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shurisneakers · 4 years

Text

shut in [4]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, threats

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: greetings everyone!! how are we all doing? i have nothing to say here tbh so anyway stan sam wilson being a lil shit whenever possible.

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Alright, thank you.”

You hung up the call, trudging back to the house, discarding the battery along the way.

The air had a chill to it and there was an occasional breeze that went past, rustling leaves providing an eerily comforting background score. The temperature tended to rise as the day went on but nights were especially cold due to the abundance of trees.

Even though the stress of the situation you were in constantly consumed all your waking thoughts, you still found the time to appreciate how beautiful your surroundings were.

The last few days were barely memorable. Sam and you tended to stay out of each other's way unless your meal time coincided or you watched the local news together. The schedule had worked out favourably.

He wasn’t very hard to live with.

Most of the time.

His commentary and small jokes were never-ending but were not as unwelcome as you initially thought. It brought some much needed light into your otherwise dreary day. When it came to figuring out how to do laundry due to your now extended stay or whose turn it was to do it, things got a bit messy but were resolved quickly.

He used to disappear often for hours on end. You never concerned yourself with going after him to find out where he went, figuring that unless he was hatching a plot that led to your demise, he was entitled to his own privacy. He’d return a while later, calmer than when he left.

It was fine. Nothing to write home about. Neither of you were dead yet.

“What are you doing on the bed?” You were reconsidering your last thought when you walked into the bedroom to resume your self-interrupted sleep, only to find him face down on the sheets. “It’s my day today.”

“Just give me some time. I’ll be out of here soon enough.” His voice was muffled as he spoke into the sheets.

“You can take all the time you need tomorrow when it’s your turn.” You swatted at his legs, earning a grunt of chagrin from him.

“Go eat some soup and maybe you’ll calm down,” he fired back, unmoving.

“Today’s not soup day. Which you would know if you paid attention to our schedule. That we made. Together. The same schedule which says it’s my turn today.”

He groaned, shoving his face deeper into the pillow. “My back’s killing me. Just give me a few.”

“Why, what’d you do?” you asked curiously, letting go of his leg.

“Combat training. Took a few beatings, fucked up my spine.”

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“It comes and goes.” Sam finally rolled onto his back, giving you a view of his face. His bone structure was amazing, even from quite possibly the ugliest angle you could have over him. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

You just stared at him as he linked his arms behind his neck, elevating his head to look at you. He had a small stubble that was starting to grow longer. You wondered if he would shave it. He looked good regardless.

“How’s your beloved?”

“Huh?”

“The person you keep sneaking around to talk to on the phone. I’m not your dad, y’know. You can talk to them inside the house, ‘m not gonna ground you,” he quipped, a small, teasing smile on his face.

“He’s not my lover. Just... an acquaintance.” You felt the awkwardness starting to set in after you trailed off. “Anyway since you’re awake, we need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?”

“What happened that day. We’ve been avoiding it but we need to figure out what went wrong. Or at least a clue.”

“Okay,” Sam agreed, wincing as he sat up straight. “How do you want to do it?”

“Just talk me through how you got put on this mission and what exactly happened that day, I guess.” You took a place on the bed, leaning backward on your hand for support.

He nodded, delaying for a second to collect his thoughts before beginning.

“So basically-”

The sun was particularly relentless that day.

The ringing bell above the door of his favourite coffee shop was a welcoming sound. The barista smiled at him in greeting, asking if he wanted his usual to go.

His park bench was empty as it always was. Sam liked to think of it as a small gift from the universe; the fact that it was perpetually unoccupied.

He liked to sit there and watch people’s day go by. His iced coffee-

“I don’t really require that much detail.”

“Patience. I’m getting there.”

It was arguably one of the most peaceful days he had had in awhile, and he was hoping to keep the streak going. Nothing seemed like it would phase him, not even the phone ringing, drawing his attention away from the scene in front of him. Caller ID didn’t trace who it was.

“Hello?”

“Wilson.”

Sam gripped the cup so hard he thought it might spill over onto his jeans.

“I told you not to call me, Ransone.”

“But honey we had such a good time last night,” he faux cooed, “You know I have needs-”

“I’m not getting involved in your stupid organisation, Vincent. I told you I’m done,” Sam broke in, not wanting to waste time listening to his stupid dramatics.

“Listen here, Wilson.” The swift change in his tone was looming, threatening. “You’re done when I say you’re done-”

“Wanna bet?” Sam took a sip of his coffee. “I thought we made it clear in Detroit that we’re done. Honey.”

He added the last part out of pure spite just to get a rise out of him. Much to his glee it seemed to work as Ransone let out a deep exhale before continuing.

“That was before we found out there’s a mole in my gang. I want you to kill him.”

“This is way below my pay grade. Have one of your interns do it. Your shitty murder warehouse hasn’t seen much action in a while.”

“This is Pierce we’re talking about. If he’s working for another organisation, his ass is going to be so guarded, these kids couldn’t wouldn’t even get past the gate. Besides, you know my murder warehouse is for special guests only-”

“Man, it must suck real hard to be you right now,” Sam didn’t wait for him to complete his sentence. He finished the last bit of the drink he had left, gathering his things before standing up. “Find someone else. I’m out.”

“You might want to reconsider that. We found him.”

He stopped in his tracks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam said steadily, grip on the phone tightening.

“I think you do, though. Had us fooled for a while there, thinking he’s dead. A little more research, some cash into the right pockets and boom! There he is, clear as day.”

Sam felt a chill go up his spine.

“He doesn’t know we know. We’re just keeping an eye on him for now.”

“If you even fucking think of touching him-” his fists were balled up, struggling to keep his anger from rising.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.” Ransone laughed. “I’ll just have one of my interns do it.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Ransone. It’s not somethi-”

“Do this hit and I’ll leave him alone,” Ransone interjected. “You’ve worked so hard to pull him from our radar, Sammy. It would be a shame if it all went to waste.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. Suddenly the day didn’t seem as bright as it was a few minutes ago.

“I’ll text you the details. You tend to leave me on read so I thought I’d make it more fun. Do you want the confetti with the message or the lasers-”

Sam just hung up the call, feet firmly rooted in his spot. He had no idea what he was going to do.

The notification of a new text alerted him. Pierce’s address along with the exact timeline of when he’d be home.

It was across the country. If he botched the mission on purpose, Ransone wouldn't be able to find him for a few days at least, much less reach him. He could go on the run-

‘Do it or he dies.’

His train of thought was interrupted by a picture that made his blood boil.

Especially when it exploded with the stupid confetti effect.

“Okay, basically he threatened you with something to go do the hit.” You didn’t ask him what exactly he was threatening him with and Sam didn’t really elaborate.

“Yeah. Didn’t leave me with much of a choice. He’s batshit fuckin’ crazy anyway, I knew he’d do whatever he felt like.”

“So you ended up going.”

Pierce didn’t seem to get many visitors. Not that anyone could be blamed, this guy was one of the biggest pieces of shit Sam had had the misfortune of meeting.

Over the two days he had staked out in front of the mansion to find out if this guy had as much security as Ransone had boasted of, Sam had come to the conclusive truth that no, he very much did not. He had a standard home security system which was lacklustre compared to the rest of the house.

Maybe he just assumed that being a senior member of the mob would garner some fear to his name. Dumbass.

He found the tall shrubbery surrounding the property to be out of the line of sight of the camera, and climbing it wasn't very hard. He landed softly on the manicured lawn, adjusting his gloves and checking his surroundings before pulling his gun that was secured in the waistband of his pants.

He removed the safety, keeping it close to him as he stalked through the front yard.

The red car parked at the side earned an eye roll from him. If he had one, there was no doubt there’d be more. He just had to find a basement or garage.

Walking around the house, he kept close to the wall, searching for any opening to the basement.

It didn’t take long before he found a set of stairs to the exterior entrance of the basement. He checked to see if anyone was around before making his way down them. The lock was unsurprisingly easy to pick.

The basement was mostly dark save for a few strategic lights placed to highlight the magnificence of his several race cars. The man was moved slower than the second coming of Jesus. The cars just seemed like an overcompensation.

The switchboard was not difficult to find. He pulled open the cover, glancing at the switches before turning all of them off, plunging the whole basement into darkness. If his security system was as outdated as Pierce was, it would have turned off along with the rest of the house.

“Oh, that’s why the cameras weren't working when I showed up.” Bits that seemed amiss were beginning to place itself together the more his story progressed. “I assume you entered the house through the window on the side?”

“Sure did.”

Your guess was right. He’s the reason why it was ajar by the time you arrived.

As soon as he entered he had his gun raised. Scanning the room as he went past, his senses were dialed up to eleven. If he was really under the protection of Serpentine, they were doing a terrible job. He had gotten in completely unscathed.

As he made his way deeper into the house, the sound of some movie playing became louder. But he had cut off the power supply to the house.

His eyebrows pulled together tightly into a frown, he made his way down the hall towards the sound. No one was in the dining or living room he canvassed.

Finally, Pierce’s silhouette became clearer. He appeared to just be sitting there idly while a smaller screen played in front of him. It wasn’t a TV, just an iPad.

If Pierce was asleep it would just make the job easier. Gun raised, Sam made his way into the room silently.

Pierce was still. Sam raised the gun, taking a step closer.

A floorboard creaked.

He immediately cringed, shoulders tensed as he came to an immediate stop. It seemed like forever as he waited for Pierce to wake up, to brandish a gun and try and defend himself.

He didn’t.

Taking a step to the side, Sam moved diagonally. Each one was slow. Ready for any sudden movements from his end.

He finally stopped in front of Pierce.

A bullet hole in his forehead. Eyes open. Chest still.

He was dead.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Sam breathed out, lowering his gun. Pierce’s glassy eyes stared blankly ahead. He didn’t look like had been dead for too long.

A soft thud in another room made his head snap up. It was in the same direction from where he came.

He silently moved backwards to the corner of the room, hoping that the darkness was enough of a disguise as he saw someone stalking down the hallway.

“And that’s when you come in. Thought you were comin’ back to make sure he was dead.”

“I had just got there. Saw that everything was off, and just assumed it was a power outage.”

“What about you? How’d you end up there?” Sam had his legs crossed, leaning forward to listen to you.

“Ransone told me that there was a spy who was sending information out for nearly two years. Needed him gone and he wasn’t sure if his other agent would show up-” you mentioned to him- “I guess that’s you. Told me I had an opening at 8pm. When I got there, the CCTV was off. Found the window open so I just used that.”

You were replaying your memory, step by step to remember what exactly you had seen.

“Heard the movie playing, found no one when I went down the hall. I saw the car keys on the island, which came in handy later. Entered the room, pushed his head with the gun and he just slumped over like a damn rag doll. That’s when you made your grand entrance.”

“Got one chance to make an impression. Had to make sure I looked cool, emergin’ from the shadows and whatnot.”

“It doesn’t make sense though.”

“Ouch. Thought it was pretty legit, actu-”

“No, no-” you waved him off. “Not your entrance. The henchmen thing.”

He paused, mulling over what you said. “If he was working for Serpentine, he would have been more careful. Why did they show up after he’s dead?”

“I don’t think they work for Serpentine. If Pierce was giving them information, they wouldn’t kill him.” You had good reason to be confident about that. You thought you did, from previous assessments.

“Unless they were scared that he’d switch again,” Sam suggested. You looked up from your fidgeting fingers to him. “Didn’t want any of their secrets going back to Ransone. They got to him before we did.”

“Why’d they shoot at us then? If they killed him and left, why’d they wait for us to show up? Why did they try to kill us?”

“I think we’re ignoring the important thing here,” he paused. You looked at him expectantly, prodding him on. “How did they know we were coming? They should have killed him and disappeared but they expected us.”

You tilted your head. “Are you saying-”

“There might be more.”

“Pierce might not have been the only one,” you finished. “There are more spies.”

“Tipped ‘em off. Told them we were going to be there.”

“And killing us was just to poke Ransone with a stick,” you murmured, eyes downcast, fidgeting with your fingers again. “But that just seems random. It doesn’t make sense.”

“None of this makes sense, sweetheart.” Sam scoffed, leaning back again.

“We’re missing something. There’s something wrong.” You looked at him. “If it’s just a random attack, why did they release our face to the whole fuckin’ country? Why are they specifically targeting us?”

“Finishing what they started. Covering all their tracks from that day. If we’re not dead, we’re a liability.”

“What if it’s not Serpentine at all? What if it’s another gang?”

“Serpentine has the most motive.”

“We don’t know that.”

He looked at you incredulously. “I think there’s substantial evidence to suggest they fuckin’ hate us. Besides, they’d want me dead specifically.”

“Why?” you inquired, eyes narrowing.

He opened his mouth like he was going to explain but closed it a second later, leaving you guessing.

“Fine, but it doesn’t mean they’re the only ones who do.” You made a point to ask him later or at least conduct your own research into it.

“Okay,” he said, shifting to lean on his elbows, “who else could it be? If Pierce was working for Serpentine and Ransone found out, sends someone to kill him, it’s essentially an attack on one of their own members. I’d say that's a pretty good motive.”

“I don’t know. Hydra doesn’t like us either. There’s Ten Rings too. But Serpentine just doesn’t work out.”

“How are you sure?” he asked. “You a spy for them too?”

You rolled your eyes at him as he raised his eyebrow. “It doesn’t make sense. What if we’re missing something? Did we go through everything?”

“I just went through my entire story down to the most irrelevant details. Twice. Nothing’s missing on my end.” He pushed himself off the bed, taking a long stretch before looking back at you.

“I think we should do it again. Just to make sure.” You rotated your torso to look at him. “We can figure it out-”

“You’re going to lose your mind if you keep at this any longer for today. Take a break.”

“I can’t take this lightly. Everyone’s out there looking for us and there is no one we can trust-”

“And going through our stories for the third time today is going to solve that how?” He had his hands crossed over his chest like a stern parent.

“I’m sorry but our faces are probably plastered in every damn police precinct in the country,” you snapped, “And I think that us remembering something some stupid detail might actually help rather than, I don’t know, taking naps and eating sandwiches. So no, I’m not going to drop it. Because I actually want to get out of here.”

You didn’t mean to sound so angry with him. He had told you everything twice already and patiently answered questions that you had. You didn’t think he was lying. You had no way of knowing but you hoped that some sort of allegiance was being formed between you both.

There was silence for a minute, leaving enough time for the guilt to creep in when he didn’t fire back. It’s what you expected.

“I’m not asking you to drop it. I’m saying take a break,” he said calmly. “You’re thinkin’ enough for the both of us anyway.”

You let out a small exhale, forcing the edge to retreat from your voice.

“I’ll be back in a while.” With that he turned around and left the room. A few minutes later you heard the backdoor open and shut.

Great.

You massaged your throbbing temples, eyes closed. He was right. Your mind wasn’t clear and you had been at this for hours. You wouldn’t be able to think critically.

Or at all.

You dropped back on the bed, grabbing a pillow and pressing it to your face. The coolness of the fabric felt nice.

You just let out a sigh, turning to your side to hopefully get some sleep.

_____

You woke up what seemed like hours later to a dark room.

It took your eyes a while to adjust stepping out into the hallway illuminated by the light in the kitchen.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice rang out. “Made you a sandwich.”

You rubbed your eyes groggily, looking where he was pointing. Sure enough, there was a sandwich on the table. He sat at the seat adjacent to it.

“Thank you.” You contemplated sitting next to him for dinner. It would be a first.

In the end you just grabbed your plate, giving him a half smile before making your way to the couch. You settled on sitting on the floor instead, leaning your back against the foot of the sofa.

The TV was already halfway through playing Megamind so you just let it continue, mindlessly chewing on the bread. As far as peanut butter sandwiches go, it wasn’t all that bad.

“Wilson,” you called out sheepishly, eyes not leaving the movie. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t right.”

“It’s okay.”

How he let go of it so easily was beyond you. The sandwich was surprising too, but you took it, not wanting to change his mind. He couldn’t have poisoned it. You had checked his stuff.

You sat in silence for the rest of the movie. Your mind kept slipping in and out of thought but it was a comfortable atmosphere you found yourself in.

After the credits started rolling, you went to leave your plate in the sink. Sam brushed past you, grabbing the blanket at the foot of the couch, launching himself onto the cushions.

“What are you doing?” you asked, puzzled as he snuggled in.

“Going to sleep?” He tilted his head to look at you.

“Use the bed.”

“It’s your turn today.”

“Your back’s fucked up. I’ll take the couch.”

He didn’t budge.

“Go on.” You mentioned to the room with a shrug of your shoulder.

“You’re not going to let me argue, are you?”

You pressed your lips into a straight line to hide a smile, shaking your head lightly.

“Well, okay.” He let out a small noise as he got up. “Guess I’m sleeping business class tonight.”

Sam walked past you, careful not to bump into you. You swapped places with him, making your way to the couch, readjusting the blanket that was haphazardly left there.

“Y/N.” You peered at him from the corner of your eye, only to fully turn when you caught his gaze. “I appreciate it.”

You just nodded, tossing the blanket over yourself as he switched off the light.

Next part

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sharkfish · 5 years

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ps i loved this one

(rereading bookmarks edition)

i’ve been rereading stories from my bookmarks as a comfort thing. i’m getting real deep in there to stuff i haven’t (re)read for years, and damn do i have good taste. the ones i’ve read recently that you should, too:

(under the cut so i’m not that asshole that makes you scroll past an endless post)

A Change of Scene by SurlyCat

When Dean goes over to see his Dom on Christmas Eve, he isn't expecting Cas to play naughty Santa, and neither of them is expecting how it turns out for them.

ooooomg fuck me up with that sex to lovers thing featuring bdsm. yessssss

A Room of His Own (or not) by Valinde (Valyria)

Dean took a deep breath and reassessed the situation. He was in bed with a guy, sure, and technically they were snuggling, but it was Cas. The guy had absolutely no reference on what was appropriate physical contact between two dudes sharing a bed in the... normal, completely unsexy, no-funny-business, way.

cas is fallen, dean is confused (what else is new), A+ cuddling. that’s the fic.

Boys On Film by LoversAntiquities @tragidean

But maybe that’s what it is—maybe Castiel’s finally realized something Dean is too chicken to admit, despite the fact he’s been jerking off to the idea of Castiel fucking him for the past few weeks. The idea warms him as much as it pains him to think about, his friend not being able to talk to him about something like that. That has to be it—it’s the only explanation. Castiel likes him.

“Or maybe he knows you do cam shows.”

Dean chokes on his burger.

idk what to say, i love a good sex worker fic and here you go. @tragidean is always here with that first-class content.

Castiel's Angel by Valinde (Valyria) @valinde

The angel took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. He was fidgeting Cas noticed. Usually he was so bizarrely at ease in his human form, lounging around and tossing winks and smirks at anyone with a pulse. That more than anything had Cas straightening on his stool and wishing he was a little less tipsy.

“Ineedyoutogroommywings,” Dean muttered in one long, almost unintelligible, string. He was blushing.

all my fellow wing hos should flock* to this fic. i also love me a good switcharoo with angel dean (and hunter cas, as this is an alternate canon universe). and dean gets all claim-y, which is also my jam.

*this was unintentional but a pretty funny joke

For Science! by pm_lo

Selected transcripts and supporting materials from Dr. Castiel Williams and Dean Winchester’s seminal study on physiological and psychological sexual response by gender designation.

i believe this was the first abo fic i added to my bookmarks. story time: many, many moons ago, i kept track of my reading list. i was doing that “50 books a year” thing so it was mostly for tracking that, but i had another tab for fics, because i read few enough that i could track them. i rated things and sometimes left notes, and by all the abo ones i was like “don’t tell anyone i read this.” yes, i shamed myself for liking abo. it was a dark time in my life.

anyway, then i read this, and was like, all right i can see what’s going on here.

this is a great fic for multiple reasons, and the format is one. it’s written as dialogue-only transcripts from their experiment. it’s hard to make that kind of format work, but pm_lo ain’t fucking around.

Just a Stranger On the Bus by Amelia_Clark

December 31 9:32 PM When Castiel boards the bus in KC, they think it’s empty at first—but when they toss their backpack onto an aisle seat and climb in after it, there’s a muffled yelp from the dimness at the back of the bus. They turn in time to see a man in a faded Carharrt jacket, sitting up and yawning as he rubs sleep out of his eyes. The man’s hair is greasy and matted down on one side, and there’s drool on the side of his face; nonetheless, he’s ridiculously good-looking.

“Hey man,” he says. Castiel does not correct him. “This can’t be Chicago.”

the non-binary tag, just like the trans tags in general, are a house half-built and left to rot in the rain. even if that wasn’t true, this series is goddamn amazing. also there’s rimming. also there’s a line in there that said something like “they don’t dislike their body, it just never felt like theirs” and i had a lightbulb moment irt my own experience. did dean ever wear carharrt in the actual series? if not, mistakes have been made.

Just Turn Around and Go by PorcupineGirl @porcupine-girl

Dean should be happy. His best friend and housemate of five years, Castiel, is moving out to live with his boyfriend, Balthazar. Dean's career is going great, so he can easily afford the house on his own now. This is just growing up, moving forward to the next phase of their lives.

It would be awesome, if he weren't in love with Cas.

Well, here we go, he thinks as he opens the refrigerator and digs around for sandwich supplies. First day of the rest of your life. Time to move the fuck on. As he slams his meat and mayo and pickles down on the counter, he considers adding the bottle of whiskey he knows is hiding in the cabinet, but decides that he has enough self-respect to wait 'til five. Then he'll get fucking blackout drunk. Yep. Awesome.

y’all, do i even have to say anything about this? roommates to friends to a pathetic amount of pining without saying shit to disgustingly in love. also i think i cried, but i’ve been in tears so many times in the last week, who’s to say.

Plus One by ceeainthereforthat @ceeainthereforthat

Castiel Novak might have to attend three weddings in two months, but he’s not about to let his brother play matchmaker. His family’s Internet streaming company is too important to let a relationship steal his time, but he knows exactly what to do–hire someone to pretend to be his boyfriend.

Dean Winchester has worked five-star hospitality long enough to know how to fit in with Castiel’s crowd, and this job could score him the connections to make his acting career take off. It’s a business deal, no matter how they’re drawn to each other. When the lines of their contract start to blur into real feelings, can they withstand Castiel’s family and jealous fans working to split them up?

there are a lot of great fake dating stories out there, but this one takes the cake (or, at least, a slice of it). also, i cried a lot rereading this, both “ohhh god i love their love” tears and also “ohhhh god this hurts so bad” tears.

Should've Just Asked by Annie D (scaramouche)

Despite their age gap and differing social circles, Castiel has struck up a warm friendship with Mary Winchester, a wealthy widowed socialite. When Castiel needs a place to stay, Mary invites him into her house, where there’s loads of spare room. Castiel’s aware that they make an odd pair, but he doesn’t fully realize how things look to outsiders, especially to Mary’s eldest son. All Dean Winchester sees is that his mom has apparently hooked up with a hot young guy (who is totally Dean’s type) and that makes things… weird.

they’re both oblivious idiots in love, cas is grey-ace, dean’s a total dork, it’s all just very lovely (and frustrating in the way oblivious idiots can be!!!).

PS - annie d is writing marvel fic lately and i’m sure it’s fantastic if you’re into that kind of thing.

Support Your Local Gay Beekeeper by Powerfulweak

It’s not like Dean goes on Grindr very often, just when he’s bored and alone. The blue-eyed guy's profile reads "Beekeeper, 29, 5'10, Single, I watch the bees." Dean is intrigued. He has to send a message.

this is a series that starts with some great phone sex and then goes on to very, very awkward sex injuries. a goddamn cringefest that had me in complete horror imagining it. but it’s fun! they persevere! people so rarely write about Sex Going Wrong and i love @powerfulweak for taking the bullet for us on that one.

Take Me Home Tonight by Persephoneshadow @persephoneshadow

“Come on, we’re finding you someone to…engage with sexually or whatever,” Dean explains, chancing another swig of beer before going on. “Anyone in this bar, no limits, who would you would be your top choice to bang?” “Well, you, ideally.” Dean spits out some beer before collapsing in on himself, legitimately choking this time. “Excuse me?!” ---- Or the one where Cas wants to have sex and Dean is there to help.

your classic denialist “i’ll be your wingman” turning to “actually imagining someone else touching you makes me want to punch someone.” which is dumb, because cas actually wanted dean all along.

Words with Friends by betts

"Dean Winchester is as straight as an arrow. He’s a lady’s man of epic proportions: the king of the one night stand, the messiah of the friends with benefits paradigm, the emperor of perpetual bachelorhood.

Except, apparently, when it comes to his best friend, Castiel Novak."

***

Wherein a longstanding acquaintanceship leads to friendship, then best friendship, then sexting, then dirty talk, then mutual masturbation, then, inevitably, fucking.

look i think you’re always in good hands with @bettsfic. but this one has some good sexting and phone sex right at the start, which i’m totally into, and then it gets even better. cas is a lil bossy, by which i meant to say he’s the kind of bdsm geek who has equipment installed in his bedroom for sex purposes.

You're The Only Stranger I Need by lyndsie_l

When Castiel receives a text from a stranger, he finds himself engaging in conversations daily. He's drawn to the outgoing college student and longs to interact with the other man as often as he can. Slowly, he finds himself falling in love with the other and can't imagine ever meeting a more beautiful person.

The only problem?

He's never actually met this other man.

be still my heart! a long distance/texting/phone sex thing! i want to read it again right this second. cas is such a cool nerd, dean is a brat, it’s a good time all around.

if you enjoy these fics (and you should), please give the writer some love via kudos and/or comments. <3

ps - as always, if i didn’t tag the writer and you know their tumblr, please tag in the comments. i don’t think there’s a writer alive who wouldn’t be happy to be on a rec list. :)

#sharkrecs #sharklist

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margoshansons · 5 years

Text

The Killing Kind (5/?)

Part Five: 01. 02. 03. 04.

Summary: Hydro-Man and Mysterio hijack the school’s Venetian vacation.

Warning: action sequences

Notes: I’m so pleased with this chapter! Also, if it hasn’t been obvious already, this is a SLOW BURN (actually it’s more of a medium burn).

All (Y/N) could see was blue. If Mars was the Red Planet and Ireland was the Emerald Isle, then she supposed Venice was the Sapphire City. All she could do was stand in awe at the colorful skyline while the water taxi gave them the scenic tour of the canal.

“Ahhhh” MJ sniffed the air, dropping in line with (Y/N), “The murder capital of Italy, I’ve come home.”

Y/N let out an involuntary laugh, “Of course, I forgot you’re part of the Italian Mob, only enrolling in Midtown to track down the elusive man who owes you thousands of dollars.”

“Wrong,” MJ intervened, a suppressed smile on her face, “I’d have a way cooler origin story than that.”

The two girls shared a laugh, (Y/N)’s eyes finding themselves locked onto Peter’s. He was staring at the two of them, it was only when MJ turned her head back to see what (Y/N) was staring at, that Peter turned away from the pair of friends.

“Hey, um, is everything okay with Peter?” MJ asked, something other than concern lacing her voice.

She shrugged, “Yeah, I mean I don’t really know him that well.”

“You sat next to him on the plane for eight hours” MJ brought up, eyes shifting between the two of them.

(Y/N) sighed, ignoring the knot spinning itself in her stomach, “I was forced to, remember?” MJ nodded, a slight smile upon the recall of events. “Besides, I think he’s just awkward around girls” She continued, the knot growing bigger.

“Not around you, he’s not” MJ brought up, letting the statement hang in the air until they docked at their hotel. If you could actually call it that.

It was the definition of a sinking ship, a fact Flash Thompson was more than eager to point out.

(Y/N) barely heard the other chaperone discussing the Da Vinci museum tour, (wasn’t the big museum in Milan anyway?) cause her thoughts were disturbed by the same subject of her and MJ’s gossip earlier.

“Hey” Peter swallowed, gripping the strap of his backpack. “I wanted to say thanks for the plane ride, I had a lot of fun.”

(Y/N) chuckled at the innocent compliment, grateful that Italy seemed to have taken away his nervous stuttering whenever she was in the room. “No problem, It sucks not to sit next to the person you want to.”

“Oh no, I--”

“Peter” (Y/N) interjected, a smile on her face, “It’s okay, I know you like MJ. It’s pretty obvious actually.”

Peter seemed to relax at the comment, though his eyes were still wide. “It is?”

(Y/N) nodded, chuckling as she pushed a wavy piece of hair behind her ear. “I’m cool with it” Her stomach growled at that, knotting itself up again, “In fact, I tried to switch seats with you on the plane before everything kinda went south”

Peter’s face became red recalling the events of the plane ride. She couldn’t help but giggle at his embarrassment, catching her off guard. Since when did she giggle?

“You--You did?” Peter asked, gripping his bag tighter.

(Y/N) nodded, “yeah, I actually think it’s cute, your whole ‘plan’” Something inside her chest twisted at the words.

“I don't--I don’t have a plan to woo MJ” Peter defended, his expressive face telling otherwise.

(Y/N) chuckled, “You’re many things Peter, but a good liar is not one of them.”

She would know.

After dropping her stuff off in her and MJ’s shared room, (Y/N) didn’t see Peter for the rest of the day. She caught him staring at her and MJ every now and then, but he never approached, just stood at the side.

It wasn’t until she got sidetracked by the watches in a jewelry shop that she saw him again.

“Hey MJ, come take a look, maybe we can get--” (Y/N) stood up, no signs of her friend anywhere. In fact, she hadn't seen her since the cappuccino they had shared a few moments ago. She wandered down the maze of streets that made up Venice, catching herself on the edge of a dead end, almost plunging face first into the freezing canal.

She let out a withheld sigh, relaxing at the close call. It wasn't until she looked once again at the water, she saw something unusual.

The water was moving...against the current?

(Y/N) sped down the streets, winding up and down the alleys and bridges, following the unusual streams to the Grand Canal, where they began to gather.

Her jaw fell open at the figure forming in front of her, eyes widening as she caught a glimpse of the face in the water.

It was bigger than the entire city. And it was a threat.

Her mind immediately went to MJ and she bolted, pushing her way through the screaming citizens searching for her curly-haired friend. Instead, she saw a figure in blue leap over poles and onto the bridge crossing the Canal. She recognized the back of his head.

How did she know the back of this figure’s head?

Her hands became alight with energy, sending it in waves at the threat before her. They weren’t doing anything. In fact, they seemed to phase right through the creature. It wasn’t until she heard the boom overhead she put all the pieces together.

Green pierced the clear sky, and (Y/N) caught the hint of gold that reflected from his chest plate.

She rolled her eyes at the spectacle, the people finally excited to see a superhero enter the fray to save them from the monster in front of them.

Unaware it wasn’t real. Unaware that they were only watching drones project what they wanted to see.

This was why her Dad didn’t want her to go on the trip.

No loose ends for him to tie up.

She grits her teeth at the thought, gathering energy in her palms once more.

He’s going to regret that.

She used the energy to propel herself upward, flying toward the roof covering the bridge, cerulean tendrils flying from her fingers, latching onto one of her father’s precious drones, crumpling it before tossing it out of sync. The hologram flickered, and (Y/N) was ready to move onto the next one in the equation until the Hydro-Man turned its sights on her.

The wave crashed down on the poor girl, but she refused to yield to someone who taught her everything she knows.

She let out another burst of energy, catching another drone, ready to crumple it, until another wave came down, ruining her concentration. She was getting ready for a third launch when something sticky grasped her hand. Her eyes darted to her right, widening at the sight of the synthetic webbing.

“Grab on!” a vaguely familiar voice called, and she followed the order, jumping off the roof, trusting that the string of web wouldn’t snap. She swung to safety, the figure from earlier grasping her shoulders in urgency.

“Are you okay?!” The voice asked, hidden behind a Venetian jester’s mask. His hand brushed her sopping hair out of her eyes, (Y/N) still struggling to catch her breath.

The clocks began to turn in her head and her jaw almost dropped at the revelation. That voice, it was the same one that had told her not to worry, the same one that stuttered whenever she and MJ were in the room, the same voice that was filled with perpetual worry surrounding his own life.

“Peter?” She breathed.

Thank you so much for the feedback!

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker #peter parker x you #beck!reader #spiderman ffh

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doeeyeddarlingxo · 5 years

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Myriad Misadventures - Chapter 41

The Myriad Misadventures of a Midgardian Queen-In-Training - Chapter 41

AO3 | Previous | Next

Word Count: 1136

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Rating: T

Myriad Misadventures - Chapter 41

The five of you arrive back home to find Dad relaxing in the living room. both Mom and Carlie.

“Had a nice mall excursion?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice.” Dad tries to keep his tone light, his eyes held stiff on the newspaper in front of him. It doesn’t work. He’s been on edge since you returned, like he doesn't want to let you out of his sight for even a second. Which is a nice sentiment, but a bit annoying in practice. He seems older, too. More tired. With the money you’re sending home from being in the competition, your family has never been better off, but Dad, Mom, even Erik all seem perpetually tired and haggard. From worry, you suppose. You make a mental note to write them more often when you go back to the palace in two weeks.

That is, if you’re still on speaking terms in two weeks.

Don’t be ridiculous. They’re not going to stop talking to me just because you got off to a rocky start. At least, that’s what you hope. You still have to make an effort to smooth things over now, unless you want the next two weeks to pass like a kidney stone.

Might as well start with the person who’s the least mad at you (at least, as far as you know).

*********************************************

“Knock knock.”

“Come in.”

Carlie’s room has been repainted since you were last here, from dark green to hot pink. Part of the growing process, you suppose, but it takes you by surprise. You shake it off. “Can we talk?”

She nods, wordless. You take it as an invitation to sit besides her on the bed, where she’s lying down.

“I’m sorry that Mom and I haven’t been getting along very well,” you start.

“It’s okay.” You can tell by the repeated thwack of her little cleats against the headboard that it is decidedly not okay. But you don’t leap to defend yourself; instead, you wait until she speaks again. “I don’t think Mom is trying to be mean to you.”

“No, no, of course not! She’s just…” Worried? Stressed? Horrified? “I think it’s…” hard for her to see her teenage daughter falling for a semi-tyrannical, eons-old, otherworldly being? “I think it’s hard for her, is all.”

“She just misses you. So do Dad and Erik. You’ve been gone long time.” You hear the note of frustration in her voice. It stings a bit, as well-deserved as it may be.

“Did you miss me?”

“Yeah. A lot.” She gets quieter, her cheek smushed into the pink fluff of the pillow. It matches the rest of the room, which used to be nothing but soccer posters and forest green trappings. The soccer poster have made it through the redecorating, you note. These kinds of things tend to go in circles with Carlie, you notice’ no doubt when you come back to visit again in another two years she’ll be back in another tomboy phase, or have gone off in a new direction entirely.

In another two years? Where did that thought come from? You hope The Choosing will be over by then. Kinda. Since coming home, your feelings about...all of that have shifted on a second-to-second basis. You thought you would love being home—but now you can’t think of anything but how homesick you feel for the palace. You’d spent the last two years wishing you had more time with your family—but now that you’re actually here, you can’t spend ten minutes together without a fight, or a snarky comment, or even just a strong sense of awkwardness. Of disbelonging.

Carlie rolls over to face you, her eyes suddenly alight, interrupting your train of thought. “But it’s easier for me, I think, because I’m excited for you.”

“Excited?”

She rolls her eyes. “Dug. All the girls in my class are so jealous that I have a sister who’s an actual, real-life princess. Because that means I’m a princess, too.”

You smile, your heart breaking a bit as you take in your glitzy pink surroundings and realize that Carlie’s room makeover might be partly due to missing her “princess” big sister. “You don’t need me to be a princess, silly. You’re a princess already, all on your own.”

Another eye roll. Were you this sassy at age ten? You can’t remember. “I know. But they’re also jealous of you getting to be in the competition.”

“Jealous of me?”

“Because it’s romantic.” She says it very matter-of-factly, before casually lobbing the next question at you. “Have you guys kissed yet?”

“Carly!”

“What? Aren’t you supposed to be figuring out if you want to marry him?”

Does she really still believe that?

She takes in the shock on your face, and quickly adds, “I know Mom doesn’t think so. And Dad and Erik and stuff. I don’t know why. But I think that you wouldn’t still be there if you didn’t like each other at least a little.”

“I…” You fix your gaze on the closet door, unable to meet her eyes for a moment. “I don’t really have a good response for that.”

She shrugs. “That’s fine. You don’t have to say it for me to see it.”

“Okay, Little Miss Know-It-All.” You give her a nudge and a look. “When did you get so smart, huh?”

She looks down, away from you. “When you were away,” she mumbles, more to herself than to you.

Your heart sinks. “Hey.” You put a tentative hand on her shoulder, relieved when she doesn’t pull away. “I’m sorry I’ve been away so long. I won’t let that much time pass before seeing you again, okay?”

“Okay.” She sniffs, smiling up at you with teary eyes. “Promise?”

“Promise.” You extend a pinky, hooking it around hers. “For the record, nobody’s kissed anybody. He just sees me as a friend.”

“Mom says you have to be friends with someone before you can really fall in love with them…”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see.” Even We’ll see feels like a dangerous thing to say, to think. Before talking to Carlie, you hadn’t quite allowed yourself to entertain the policy of a We’ll see. It’s amazing how freeing it can feel to have a judgement-free conversation with a ten-year-old. Speaking of judgement… “Don’t tell Mom yet, okay?”

“Okay. Can I go have dinner now?”

“Of course.” You ruffle her hair as she hops off the bed; she swats your hand away, but you can see she’s smiling too. She leaves the door ajar on her way out, and your stomach drops when you see who is standing just behind it.

“Hi, Mom. Is dinner done?”

“On the table.” She waits for Carlie to make it down the hallway before turning back to face you, her arms folded across her chest. “We need to talk.”

#loki #loki x reader #loki/reader #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #doeeyeddarling #myriad misadventures #fish fork

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golbatgender · 7 years

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@thegreatjackal replied to your post

“By anti standards, any ship involving a vampire is necrophilia”

and it's likely pedophilia too

Vampires (and immortal/near-immortal characters) do raise some interesting (and almost entirely hypothetical) questions about establishing consent, but all those issues have to do with relative aging, which humans will never actually have to deal with in the real world unless we make contact with a sentient species with a vastly different lifespan/life stages cycle than ours, or if our own longevity technology advances to the point where some humans (or humanoid AIs with sexual capabilities and/or desires) end up living many times longer than their apparent age, but not others (because, you know, capitalism is like economic MRSA). If we ever do end up in such a situation, which will likely be a fairly sudden development if it does happen), it is probably best if we do already have several different fictional archetypes exploring these situations!

Eternal growth. The “vampire” (I’m just going to use this word as short for “immortal”) keeps developing normally after becoming immortal, and can be considered experientially and developmentally equivalent to a human of the same age, though at some point they stop (or dramatically slow) somatic aging. (In general. Otherwise you get the Struldbrugs.) This works just like any other human/mortal until the vampire outlives humans, or dramatically outlives apparent age. Two possible consent issues: Deception, where it might be considered dishonest (if mitigated by self-preservation, sometimes drastically) not to mention to one’s partner that one is actually several decades or centuries older than one appears; or Experience Gap, where the vampire’s long life (or species nature) essentially makes them into an ascended being that a mortal’s mind/experience can’t really compare to. I personally would say that as long as the mortal is an adult, such a relationship could work if the mortal is fully apprised of what’s going on, although it is higher risk. Adults can legally consent to risk. This is the basis of several entertainment and medical industries. Examples of ships with this type of vampire or immortal: The Doctor/Any human, Zeus/numerous mortal women, Henry/Abigail (Forever, 2014).

Subtype: Ancient child. An eternal-growth type vampire who is either permanently somatically “fixed” as a child, or whose somatic childhood has been dramatically extended while mostly or completely allowing adult faculties to develop (neoteny; might have fictional use in, for example, training a super-translator by extending the best language-learning period). An example of the first would be Claudia from Interview with the Vampire, and an example of the second would be the octospiders from Arthur C. Clarke’s Rama series (most of whom take puberty blockers in perpetuity, but still function as adults in their society). Any relationship with such a character would have to be evaluated based on context: whether the character is considered an adult or late adolescent in their society (as opposed to a child; i.e., whether such neoteny is common), whether their potential partner is from the same or a similarly neotenic culture or not, and, if the first two questions are “no,” whether the potential partner is attracted to them because they think they are a child or because they know the person and became attracted to them based on pre-established friendship or rivalry. (This one does, in fact, have some real-word implications currently, with regards to some trans people--as puberty blockers become more common--and to some kinds of disabilities.) If it’s a “ truly adult mind, child body, attraction is mostly based on interpersonal stuff,” you still might want to tag a fic as underage to be safe, but I’m pretty sure that’s at least almost in the “fine in real life” territory. IDK. I’m 99.99% likely never to be in that situation--I’m old enough that even if I were dating a trans person who’d been on puberty blockers, they’d almost certainly have switched to HRT before I ever met them, since the main use for puberty blockers is to delay onset of puberty until the age of majority when HRT is easier to get (and they don’t stop all growth, just puberty, anyway). It’s a fraught trope--and that’s why we should explore it in literature, because how else are we going to figure it out?

Eternal youth. The “vampire” remains mentally the same age as when they were turned, never maturing psychologically much beyond that (though experience may compensate to a degree). In fact, the “vampire” may even forget memories from before a certain amount of time (such as in the case of Ashildr|”Me,” Doctor Who Series 9), as part of this psychological growth limitation. Consent values in relationships depend on the age at turning; difficulties arise as the mortal partner ages past the immortal one. (For example, if such a vampire was turned at 15, and you were also 15, it wouldn’t be an issue, but then as you grew up, it would be, particularly if the vampire doesn’t legally, as opposed to physically, age. Less serious legally, but almost as much emotionally, if you got together at 30 and apparently-actually-30, and then you aged but your vampire partner stayed 30.) Examples not already given include Edward/Bella (before she’s turned as well), or human/android ships (such as Hari Seldon/Dors Venabili from the Foundation prequels).

Lifespan gap. Exactly what it sounds like, either due to species differences or technology (growth deceleration or acceleration), where either one character’s normal lifespan is much shorter (but with a similar distribution of life stages) than the other, or (often regardless of total lifespan) one character spends a much greater proportion of their life in a specific phase of development than the other. This is a very common sci-fi scenario; it doesn’t actually usually apply to vampires, except where vampires are actually a mortal, humanoid species with a much longer lifespan. Humans are actually pretty likely to be “causing the problem” in many of these scenarios, since we take such a large percentage of our average lifespan to grow up. (And, to complicate things, particularly with aliens who aren’t used to humans, we tend to develop secondary sexual characteristics while we’re still psychologically children. Considering how many problems that causes among humans who know what the fuck is going on, imagine how awkward it’s going to be with aliens who won’t.) Meanwhile, another sentient species might (hypothetically) take only five years to reach maturity and live for several hundred thereafter, or some similar ratio (such as Mass Effect’s Asari), or be born fully physically and psychologically mature (like tribbles, but sentient). Conversely, a sentient species might in equal probability have a lifespan of only a few years, but some of these years would be a fully adult stage (such as replicants, or Mass Effect’s Salarians). Or, particularly in dystopic settings, some members of one species may have vastly longer lifespans than other members of the same species (whether genetically or artificially), which may be proportional (as if, say, being born on February 29th actually did mean you would stay the same age for four years), or be the same in early life and diverge later (such as Homestuck’s Alternian Trolls). Basically, while the differences could have some emotional and logistic issues for long-term relationships, if both parties are capable of consent by their own species’ or sub-species’ metrics, it probably doesn’t deserve a major content warning for that alone. A short-term thing is certainly fine.

As a footnote, cryostasis or similar states aren’t generally considered aging. Possibly there’d be some issues with legal age (indeed, with being considered legally dead, in many such scenarios), but if such technologies were to become common or even extant, legal precedent for time spent is stasis not “counting” beyond what little aging might occur despite the tech would be established pretty quickly--if only so that no one could hop in a cryopod in a non-extradition country or secret location (because in the US, statutes of limitations get put “on hold” for any time outside the country, but if they can’t find the cryopod...) until a statute of limitations ran out.

This was not the thousand-plus words I meant to write tonight, I’ll tell you that. (I’d planned to work on a commission. I’ll still get to it.) But these are situations that come up a lot in fantasy and science fiction scenarios, and might come up someday in the real world if we ever encounter sentient aliens (or build fully sentient AI). And yes, it’s a controversial topic. That’s why we should explore the moral issues of sex with vampires and aliens with non-human aging stuff in fiction, so we have some idea of what to go on if it ever becomes an issue in real life. And that includes the “bad” stuff, and the “possibly-bad” stuff, because fiction is a simulation of a non-real event, where you can test what happens without anybody actually getting hurt. Which is at the very least a lot better than (should it ever be possible) testing it on real people (and real aliens/AIs) in real life!

(And as for the original hypothetical question the reply was in response to, attraction to vampires is not necrophilia. Particularly not modern vampires--Anne Rice and Stephanie Meyer have pretty much seen to that. But even if you prefer your vampires to be corpselike? Well, the reasons real necrophilia is bad is because corpses/their original owners can’t consent, and secondarily because it’s unhygienic (the main basis of general corpse taboos)--though like, I’m not going to aggressively stop someone from sticking raw ground beef up their everything, which is comparably unhygienic, so long as they’re aware of why it’s a bad idea and I don’t have to pay for or deal with the aftermath. So, in the hypothetical where vampires are real and can consent, go for it, just...research the risks first. Or have your characters do the same.)

#thegreatjackal #reply #text #orig post #long post

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relationshipadviser-blog · 5 years

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13 Strangely Liberating Things That Happen When Your Relationship Hits The 2 Year Mark

New Post has been published on https://relationshipqia.com/must-see/13-strangely-liberating-things-that-happen-when-your-relationship-hits-the-2-year-mark/

13 Strangely Liberating Things That Happen When Your Relationship Hits The 2 Year Mark

http://tcat.tc/1sGdY5P

13 Strangely Liberating Things That Happen When Your Relationship Hits The 2 Year Mark

Jamie Varon Updated October 6, 2018

Relationships are hard. The fact that you have stayed together longer than 2 years seems like an accomplishment on par with climbing Everest. (It’s not, but it FEELS LIKE IT.) Relationships are especially trying in the beginning when you’re still learning each other. But, once it gets past that two year mark, a few things change, namely you both stop being insecure crazy people who are in love with each other. YAY. That phase is over!

1. Fights change from “we’re breaking up!” to “ok, how can we fix this?” Sure, you might get into a blowout match every once in a while, but now you two have your fighting styles down. Fights are more like, “I’m just going to hit up Starbucks, so we can eventually chill out and have a normal human conversation. See you in exactly the amount of time I know you need to cool down. Love you bye.”

2. You don’t hold anything in now. Everything from bodily functions to why what they said hurt your feelings to not being interested in that sex thing: everything gets laid out. Nothing is held back. (It’s amazing.)

3. You’re not in a perpetual back and forth about how much they care about you. You got it. You know where you stand. You’re not losing your mind over commitment or the L word or anything like that. It’s all out in the open.

4. You are clear on what your future is together, if there is one. And, if you’re not clear, you just ask. This is what healthy adults do. They just ask when they’re confused. And, thankfully, you’re in a relationship where you can just say, “Hey, are we on the same path about this very important thing called our Future?”

5. Getting naked or having sex in daylight is no big thing. You’ve seen their parts. They’ve seen yours. This is not a thing that bothers either of you. It’s just a thing that happens.

6. You guys know almost everything there is to know about each other. You’ve heard that same story multiple times. Sure, you love that story, but oh my god, how many times can they tell that same story.

7. …But it makes it extra special when you can still be surprised by something new, no matter how small the tidbit is. When you find out something you didn’t know about your partner, it’s like striking gold at this point. You’re like, “Wait, you don’t like fennel!? I had no idea!!!!! This is the most interesting thing ever!!!!!!”

8. You really, really, really know each other now. The masks have come off. The real you is in love with the real them. This is what it feels like to have someone love you for you, for REAL. This relationship is REAL NOW.

9. You’re at the point where you can officially settle on in this relationship. It has passed through a bunch of awkward stages. You’re firmly inside the honeymoon stage. It’s all cuddles and kisses and sex on a semi regular basis. Bliss as fuck.

10. Telling the truth is amazing! No longer are you afraid to tell them their breath smells or they snore or they kind of need to take a shower. You just blurt it out without any care in the world. And, they do the same with you. What’s weird about it is that even though it seems like you’re both insulting each other, it feels like something intimate you don’t share with anyone but them. There’s a comfort and trust there that is untouchable by any other relationship.

11. You two know all your weird quirks. All that stuff you used to do when they weren’t around? Yeah, now you just do it whether they’re around or not. You knew they were going to stick around when they thought that weird shit you do sometimes was actually endearing.

12. You’re finally out of the ‘we are completely obsessed with each other’ stage. Thank god, because that was exhausting and confusing and you never knew where you guys stood and this is so much better now.

13. You are making this thing last. Two years is a big deal. Relationships are hard. You know better than anyone how hard a relationship can be. But, you made it work! You’ve done the impossible: stayed together despite modern dating making that kind of commitment nearly impossible. Go you two. You did it. Now, go have some celebratory sex. Why? Because you totally can.

Jamie Varon

Writer • Hit me up: Twitter & Facebook

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