turn on a movie and keep a tight hold around your shoulders. There were afternoons you'd walk into his room while he was studying and just pass out in his bed, up too late the night before from worrying and obsessing, in need of a nap before your evening lecture. He'd set an alarm for you, stay up for a while longer before allowing himself to take a break and crawl under the blankets beside to—

 Oh, god, you've been dating Erwin Smith. 

 You have to break away from him to laugh, lightly hitting your head against his chest so that he chuckles and asks, "What?" 

 "I—" You look back up at him, shaking your head to yourself. "I can't believe I didn't fucking see it."

 "See what?" 

 "You and me—"

 "You and I," he corrects, and you shove him. 

 "You and I have just been doing what Mike and I were doing."

 "Uh, excuse me," he holds a finger up. "We have not been having endless sex, thank you."

 "That's not—" You roll your eyes. "I'm saying we've been dating without actually dating. Like, I get why everyone thinks we're a thing."

 "Oh," Erwin nods, sucking his teeth for a second then adding, "Yeah, I was wondering when you would figure that out."

 "Fucker. Did you do it on purpose? Like, just to prove you could?" 

 He frowns, looking genuinely offended. "Christ, what kind of person do you think I am?" 

 "Not twenty minutes ago you confessed to being an asshole."

 His face softens when he snickers. "Okay, true. But, no. I'm not trying to manipulate Mike or you for that matter. You've been upset, and you've put up with a lot of shit over the last few months, and I just figured you could use a friend."

 Staring up at him, you notice the way his face is turning a little red, and you hold your tongue between your teeth as you smile knowingly. 

 "You caaare about meee."

 He scoffs and looks away

 "Heartbreaker Smith cares about a girl," you tease. "How embarrassing."

 "Laugh it up. You would've been miserable without me."

 "I mean, yeah, but still. What's it like having a platonic girlfriend?" 

 He tilts his head to the side then reaches forward to squeeze your thighs. "Is it really platonic if we're about to have sex?" 

 "Absolutely. Hundred percent."

 "You're not even a little worried that it'll become a regular thing and you'll fall in love?" The arrogance is both astounding and amusing. 

 Cocking your head, you take a deep breath, expression one of false sympathy as you pat his stomach. "I'm positive. Unfortunately, my heart belongs to another."

 Erwin clicks his tongue before moving forward and sliding his hands between the counter and your ass. "I'm a little hurt, honestly. I'm used to fucking a girl and having to hide out for a while afterward—always so clingy."

 You squint, can't tell if he's being serious or overdramatizing to annoy you. 

 "You know what? Nevermind. I don't even want your little playboy ass anymore—"

 Naturally, he turns the charm back on right then, getting too close to your face, blue eyes flicking to your lips before he breathes, "Don't lie," and presses a tiny peck to them. "The tough girl act is only believable for so long."

 "Wow, fuck you."

 "That's the idea," he smirks. 

 "Har fucking har. You're so funny."

 Erwin pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and grinds his hips against yours then prompts, "Your room or mine?" 

 "Mine," you reply. "I'd rather you have to do the walk of shame later."

 "Probably a good idea since you won't be able to once I'm finished with you."

 You actually laugh out loud. It would have worked on you a few minutes ago, but all the joking has you a little giggly at this point. 

 Fuck, he is going to make a great distraction. 

 "Okay, calm down. Don't make promises you can't keep."

 "Sounds like a challenge to me."

 "Men," you sigh. "So predictable."

 After minutes more of unnecessary banter, Erwin finally coaxes you out of the bathroom you've both spent far too much time in. Your face has cleared up, the urge to cry subsiding, though your heart still drops in your chest when you pass behind Mike and Rhi on the couch, green eyes tracking you as you walk up the stairs in front of Erwin. 

 This is not the right way to solve a problem, but it'll probably be fun for a while. It's already fun as Erwin kicks the door closed and walks you back to the bed. He isn't even touching you, just watching you with a hazy blue gaze. He isn't smiling, looks like a predator, and honestly, it's ridiculously attractive. 

 "Stop making that face."

 "What face?" 

 "That—that—"

 You run into the bed, wave your arms to keep your balance, but Erwin presses his fingertips to your chest and just barely pushes to knock you back. 

 "What face, hm?" 

 The hair on your arms and neck is standing on end, anticipation bubbling in your gut as you try to crawl higher on the mattress only for Erwin to grab you by the ankle and tug you back down. 

 Damn. He's good at this. 

 "Stay," he commands, straightening up to take his shirt off. 

 He's tan and toned, light blonde hair sprinkled over his chest and above the waistband of his pants. 

 You're reminded of the very first Pike party you went to, the first time you slept with Mike (and can't remember), walking downstairs the following morning to find Erwin in the kitchen wearing sweats and drinking his coffee and smirking at you like he could tell the future. 

 Maddening. He's maddening. 

 You rid yourself of your own top then shimmy out of your jeans. Erwin eyes you hungrily, causing your whole body to tingle. It simultaneously makes you want to cover yourself and spread yourself open for him. 

 "I have been waiting way too fucking long for this," Erwin mumbles, raking fingernails down your torso so that you take in a shuddering breath. 

 "It's been, like, a y-year and a half." Your back arches on its own volition, hips bucking as Erwin scratches over the bones before catching your thong and pulling it down. He kneels at the end of the bed, a familiar scene save for the head of shiny, golden hair.

 "A year and a half of having to look but not touch."

 "Poor little—" you gasp when he parts your folds with his thumbs, staring at your pussy then blowing a stream of air over it. 

 "Do you know how many times I've jacked off to the thought of you? How many times I've slept with other girls while imagining it was you?" 

 You want to make another smartass comment, tease him about being a pervert or in his feelings or something, but you can't find your voice as he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. You stare at the ceiling, not even blinking as too many signals fire in your brain all at once. 

 Erwin is good with his mouth. Like, stupid good. He has a teasing rhythm, flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue until your muscles are coiled then moves to trace the ring of your entrance, taking his time as you turn from human to puddle. 

 He’s better at this than Zeke who would purposely graze his teeth over your sensitive little bud a little too hard on purpose, would suck on it until it hurt. He liked when you whimpered for him, liked leaving raised welts on your ribs and back from where he’d scratched. The intermixed pain and pleasure never failed to make you come, but the climb up to that precipice was usually precarious for lack of a better term.

 Then, there’s Mike (because of course there is). His mood usually determined how he would take you, hard and fast before a game or slow and lazy as you both relaxed in his room. One thing always stayed the same no matter his disposition, and it’s that he fucking worshiped your pussy—even said it on multiple occasions. He would eat you out like a starving man, lapping at your juices like it would quench his thirst. Some days he would overstimulate you to the point of tears, neverending licks lavished over your clit as he pumped thick fingers in and out of your cunt. Other days he would go down on you like it was a fucking hobby—turn on a movie, spread you out on the foot of his bed, and eat you out while only halfway paying attention to the TV. He could pull multiple orgasms from you that way, letting you come around a finger or two before returning to your pulsing clit. Fuck, you used to make such a mess. He’d spend minutes trying to lick you clean, but you always ended up in the shower afterward.

 You shouldn’t be thinking of that right now, though. You should be thinking about Erwin’s clever tongue and the fingertips just barely brushing over sensitive skin. You want them inside of you, want something to clamp down on, but no matter how much you pull his hair or utter a breathy, “Please,” he keeps the same pace, only moving on when he feels like it.

 He’s doing it on purpose, trying to break you before even getting to the point of fucking you, and if you’re being honest, it just might work. He’s gonna make you lose your god damn mind tonight. Exactly like you want to.

 “Fuck, how much p-practice have you had with th-this?”

 Erwin laughs, stilling your wriggling by curling his arms around your thighs. “Too much, probably.”

 You whine when he continues, but when he starts softly sucking on your clit, you’re surprised at how close you suddenly feel, your legs naturally trying to spread further but remaining immobilized in Erwin’s grip. The threat of not being able to move only intensifies the building sensation in your gut, and soon you’re gasping his name, eyes rolling as you try in vain to buck further into his face. 

 You feel more than hear Erwin groan, a deep vibration that pours over your clit and makes you twitch. He gives you a few more long licks, then pulls back and stands, exposing the way his mouth and chin are covered in a glossy sheen. 

 “Feel better yet?” He smirks.

 You wave a lazy hand, don’t want to fluff his ego too much, so you allow him to witness your borderline stoned state while still jeering, “I’ll feel better when I have your cock inside me.”

 Erwin laughs to himself, mutters, “Eager,” then takes his pants off. 

 Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you give his cock a cursory glance and stop. “Hold on,” then slide off the bed and to your knees. 

 If you’re gonna fuck Erwin Smith, you’re at least gonna appreciate it. 

 He inhales sharply as you place your hands on his thighs, eyes traveling over his length. It’s pretty, above average in size, smooth, with a flared tip that’s currently flushing a dark pink. 

 “I really hate to admit this, but you could be, like, a dick model.”

 He chokes on some kind of snort, and you swear his entire chest turns red. “I—thank you?”

 “You’re welcome,” you tell him, promptly taking hold of his cock and guiding it into your mouth.

 “Oh, fuck, fuck—”

 His skin is soft against your tongue, warm as you take him deeper. His girth stretches your jaw, but you’re still pretty used to the feeling, had to get used to it with Mike because he’s a little bigger than—

 That’s not important. 

 Erwin breathes through his teeth as he places a hand on the top of your head, and when you look up at him through your eyelashes, he lets out a disbelieving little laugh. That confident fucking tease is nowhere to be found as you swipe your tongue over the tiny hole leaking pre then surge forward, almost pressing your nose to his pelvis as you run the muscle back and forth under the base of his cock.

 “Shit, let me—let me lean against the bed,” he says, pulling you off him and chuckling, “Gonna make my fucking knees buckle.”

 You turn where you’re kneeling, waiting for him to get better stabilized before resuming your efforts to ruin this annoying, charming frat boy who is always put together. You suck and slurp and trigger your gag reflex a couple times. Erwin’s fingers scratch against your scalp like he’s looking for purchase. He’s careful not to be too brutal as he pushes you down on his cock, raising his hips to meet your rhythm. His head is thrown back, thighs tensing under your hands as his chest rises and falls with short breaths. 

 You have to work up to it, but once you feel loose enough, you press forward and let Erwin slip further into your throat. His voice sounds like honey when he groans a low, “Hoooly fuck,” letting his head hang down as he attempts to stare at you with unfocused eyes. 

 “Okay, okay, okay,” he huffs. “Keep going and we won’t get to the main event.”

 You pull off of him with a lewd pop then raise to your feet. Your knees are a little sore, but it’s nothing some exercise won’t work out. 

 “Want me to wear a condom?”

 “I don’t care. I’m clean and on birth control,” you tell him. “What about you?”

 “Well, I’m clean, but I haven’t gotten my birth control prescription refilled in a wh—”

 You flick his chest, and Erwin laughs as he bats you away. 

 “Alright. Up on the bed with you then,” he motions to the mattress. “Lay on the edge.”

 You do as you're told, spreading your legs for Erwin to stand between, and you bite your lip when you feel him rub the head of his cock between your folds. You’re still wet with slick—probably dripped onto the carpet when you were giving him head—which makes the glide easier as he teases you. 

 “Ready?” He asks, wriggling thick eyebrows until you smile. He doesn’t wait for an actual answer before he starts pushing in, pressing your legs to your chest as he slowly seats himself in your cunt.

 You’re making that face—eyebrows moving toward your hairline as if you’re worried, jaw dropping open as air is pushed from your lungs. Erwin looks focused, licking his lips as he gazes down at the way your pussy stretches around him. 

 He thrusts in and out at a tortuous pace, apparently waiting for you to start trembling around him before he deems you ready to take more. Every one of his movements is measured, slowly pulling out only to push in all at once. The ridge of his cock drags over your g-spot, pressing firmly against it and making you claw at his shoulders. 

 He feels good, satisfying, but he’s not quite as good as Mike who used to hit all your spots without even thinking about it—somehow making you beg like a whore and sing like a little girl in Sunday school all at the same time. 

 Still, you don’t have to lie when Erwin quickens his pace and pants, “Feel good?” 

 “Fuck—yes, yes, Jesus Christ—”

 He’s pulling all manner of crude sounds from your pussy, wet and greedy as it sucks him back in with every rut of his hips. The angle is perfect—his height paired with the bed on stilts has him hitting your spot every time, and you feel the need to warn him, “If you keep—keep fucking me like this—god—m’gonna squirt.”

 “Fuck yes,” he praises, wetting a thumb in his mouth before bringing it down to massage your clit. He only speeds up as your voice rises, body confused like your muscles don’t know if they should be flexed or relaxed. 

 You feel that tell-tale burning, that urge that only gets stronger the more Erwin abuses your g-spot and presses against your clit.

 “Shit, shit, shit—”

 Erwin groans when fluid starts to trickle from you, pushes more and more out of you while quickly swiping two fingers over your clit. The sense of relief is mind-numbing. You can’t even be upset that your sheets are gonna be damp whenever you decide to sleep. 

 He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t lose his rhythm, just sticks his two wet fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean. 

 You see it now—the skill, the appeal, why the girls always come back to him. It makes sense. He’s devastatingly handsome, especially like this, all fucked out and flushed, hair out of place, lips red and swollen from biting them. 

 Yeah, Erwin is fucking hot.

 But, that doesn’t mean he’s your type. 

 Pulling out, he flips you onto your stomach, and you have to stand on your tip-toes as you lean over the bed. The burn in your calves disappears almost entirely when he slides into you from behind, pelvis pressing against your ass as he curls over you, cupping your tits and tweaking your hardened nipples as he gifts you with a series of shallow thrusts. It makes you whimper and teeter forward, unable to balance and squirm at the same time. Face suddenly buried in the mattress, your cries are muffled by the blankets. Erwin’s hands travel back to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his slick cock. He’s getting a little rougher, pressing into you as deeply as he can, and the fact that you’ll be sore from this tomorrow gives you a strange sense of satisfaction. 

 Only way to get over someone is to get on top of someone else, right? Or, underneath in your case. Being a little more in control wouldn’t be the worst thing, though, so…

 “Erwin, Erwin, fuck—Lemme ride you.”

 There is no hesitation. Erwin slips out of you and throws himself onto the bed, grinning crookedly as he watches you climb over him on unsteady limbs. His patience must have worn out some time ago, because he holds his cock with one hand, using the other to line you up with it, then guides you down his length. 

 You have to sit still for a second, or you would like to, but Erwin is still holding your hips, and he rocks you back and forth in his lap like he knows. He probably does. He’s probably fucked enough girls to notice exactly when their eyes pop open, when they shudder and break out in goosebumps because that pressure is hitting exactly where it needs to, and yeah, he knows. 

 Finding it in yourself to move again, you lean over Erwin, planting your hands on the pillows by his head, then start bouncing on his cock. He hisses in a dark, appreciative way, eyes and hands immediately drawn to your chest. He sits up enough to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and pinching then doing the same to the other. 

 He’s so good—feels so good, knows just where to touch, the exact place to bite on your neck that makes you melt, but how—how does he know that? It’s like he has a sixth sense or—

 Or, he just paid attention to the bruises that Mike used to leave on the sides of your throat. That checks out. 

 Fuck, he used to mark you like he wanted everyone to see, especially that last night. It was almost animalistic, like he had been—marking his territory, Zeke’s voice plays in your head. It makes you frown, and you rid yourself of the thought only to replace it with the memory of Mike’s mouth on your skin, his calloused fingertips trailing down your torso, huge hands wrapping around your legs to pull you against him—

 You whine, glad it sounds like a sound of desperation rather than frustration. You just want to stop thinking about him. Just an hour—if you could go a single fucking hour—

 “Hey, look at me,” Erwin commands in a soft voice. 

 You open your eyes, still hovering over him, and expect him to say something, but instead he just reaches up to the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. 

 He’s helping move you on top of him, forcing you to take his cock over and over, and like this, so close and breathing him in, you don’t even have the room to think about Mike. 

 Both of your bodies are damp with sweat, and Erwin’s hair is a mess, pushed from his flushed face. He bites down on your bottom lip and tugs, only letting go to ask, “Where do you want me?”

 “I don’t care,” you groan, legs and arms and pussy growing sore. You’re not surprised; you’ve been going at it for a while now. 

 Erwin licks your lower lip as if to soothe it after biting it, tells you, “Oh, don’t give me that option. You know where I’ll pick.”

 Smiling, you straighten up then move to fit your feet underneath you so you can bounce more freely. “You can come inside, dude. It feels good to me, too.”

 “I really don’t know how to respond to being called ‘dude’ when I’m balls deep in a girl.”

 You shrug, “Sorry not sorry,” then raise and drop yourself, feeling in charge for the first time tonight. 

 “Fuck—shit—”

 That feeling is short lived as Erwin goes right back to using you the way he wants. You think for about half a second that he’s finally, really losing himself, but the accuracy of his finger on your clit proves that is not the case. He’s clearly having a good time, but he isn’t at that feral stage that Mike falls into sometimes.

 Before you can dwell on it for too long, you hit your peak, moaning Erwin’s name, hips moving uncontrollably as you ride out your orgasm.

 He’s speaking, mumbling praise or pleas or curses, you aren’t so sure, but after about another minute of fucking into you relentlessly, Erwin comes, shooting line after line inside of you until he’s spent and twitching. 

 With your two previous partners, this is usually when you’d fall forward and cuddle, catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of being all plugged up.

 But, it’s Erwin, huffing and blinking up at the ceiling then finally stating, “That was a dumb idea.”

 It makes you laugh for some reason, probably because you agree. 

 The sex was great. There is a reason girls talk about him on campus, about his sexual prowess or whatever, and if you weren’t too busy suffocating in your little pit of heartbreak, thinking about your best friend nonstop, you wouldn’t mind fucking Erwin again. And, again and again.

 That’s not gonna happen, though. The heat of the moment is fading, every mental faculty returning to you, and despite the fact that you’re still seated on his cock, as you look down at him, you feel absolutely no spark.

 He’s ridiculously attractive, pretty fucking brilliant but with a dumb sense of humor, and you love him. You really do. He’s done a lot for you over the last semester, made it at least somewhat bearable, but… This shouldn’t have happened. 

 Hopefully, it quelled his curiosity, though.

 “I told you it would just make you feel shitty,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t look sad. Sympathetic more than anything, resigned that he’s probably going to have to pick up the pieces of another mess. 

 “Yeah,” you drawl. “You were right.” Your joints pop as you stand, towering over Erwin for once and leaking his fucking cum as you hop off the bed. 

 “It’s been known to happen from time to time,” he jokes absentmindedly, wiping a few drops of white off his stomach then reaching for the tissues on the nightstand. 

 You don’t feel awkward or out of place, but you have no idea what else to say. The only thing that comes to mind is, “I’m gonna take a shower,” as you walk toward the bathroom.

 Erwin moves on the bed, stretching a little before grabbing his pants and leaving you to your devices, but you pause before stepping onto the tile, turn back and pace over to him.

 “Hey,” you start, and Erwin glances up from the button of his khakis. “Thanks.”

 He rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips, and once he’s all zipped and buttoned up, he pulls you into a hug. 

 “I would say any time, but we probably shouldn’t do this again.”

 “Yeah, probably not.”

 You breathe into the space under his collarbone, humming as he gently scratches you back, then break away. “Alright, actually gonna shower now.”

 Erwin nods, “You do that,” then slaps your ass as soon as you turn around. 

 You look at him over your shoulder with raised eyebrows, but he just winks and tells you, “I had to. Just once,” which is fair. 

 You run a hot shower, scrub the shit out of your skin, lather your hair with some fancy shampoo then rinse it off. Once you go through your full routine, you’re happy to change into pajamas and slip into the comfortable bed. You don’t even mind that the comforter is a little damp in various places.

* You don’t stir when the door opens and closes, but you do when the mattress dips. Shifting slightly, you assume it’s just Erwin, falling back into your usual routine by slipping under the covers with you.

 As soon as he lays behind you, though, you know it isn’t Erwin. You recognize that weight, that warmth, that smell, and you are very awake very quickly. 

 “M-Mike?”

 All he offers is a little, “Mm,” to confirm.

 You chew on the inside of your cheek, confused and clueless as to what you’re supposed to do. 

 “Are you drunk again?”

 “No. Little buzzed.”

 Why is he here, then? You want to ask—What is he doing? Why isn’t he with Rhi?

 You start to turn to face him but you're stopped when Mike sets a hand on your back. It's oddly firm, keeping you in place as he grunts, "No, don't."

 "What?" 

 "Don't turn around." His voice is hushed and choppy, like he's gritting out every syllable. 

 "Mike?"

 "I have shit I wanna say to you, and I won't be able to if you're lookin' at me."

 You have no idea how to respond to that, don't know if this is going to be a positive one-sided conversation where Mike confesses deep feelings while actually sober, or if he'll just unload all the baggage you've given him. Either way, you wish you could see his face. Something about having him laying behind you, close enough to feel his body heat, has you feeling very uneasy. 

 But, you nod, "Okay," trying to put on a brave face that he refuses to look at. 

 For a while, he just breathes. You assume it’s because he’s gathering his thoughts or maybe working up the courage to say something, but the suspense is making you shiver under your blankets. You have that terrible feeling in the pit of your stomach, the mix of anticipation and regret you get on the way up to the first drop of a rollercoaster. 

 “Why have you been lying to me?”

 And, there’s that drop. 

 You swallow. “I haven’t been.”

 “Bullshit.”

 “Mike, I haven’t been!” You try to turn again, but his large hand is still right in the middle of your back. 

 “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” His fingers close around the material of your shirt. You feel it tighten at your chest, making it hard to breathe—harder to breathe. “How are you gonna tell me that right after sleeping with him?” 

 You open your mouth to argue, realize you can’t make a case for yourself, and when you snap your jaw shut again, the sound of your teeth clacking seems to echo in your head.

 Yesterday, you would have been able to talk to him about this and be honest when telling him you weren’t fucking his best friend. Now, though…

 God, that had been such a bad decision. Why hadn’t you just listened to Erwin? Why can’t you fucking listen to anyone?

 “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Mike mutters. His grip loosens, but you can still feel a light tug at your shirt, the movement of fingers, and you think he might be rubbing over the material he’s still holding. “Pretty sure all of us could hear you guys goin’ at it, so… Thanks for that.”

 You take a deep breath in, squeezing your eyes shut because it sinks in that this is not going to be nice conversation. This isn’t going to result in the two of you apologizing and making love confessions to each other. 

 “I… I’m sorry.”

 Now, you’re grateful for not being able to see his face. You wouldn’t be able to stand looking at him right now, not when you know his expression will be grim—probably angry. 

 “I can’t really do anything with sorry,” Mike sighs. His hand drops from your back, but you make no move to turn over. 

 Your heart is like a hummingbird’s, beating frantically in your chest as that ache rises inside of you again, making your throat constrict and your eyes burn. 

 “Why’d you invite Rhi tonight?” You ask, hoping your sniffle isn’t too noticeable.

 “Why does it matter?”

 You suppose it doesn’t, but you still want to know, “Is it to get back at me, or is it because you’re actually into her?”

 Mike scoffs. “Not that it’s any of your business, but do you think I’d be in your room at three in the fucking morning if I was into her?”

 It’s probably the closest he’ll get to admitting it, but it’s all you need to hear. He’s been going out of his way to hurt you. At least any pain you’ve caused him wasn’t intentional. Until tonight, that is, and even then, you didn’t fuck Erwin to hurt him; you did it to help yourself. 

 Pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, you hold back tears and mumble a thick, “Just wanted to know.”

 “Want to make sure I’m still interested? That I’ll keep waiting for you to fucking realize—”

 “I have—” You turn over roughly, pinning Mike’s hand under your ribs as you glare at him, but he manages to put more distance between the two of you when he yanks his arm back and sits up.

 “I can’t do this anymore,” he tells you, and you think you hear his voice waver for a second.  

 The orange light pouring in from the bathroom is the only way you can tell his eyes are wide—worried—and it chills all the blood in your body.

 “Wh-what d’you mean?” 

 “I mean, I can’t fucking do this anymore,” he repeats a little louder, drawing it out like it’ll help you understand. “I cannot deal with you anymore. I can’t keep feeling this way, okay?”

 “Mike…”

 “No,” he stops you, acts like he has something else lined up but bites his tongue and sighs. He sits cross-legged on the bed now, hangs his head as he speaks calmly, “This semester has fucking sucked. I am angry all the time. I can’t focus in class, and I can’t play lacrosse without getting in trouble, and I can’t fuck anyone else without feeling bad—I can’t fucking do anything without thinking of you, and I’m—” he looks at the wall and shakes his head. “I’m exhausted.”

 “I am too,” you tell him, voice cracking as that lump in your throat grows and bubbles, pushing hot tears from your eyes that you quickly wipe away. “Mike, I am too, so can we just—”

 “No,” he cuts you off again. “Whatever it is you’re about to say—move on, pretend it didn’t happen, pick up where we left off, whatever… the answer is no.”

 He seems like he already has his mind made up, came into the room with a plan, and he isn’t gonna let you talk him out of it. 

 So, you stay as silent as you can, sniffing and swallowing and letting the comforter catch every teardrop. 

 “I have been… Right in front of you this whole time. I made myself completely available for a year—was at your beck and fucking call. I was—I mean—I was good to you, right?” He sounds incredulous, like he can barely believe he’s asking. 

 “Yeah,” you manage. “Yeah, you were.”

 “Then, why…? Zeke? And, now Erwin?”

 “Do you want me to try to explain, or do you just wanna rant for a while?”

 Mike glances at you, looks surprised that you’d give him the option. 

 “Honestly, I don’t really wanna hear it. You’ve more than proved your point.”

 Indignation swirls in your stomach alongside your nausea, and you press, “My point being?”

 “That I’m not good enough.”

 Oh, god. No, no, no. You could understand him being angry. You’re okay with him being angry, it’s fine. But, this—this feeling of inferiority? That is so much worse. It makes you sick. This is the last thing you’d ever want Mike to feel. It’s the last thing he should feel because it’s false. He has no reason—he’s too good and too kind and too warm. He’s like… He’s fucking sunshine. He can light up a room, and he doesn’t even know it.

 “Mike, n-no,” your voice breaks, making you sound like a wounded animal. “You are so, so good. You are more than enough, I promise.”

 He snorts in a self-deprecating manner. “Then, why—”

 “Because I��m not good enough. I fucked this up. This is my fault, and I can own that as long as you know that there is absolutely no—nothing wrong with you,” the last part comes out as a squeak as you try not to hyperventilate and cry the way your body is urging you to. Not yet. 

 Mike nods a few times. You can see his mouth moving from the side like he’s biting his lip or sucking his teeth until he agrees, “Yeah,” then adds a quiet, “Whatever you say, babe,” that makes you want to throw up.

 Mike scoots to the edge of the bed and stands. You assume he’s about to leave, let you be alone with your thoughts, so when he rounds the corner to get to your side, you sit up a little straighter. 

 Half of his face is illuminated, casting shadows under his eyes, highlighting the bruise on his neck that Rhi probably left, but your gaze is trained on his as he leans down to you. A finger hooks under your chin, and Mike tilts your face at an angle, kissing you so softly that it’s painful. 

 His lips are warm and familiar, everything you’ve been craving as they cover yours. There’s no tongue, no force, just light pressure as he inhales through his nose.

 You know what this is, what he’s doing, but you can’t prepare yourself because there’s still that tiny string of hope you’re grappling for. He just needs a break. You just need to give him space. That’s all—

 “I love you,” Mike murmurs. His voice is low and honest and slices you open. “I love you so fucking much it hurts, and I just—” He brushes a thumb over your lower lip as he pulls away, and it takes everything in you not to grab his hand and beg him to stay. “It’s like I hate you too.”

 You pull away to wipe your face with the blanket. There’s so much you want to say but have no idea how to articulate it, so all you can do is stare at Mike with wide, watery eyes. He… hates you. He hates you. 

 Straightening, Mike’s expression is suddenly nonchalant, like he just flipped a switch in his brain. “I’m not exactly the social butterfly I used to be, but I wanna have fun my last semester of undergrad—make up for the time I lost fucking brooding over you, so—”

 “I’ll stop going to the Pike house,” you tell him quietly. It’s easier to make the decision yourself rather than have to hear it from his mouth: Don’t come around anymore. I don’t want to see you. 

 “Cool. And, if you, like, see me on campus or anything—”

 You cough, maybe gag, you can’t really tell at this point because wow, this just keeps getting worse. 

 “I won’t bother you.”

 “Cool.” He bends to press another much more patronizing kiss to the crown of your head, then starts walking toward the door. “I’m just gonna try to move on, you know? Start fresh. And, you should do the same. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.” 

 You don’t watch him leave, just listen for the door to click shut behind him before you crawl out of bed, turn the lights on, and start packing your things. 

 You and Hitch drove together, but you have no doubt that she'll be able to get a ride with Nile, and with that thought, you’re out of the ranch house and on the road just as the first rays of the morning sun start shining over the horizon.

 *

 It’s surprisingly easy for Mike to slip back into his old, obnoxious persona, and the remainder of the school year is spent partying, fucking, and cramming for tests he should have studied for weeks in advance.

 But, life is short, and he’s done beating himself up over stupid shit.

 Most of his PKA brothers are happy to have him “back”, and the pledges get the chance to see this of him, but there are times when Mike catches Erwin or Nile shaking their heads at him. He doesn’t mind much. They can both go fuck themselves for all he cares. 

 True to your word, you don’t show your face around the house. There were a few weeks after the holiday get-together where Erwin would disappear for a few hours at a time and come back either tired or angry, sometimes a combination of the two. 

 He attempted to bring you up in a conversation a total of one time, right in the middle of a party where Mike had been eyeing up a sorority girl. He brushed his friend off, easily telling Erwin, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to me about her,” through the crooked grin he was flashing at the little blond across the room. 

 Erwin didn’t bother after that, obviously deeming Mike a lost cause. 

 Mike knows better, though. He isn’t lost anymore. In fact, he’s found himself all over again.

 Every once in a while, he’ll catch a glimpse of you on campus, but whenever that happens, he just turns around and takes a different route to wherever he’s going. He doesn’t want to give you any reason to think you can talk to him—doesn’t want to give you the chance.

 He’s spent too much of his time hung up on you, too much time pining and hurting, and that hasn’t disappeared entirely. Mike can still clearly remember the way you looked at him the last night the two of you spoke, the way your tears twinkled in the dim light. He remembers how strangled you sounded while speaking, remembers the way your shoulders shook as you fought your emotions, remembers the way your lips trembled against his. 

 It wasn’t very satisfying. Mike left the ranch house the following morning sporting a few bruises on the outside thanks to Rhi as well as a few bruises on the inside thanks to you. 

 That entire night had been a clusterfuck—between Maddie and Marie storming off to cry then the little stunt he pulled by inviting Rhi, it had been much too dramatic for a gathering of that size. Mike experienced a wide variety of emotions that night, but the one that stands out the most is the searing rage that threatened to burn him from the inside, the red the clouded his vision as soon as he heard you moan Erwin’s name through the wall. 

 Mike had already been toying with the idea of severing all ties with you, but that’s what pushed him over the edge, watching you put on your little show when Rhi walked in only to turn around and have a grand fucking time with his best friend. 

 It needed to happen. Mike needed to free himself of you. It feels good. Mostly. There are still some days he comes close to giving in, just picking up his phone and calling you, but he resists, and he’s better for it. 

 He gets through his classes, does well on his finals after actually putting in the time to prepare for them, and by the time Mike graduates, he’s already been accepted to the graduate program of his choice and has an internship lined up. The tension between him and Erwin has faded for the most part, which is great since he’s going to grad school in the same area up north. Things look… promising—something he didn’t think possible without you by his side, something he didn’t want to be possible without you by his side. 

 But, now, here he is, unpacking his new apartment with the help of Scout who insists on sniffing absolutely everything. He’s halfway across the country from his parents, away from all he’s ever known, and Mike couldn’t be more thrilled about it. 

 He can go full days without sparing you a thought now, and he hopes—he prays—that one day he’ll think of you for the last time in his life. 

[ next ]

[wulfies-kpop-fanfics]

One Photo → Mark Lee [3]

↳  Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳  AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳  Word count: 3,063

↳  Chapters: Prelude | 1 | 2 | You Are Here! | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

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

WEDNESDAY - 3

The sun is shining brightly through your window when the morning stirs you awake. The curtains of your room are wide open, and just outside you can hear the songs of two birds in the near distance. Groaning, you wonder how you managed to get in bed, swearing that you had just been watching Infinity War with Mark.

You slip out from under your covers, grabbing and putting on your glasses that were set neatly on your desk. You realize once you stand that you're also fully clad in soft pyjamas. Confused, you wander out of your room and out to the living area. 

“Rhi?” your meek call into the kitchen and living room was met with silence. Holding your sides in a sort of self-hug, you wandered into the kitchen and looked at the stove time. It was around 10:30, and your class alarms never went off, so today must be a day where Rhiannon had class and you didn't.

Your thoughts put together what happened after you fell asleep in the moments after your fatigue was washed away in the shower, and you spend the rest of your morning poking at a bowl of cereal. Your days off usually meant staying in your pyjamas all day, playing Overwatch on the PlayStation you brought to your dorm from home or trying to take photos of dust particles if it was sunny enough. 

You didn't know whether to feel alone or content in the first moments of your day. Time passed as it always did, taunting you with anxiety and making you worry about not getting anything done. It eventually compels you to start cleaning, ticking off little boxes on the chore chart attached to your fridge. You're not sure how long you've been absorbed in sweeping the floors, but eventually, you're brought back from absent daydreams because of a gentle knock on the door. 

“One moment!” you call out, putting the broom back where it belongs and smoothing out your hair. You lick your lips and approach the door, opening it and looking straight into the face of Mark. 

“Hi, (Y/N),” he greets you cheerfully, gingerly holding out a small bouquet of flowers out to you. 

“Hi,” you answer softly, clearly surprised that he's there. “Thank you…”

“Rhiannon gave me a code to sign into the building as a guest,” he explains, “I want to take you out on a date if that's okay.”

Gingerly you take the flowers, a mix of tulips, sunflowers and roses. You smile up at him, a little embarrassed that you're not completely decent in front of him. “I'd like that, but…”

Mark raised his eyebrows. “But?” he repeated.

“I'm, uh… I need to get ready.”

Mark looks you up and down, and his face goes red. He smiles awkwardly at you and nods. “Okay, I can wait.”

“Okay. Make yourself at home and I'll get ready,” Mark follows you inside and watches you put the bouquet in a large glass that you fill with water. “I'll be right back.” 

You stare at yourself in your full-length mirror for a while as soon as you close the door to your room. After taking off your pyjamas, the scar on your body stands out. You're definitely not used to seeing it, and you're feeling a little worried that it will draw more attention to you than you want.

Once you remember that Mark is waiting for you, you choose a pair of blue jeans and a loose pink top. Smoothing out your clothes, you stare at yourself. You haven't been on a date since high school, and after that date, your crush stopped talking to you- he believed too much in only dating the one you were made for, and it broke your heart.

“You can do this,” you told yourself. “He likes you. He's your soulmate. It's fine, you're fine. It's fine, we're all fine. Don't freak out." you took in a deep breath, making your way back out.

Mark was sitting politely on your couch, and once he noticed you were back, he immediately stood, smiling. “You look great,” he said, approaching you.

You felt a twinge in your chest and you felt your cheeks get red. “So do you,” you manage to mumble, watching as his smile grew wider. 

“Are you ready?” he asked, holding out his hand for you to take. 

“Yeah,” you gently took his hand, and after you got your shoes on and grabbed your little drawstring backpack, the two of you stepped out and began your day.

It almost felt like a dream, walking and talking with Mark. The two of you got ice cream together and sat in a small park, feeling the cool dew of morning turn into the sunny warmth of the afternoon. 

“Have you ever been on a date?” Mark asked as the two of you were walking through a crosswalk to Union Station.

“One,” you answer. “Back in High School before I left home. I really liked him, but I knew we weren't going to be soulmates. It was when I wanted to be rid of the soulmate trope once and for all- live life scar-free, y'know?”

Mark frowned at you for a moment but then nodded for you to continue. He leads you into the building and toward the escalator that went down into the station.

“He took me out, bought me dinner and we had a good time. He took me home that night and he touched my shoulder… it was the first time he and I had physical contact. The next day at school we were both scar-free, and he told me that he didn't want to see me in that way anymore.” you half-smiled at Mark, tightening your grip on his hand.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “You won't have to deal with that anymore, I promise.” 

“How about you?" You almost felt afraid to ask him, a twinge in your chest affirming that you may not even want to know his answer.

He smiled. "Not really, no, unless you count Johnny taking me out for dinner when he debuted with 127." 

You raised your eyebrows. "Really? You're so good looking, though." Wind rushed through your hair as you both went down the stairs into the main station, the subway car you were to board whizzing through into the station. 

Mark blushed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "I didn't have the time. I was too busy thinking about my dream and my career. But now that I do have some time, I really am happy I found you."  

You both climbed onto the subway car, Mark holding you close as the busy subway filled up. He was smiling cheerfully at you, red still dusting his cheeks. You returned the look, wondering how you could have gotten so lucky.

The two of you saw Avengers together at the Yorkdale mall. Of course, you cried, trying your best and failing to keep your sniffling silent. Mark took your hand in the dark of the theatre and squeezed it gently, making your heart flutter and your lips quiver. 

You both decided to shop around after the film finished, sharing an enormous poutine in the food court once Mark's stomach began to audibly rumble. Mark was wolfing down the food at a breakneck pace, making you giggle at him once he managed to get gravy on his cheek.

"Slow down," you laughed, reaching over the table to wipe his cheek with a napkin. "Next thing you know you'll get it on your shirt."

Mark paused for a moment, a little surprised at the touch. "Not like I have a photoshoot later," he joked. "It's been years since I've had poutine." 

You licked your lips. "Maybe, um, I would like to take pictures later?"

Mark's eyes widened. "Really?" 

You nodded and smiled sheepishly, taking a bite of your fries before you missed your chance. "Just to make sure it's all real."

"(Y/N)," your name left Mark's lips, sounding like sweet sugar and honey. It sent shivers down your spine. "I can promise it's all real, but if you want, we can take some."

"Wow," you sighed, examining Mark's face. He was already so picturesque, no makeup, no hairspray or crazy visual design. He finished off the fries, another blob of gravy somehow made it onto his cheek, which made your eyes travel to stop at his lips. You licked your own, not even catching yourself thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. 

Mark stared back at you, resting his head on the palm of his hand. "How long have you been thinking about taking pictures?"

You perked up and managed to make eye contact with him. "In general or just of you?" You asked shyly, tapping the corner of your lips with your finger. "You have more gravy on you."

Mark laughed bashfully and wiped his face with a napkin. "Uh, both, I suppose."

"I've loved taking pictures since I was a kid. I didn't know I wanted to do it as a living until I started to take pictures of nature with my phone camera. After that day in the forest with my grandparents, I knew I had to drop out of my biology courses and go into photography instead."

Mark nodded as he listened. "That's really admirable," he said, making you blush again. He stood, gathering up the tray and tilting his head as a gesture to join him.

You cleared your throat and continued with a shy smile, "I, um, just really want to take pictures of things I like, and… uh, you have always been one of them." 

Mark put away the tray and took your hand, "there's no need to be embarrassed about it," he laughed quietly, "I like you too." 

You felt at home with Mark, warm and happy. Your heart fluttered more and more when he looked at you, smiled, or talked with you. At random times you'd want to take a picture, he'd stop and pose for you. Whether it was silly, romantic or a chic fashion-style photo in the subway station on your way home that evening, he did it for you.

The camera you kept with you in your little drawstring bag was now full of photos, ready to be manipulated (not that you really had much to touch up anyway) and saved to your computer. Perhaps you would frame your favourite one. 

The night rolled over you both like it had when you first spent the day together, which was only a few days ago, but it felt like a lifetime. The roads of Toronto were quieting down and the street lights were beginning to bathe the walkways in a soft amber glow. When you returned to your building, you didn't want to go in. 

"We should both rest," Mark insisted when you clung to him in a hug. "Big day tomorrow." He still wrapped his arms around you and pressed his cheek against your head gently. 

"What?" You looked up at Mark, confused. He leant back enough so he could look at you, a smile dancing on his lips.

"The guys want to take that one photo tomorrow. In the park with all the cherry blossom trees. I knew it was the place I wanted the night you took me there. You kept staring off in the distance, and once I figured out why, I wouldn't even consider any other place you would suggest if I had asked." 

"Mark-"

"Don't be embarrassed," he assured you quickly. "I really like that about you." 

"Well, I…" you were trying to avoid eye contact with Mark, not quite able to handle the compliments. "I'm looking forward to tomorrow," you say quietly, pouting, "but I still don't want you to go." 

"I promise that after it's done, we will spend the entire day together, okay?" Mark placed a finger under your chin gently. "Sound like a plan?"

You couldn't hold your pout while making direct eye contact, so it melted away into a reluctant smile. "Okay." 

The two of you went inside, walking down the hallway together toward the door to your apartment. When you arrived, you held both of Mark's hands. "Text me when you get back safely, okay?"   

He squeezed your hands gently. "I will. I'd like to do one more thing, though, if it's okay with you." 

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Like what?" 

Your heart began beating wildly in your chest when he smiled at you. Mark was such a wonderful person. On the surface, he was confident and funny, but below that was a shy and quiet nature, that knew what he wanted but didn't quite know how to get there. His hands left yours and instead cupped your cheeks. 

"This," his voice hit your ears so softly that you almost didn't hear it. Once he leant toward you, you caught on. With your heartbeat audible in your ears and your stomach doing acrobatics, your lips met. 

It was chaste, borderline experimental, soft and nervous. When he separated from you, he rested his forehead against yours for a moment. "I thought about doing that all last night," he admitted. 

"Do you really expect me to let you leave now?" Your question came out with a quiet laugh, almost letting yourself get carried away when Mark's hands left your cheeks. 

"I expect you to be reluctant, but I really do need to go," he's smiling sadly at you, "I just had to know what it was like before I left." 

"You owe me," grabbing his hand for one last moment before he turned to leave. 

"I'll pay you in full," he said with a grin. "I promise."

"Be safe." 

"I promise. I'll text you!" With that, he was gone. 

You nearly screamed the moment you heard the large doors to the building click shut. You had just kissed him. Mark Lee kissed you. Taking in a deep, shaking breath, you dug into your backpack and shakily grabbed your keys to unlock the door to your apartment. As you were opening the door, you felt resistance for half a second and heard quick scrambling on the other side for another half a second when you pushed your way inside. 

The first thing your eyes met once you walked inside was none other than your best friend. 

"Sorry," she said bashfully, hands behind her back. "I, uh, wasn't expecting to get caught." 

You rolled your eyes, grinning at her. "Are you apologizing because you were spying on me through the peephole or because you got caught?" You raised an eyebrow playfully at her. 

"Look, we both know which one it is, so I'd rather not make myself look much worse." 

With that you both are laughing, Rhiannon takes your bag for you and hung it up on the small coat rack while you took off your shoes. 

"I've been texting Haechan; or should I say Donghyuck now..." she said as the two of you sat together in the kitchen, Rhiannon applying a face mask to your skin. She was already wearing hers, perfectly attached. "He's been helping me with my Korean grammar, which according to him is quote-unquote atrocious," she says, patting your face gently before taking her seat again and leaning back.

"Well, you've never had a proper teacher," you remark. "It's incredible you can keep studying it with all the dental stuff you have to do. I can't even keep my studies up and I have less of a school workload than you." 

"Sometimes I think you're just lazy," she said teasingly. "Considering you just made me put a face mask on for you." 

"Don't hate, you know I can never get these stupid things on right. Anyway, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to come to the boys' shoot tomorrow. You can show off your vocab in person, your spoken is way better than your texting." You looked over at her, watching her frown beneath the moisturizer mask. 

"But I have a lab tomorrow," 

"Well, how about you meet us then? High Park, in the cherry blossom area where you like to people-watch while I take photos." 

Rhiannon hummed. "If you wait for me, yeah. I'll pack an outfit in my bag to change into after." 

You smiled. "Good, I wouldn't want to miss watching you meet Haechan in person." 

"Like I'd ever let you miss that. Unlike you, who went to meet Mark, Johnny and Jaehyun without me."

"Hey," you whine, "you knew I had no idea they were gonna be there."

"Yeah yeah, make up all the excuses you want."

After your masks came off, you washed your face and changed into your pyjamas. Slipping under the covers, you checked your phone. There was a text from Mark, which you probably got while you were doing masks with Rhiannon. 

Mark: I'm back safe

Mark: I really can't stop thinking about it

You: I'm happy you're safe, sorry I couldn't reply, was doing face masks 

You: I can't either

Mark: It's ok

Mark: I'm getting ready for bed, all the guys are pumped for tomorrow, and the concert is getting closer 

You: are you nervous? 

Mark: A little, but I will be less so knowing you're going to be in the front row 

You: I'm thankful I can be so close, I've never been in the front row of a concert before 

Mark: itll be loud, bring earplugs

You: kay, I will be able to hear still right? 

Mark: oh yeah, for sure hahah 

Mark: It gets super loud, I don't want your hearing to get hurt 

You: thank you for worrying about me

Mark: always :) 

Mark: We will meet you around 11:30 in the park along the path where you and I walked

Mark: See you tomorrow, we should probably sleep

You: Okay, I'll see you

You: Good night Mark

Mark: nighty night (Y/N) <3 :)

You: <3

You were barely able to put your phone down to go to sleep. The day was constantly running through your head, especially your first kiss. Your heart fluttered, your stomach flipped, and you felt like you could squirm under the covers of your bed enough to tie yourself up in blankets. 

When you finally managed to drift off, your dreams were entirely of what the future could hold. 

[buckyreaderrecs]

Bucky Barnes and the Girl With Too Much Power: Chapter 4/?

Summary:  Nobody knows about your power. You’ve never really wanted to use it, let alone hurt someone with it. But, someone has figured you out, and now they’re following you. There’s only one place you can go for help - The Avengers. Good news is they’re good people. Bad news is your power is entirely relevant to soft, sad, recovering, broody Bucky Barnes. Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. 

Chapter 4: You have to leave behind the life you knew. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker Additional tags: Bucky needs a hug, recovering Bucky, mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists), angst, possible future smut (who knows, not me), mutual pining, reader has powers / enhanced!reader, she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with future chapters

Notes: I haven’t updated this fic in months and monthssss. Let me know if there are any continuity errors, and if this is still a fic worth me plugging away at. Thank you for any and all support! xo Rhi

Bucky Barnes and the Girl With Too Much Power Chapter 4/?

There was nothing comforting about having Stark-employed agents tailing you. Logically you knew that besides maybe a well-placed and patient sniper, nobody would be able to get close enough to hurt you. Not with spiders and witches and falcons watching over you. Certainly not with the last remaining Howling Commandos on your side.

Although you couldn't see him, even when you tried to covertly spot him, you could feel Bucky. You could feel him watching you and you knew it was him because it wasn't like before. It didn't make you feel sick with dread.

All of that was probably in your head though.

More tangible aspects of the situation were the beads of sweat rolling down your spine and pooling in the small of your back. Very real was the awkward pace you were keeping - definitely faster than a casual walk but a solid attempt to appear calm and normal.

It had been decided that you would walk the entire way home. It was doable, but you'd usually catch the bus. The people who wanted you would have to see the future to know when and where you'd catch a bus, but that wasn't outside the realm of possibility. Not anymore. So, you walked for 40 minutes.

…

Unless he wanted you to see him, Bucky Barnes was invisible. He'd always been good at camouflage, but programming by Hydra included 'how to disappear 101.' And under your power, it was like that again. Not a single soul saw Bucky as he followed you block by block. There wasn't even a gust of wind left in his wake to alert people that someone… something, had gone by.

Entirely focussed and keen eyed, Bucky watched your strange gait. If there was no power clouding his mind, he would have smirked a little; even Hydra couldn't take the sass out of him.

After he climbed through an unlocked bedroom window and landed on the floor behind you, Bucky stood up straight at attention. You were on your hands and knees, pulling things out of the bottom of a closet. There was a duffle bag in there somewhere, you were sure.

"Yes!" you whispered to yourself, standing and spinning around. The yelp that escaped your mouth sounded through Bucky's earpiece to the other Avengers situated in, on, and around your apartment building.

"Buck?" Steve asked, muscles already poised to move.

"Package is safe," Bucky replied, no emotion in his voice. The lack of it went unnoticed by Peter Parker - who was still too new and in awe to know Bucky beyond reputation and limited interaction. He didn't mean to, but Bucky had avoided Peter; he reminded him too much of pre-serum Steve. However, Wanda, Sam, and Steve all heard the tone, and all frowned to themselves from their respective positions. Nobody did anything though.

"You scared me," you said as soon as you yelped. When he didn't move, speak, or even shrug it off, you were reminded of your spell. A small, sad, "Oh," was uttered. "Stop. You can stop your… mission," you ordered him.

It didn't work. Maybe it wasn't specific enough. Without a lot of practice, you really weren't good at using your power when you actually needed to. You realised that you shouldn't have given Bucky a complex and prolonged order in the elevator.

"Ah… Relax. Be yourself…?" you tried. Bucky's blue eyes simply remained fixed on you and he went to speak, but you cut him off. "Oh! Ignore my previous order. Do not… feel compelled… to… Fuck. What did I tell you to do?"

"Make sure I get to my house safely. Help me get what I need, and bring me back here," Bucky said, repeating your command word-for-word. It was unnerving.

"Yeah… Don't… Don't do that. Unless you want to. Only do that if you want to."

When his posture gave (by only the slightest amount), you breathed out. It had worked, but you weren't sure exactly which part.

"Bucky?" you asked gently. Bucky smiled and it felt like rain in a drought. "You okay?"

He nodded, being much more used to giving non-verbal responses. Sam's voice was in his head though, encouraging him to speak, pushing his recovery forward faster than Steve's love alone could do. "Yeah, I'm fine…"

You could hear it in his slow drawl- that slight cognitive lag people sometimes experienced after your power left their minds and they were free again.

"I'm sorry,"

"No, darling', you don't have to keep saying that. It's alright,"

"But-"

"Please," he interrupted. He shook his head slightly, but it was enough for you to see he didn't want to talk about it. "You did good,"

"I just… walked," you replied.

"Yeah, but that isn't easy when you think someone's about to kill ya,"

"Wow. Reassuring. Thanks," you said sarcastically, moving around him to put the bag on the bed.

Bucky chuckled, then sat down next to the bag.

"Aren't you gonna, like, check the cupboards and stuff?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Christ, how unprofessional do you think we are?" From the dresser you were digging through, you looked over at him and shrugged in confusion. "Stark had people in here as soon as he figured out where here was,"

"Guessing that was pretty quick?"

"Yep," Bucky replied, popping the P sound purposefully.

"So, random people have been going through my stuff?" Looking around, nothing seemed out of place. It was unnerving, actually.

"Not random. People Stark trusts,"

"Do you trust them?"

But he hesitated and he saw that you'd seen. He couldn't but smile a little. "I don't not trust them."

Thinking for a couple seconds, you decided on, "Probably fair…"

Bucky nodded, and you continued to pack. He decided it wasn't worth telling you that in the very early hours of the morning, after the city was asleep and just before the sun woke up, he'd gone to your apartment too. Clues in the cupboards. Secrets under the seats. Anything really. Steve had been awake when Bucky slipped out. He'd thought maybe Bucky was checking for Hydra. Or possibly, Steve hoped, his best friend was driven by the fact that you looked a lot like a couple of the girls Bucky had charmed before the war meant anything to them.

Bucky followed you as you went room by room, filling the duffle, then a backpack, then an empty shopping bag.

"You planning on never coming back here?" he asked, mostly joking. When you stopped, moving like a deer in the headlights, Bucky realised. "Oh…"

"Am I? Am I coming back?" you asked, on the cusp of hopeful. The glimmer of it in your eyes killed Bucky.

"I don't know," he answered, voice a little too soft to be comforting.

Looking around your apartment, you tried to look brave. "I guess… it doesn't really matter. Hadn't really built much of a life anyway,"

"Of course it matters, Y/N."

Before you could say anything else, there was a loud knock on your door, followed by the shrill voice of your neighbour. "Y/N?! Did I just hear ya come home?! Where've ya been?!"

You and Bucky turned to each other at the same time, both expecting the other to do something.

"She's not gonna go away," you whispered.

"Make her," Bucky said.

"I don't want to use-"

"No," Bucky interrupted. "Just talk to her…" His tone implied the 'obviously.'

As soon as you swung the door open, Barb went to step in.

"Ah, sorry, Barb. Bit of a mess in here… Did you need… something?" you said, stopping her.

She eyed you suspiciously, tried to look past you. "You didn't come home last night,"

"Stayed at a friend's,"

"That's lovely… Which friend? That nice Lisa girl?"

"No, um, new friend. James."

Bucky almost laughed.

"A boy? I didn't realise you were dating." She emphasised the last word like it was taboo.

Normally, you'd be better at dealing with Barb; she meant well, but was incredibly nosey. Normally, you didn't answer all her rapid-fire questions immediately, but you were nervous.

"It's not like that. He's just a friend,"

"That you spent the night with,"

"Barb, it's 2020. We can be friends with guys now,"

"So defensive, Y/N! Must really like him," she said with a knowing smile.

"I'm just on my way out, actually,"

"Such a social butterfly all of a sudden. I was just coming over to see if you're alright,"

"I'm alright. And I appreciate it. I really do. I'm just… a bit busy right now,"

"Alright, alright," Barb said, holding her hands up in surrender. "I know when I'm not welcome-"

"No, Barb, it's not-"

"No, no, it's fine." She took a step backwards.

"Barb-"

"When will you be home then?"

Fuck.

You tried to look over your shoulder into your apartment as casually as possible. Glancing at Bucky, all he could offer was a shrug. You realised then that you would have to lie, really lie.

"Actually… Might be gone for a while. Got family upstate that need me."

Barb was quiet for a second, searching through everything she knew about you. "I hope everyone's alright," she settled on. She wanted to say that she didn't know you had family upstate… or any family at all, for that matter.

You'd lived in the apartment complex for five or so years. Barb had always looked out for you, especially since her kid went off to college. She'd met a couple of your friends, heard about work, but never once had you spoken about family. Barb hadn't pressed, although she very much wanted to. Something inside her was keeping her from doing so.

"Yeah, yep… They will be," you replied, nodding.

"Okay… Well, you'll have to come over for tea when you get back?"

"I will. Thanks, Barb."

She left.

Bucky watched you close the door, lock it out of habit.

Your eyes were full of tears. "I can't come back here," you whispered to him. "If someone is after me, I can't bring them here,"

"They probably already know where 'here' is," Bucky replied, almost immediately knowing it was the wrong thing to say. "But," he quickly added. "If they were gonna do anything, they'd done that already."

Bucky didn't believe that to be true at all. More likely, the people following you, upon discovering your sudden disappearance, would try to draw you out. If they knew Barb was a friend - it could make her a target.

You watched Bucky's expression. You read the lie. You didn't need to force the truth out though. You let the fact that he was trying to reassure you, reassure you.

"We'll keep surveillance here."

You nodded, moved slowly to continue packing.

Bucky stayed quiet, watched, tried to remember all the details of your apartment. Maybe they'd come in useful at some point.

"Okay, I'm ready," you announced.

"There's a car downstairs waiting for you," Bucky said.

"You're not coming?"

"I'll go out the way I came," he answered. When you didn't move, he added, "You'll be okay… Steve and everyone… they'll look after you." He wasn't lying that time. "Go."

Slinging bags over your shoulder, you nodded and left Bucky Barnes in the apartment you would never return to.

What would happen to the rest of your stuff? Would Stark pay for a storage unit? Pay your rent? What about work?

By the time you got to the car, you were again, on the verge of tears.

Upstairs, from a window of your apartment, Bucky watched you leave. He made a note to tell someone to teach you not to get into cars without checking if it was safe first. You hadn't even asked to see the driver's ID.

"She's aboard," Bucky relayed into coms.

"Copy that," Steve's voice came back. "Buck?"

Bucky was in his head.

For longer than Steve liked.

Chapter 5 is coming soon...

Tag list for this fic (open): @animegirlgeeky @brighteyedmichelle @howthehellisbucky @bitterstar88 @thatweirdwalangpake

Tag list for all my work (open): @bubbabarnes @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter @fairislesheets - still won’t let me tag you?

[coldgaybitch]

Diagnosis

Chapter 1: A new label

Its been less then 24hrs since I received a phone call which kind of confirmed my thoughts that I might have BPD but hearing a medical professional saying it just kind of solidified it. 

At first I was beyond happy to receive a diagnosis, finally I had something that helped me explain to people why I sometimes acted the way I did. I never really found something that described my personality so accurately and put my thoughts into words. 

I had a lot of trouble with sleeping recently and quickly kinda fell asleep and when I woke, nerves and concern over what this now meant for me crept it. I wanted to have someone near me tell me what to do, give me some sort of instruction but many things stopped me. 

The person who would understand this the most (a fellow psychology student) was celebrating one of our mutual friends birthday in lockdown and I did not want to be selfish and interrupt with my messed up feelings and conflict on my friends birthday. 

Later I had a DND (dungeons and dragons) session with them and some others over discord due to social distancing many of them were in homes or with each other while I was kinda stuck alone in student accomadation. Just before the session was meant to start I started crying and wailing, I felt weak or overcome with emotion that I just did not know how to handle. It was like a volcano erupting. I kinda slapped myself together and joined the session and explained to the person running it (the DM) what had gone down and not to say anything. They were kind and understanding and said if I need a moment I could step away. Me being stubborn said I would be fine and carried on through the game. 

Once the session finished, I kinda pounced on my psychology friend and asked if I could talk to them. I needed their kinda motherly and psychology understanding brain to help me work through things. However, they were housing another friend through lockdown and they were on the couch with them when I asked and I could see them wondering if they should go or stay. I made the decision to let them stay, even though I did not know them that well, they kinda got my head. Understood things that others did not.

Anyway I describe that I got my diagnosis and that it was EUPD (emotional unstable personality disorder otherwise known as BPD). They both sat with me as I kinda hid behind jokes and sarcastic comments as I tried to hide how nervous and scared I was. 

Anyway they stay as long as possible but they had to go talk to an old friend that they had scheduled too talk to and I felt kinda calm enough to kinda not break down. The keyword being “kinda”.

SO they both send separate messages of support saying they don't view me and differently which kinda makes me feel weird. Like I’m glad because I have not changed, I just got a kinda got a new label added to me:

                                   Rhi - Nerd - Goth - Gay and now with BPD!

Though at the same time I was like but now you kinda are looking at me a new way or is that just my anxiety talking. enkvbdfvknvods (begin the war with my head over what others are actually thinking of me).

So now how to rip of the mental band aid and tell my other friends that I have a personality disorder. It was kinda like coming out all over again but this time for a mental thing (I hate the word disorder or illness that is used to classify BPD with other stuff - but that's a different kinda emotional rant...thing). 

Anyway I put it as bluntly as possible and my friends are all supportive, bloody soft bastards (okay so maybe I care for them but this is me and admitting emotions and feelings which make me feel weak and exposed to people so not going to tell them that). 

Next Chapter: Telling my father - Fun times ahead. 

So telling my dad went just how I thought it would go, he asked if I was joking and having a laugh and that its impossible for me to have it for how could I possible have BPD. I’m very much a textbook case. You know the examples you have beneath a word in the dictionary, I feel like my name and life was written under the description for BPD. 

Anyway he kinda says he wants to talk about it more face to face when we have the chance, but quickly changes the subject to when I will be coming home from Uni. 

So I have no idea, thinking the coming out to my dad went okay...maybe..kinda..urghh

Chapter 3: Random other events of the day

Anyway after all this I kinda go through a rollercoaster of emotions. I update my uni counsellor service with my diagnosis. I go to the giant Tesco right beneath my accomadation to grab snacks and food to stuff down on. I get my period (great just the thing I needed - thanks mother nature, always looking out for me  :l )

I join a friends new rpg server, which I nothing about and I go for a walk late a night and become a three year old child excited about a bat flying around this small wooded pathway which is not hidden away but always feels safe and private from everyone else to me. 

Chapter 4: Right now I am feeling and doing this..

Anyway now I’m sitting on my laptop blasting Spotify, reading gay korrasami fanfiction and hoping someone else reads this and kinda tell me I’m not to crazy for feeling all this. 

Very much also in need of a hug but will have to have to settle for virtual ones. 

Also the mother psychology friend one told me jump on tumblr because it would help...not sure how this will all go.

Anyway that's it for now. I have BPD

FUCK MY LIFE

[ftdamien-blog]

hi, everyone!! my name’s sam and i really like apples!! i live in the est, go by she/her pronouns, and currently am 22 years old!! ok i suck at introductions but basically?? i still haven’t caught up on stranger things and i’m too much of a chicken to watch buzzfeed unsolved past 1pm. anyway, he’s my mess of a son, damien!! i love him a lot and i hope you will too!! more info below the cut:

WOAH THERE ! I see DAMIEN SAPPIER walking the streets of Twillingate looking rather solemn for only having 21 years olf life. Usually their friends would describe them as BENEVOLENT and OPEN-MINDED but they can be quite the gremlin when OBSTINATE and RECKLESS. They spent a handful of their time practicing [ DRUMS ] for Past Life, so the sudden death of their bandmate has been taxing on their craft. At least they have their friends though! People in town like to say they could be the twin of RICHARD HARMON, but they don’t really see the resemblance.

damien is both the mom friend who makes sure everyone is wearing their coat, and the dumbass friend who must be reminded not to down an entire bottle of tequila in one go.

he grew up with a single father and an older sister, and was overprotected for a long ass time, which means he was quite naive for a while there.

when he started being exposed to, ummmmm, life, he got a bit intense and started to enjoy the pleasures of life a little too much.

basically, he doesn’t know when to stop for his own sake. he’s super caring when it comes to others, but when it comes to himself, he’s an absolute mess.

he’s stubborn af and will never admit that he’s wrong.

honestly you could come up with blue antennas and yellow polka dots all over your face and damien would not?????? judge????????? it’s not that he doesn’t care it’s just that he tends not to be judgemental of others

he’s bi and very very proud of it

wears a shirt with “bi” written on it in glitter to get revenge on the straights who do stuff like that

actually it’s not really revenger he just finds it fun

hmmmmmmmmm

is a cat person bc he got bitten by a dog as a kid

doesn’t like ice cream but loves frozen yogurt

is allergic to chocolate

probably blames himself for evan’s death bc he believes he should have done more somehow :)

pretends everything is fine by acting like a complete idiot and drinking a lot

makes dad jokes

hides how broken/sad/upset he is over evan’s death by always trying to make others smile and being there for them

he’s just,,,,, so caring yet he never takes care of himself lmao

trusts other people too easily

i’m now adding things bc i don’t want this to be the same thing as his about page

he and evan were almost step-brothers at one point but their parents broke off the engagement at the last minute and honestly????? both he and evan were saddened by it bc they had lived together bc of their parents and bonded and aha thanks rhi for that “i don’t care what happened with our parents, you’re my brother.” thing :) and yeah later on when they were older they moved in together and when evan had the idea for the band damien helped him out with finding people and stuff and

he really misses evan :) i hate life :)

he doesn’t think much of himself tbh like he would never believe that someone could have a crush on him or something like that 

[ramblingsbyrhi]

some spoilt brat type wall of words

What I’m about to write isn’t going to be pleasant or enjoyable or uplifting in any way, shape or form, so consider yourself fairly warned before you complain about my whinging as the ability to stop reading is entirely yours.

This stems from the troubles I’m having with my iphone.. hear me out, a web has begun. I’ve had iphones since I was 17, I’ve been through a few of them. I’ve never had major problems though until recently when my camera started malfunctioning for absolutely no apparent reason. At first it was only through apps and then the actual camera itself started shaking and wobbling, so any time I wish to take a photo I have to use the front camera. Which I understand is absolutely the biggest first world problem, but still, I paid over a thousand dollars for a product that I expect to work for a very long time, not for a couple of years then “HEY! We’re releasing unnecessary new products.. oh, whats that? Your phone broke? Well, my! How convenient!”.

Then the classic YOU ARE LOW ON STORAGE annoying as all fuck message started appearing contiiiinually no matter how many things I went through and got rid of (funny how it used to hold over 1000 photos and now it struggles at 5.. just saying is all). I thought, okay, I’ll try the update, that might fix a few bugs, right? Wrong. Try as I might, the iOS update WOULD. NOT. INSTALL. for various reasons, including but not limited to: lack of storage, no internet connection (the wifi was full, hmm), ERROR *insert some number that I googled how to fix, to no avail*, and pretty much no reason at all, just “failed.” Thanks Apple, I really appreciate those hours of my life you wasted. No, really, I probably wouldn’t have done anything productive with them anyway and the anger inspires me.

Everyone’s saying things to me like “Ohhh my god rhi, why don’t you just get the new phone when it comes out?!”. Yeah, that’s all well and good for the average Joe Blow who doesn’t mind the monthly hundred dollar bill. And you know what? That was me not all that long ago. In fact, earlier this year I did try to update my phone and plan however had a MAAASSSSSIVEEE battle with optus who a. sent me the wrong phone b. could not help me in getting the right phone c. agreed to cancel it and nevermind the upgrade because I was over it by then and they said they’d send me a satchel to return the phone in d. never sent me the satchel e. instead sent me a fifteen hundred dollar bill f. finally understood why I didn’t deserve the bill and sent me a satchel g. sent me more ridiculous bills h. sent some debt collecting company after me i. FINALLY helped me get to the bottom of why the fuck I was being sent the bill j. FIIINNALLY agreed to me paying thirty dollars and the account’d be settled k. didn’t bother clearing things up with the debt collectors who wouldn’t leave me alone no matter how many times I explained to them that I literally owed no money as it was Optus’ wrongdoing (I was given various instructions as to clearing my dads [oh yeah, to make matters worse optus refused to put the phone into my name but were more than happy to have me open up a new plan under it] name by several employees of this company, none of which worked).  BIG BREATH. So in the end I was glad because instead of paying almost a hundred per month to have a flash new phone, I kept my (what WAS) in-perfect-condition existing phone, and saved money by only paying for the calls and data etc. per month.  So now my response to the upgrading suggestion is why? Why should I have to pay more money because of something I already paid a lot of money for that isn’t working, when it should be in order? Why would I pay thousands of dollars for something, only to have to pay thousands more to replace it when it should last, being worth a thousand dollars and all? What the fuck? CONSUMERISM IS INCREDIBLE!

So you can imagine my feelings towards Apple and Optus right now. Which got me thinking about how reliant we are on these absolute piece of shit companies who cannot get it together despite how large they are and how many people have come to depend on them. DEPEND. It’s true, it really can’t be denied. We have come to RELY on always having phones and internet with us, one hundred percent of the time. I toyed with the idea of not having a mobile, because fuck it and fuck them taking all my money for me to still lose. Plus, 10 years ago I got by fine without having one so why can’t I now? And that’s the thing. I’m honestly starting to feel like as a society who have been spoilt with technology, we have become so dependent on it and every single thing we could need being accessible, that it would be weird and at least difficult to live without. Imagine my boss when I tell her I don’t have a mobile anymore, and she’d have to call me in on my home phone (which yes, we do have, but I know many people now do not. WHAT?? HOW?! because on the internet they are RELIANT!). I can’t imagine she’d be very pleased if I were out doing groceries or at the gym or, I don’t know, just enjoying my day off, and she needed me to come in ASAP but I was not at home to answer her phone call. But that’s how things worked not all that long ago, people lived that way and dealt with it. And imagine if I had no/no access to social media. How would I make friends or remain in contact with people, or start “talking” to a guy? That’s how it goes now, isn’t it? You meet or hear of someone you take an interest in, and straight to facebook or Instagram you go, and the rest is history. We joke about it, but it’s true! Is there another way people get to know each other now? Do people even text anymore now that everyone’s all over messenger?? TEN YEARS AGO PEOPLE!!! Life honestly changed in the blink of a fucking eye. A generation ago people kept in contact without all this shit, and they managed to marry and have babies and maintain lifelong friendships! CRAZY. I honestly feel like if the internet and social media were stripped away we’d be beside ourselves (especially those who go t rid of their home phones ;) ).

It’s all too easy and far too accessible. You really can find out too much about someone so quickly now, I imagine privacy and its definition will soon work itself into language of history alongside all that Shakespeare mumble that I regretfully do not understand. And I thoroughly believe that not only is our reliance on the ease and accessibility overall negative, but as is the impact it has upon everyone’s mentality and relationships. Or, what relationships have become with the bittersweet evolution of the www. Which would be what? What are they? What do young, and even older people want these days in regards to a relationship? Let me rattle off a few ideas, great suggestion you! The term “facebook official” is no longer a joke, it’s become a serious indicator about everyone’s status, which, is now apparently the business of everyone they know and a few randoms they’ve accepted in their friend requests along the way. Once two people’s relationship is officially recognised on the FB, I think they’re supposed to chuck up a few pics (ones with kisses on cheeks and selfies in adventurous looking locations, so people know they’re blossoming) and tag each other in emotional statuses, and memes of course. That way everyone can monitor that they’re still happily in love and evolving as a couple. Instagram pics a must as well, and a little mention of each other or at least the inclusion of each other’s initials in the little bio are also a standard requirement I believe. And that way, once the pics stop being uploaded or are deleted, along with the initials and the “SHARE WITH: PUBLIC” relationship status, everyone can know that things didn’t quite work out and they’ve dived back in with the other fish and considered a potential catch until they decide to have a bite of the next one, and the process repeats.

And repeats. And repeats. Or, doesn’t repeat. Because all of that really IS a huge commitment. Like, not only is keeping up appearances online an awful big exercise, but so is the stuff from the olden days that unfortunately we’re still supposed to do a little bit of, like spend genuine time with your SO, surprise them with gifts and flowers, introduce them to your family, begin your futures together, not jack off over other people’s instagrams, commit. Oh, my apologies, how silly of me to suggest that nan and pop jacked off over other people’s instagrams! Hahaha. No, back then these factors never came into play, because they didn’t exist. And by no means am I saying that pop never had a look up another girls ankle length skirt as she paraded up the staircase with a boy from out of town at the local dance, hell, he probably did that several times. PER DANCE. Or flirted with the bar lady at the pub after work, before he came home to nan’s incredible cooking and kept home. But he didn’t get the barmaid’s name, he didn’t look her up on facebook later and sneakily chat with her on MESSENGER while nan did the washing up god bless her. He went home and they became your grandparents because they committed to each other, despite nan checking out the milkman’s bum as he trekked back up the driveway of a morning, or pop watching the perky young woman next door whose bedroom window was positioned in his viewing favour.

They didn’t have the ease of access that we have not only taken for granted, but have let shape us in shitty ways. I truly feel like, and disagree if you want but I know it exists, we’ve become so used to accessing unlimited amounts of people, that we’re always wanting more. If Beyonce is going to get cheated on, who won’t? Is cheating nowadays even the same as it was twenty years ago? Ten years? Is flirting and or exchanging nudes over snapchat cheating? Because nothing physical happened, right? People these days ask for “nudes” (and I can say this with experience) before hardly getting the name of the nude-ee, and I can only imagine the number of requests sent to various people, and the variety they’ve seen, or unfortunately kept. With accessibility comes a massive lack of respect, and it has to go without saying that the concept of respect, and where it is given and deserved, has changed dramatically since pop first kissed nan’s hand at the dance. A “nude” back then would’ve had to have been strategically photographed, developed, enveloped, stamped, sent, waited for, received, and then cherished and kept under the bed, whereas now one could’ve requested and received ten different ones in the time it took me to write this fucking sentence, and even sent two on to his or her equally tasteless mates.

Not to mention the fact that he or she asked ten different people for them would go unquestioned. What is this “talking” that people do anyway? Any time someone has suggested that they and I did “talk” or are “talking” I shudder so hard Christchurch would prepare to rebuild. I think commitment is completely different to what it once was, what with tinder and the like and phones with locks on them and snapchats that disappear, no one has to be loyal to any one person if they don’t want to, and why would they? Why commit to one cake when you could taste a few on the regular, then replace them with the right swipe of your index finger when you feel like it? “Talking” doesn’t refer to anything serious, I don’t think. It’s like when you could probably get it on with someone but you aren’t letting people know about it because you’re “talking” (fucking, I presume) to a couple of other people as well, but you aren’t doing anything wrong or disrespecting anyone really because you aren’t dating you’re only TALKINNNGGG. Have I got it? Can someone confirm, or correct me? I’m so dying to know. And there are that many gorgeous humans in the world, no one can blame you for wanting to window shop and even go try on some things whilst doing so. There’s always going to be a prettier dress, or a comfier hoodie, or a new colour of vans. You can’t just buy the first or fifteenth you see, just in case. Missing out would be THE WORST. And you don’t owe it to any of them to discuss the predecessors or… (what’s the word for predecessors but happening at the same time? anyone? no word? funny that) if you are only talking and you’ve made it clear that that’s all you want. No commitments or relationships here, no sir-eee! And then suddenly your 30th birthday is coming up and you kind of feel like maybe you should have built a life with someone by now but you were too busy gaining notches in your belt and you still aren’t sure which dress you want the most so maybe you’ll give it until 35 before you make a massive decision and settle down and stop unknowingly spreading chlamydia. Maybe. There are far too many babes on Instagram to get through but hopefully another five years will get you close.

I do apologise for the tangent and apparent change in tone, but like I said earlier a web really formed in my mind at the shit performance of my phone. I suppose what I’m kind of but super not really getting at (or trying to, at least), is as great as technology is, I do think it’s really fucked up (a better term cannot be accessed at this time, not unlike the iOS update, strange). The idea of growing up around the time that my dad did, or even before, constantly lingers in the back of my mind. And yes, believe me I realise how pathetic that is coming from me as a type this contradictory slab of words; please understand that I’m grateful for the ease in which I can type up my thoughts as they occur, then share them and quite possibly connect with someone anywhere in the world who can relate at the mere click of a button and copy of a link (poor old pop might think I’m talking about imitating a chain). But I do sometimes feel like a lot of us have missed out on developing respect for each other and relationships of our own in ways that we’ll never even come close to within our society. We don’t put up THAT much of a fight at the fact that companies suck us in and take us for all we’ve got because they KNOW we can’t live without them and the latest and slimmest ever phone in existence. And I can only imagine living like this will only intensify and worsen as we advance in technology and the speed in which we can slide into people’s “dm”s. Maybe it’s me, maybe it’s all in my head, but I decided a long time ago to stop holding my breath if even Beyonce had to.