#every other minority deserves the right to self determination but us

[hindahoney]

At this point I'm starting to think that anti-zionism is just a dogwhistle for antisemitism. When you've got people openly calling Israelis "settlers" and hoping for them to be killed, when you've got people saying that they deserve to die, what else am I expected to think here???

Always has been bestie

[twoelectrichearts]

Noah Schnapp is literally beyond evil. Like, spawn of satan level of evil. He only deserves to suffer for the rest of his existence. How dare he have empathy for innocent civilians in Israel and Palestine. First of all, there’s no such thing as innocent Israeli civilians. Second of all, you can't have empathy for both. Especially if he is a Zionist. All the Jewish people who identify as Zionists are evil. Israel has absolutely no right to exist and Jewish people have no right to exist in Israel. So many Jewish people who are Zionists claim that’s what Zionism means to them but they’re wrong. Zionism is pure evil. You can’t be Zionist and want peace and self determination for Palestinians. I’m not Jewish but I definitely know better than the Jewish Zionists who claim that. They’re all evil lying monsters. They want every Palestinian wiped off the face of the Earth. Hamas would never want such a thing. It’s not like they had a charter that said that about Jewish people. Even if they did, they supposedly recently changed it to Zionists instead so it’s all good now. Hamas is totally accepting of Jewish people now and would welcome them with open arms as long as they aren’t Zionist. Noah, if you’re a Zionist, don’t be anymore. You can change your evil ways. Hamas changed. Yeah, they may have killed civilians and taken hundreds hostage, they may have said October 7th was just the beginning and that it was going to happen over and over again, but they’re no longer antisemitic. They’re just anti Zionist so they’re good people now. You can change and be good too. You’re so young. There’s still hope for you. Stop lying and telling us how you want peace and self determination for Palestinians. We all know that’s not true. It can only be true if you aren’t Zionist.

You liking something like this makes absolutely no sense if you’re Zionist. I bet you don’t even agree with it and just liked it by accident or something. It’s crazy how I even managed to come across this months ago considering nobody talked about it or brought it to light. You liking that sketch of people in the LGBTQ+ community simping over Hamas got so much attention and caused so much outrage though. Funny how the internet works. Anyways, as a bisexual, I was so offended by that video. Hamas are well known LGBTQ+ allies. How could you like that video as someone who’s gay? It’s probably because you’re lying about being gay too. Shame on you.

Last thing I’m gonna say is fuck Israel and fuck Israelis. That country and all the people living there are evil. They’re all colonizers and occupiers. It needs to cease to exist and all the people currently living there need to go back to where they originally came from. All of them came from Europe, right? That’s what I’ve been hearing. They all need to return to Europe. Gosh, why’d they ever leave there in the first place? I know Jewish people say otherwise but they’re wrong. They’re either lying or in denial. They’re not indigenous to Israel. They’re indigenous to Europe. Us non Jewish people really need to educate them more about their own history, religion, ethnicity, etc. We need to teach them what antisemitism actually is. A lot of them don’t seem to understand what it is. We do that to every other minority group that we aren’t apart of, right?

[ah-ga-seven]

Till The End of Summer - Chapter 14 (The Finale)

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 12,3K

Idol Cameos: NCT Johnny, ITZY Ryujin, ATEEZ Wooyoung, Stray Kids Hyunjin, Enhyphen Sunghoon, Heesung and Jay.

Genre:  Fluff, SMUT, angst if you squint.

Warnings: explicit mature content, I put a bolded warning sign at the start and end of it so you can skip through if you want.

Month 1.

Yeonjun went back home to save the reputation of Choi Enterprises by dealing with Lita’s attempt to overthrow him and his mother.  

Apparently, she did a lot more than the things she was locked up for initially. 

Lita and her husband bribed members of the board, making promises they obviously couldn’t keep. “When we have the company, the world is yours” but those days never came. and the board members that were bribed were fired effective immediately.

Each and every one of them got disposed of, with their assets included like they were last weeks’ trash. And if that wasn’t enough, Lita’s unjustified psychosis stemmed from the fact that she used to sleep with Yeonjun’s father. Lita felt like she was entitled to the Choi’s fortunes because according to her; the only woman Daniel Choi ever loved, was her.  

The revelation had Yeonjun sick to his stomach as he sat next to his mother in court. Lita looked at him with pleading eyes, claiming to really love him as her own son before the judge announced her 15-year prison sentence for fraud, spying, embezzlement, and attempted murder.

Somehow Yeonjun felt nothing as he looked at her. He really didn’t. If anything, he was glad to close this chapter of his life for good, and look ahead of the road to recovering his soul.

You, on the other hand, were completely overwhelmed with your new surroundings. You threw yourself into your work to forget about your heartache and didn’t dare to talk to Yeonjun in case it’d open up your wounds again. It would cause for you to lose focus, and you simply couldn’t afford that distraction right now.

Month 2

The first month passed without any contact between the two of you, but that changed when you wished him a happy birthday. His heart thumped in his chest on his way to his 6th therapy session as he looked at your message. 

He was even more surprised to see that you sent him a cute card with a Polaroid picture of the two of you; all happy and smiley in the park.  

It was reassuring to him that you were still thinking of him, and that you hadn’t completely forgotten about him or moved on so easily, because lord knows he hadn’t.

When you asked him about Lita’s trial a few days after his birthday, you two started to slowly talk again from time to time. You’d check up on each other and made small talk, but it was nothing like it used to be.  

There was no depth, and the core of your conversations always had to do with how both of your studies were going, if you were taking care of yourselves or if you’ve had dinner already.  

You both figured it was for the better this way, otherwise your break up would have been for nothing if you didn’t use this time apart from each other to heal, especially since you promised to be better individually so you could be even better together.

If that was still what both of you wanted upon your return of course.

He missed you so much, and he was finding it incredibly hard not to check your socials at least once a day, especially when he realized how male-dominated your studies were at Brown.

Your Instagram feed and stories indicated that you were having the time of your life when you could. You were happy despite the crazy hours you spent in a lab with your research team. A team that quickly became your new group of friends at the University.  

There were 2 other guys and one other girl in your team. The girl’s name was Giselle, you seemed to be the closest to her out of all of them. One of the guys was named Chanhee who was quite obviously gay, therefore not a threat. But the second guy, Hwang Hyunjin… let's just say that Yeonjun wasn't a fan.

Month 3

Your almost daily texts and calls with your friends back home started to shift to communication on a weekly basis.  

It was hard to keep up with your friends back home while having to entertain a new friend group here, all while you spent hours upon hours in the lab, working on a possible treatment for neurological disorders.  

You knew that whatever you were getting yourself into with this exchange was going to be hard, but you didn’t imagine it to be this hard and frankly, you were feeling incredibly homesick by now.

You missed Soobin, the boys, Mia…Yeonjun. And one time when you came home at 10 PM after a long day that started at 8 AM; you broke down on the phone when Soobin called to check in on you.

He was so shocked at your tears that he was ready to jump on a plane, but you stopped him from doing so. Knowing that you needed to push through and confide in the friends you made, whom you’ve started to hang out with a lot more, especially with Hyunjin.  

He reminded you a lot of Soobin, the way he was gentle yet in for dumb shit matched well with your own personality, and hanging out with him felt liberating. He introduced you to his friends and spent time with you and your lab partner and roommate Giselle whenever he could, which made your time at Brown a lot more bearable than you had anticipated.

Yeonjun was slowly starting to enjoy life again. He caught up with his studies, kept going to therapy, had regular calls with his mother, and spent time with his friends whenever he could. He started to pick up his neglected hobby of dancing again, finding comfort in the art form with Wooyoung and his crew.

Month 4

Yeonjun’s mother sold Choi Enterprises. She was completely done with the company as it wasn’t hers to begin with. The stock prices had risen for the first time since Daniel’s death paired with the whole Lita ordeal, so she took the chance to get rid of her past with a simple transaction.

She consulted Yeonjun about selling the company and the house he grew up in, for which he agreed, glad that they could finally close that dark chapter of their lives while getting a fresh start with new surroundings.  

With all of this newly acquired money, she opened a new headquarters of her own luxury fashion brand, closer to Yeonjun; only an hour away to be exact.  

She was determined to be a better mother and get to know her son, and the only way to do so was by actually trying. He was happier now that the burden of having to take over Choi Enterprises one day fell off of his shoulders.  

For the first time in a long time, he held the reigns to his own future again and his mother assured him that she’d support whatever he wanted to do in life both mentally and financially.

From there on out things started to look up for them.  

They went on café dates every Sunday, and sometimes he’d visit her for an entire weekend where they would bond by cooking or shopping together. 

During one visit, Yeonjun helped her pick some pieces for Fashion week, which made her pleasantly surprised by Yeonjun’s out of the box and daring passion for fashion. She suggested he’d take a minor in fashion design next to his regular Business studies and after giving it a good thought, he did, enjoying it a little more than he thought he would.

Month 5

You were doing better too. The hard part of your research was over with, and you had a well-deserved break which you spent with Giselle, Chanhee, and Hyunjin. You decided on having a mini-vacation and go sightseeing, rent an Airbnb somewhere in the state, and just chill.

Everything was fine until the last night of your trip, where you got shitfaced drunk and ended up sleeping with Hyunjin.  

You were single, so there was no reason to feel guilty, especially since the last time you even talked to Yeonjun was over a month ago, yet you still did.  

Of course, you had to talk to Mia about it, who only told you to remember that when you’d return in a month; you’d probably never see Hyunjin again, and that was enough for you to start distancing yourself from him.

The guy obviously had feelings for you, and you felt bad for friend-zoning him after being intimate with him, but the fact of the matter was that you just didn’t feel the same way about him. None of it would matter in a few weeks anyway, because you’d be heading back home, to your friends...and to Yeonjun.

Month 6  

Brown had offered you to stay and finish your studies at their facilities but you kindly declined. The experience was great, but you couldn’t put yourself through one more year of this type of curriculum, and you desperately wanted to see your friends' faces again by going back to the place you’ve called home for the past three years.

To your new-found friends’ disappointment, you were getting ready to leave as the weeks passed, packing your things little by little and meeting up with all of the people you met one last time before parting ways for good.  

It felt bittersweet though. Not only did you learn a lot about neuroscience, but you learned a lot about yourself as well. You grew as a person, matured, and blossomed by being more independent. Not having Soobin or your other friends to fall back on really pushed you to become more self-dependent, which was one of the perks of being away from them for so long.

You respected yourself and put yourself first and promised that that’d be a piece of knowledge that you’d be taking back home too.

Now.

Yeonjun couldn’t believe half a year had passed already. But what he really couldn’t believe was that he’d be seeing you again tonight.  

He stood in your apartment with the guys and Mia, organizing your things and cleaning up the place for your surprise welcome home party. Being in there felt weird, almost foreign to be exact.

It’d been half a year since he stepped foot in here, and even though you were gone for so long, the place still smelled like you. If it wasn’t for the empty shelves, missing bedsheets, and plastic covers over your furniture; it’d almost seem like you never really left.

He opened your bedroom door to see Mia struggling to make your bed and chuckled lightly at the sight. He walked over to her, grabbing the other ends of the sheets to help her out.

Mia gave him a faint smile and stopped her movements for a second to look at Yeonjun. “Are you excited?” She asks with a big smile. Lord knows she was, her best friend was finally coming back but Yeonjun didn’t really know how to answer Mia’s question.

“More nervous than excited. We checked up on each other from time to time but it’s not like we really talked or anything.”

Mia pouted at Yeonjun’s insecure facial expression. One she hasn’t seen from him that often. Especially lately. Mia and Yeonjun have gotten a lot closer in the past six months, which was a nice change for the both of them.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. You’re not the same Yeonjun you were six months ago. And that’s a good thing. She’ll appreciate the change.”

“Gee, thanks.” Yeonjun snickers as he throws a pillow at Mia’s head. It hit her straight in the face, messing up her hair which made both of them erupt in loud laughter.

“Asshole,” Mia says straightening out her hair.

“What’s going on here?” Soobin asks with a big smile on his face as he enters your room.

Soobin hasn’t been able to wipe that damn grin off of his face all day. He was so excited for you to come back and honestly the mood with the boys and with Mia has been amazing lately.  

“Yeonjun is back to his old ways,” Mia argues as she tries to throw the pillow back at him, but Yeonjun swiftly caught it, giggling to himself as he fixes it before putting it back on your bed, where it belongs.

“Well, quit messing around and hurry the fuck up, I’m picking her up in an hour.” Soobin says clapping his hands together to try and give orders, but neither Yeonjun nor Mia were phased by Soobin’s attempt to assert dominance. Both of them rolled their eyes before getting back to the task of making your bed.  

It was adorable how stressed yet giddy Soobin was to see you again. Everything had to be perfect before you arrived so he could relax and make sure you’ll be able to relax after your flight too.  

He ran around your apartment like a stressed mother; making sure the boys weren’t messing around too much so that everything planned out smoothly before the guests arrived.

Soobin waited for you patiently…at the wrong exit.

You immediately recognized his tall form when you were skimming the crowd, wondering why he wasn’t there yet, but when you saw his back facing the wrong arrival hall; you knew enough.  

It’s so Soobin of him to face the wrong way. You smile to yourself as it gave you the perfect opportunity to scare him.

You chuckle as you walk towards him while pulling your suitcase with you. He was concentrated on the people exiting the gates, hoping to see you and growing more and more restless as you didn’t show up, but little did he know, you were right behind him.

“Who are we waiting for?” You ask in a serious tone as you stood beside him with your arms crossed while following his gaze onto the crowd.

Soobin’s head snapped into your direction so fast you swore you heard a bone crack.  

His eyes widened before he smacked his bunny-like lips in confusion, looking you up and down before a huge smile crept upon his face that you could only mimic.  

“YOU’RE HERE!” Soobin shouts in shock, relief, and joy at the same time while pulling you in for a tight hug. He inhaled your scent while twirling you around, and all you could do was giggle as he smothered you in his hold.

God, you missed him, and judging from the way he wasn’t letting go of you, you could tell he missed you too.

“Ugh, I missed you so much. How was your flight? And look at you! Did you change up your hair? You look good, happy, healthy. Ugh.”  

You couldn’t even respond to anything he was saying as he wrapped you into his arms again. Normally you’d fight him for being so clingy, but this time you let him have his way for a few seconds…until it got hard to breathe.

“Soobin, I can’t breathe.” You protest softly as you tap his chest to let go which made him laugh in response, holding you at an arms-length. “Sorry y/n. I just…we’re never separating for that long ever again,” he says with a serious yet playful look on his face.

“Agreed.” you beam up at him as you link arms, walking towards the exit.

“Did you have a good flight?” he asks as he pets your hair, not believing that you were standing next to him right now.  

“Mmh, there was some turbulence so I couldn’t really rest. I can’t wait till I’m home again so I can sleep,” you mumble before you let out a yawn as you drag your feet on the tiled floor of the airport.

Soobin gulped. He didn’t know how you’d feel about the hoard of people in your apartment right now, all ready to celebrate your return when all you really wanted was to get some rest after your long travels.  

He felt guilty for a second but also knew that you’d probably forget all about your tiredness when you’ll see all of your friends again.

“Uhm, the car isn’t that far. Give me that,” he says as he takes your suitcase from your hold.

“Everyone quiet down! They’re coming up right now!” Taehyun announces while he cut the music.

Everyone frantically found a spot to hide. Some giggled as it got dark, some held on to each other cause they couldn’t see shit and some were nervous wrecks like Yeonjun.

You weren’t suspecting anything as you dragged your feet to your apartment. Soobin was acting weirder and weirder; fumbling with his keys, dropping shit, and constantly checking his phone, but you were too dense and tired to notice.

You struggle with your lock and let out a yawn. Soobin stood closely behind you, taking a deep breath as the door swung open.

Before you could even close the door behind you or find the light switch, all of the lights turned on in an instant, followed by a loud ‘SURPISE’ yelled out by at least two dozen people who were occupying your living space.

You flinch, your eyes nearly popping out of your skull and stumble backward, just so your back could hit Soobin’s tall form.

He laughed hysterically clapping his hands together like a seal, followed by everyone in the room.

“Oh my god.” Is the only thing that you were able to get out as you covered your face at the overwhelming sensation.

You didn’t even realize you had this many friends? I mean you knew all of them of course, but you didn’t comprehend the fact that they were all here to welcome you back.

The music turned back on and Mia was the first one to launch herself into your arms which had you immediately defrosting in her hold.

‘BITCH!!!” she yelped. “I MISSED YOU SO MUCH.”  

She clung onto you and twirled you around making the adrenaline and confusion in your body shift to pure happiness at seeing their faces again.

You can’t believe they did this, and suddenly you don’t feel tired anymore.

“Y/N!” Beomgyu squealed your name as he hugged you, followed by Taehyun and Hueningkai who all patiently waited until it was their turn to hug you.

You were so caught up in shock and bombarded with love, that you didn't have time to scan the room for other familiar faces. Instead, you just let them come to you one by one as you stood glued to the floor, smiling, hugging and chatting away with all of the people that seemed to have missed you so dearly.  

Yeonjun stood in the corner of your living room, watching the whole ordeal. A smile crept onto his face at how happy and healthy you looked. It’s almost as if he saw you for the first time again. Making him realize that love at first sight really was a thing…even in this form.

He took a sip of his drink, still watching you carefully until someone nudged his shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you go say hi to your girl?” The taller and older guy leaned against the wall next to Yeonjun after nudging him, making him look up at him.

“Hyung, I don’t even know what to say to her. She’s so happy right now, I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Johnny furrowed his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side. “You don’t think she’ll be happy to see you?”

“I don’t know anything right now.” Yeonjun sighed, watching you join Hueningkai and Beomgyu for a selfie with a big smile on your face. “When is the last time you two spoke?” Johnny asked, taking another sip of his drink.  

“Like two months ago.”

“Damn…”

“I know.”  

and just as the picture was taken, you spotted him across the room.  

Your eyes locked, making Yeonjun freeze in place. “Shit,” he gulps, downing his drink in one go to calm his nerves which made Johnny laugh at his antics.

“Relaaaax. Did you see her eyes light up just now? I think she missed you too,” he assures him, throwing an arm around his shoulder for comfort.

This seems odd? Doesn’t it? Yeonjun and Johnny being all friendly with each other.

During Yeonjun’s never-ending therapy sessions, the school’s counselor wanted to connect Yeonjun with someone with a similar background. You should’ve seen both of their faces when they met during a group session, but after realizing they had such corresponding backgrounds, you know; the neglected rich kid kind, they haven’t stopped talking to each other and oddly became very close friends.

It was nice for Yeonjun to have an older brother figure in his life since he’s the oldest in his own friend group, and it was even nicer for Johnny to find out that Yeonjun wasn’t such a big dick after all. Oh, and the part of having someone who gets his struggle was great too, even in the form of Choi Yeonjun.  

You couldn’t believe your eyes. You didn’t expect him to be here for some reason and the last thing you expected was seeing him with Johnny’s arm around his shoulder in a non-threatening way.

Mia chuckled as she followed your gaze. “Yeah…so, they started hanging out a few months ago.”

“How even?”  

“I don’t know maybe they started to bond over being your rejects,” Taehyun says making Mia and Beomgyu cackle with him, but you couldn’t quite see the humor in it. You had only returned to your friends for 5 whole minutes and they were already being annoying.  

Soobin noticed your slight annoyance and chuckled, rubbing your back in comfort as he was the only one to notice how nervous you really were to talk to him again after all this time. “Go talk to him, he’s just as nervous. Trust me.” Soobin says into your ear so only you could hear, and you give him a small nod in response. Smiling at the encouragement you so desperately needed.

You’re a bad bitch. You got this.  

You look at him once more as he talked to Johnny.

For some reason, his whole aura changed from the last time you saw him. His features matured a bit, he lost weight and he completely embraced having a mullet. Ok…hot.  

He was breathtaking. Even after all this time of being apart, he made you feel the exact same way and all it took to remind you of that feeling was one look from him.  

He decided to man up and make his way through the crowd to greet you, but you beat him to it as your legs automatically walked over to where he was standing.

Johnny sensed the sudden electricity in the air as you approached and decided to go in for the hug first to give Yeonjun some time to collect himself. “Y/n!” Johnny coed as he enveloped you into a big bear hug. “It’s so good to see you again. How are you? How was your exchange?”  

You’re snapped out of your trance, but you still feel Yeonjun’s eyes on you as you’re trapped in Johnny’s embrace. You collect yourself as you let go of him, trying to avoid Yeonjun’s gaze for now but it was almost impossible because of how close he was.  

“I’m good, it was good. A lot of sleepless nights but it was totally worth it.” You give him the quickest answer possible; you weren’t quite sure where to start the conversation with Yeonjun but the longer the two of you ignored each other, the weirder the tension between you two was getting.

He took a deep breath, giving you a warm smile before averting his attention to Johnny. He not so subtly told him to leave with his eyes, which made Johnny suavely exit the conversation by announcing that he needed a refill.

“Hey…” you start.

Yeonjun’s eyes glistened as he looked at you with adoration. “Hey.”

You looked good. Your skin had a healthy glow, and your new haircut was working wonders for your features. He was entranced by your beauty for a second before realizing his stare might be creeping you out, though you didn’t even notice, cause you were staring at him too.  

You were completely caught up in your own perception of time. Everything seemed to slow down now that you were looking into others eyes again after all this time and just as you were about to open your mouth to speak, some kid you didn’t know accidentally bumped into you roughly.  

The sudden impact made you lose balance as you jolted forward, straight into Yeonjun’s arms. Luckily, he swiftly caught and stabilized you.

He looked at you in shock, making sure you were okay as he grabbed your shoulders before turning his attention to the random kid who somehow got an invite to be at your welcome home party, in your house, without you even knowing who he is.

He quickly apologized, but you feared for what was about to happen. The Yeonjun you left 6 months ago was a dick and a hothead, he’d make the kid regret running into you like that but to your surprise Yeonjun straightened out the freshman’s clothes and gave him a small side smile.  

“Be careful kid, we just got her back,” he says in neutral yet friendly tone.

That’s it? No threatening glare? No sarcasm?

He seemed to notice your dumbfounded facial expression and chuckled. “Anger management classes,” he explains with playfulness evident in his voice.

“You’re kidding?” you scoff in amusement.

“Nope. I’ve turned into a complete softie, just for you.”  

You teasingly shove his shoulder and laugh loudly. The sound made Yeonjun’s heart flutter as he watched your face contort into pure joy and cuteness. He felt the sudden urge to squish your cheeks together and litter your face with kisses but he withheld himself from doing so, and reciprocated your giggles with the sound of his own laugh as he raked his hand through his long locks.

This small moment of flirty teasing made the both of you realize just how much you had missed each other as you were quick to jump back in your old ways.

You both should’ve known that worrying about any awkwardness between you two was stupid. After all, you were friends before you even started dating; and luckily that dynamic returned quickly because he was just as big of a casual flirter as you were.

Suddenly it felt like you were starting all over again with him, it felt like the first time you tried to connect with him on that damn picnic that started the timeline of your relationship.

Somehow the universe granted you the opportunity to hit the reset button and do things right this time, and you couldn’t be happier now that you realize how stupid it was to worry about the inseverable connection you two seemed to have to each other.

Even after all these months and all those miles of distance, Yeonjun still felt like home.  

He gave you a shy smile, realizing you were staring at him with hearts in your eyes while you expectantly gazed into his dark orbs.

His eyes weren’t hollow anymore, for the first time in ages his happiness felt genuine and you couldn’t wait for him to tell you all about it.

“How about we…ditch your party for a bit and go take a walk,” Yeonjun suggests, giving you a hopeful yet mischievous look as he held out his hand for you.

You boldly lace your fingers through his and lead him out of your apartment without a second thought, ignoring stares from literally everyone.

Oh my god, history really was repeating itself. Your mind flashes back to the walk you took with him that night at Johnny’s party; you lead him out of Johnny’s kitchen the exact same way right after the fight you had with an overprotective Soobin about trying to date Yeonjun.

You got Yeonjun a little flustered, which is a first, but he was happy with your directness. He couldn’t wait to be alone with you in a more private setting and if that meant leaving your own party, then so be it.  

Fresh air hits your lungs as the chilly spring night welcomes you outside. Your apartment was way too crowded and way too hot which made you sigh contently as the cold wind created goosebumps on your skin.

Yeonjun looked at you and stopped in his tracks while diverting his gaze at your still intertwined fingers.

You look back at him, confused as to why he stopped walking, but before you could ask questions; he pulled you towards him, trapping you into his strong arms. One of his hands made its way to the nape of your neck to slowly pat your hair as he leaned his chin on the top of your head.

You just let it happen, wrapping your arms around his torso while burying your face in the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of soap mixed with his expensive Chanel Bleu cologne hit your nostrils and the butterflies in your tummy start to flutter again after being on rest for six months.

Whole. That’s how you feel in the moment.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” You mumble into the hug, not wanting to look up at him out of fear that he might not have felt the same, but by the way he was holding you right now, you should know better. The insecurity of not being good enough still had its ways of fucking with your mind, even though you had no reason to be.

Yeonjun opened his eyes at your confession, not being able to hide how happy he was to hear that his feelings were mutual. He hid his grin by burying his face into your hair again as he giggled before pulling back slightly to see your face. You were trying incredibly hard to hide the heat that had risen to your cheeks but it was to no avail as Yeonjun mumbled something about how cute you were right now.

He was so worried you didn’t feel the same. He was convinced you forgot all about him at Brown. Your Instagram stories were filled with the countless parties you went to, the new people you met accompanied with the fact that your posts were littered with suggestive comments from guys he could only assume you met over there.

Yeonjun’s biggest fear relating to your return was that you utilized those six months away from him to move on, but as selfish as it sounds; he was so incredibly glad that you hadn’t.  

“Look at me.” He tried to cup your face but you didn’t let him, giggling into his chest as you protested.

The two of you must look absolutely pathetic to bystanders right now. You were completely stuck in your own world, acting like high school kids who were brand new to love, but somehow that’s exactly what you were.  

He chuckled lowly, as you tightened the hold you had on his waist. “Ah, whyyy…Look at me, come on.”

You do as you’re told, and when you look up you are greeted by the most beautiful smile you’ve seen in your life, making your breath hitch in your throat at how boyish yet manly he looked just now.

“Ok, I’m looking. Now what?” You challenge as you take a hold of his wrists as he cupped your face.

He didn’t know if he’d move too fast if he kissed your lips right now, so he decided against it while giving you a sweet kiss on your forehead instead.

“I just wanted to see your pretty face up close again. Instagram doesn’t do you justice, angel.”

“Oh, shut up.” You giggle, rolling your eyes as you push yourself out of his hold. You hate to admit it, but the little pet name made your heart skip a beat. You pretend to run from him, but he snatched you back in no time by tugging at your elbow with laughs and giggles. You give in and link arms with him as you resumed your walk through your neighborhood and look up at him to check if he was really here with you right now.

This whole thing just felt too good to be true. Here you thought he’d moved on from your relationship, but the confirmation that he hadn’t was nice, to say the least.

He looked down as he felt your eyes on him and smiles at you before looking at the path ahead of him.

“What?” he asks with an amused tone, but you just shake your head in response.

“You seem different.”  

“How different?”

“Like you aren’t carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore type of different.”

He nodded understandingly and stopped in his tracks to look into your eyes again. His hands traveled down to yours, lacing your fingers together once more before he sighed, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear for you.

You gave him an expecting look, squeezing the hand that was still intertwined with yours to assure him of the fact that you’re listening, which earned you a small smile.

“It’s cause I’m not. While you were changing the lives of others with your research, I was changing my own. At first, I thought the whole therapy thing was a hoax. I didn’t understand why talking to some stranger would fix me, but it helped me come to terms with a lot. I learned about acceptance and moving forward. And I learned that in order to be able to love someone in a healthy manner, I’d have to love myself first. You know…on a deeper level than just my handsome face” he jokes trying to lift some weight off of his words.

You roll your eyes, but secretly love his arrogance, making a low chuckle escape from your lips before you return to seriousness again.

“I’m so proud of you.” you say, and you mean it. You’re amazed at how clear his mind seemed to be. It’d usually take Yeonjun a good minute to collect his thoughts before he could talk about how he felt with you, but right now it came out so naturally, it was almost odd.

He gave you a weak side smile, making eye contact once again. “I’m nowhere near the finish line though. I can’t promise you that I’ll never fuck up again because I’m learning as I go, but what I can promise you, is that my heart and my feelings for you are unchanged. I haven’t stopped thinking of you, not once. The thought of being with you again was my driving force and I need you to know that.”

He caressed your cheek while you let his words sink in and suddenly you feel tears prickle your eyes.  

You were at a loss for words, completely lovestruck by his incredibly sweet and wise confession.

You hold onto his wrist for leverage, your breathing turned shaky and uneven as a tear escaped your eyes.

Here you thought he had completely moved on from your relationship. But god, you were so wrong, and you couldn’t be any happier.

“I promised myself to never make you cry again,” he joked lightheartedly as he wiped another tear away from your cheek, making you sniff in response, wiping them away with your sleeve quickly.  “They’re happy tears.”  

He looked into your eyes again, searching for answers and maybe even permission. He wanted to take things slow; give you time to reflect and time to adjust to being back home, but he simply couldn’t help himself.

When you leaned into his touch, he knew you basically gave him an okay to proceed.

He inched his face dangerously close to yours, lightly brushing his plump lips against yours. His hesitation made you smile, so you pull him down to your level by the back of his neck as you initiated the kiss.

He froze for a second at your dominance but quickly relaxed in your touch soon after he realized that you seemed to want this just as much as he did.

Kissing him was like muscle memory. It felt natural and blissful and suddenly you find yourself wondering about how you were able to live without this feeling of pure euphoria for over six months.

His love was like a drug, and all it took was one kiss to break your sobriety.

He pulled back, quickly assessing his surroundings before he realized the two of you were basically making out in the middle of the street.

He pulled you into an alleyway and pushed you against the wall of a random apartment building, his hands holding on to each side of your face delicately yet roughly as he kissed you with so much fervor, it almost made you dizzy.  

“You really had me thinking I lost you forever,” he mumbles as his lips disconnected from yours.

You weren’t given the change to respond as his lips found their way to the soft spot in your neck. He still remembered every sensitive inch of your skin and used it against you all too willingly; wrapping his hands around your throat as he kissed and licked a pattern from your jaw to your neck.  

A breathy moan left your lips as he started to suck possessive marks onto your neck and you instinctively wrap your arms around his waist, letting him do as he pleases, too entranced by the delicious feeling. You jumped up and he caught you by hooking his arms under your thighs, stabilizing you against the wall as you kept making out.

You giggled at his eagerness, a little flustered at the fact that you were in public; even though it was nighttime while being in a neglected alley; it still felt wrong.

He smirked against your neck when he felt you hesitate, and placed a soft yet wet kiss on your lips before letting go of you. He made sure you landed back on the ground safely, straightening out your clothes for you. “Maybe we should head back,” he says with a dark gaze, acting as if he didn’t just litter your neck with marks and bruises. He licked his pouty lips in amusement at the sight of what he had just done to you, knowing all too well that people would be able to see what happened while the two of you were gone.

You playfully shoved him aside, completely oblivious to how bad it really was but when you stepped into the elevator and saw your own reflection you gasped and shot Yeonjun a look of pure panic and distress. “YEONJUN!” you gasp loudly. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I’m sorry I just…couldn’t help myself.” he licked his lips again, cockiness emitting from his entire being. He inched closer to you to give you an innocent kiss on the top of your head and pulled the hair tie out of your hair, making your hair fall past your shoulders to cover the hickeys.

“This’ll do.”

“Oh my god, I hate you.”

He scoffed, casually smacking your ass in response.  

On the remaining way back to your apartment you were constantly fixing your clothes and hair, trying to let it nonchalantly fall to the front but you knew it looked rather ridiculous.

You had hoped your friends were too intoxicated to notice but when you stepped foot in your apartment with Yeonjun closely trailing behind you, all eyes were on you again.

How long were you two gone for? 10, maybe 20 minutes?

“Hyung.” Taehyun grabbed Yeonjun by his collar, turning him around which made Yeonjun frown at the younger one.

“For fucks sake.” Taehyun sighs dramatically, wiping something pink from the corner of Yeonjun’s mouth with his index finger.  

…it was your fucking lipgloss.

Yeonjun’s ears turned a bright red as he started to chuckle nervously. “Now I lost the fucking bet with Hueningkai. I thought it’d take at least a week before you two would start simping over each other again, it hasn’t even been an hour….AND OUTSIDE?” Taehyun sucks his teeth as a sign of disapproval, looking you up and down before his eyes lingered on your neck. “Animals. That’s it. That’s the description.”

“Pay up, loser. I told you.” Hueningkai cackles as he throws his arms around both Taehyun and Yeonjun’s shoulders.

“Y’all made a bet? An actual bet on our relationship?” you ask in pure disbelief. It was so like them to turn your emotional turmoil into their own amusement, but you couldn’t really be mad at them.

Your friends know the two of you better than anyone and probably saw this coming way before you did.

“Venmo me later.” Taehyun mumbles to Hueningkai in defeat while walking off, and you can’t help but chuckle at the irony of it all.  

All of these months left in pure insecurity about your relationship with Yeonjun. Nights of pondering about your future, worrying if he had moved on or not. It was all for nothing

Yeonjun and you move like magnets, and no course of time could really drive you apart because when you’re reunited, you will always find your way back to each other. Always.

He looked at you a little dreamily, it still wasn’t sinking in that you were back. For good. And all his.

He snaked his arm around your waist as he stood behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as you told your friends all about your adventures.

He was clingy, you were clingy and neither of you was hiding it for anyone. You’ve had your fair share of secrets with Yeonjun and you were more than glad that those times were over with.

At around 4 AM most people left, and you were left alone with the boys, Ryujin and Mia.

You were on the couch, perfectly comfortable on Yeonjun’s lap as you leaned into his chest. One hand was rubbing your back in up and down motions while the other had found its way under your shirt and onto your waist. His cold fingertips grazed over your bare skin and suddenly it was way too hard to stay awake.

The chatter of your friends became background noise as your eyelids grew heavy. But you were shortly awakened out of your slumber as you felt Yeonjuns lips on your temple.  

“You must be so tired after that flight and this whole circus,” he whispered with an empathetic pout, yet all you could do was nod as a response.

He chuckled at your cuteness and fixed a piece of your hair, kissing your forehead again before you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“It’s funny how nothing has changed, yet everything is different,” Beomgyu says as he stares at you and Yeonjun with a loving smile.

Beomgyu might be a little shit with a smart mouth, but he cares for his friends. Seeing the two of you be so content in each other's presence made love emit from his pupils. Even though Yeonjun had been doing so much better the best couple of months, nothing compares to the pure happiness and giddiness that Gyu was seeing from him now, and that was all because you were together again.

Beomgyu wasn’t the only one to notice, because it was literally all of them, and especially Soobin.

Soobin who literally rebelled against any type of relationship between you and Yeonjun was smiling at the sight of you in his arms fondly. His two best friends finally found solace in each other after all the shit that both of you had been through together, and it made him sentimental.

A year had passed since the two of you started dating unofficially, though this was the first time in that whole year that Soobin was completely okay with it.

You were long gone and off into dreamland by now as Yeonjun looked at you with a small smile on his lips, but when he looked up to check why everyone had stopped talking, he was met with six pairs of twinkling eyes on him.

His pupils darted back and forth between them in genuine confusion. “Why? What’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Soobin sighed contently. “For once, nothing is wrong.” he says as he leans forward to hug Mia from behind who was sitting between his legs on the floor.

Taehyun chuckled at Soobin’s dramatic statement and Hueningkai hummed in agreement.  

“Not to get all simpy or anything, but with her being back it feels like our little dysfunctional family is whole again.” Beomgyu mumbles as he let his head drop onto Ryujin’s shoulder.

“Let’s try to be less dysfunctional,” Hueningkai says with determination.  

“We can be less dysfunctional if you can clean up after yourselves and fold your own damn laundry so I don’t have to start a fight with you every 5 seconds,” Taehyun argues as he throws a pillow at Hueningkai's face. Making him laugh as he got in in the face with full force.

“Why can’t we just…have one peaceful moment…just one.” Soobin says rubbing his forehead in agony.

Yeonjun chuckled at the banter of his little brothers and looked back at you. “I don’t know guys, maybe that’s our charm,” he says leaving all of them in pure confusion as they looked at him for clarification.

“What do you mean by that.” Mia questions as she raises a brow at him.

“We’ll literally walk through fire to be there for each other, right? We go through things individually but will never fail to be there for each other in times of need, and I think we need to embrace our worst mistakes and arguments so we can grow from them. After all we’ve been through, I know we’ll be together forever. So, I say cheers to being dysfunctional,” He says with a proud smile, picking up his drink from the side table to raise it up in the air for a collective moment of cheers.

Dumbfounded by Yeonjun’s odd display of maturity and wise words, they all comply, raising their glasses in the air followed by a loud cheer to being “dysfunctional.”

The sudden loudness of their voices woke you up, completely out of it and sleep drunk; you lift your head from Yeonjun’s chest, squinting your eyes at your friends as you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Did I miss anything?” you say, your voice laced with sleep and confusion.

They all burst out into laughter at your current state paired with your obliviousness and messy bed hair.

“Nah, just six months of incompleteness,”  Yeonjun says as he pecks your lips.

Mia stayed over that night and helped you unpack and clean your whole apartment the next day, which you were super grateful for but...you’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish Yeonjun would’ve stayed the night.

The fact of the matter is that you haven’t had time for a serious talk with him yet, because you know, tongue punching each other was of higher priority than hashing things out with actual words. Which meant you hadn’t really talked about your relationship status or how things will be moving forward.

“The last game of the season is tonight. Are you going?” Mia asked as she plops down on your couch with you.

“The last one? Already?”

“Yeah we’re gonna go celebrate after.”

“Even if they lose?”

“Girl, you know they don’t lose.”  

You roll your eyes and laugh at Mia’s overconfidence in her boyfriends’ team. You were about to give her a definite answer before your phone started buzzing.

[Yeonjun, 12.44 PM]: Hi baby.

[Yeonjun, 12.45 PM]: Is it ok if I come over? I’ll bring us coffees from that café you love so much. 😌

[Y/N, 12.45 PM]: Yesss please 🥺

You giddily smile at your phone, wanting to squeal with excitement but you hold it in and Mia seems to notice. “Oh god, is it him?”

“Yeah, so.” you glare at her with playful intent “Let me be happy. He’s changed so drastically; I almost couldn’t believe that last night’s Yeonjun was the Yeonjun I left six months ago.”

“Yeah, he’s been working super hard to change and the whole thing with his mom helped too.”

“His mom? What do you mean?” You ask in genuine confusion, Mia bit her lip as she furiously shook her head. “Listen, I’m never, ever going to meddle in your relationship ever again. When he gets here, I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement until your attention is averted to your phone again as it buzzes in your lap once more.

[Hyunjin, 12.46 PM]: Hey sweetheart, did you have a good flight?  

Oh….

Your eyes shoot to Mia’s in panic and she frowns, taking your phone out of your hold to read the message.

“Oh my god…is this your little slip-up?” she asks with disgust evident on her features.

“What do you mean slip up? I am a single woman,” you argue, but Mia wasn’t having it.

“AM?”

“WAS? GIRL, I DON’T KNOW. It was a fling, nothing more.”

“Flings don’t call you sweetheart and ask you how your flight was.” Mia says squinting her eyes at you.

“Mia…”

She sighed, visibly irritated with how naïve you were being, but you couldn’t have known that you’d fall back into Yeonjun’s arms that fast, and it’s not like you ever dated Hyunjin. He was just a friend…who you’ve slept with once.  

“Listen, girl. I love you...but after everything Yeonjun has put himself through to be a better man for you, you better ghost this motherfucker right now or else.”

“Jeez, I will. It’s not like I like the guy. And since when are you team Yeonjun?”

She relaxed at your statement, slouching back into the couch. “A lot has changed y/n. He was a good friend to me when you weren’t here, that’s all.”

You nod understandingly, realizing that Yeonjun and yourself have a lot to talk about; maybe even more than you had hoped for now that Hyunjin reminded you of his existence with a mere text message.

Mia left soon after, wanting to give Yeonjun and yourself some privacy for when he got here, which wasn’t long after she left.

You opened the door for him, and he smiled at you. He was wearing a black beanie, an oversized black t-shirt, and those damned gray sweatpants of his that you love so much. Your heart did a thing at the sight and he quickly kissed your cheek before he rushed his way into your living room, trying to find a place to set down the coffee cups that were burning his fingertips at the touch.

“Careful.” You mumble as you watch him struggle. When he put the coffees down on your salon table, he quickly made his way to you again to properly kiss you this time.

He cupped your face, pulling you into him as he started to steal chaste kisses from your lips. You giggled into the kisses as you tried to untangle yourself from him, slapping his chest playfully to shoo him away.

He let go with a smile, taking your hand to lead you to your couch. You could tell by his whole body language and the way he skipped through your apartment that he was happier than ever.

You hoped you wouldn’t ruin that happiness by telling him about Hyunjin, but it shouldn’t matter because he didn’t matter. You only wanted to tell him just so you weren’t keeping any secrets anymore; cause god knows how that went the last time.  

“How’d you sleep?” he asks you as he hands you your coffee. You happily take it from him and keep your eyes on him as you take a sip. “Fine, it was weird being in my own bed again, I missed it though.”

“Yeah? Anything else you missed?” his gaze was piercing into you as he took a sip of his Americano, fully aware that he was fishing for an ego boost.

“Theres this guy I kinda missed, I guess his name is Yeonjun.” You shrug as you take another sip; your flirty playfulness is one of the things that he loved about you, it kept things spicy.

“Oh him? He wanted me to tell you that he kinda missed you too,” he says with an amused glimmer in his eyes.

You chuckle. “Good.”

Suddenly the two of you fell quiet, but it wasn’t an awkward quietness; it was more of a realization that your endless flirting had to turn into somewhat of a serious conversation.

“Yeonjun…”

“Hmm?” his eyes softened at the way you called his name, he set his coffee aside turning to you completely to show you that he was listening attentively.

You sigh, not knowing what else to say other than the following. “I love you and I want to be with you.”

His eyes grow in size, a little shook by your directness but he composed himself as he fixed his posture quickly. “Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?”

“I mean it, but I need to be honest with you too,”

“About what?”

“While I was at Brown, I kind of…flirted off and on with one of my lab partners and well…I slept with him…once. I swear it was only once and I-” he cut you off by raising his hand so you’d stop your nervous rambling and sighed. He knew exactly who you were talking about, because he had seen that motherfucker all over Instagram and had honestly seen this confession coming from miles away. 

He was glad you told him though, cause he'd feel worse if you tried to hide it from him.

Though you didn’t post about him, Hyunjin did post about you, and basically tagged you in all of his Insta stories or group pictures. Yeonjun shamelessly cyberstalked the guy. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments, but he had to just to stay sane.  

“Baby, we were broken up. You don’t have to justify what you did or didn’t do at that time. It’s not like I expected you to turn into a nun.”  

You raise your brows in surprise at his mature response. “You’re not mad?”

“No. As long as it’s over with.”

“It is, I promise.”  

“Good,” he sucked his teeth as he watched you. “Also, it’s not like anyone can fuck you as well as I can,” he states with a devious smirk as he pulled you close, making you gulp in response to his choice of words.

He chuckles at how easily intimidated you were by him and takes the opportunity to tease you.  

“Did he?”  

“N-no.” you stutter, innocently staring up at him. “He didn’t”

“Good girl.” He says, biting his lip while letting his thumb ghost over your lower lip.

His choice of words made your stomach turn but you knew better than to let lust get the best of you once again.

“Yeonjun…” you breathe his name like a warning, trying to avert the tension. “We…we need to talk.”

“We can talk.” He shrugs, pulling your legs towards him aggressively so you’d slide down. Your back was now on the couch as he parted your legs, settling himself in between them before hovering over you to kiss over the bruises he left last night. “After I give you a little reminder.” He smiles against your skin, pulling your shirt over your bra so he could kiss a trail down to your belly button.

“God I missed you,” he says digging his nails into your waist. "So fucking much."

(Warning: heavy smut ahead!)

Your mind goes into overdrive as he unties the tie to your sweatpants, and as he does so you stare at the outline that had formed in his own.

He didn’t waste any time, pulling down the waistband of your joggers with one swift motion while you helped him by lifting your hips off the couch.

He discarded of your clothes faster than your mind could comprehend but then you noticed that he was fully clothed, when the only thing you were wearing by now were your panties.

You pouted, pulling at his waistband but he grabbed your wrist, pinning your hands above your head so he could look at you, beautiful, bare, and all his.  

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” His lips found their way to the sensitive nub of your breast as he eagerly licked and sucked on it while his fingers found their way onto your still clothed heat.

He rubbed his middle and index finger over your clit, making you moan at the sudden stimulation.

He pulled away, making his way down to your core as he littered your inner thigh with more and more hickeys.

You were eagerly moving your hips by now, trying to get him to kiss you where you wanted him most, but he was taking his sweet time and you were losing your patience.

“Y-Yeonjun…” you moan his name. He finally rewards you by pulling your panties aside. Licking his lips at your glistening arousal, ready to feast on you as if it was the last meal he’d ever have.

“Fuck.” He says with admiration to no one in particular, placing a soft kiss on your pussy before he started to slowly kitten-lick your sensitive nub. He lowly hummed in approval at the taste of you and fastened his pace slowly.

You gasped, arching your back to give him better access as he started to eat you out like you’ve never experienced in your life.

His skill was baffling, he had your brain melting and legs shaking while he struggled to keep you still.

“Ah…” you arch your back once more, trying to get away from the overstimulation but he held you down with his strong arms.

“Who are you running from baby, stay still.” He ordered with a low voice before getting back to business, and with ten more seconds, he had you cumming in his mouth as the vibration of his low hums drove you over the edge. You cover your own mouth to muffle your loud cries, but he pulled your hands away from your face, wanting to hear you fall apart for him.

“That’s it baby.” he mused in approval, finishing you off with one last lick before he came back up to assess your fucked out state. “So fucking good for me.”  

Your chest was heaving up and down rapidly as you were trying to catch your breath. Once again you lost to the charms of Choi Yeonjun, but he was nowhere near done with you.

He quickly got rid of his own clothes and pumped himself a few times while looking straight into your eyes.

This man is a god, and he knew it.

His mischief returned when he realized you were watching him. “I think I got you wet enough, right baby?”

You almost forgot about his grit, your mouth salivating at the sight. Any slick you could build with him was a gift, because the last thing you wanted was for him to start a fire down there, cause that’s just how big he was.

You sit up which surprised him, but when you spit in your hand and pumped him a few times to slick him up some more he chuckled lowly as he realized what you were doing. He moaned in the form of a sharp exhale as your pace fastened, but he didn’t let you take control just yet.

“Scared?” he teased, keeping his eyes on you as you twisted your wrist a little more.

“No.” you huff.

“Then turn around.”  

You comply without a thought. You were both sitting up on your knees while your back leaned against his chest. You threw your head back and he kissed your forehead sweetly. guiding himself into you while his other hand held onto your waist to stabilize you against him.

You curse at the stretch, digging your nails into his thighs for leverage as he fills you up.

You both moan as your walls clenched around him. His arms snaked around you from behind as he took a hold of your neck, pinching down on the veins on each side of your throat as he slammed his hips into you continuously with long and deep strokes.

The choking sensation made everything so much more intense, especially when the fingers of his other hand started to rub circles on your still abused clit.

Your eyes rolled back as your vision got blurry, tears prickling your eyes at how good you were being wrecked right now.

He let go of your neck, putting his hand on the small of your back to push you down on the couch so your ass was up, and your face was down.

He started to pound into you mercilessly, his rhythm and pace perfectly alternating as he grabbed a fistful of your hair. “You’re mine,” he grunted as he felt himself getting closer and closer by the physical stimulation of your tightness and the mental stimulation of your moans and mewls.

It didn’t take long before you both reached your highs as he was prone boning you into heaven.

Your orgasm washes over you, and right after you came, he reached his own high.  

He pulled out right before he busted, releasing himself onto your back with a loud growl.  

Your eyes flutter closed; way too fucked out to function as you catch your breath. You feel his weight move off of you to grab one of the napkins on your side table that came with the coffees, and wiped his cum off of you with a cocky smile on his face.

You built up the energy to look back at him, and when your eyes meet all you can do is giggle with him at how ridiculous you two are.

“So…I guess now we can talk,” he says with a smirk.

- end of smut -

Once you fully recovered from having your back blown out…quite literally. You came out of your bedroom after a quick change of clothes.

You walk into your living room while you pull a clean shirt over your head.

 Yeonjun was still on your couch, watching you with a big boyish smile on his face as his gaze followed you.

“All good?” he asks, opening his arms for you. You nod in response, excitedly making your way into his arms. He moved you on top of him so you were on his lap and kissed your cheek sweetly.

“Where do we even start.” You think out loud as you start playing with Yeonjun’s hair. He threw his head back in solace, letting you massage his scalp softly.

You chuckle at his reaction, stopping your actions which made him lift his head up immediately, giving you a kittenish angry face. “Why’d you stop.”

“Because it’s been an hour since you got here and all we do is dance around the subject,” you say as you move off of him. You turn sideways, leaning against the armrest of your couch while you drape your legs over his lap and sigh.

After deciding that Yeonjun would go first, he told you everything. From the progress he has made with his therapist to the baffling information of his mother selling Choi Enterprises and moving closer to the Uni for him. He told you about their relationship and his interest in the fashion industry. He’s been spending time with his friends in the dance studio again after years of neglecting his hobby and his grades are improving drastically compared to last year too.

He’s been doing well both mentally and socially. Even though he still has his bad days, he’s a lot happier than he was before. You listened attentively asking questions and making sure you understood every detail to your best ability.

When it was your turn to start talking, you realize just how sadistic your exchange was now that you’re explaining the details out loud. You told him about the crazy schedules, spending days from 8 am to 10 pm in the lab, neglecting your health just to forget about your heartache. You were being brutally honest, and you saw Yeonjun’s jaw clench at the revelation.  

If he knew you were having such a hard time, he would’ve contacted you more, but you explained to him how the experience made you stronger, harder and less of a cry baby.  

You spoke about your new gained independence and soon realized that, where Yeonjun needed emotional cradling, you needed to be hit with the real world without the safety net that your friends and parents always provided for you.

The two of you had been talking for over two hours, and finally came to the inevitable question.

“So…what does that make us.” You sigh as you played with his fingers.  

“Really, the ‘what are we’ question?” he chuckled, watching you play with the ring on his index finger.

“Well. Do you have an answer?” you mumble, letting go of his hand.

“I’m yours,” he says, putting his hand on your thigh while his other hand tugged on your chin to make you look up at him.

Your eyes grew in size, swallowing harshly when his fingers moved from your chin to caress your cheek. “And I don’t want to take things slow anymore, I love you too much to relive the dating phase."

“Me too,” you agree with determination. He smirked contently, leaning into you to feverishly kiss you on the lips.

“You know what that was?” He asks as he pulls away with his face still in close proximity.

“What?” you question with a giggle.

“Our first kiss as boyfriend and girlfriend.”  

You slap his chest, bursting into laughter at his cheesiness. The sound of your laughs and giggles filled the room as he started to kiss you all over your face and neck, leaving you breathless and ticklish at his touch

“I love you, Choi Yeonjun, but I think you have an important basketball game to get to.”

Of course they won.  

Yeonjun made the winning point which meant he had something to brag about all night.

You were at a local diner with all of the boys, their teammates, and respective girlfriends or boyfriends. Drinking, talking, and overall having a good time.

When Mia, Ryujin, Soobin, Taehyun, Beomgyu and Hueningkai heard the news about your new relationship status, they basically congratulated you as if you announced that you were getting married.  

The whole thing was just way too funny, and Yeonjun dragged you around all night to introduce you to everyone.  

The freshman on the team were so confused when Yeonjun introduced you as his girlfriend because they had never heard of or seen you before.  

“Hyung, Imma be honest with you, I kinda thought you were gay.” Sunghoon admits as he apologetically scratched the back of his head.

“…S-same” Heesung states, looking at you both with apologetic eyes as well.

Yeonjun looked at them a little funny as he burst into laughter, pulling you closer to him. “Why?”  

“Because well, we haven’t seen you with a girl all year, and with the way you look, I don’t know. 1+1 was gay I guess.” Jay, another freshman explained their point of view a little further, which had you cackling at the situation.

“Oh my god, so you little shits were the ones spreading rumors about me and Wooyoung!?”  

“N-no! NO!” The kids protested, but Yeonjun was already playfully grabbing them by their collars to scold them.

You laughed at the whole ordeal, love emitting from your eyes as you watched Yeonjun be in his popular guy element again.

You zoned out for a bit, absentmindedly listening to how Beomgyu and Hueningkai were telling a story about that one time they took Yeonjun’s car for a joyride in the middle of the night without his permission.  

Yeonjun noticed your mental absence, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his chest, softly kissing your temple.

“What’s wrong?”  

You shake your head, sentiment getting the better of you. This is the most complete you’ve felt in a while.

You kissed him with fervor, your hands lacing through his dark locks before you pulled away to place a small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“I’m just really happy right now,” you say as you smile at each other lovingly.

1 year later.

Graduation was around the corner.

It was insane how fast time flew. You celebrated your first-year anniversary with Yeonjun the night before and were now laying in his bed the next morning, slowly waking up just to feel the soreness of what he did to you last night.

You groaned in agony at the bright light, even after all this time; you still weren’t a morning person.

You noticed how Yeonjun was missing from the bed, so you got up to look for him. Putting on his large shirt to cover yourself as you made your way to the boys’ living room.

Soobin was on the couch with Taehyun and Hueningkai looking you up and down with disapproval.

“Jesus. Did you get hit by a truck in there?” Taehyun asks as he clicked his tongue.

“Shut up smart-ass. Where’s Yeonjun?”  

Taehyun chuckled, being completely used to your grumpiness in the morning by now. If Yeonjun wasn’t staying at your place, you were staying at theirs; so they were more accustomed to having you around like this.  

“He said he had to run a quick errand; he’ll be back soon,” Soobin replies with light amusement in his eyes at how roughed up you looked.

“Hey, next time…be a little more quiet.” Beomgyu tells you as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room.  

“My room is next to Yeonjun’s you know.”

“Oh shut up hyung, I hear you and Ryujin almost every night,” Hueningkai says rolling his eyes, which made you crack your first smile of the day.

“Oh nooo, not my pure baby Hueningie” Soobin pouted as he trapped Kai in between his legs for a hug.

“Hyung, you’re gonna have to let go soon. Literally. When you guys graduate you don’t get to live here and baby me anymore.” Hueningkai protests as he tries to push Soobin off of him.

Soobin pouted, making you immediately feel bad for him. 

When Yeonjun and Soobin would move out, Jay and Heesung would move in, which meant that Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai had to hold down the fort as seniors for one more year until they graduated, and the thought alone made Soobin feel uneasy.

Soobin and Mia were officially moving in together after graduation. They had planned their whole futures together and both had job offers in the city from their internships.

“I’ll still come over…every…weekend. You know, just to make sure.”

You drift off into thought, realizing how Yeonjun and yourself have been living your lives in the moment without concrete plans for the future together.

Since your apartment was off-campus you still got to live there after graduation. You had gotten an amazing job offer because of your research at Brown, which had major corporations battle it out with outrageous contracts, salaries, and promises to your favor so your options were most definitely open.

Your future looked bright, as did Yeonjun’s who’d be working as a Creative Director for his mothers’ luxury brand...but how did you two miss the mark on planning a future together?

Were you that caught up in your own world to realize that adult decisions had to be made soon?

Yeonjun walked in, interrupting your thoughts. “Oh, hey guys.”

He set his keys on the kitchen counter, giving you a funny look. “I texted you to get ready.”

“Oh..shit, I didn’t check my phone, Sorry. Give me 20 minutes.”

You didn’t question why he wanted you to get ready, he’d probably take you out for breakfast or some shit, so you weren’t suspecting anything, but Yeonjun could sense that something was off about you.

During the car ride to your unknown destination, he looked at you as you stared out of the window. You were lost in deep thought about the whole graduation thing and didn’t even notice how the houses on the streets were starting to get ridiculously big as you drove further and further into a random neighborhood

He grabbed your hand, kissing the inside of your palm while rubbing those comforting circles into your skin.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, trying to look at the road while also looking at you from time to time.

“I’m just…worried about life after graduation. I don’t like change.”

Yeonjun raised his brows in surprise, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he turned the corner into a brand-new built street filled with massive villas.

The neighborhood looked peaceful, not too flashy and private. Maybe even a little too perfect to be real.

He pulled up to a random house, parking his car on the driveway. The confusion was evident on your face as he opened the door for you, reaching out to take your hand.

He helped you out of the car and you give him a look, chuckling at his awkwardness. “Uh…are we here to see someone?”

He sighed, back hugging you and leaning his head on your shoulder as the both of you looked up at the house.

“What do you think of this place?”

“It’s…beautiful. But I don’t really get why we’re here.” You giggle as you feel him kiss your neck and you turn around to face him, trying to find answers in his eyes.

“If you want…we can stay here.” He bit his lip nervously. “You know, after graduation.”

“W-what? I’m confused. Like Till The End of Summer?”

He shook his head, laughing once again while snaking his arms around your waist at your innocence and obliviousness. “You’re so cute,” he muses, pulling out a set of keys from his pocket and suddenly realization hit you as pure shock takes over your features.  

He bought the fucking house.  

He couldn’t help but laugh at your shocked Pikachu face. He had been planning this behind your back for so long and it was incredibly hard to keep this a secret, especially since literally everyone knew about it but you.  

You didn’t know what to do or say, completely frozen and shocked as you look at the house with big watery eyes.  

He pulled you in for a deep and passionate kiss, giving you the keys to the front door with a big smile.  

“Till the End of Our Lives.”  

Bonus Chapter 15

[shurisneakers]

shut in [8]

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, implied abuse, death, implied ptsd, injuries, guns, anxiety

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: oh my god oh my god sam stans how are we feeling djkghdfjkhgdf. no thoughts only sam wilson in ep1 of tfatws <333

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! 

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

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Hey, I’m just going to step out for today.” You looked up from the doodle you were making on the corner of the paper. “Catch you later? Just find me if you need anything.”

“You okay?” You automatically sat up straighter, blanket creasing under you. Something was amiss in his body language.

“Yeah, just-” He seemed like he was struggling for words. “-Brooklyn.”

You didn’t get what he was making a reference to until it suddenly dawned on you.

It was the codeword he had suggested right at the beginning of your time in the house. If he was in danger you were sure he’d tell you, at least an inkling of information.

But no, this was for some time alone, further confirmed by the distant look in his eyes.

“Oh.” You blinked. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here if you need.”

He gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, turning around and leaving the room.

You were left staring after him, the drawing you were making of the house layout discarded on the bed. You were working on strategies, vantage points- anything that could help in case something went wrong.

Was it because of the dumb ‘moment’ you had shared two days ago? It didn’t seem like it because he hadn’t brought it up at all and God knows you would never. Was it something else that had happened, something you did?

Stop overthinking. He probably just needs a day to himself.

You had spent almost a month in each other’s company and he had never once complained. He had a tendency to be petty about minor inconveniences, like you trying to watch a movie when his favourite segment on the local news channel was going on. He liked the cooking show they hosted.

He had never made it a point to specifically tell you that he needed some time to himself, much less use the word.  

“Get yourself together,” you whispered to yourself, shaking off the nagging feeling you had.

If he had an issue, he would have voiced it. He never shied away from doing that before and you knew he wouldn’t start now.

You forced yourself to think about something else, grabbing the copy of American Gods you had already gone over once before but were subjecting to a reread. Opening the page you had last left it at, you were determined to distract yourself.

Nearly twenty minutes later and exactly zero pages since you had started, you realised that no matter how much you forced yourself to get into it, you went over the same line over and over again, not a single word registering in your head.

“Motherfucker,” you groaned, letting the book fall on your face. You took a long look outside the window, mind drifting.

It was a nice day out. Maybe some sun would help.

You lifted your legs off the bed, taking your book with you to the kitchen. You could get a nice sandwich-- the same as the last three fuckin’ weeks but you digressed-- a glass of water, and you could sit outside for a while. A mini picnic.

You opened a new packet of sliced bread, taking two out before stopping. You pondered over whether you should make him a sandwich for when he returned, knowing that he didn’t eat lunch before he left.

You thought about it for a good minute before rolling your eyes, pulling out two additional slices to make him one as well. It was just a sandwich. It wasn’t a big deal.

Tucking your book under your arm, you carried your lunch and a glass of water to the patio around the back.

The wind rustled the leaves and the sun wasn’t harsh. The low buzz of insects was the only sound that kept you company.

The air was crisp and you instantly felt better than you had all day in the room.

Setting your stuff down on the bench, you sat down, inhaling deeply.

The book suddenly didn’t seem so impossible to complete as you tried once more, slipping into the pages easily. Even after you finished your food, you continued to lounge about there, too engrossed and content to move.

You didn’t notice the afternoon go by, evening coming and going just as swiftly. You swatted at the occasional fly but nothing else bothered you.

It felt like summer break. At least what you thought it would feel like. You never had one, being homeschooled about things from various people in the organization. There wasn’t a singular, long break. You were just forced to adapt.

You didn't know how to deal with the suffocating realisation of knowing there were so many things you missed out on. It grew the longer you spent time away. You just shoved it away, forcing yourself to deal with it another day.

He comes back when the sky is slipping into shades of orange, a backpack on his shoulder. There was a patch of sweat around his neck and his head was hung low as he walked.

“Hey,” you hoped it didn't look like you were waiting for him. It could easily be taken as you camping out there, waiting for your husband to return from a hard day in the fields.

Sam looked up at your greeting. You noted that the bruise on his nose was starting to change colour but the swelling had reduced from how bad it used to be.

“Left you a sandwich on the counter if you’re hungry,” you added. He nodded in acknowledgement, making his way up the stairs and into the house without another word.

You let out an exhale, feeling a little better knowing that he was at least back in one piece. No reason to believe otherwise other than the anxiety you had developed over imagining the worst case scenarios.

You picked up your book again, intending to finish off the last bit before you went back inside for the day.

About half an hour later Sam re-emerged from the house, your attention snapping to him as the door opened and shut. He had changed into a new pair of clothes, looking a little cleaner like he was fresh outta the shower. He had a sandwich in his hand that he had already taken a few bites out of. You wondered if it was the one you left for him.

You didn’t expect him to take a seat next to you on the bench. He didn’t look at you or open his mouth to talk so you followed suit. You continued reading, or at least tried to, as he just sat there, finishing his sandwich without any kind of other interaction.

There was a strange tension he wasn’t addressing. He instead leaned back, arms crossed behind his neck to support his neck and closed his eyes. His foot tapped against the wooden floor and rather than getting annoyed, you found solace in the repetition.

“They recruited me on this day,” Sam said to no one in particular. His eyes were still closed and his feet still tapped against the ground. “Parents died when I was a kid, I got shifted around orphanages and homes a lot. Finally Ransone had someone pick me up.”

You closed your book softly, setting it down beside you. That’s what was bothering him.

Secret adoption is what they called it officially in the business, but around the organization it was just known as the recruitment process. Every record of Sam being alive would have been destroyed to maintain anonymity.

To the world he just… disappeared.

It was a day that clearly brought with it so much pain. You were too young to remember when you joined, and no one had kept track either. You supposed it was for the good.

It was supposed to be a happy day, one filled with new beginnings. Maybe that’s what he would have thought when he got picked. It’s what you did.

“I’m sorry,” you said, not having anything else to offer. You relieved your memories everyday in your head. Having a morbid anniversary of sorts would no doubt drain the life out of you; remembering one singular day that would trigger the rest of the decisions you made in your life.

He didn’t say anything in return. You turned your attention to the sky, finding it easier to look at that than the disturbed look on his face.

“Do you regret this?” he asked out of the blue.

“All of it,” you replied, without skipping a beat.

“Every single one, huh?” Sam’s one eye opened to peer at you.

“It wasn’t up to me to take someone’s life away.” You were just a child. You knew nothing other than what you were taught; so then why was it so fucking hard to forgive your past self for straying into this. “Even once I realised that I couldn’t leave.”

You didn’t form any relationships while you worked with Ransone. Whoever you did allow yourself to care for ended up dead or worse, sometimes as a cruel lesson to not make friends in the organization you worked in because all they served as were distractions and liabilities. Others were plain scum; people who you knew were using you but you didn’t care. The loneliness hurt worse.

“What about you?”

“I’d give anything to go back and change things,” he admitted. He didn’t have a say either. It didn’t make things easier.

“You regret all of ‘em too?”

“Mostly,” he said. “One of them I don’t.”

“That one must have deserved it then,” you deduced. It was the only logical explanation you could think of; the worst of the worst.

“Nah. I let him go.”

It took a while to register what he said.

“What?” You twisted your body to look at him.

“First mission I ever did.”

His hands were shaking lightly, barely holding on to the gun. This wasn’t what he was taught. Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

He had already managed to get his way into the house through the back. His partner had taken care of most of it and Sam only had to knock people out. He hadn’t had to kill anyone yet.

But now his partner was injured outside the door. Quick shot to the leg, a punch in the face and he was out cold. Sam was already in the master bedroom by the time it happened. He had no idea about where his partner was, only the crippling fear of being left alone and the nerves from the threat posed to him if this didn’t go right.

He knew he didn’t have enough time. He had only a few minutes to kill him and get out of there before his family returned.

The man itself was sitting at the study table, his back towards Sam. Just pull the trigger and get out of here. It was deadly silent.

“I know you’re here to kill me,” the man said suddenly. Sam nearly jumped but instead tightened the grip on the gun.

“Stay where you are.” He sounded confident.

“I’m not planning on going anywhere.” His chair swiveled around, letting him face Sam. His hair was white with a beard that matched. He was dressed down in his pajamas, a robe covering him. He didn’t look nervous.

“Stop talking.”

“You’re younger than what I expected,” the man observed, not paying heed to what Sam was in. He was a considerable distance away. “You’re not even legal yet, are you? I got kids, I would know.”

Sam didn’t say a word, only lifted his gun up to align with his forehead. “I said, stop talking.”

“I’ve made mistakes. Several, actually,” he mused, “It’s why your boss sent you here. I’ve accepted my fate.”

“Then it should be easy.”

“Oh, it never is,” the man chuckled. “It doesn’t get lighter. You learn to ignore it but it’ll weigh on you for the rest of your life.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. It would get easier. It had to.

“I doubt that’s what you heard, however,” he continued. “Ransone’s a bit… unstable. It’s in his blood, but you- you don’t look like you could live with it.”

Ransone’s history was well known enough that rival gang leaders knew it too, apparently. The man would have been delighted at his infamous reputation.

Just shoot him. Just shoot him and end this.

“What’s your name?” the man asked, taking a sip from the tumbler he had in his hand. “You’re going to be the last person I talk to. It’d be nice to have a name.”

“Sam,” he whispered, inwardly cursing himself.

“Sam. That’s a strong name,” the man said, clicking the roof of his mouth with his tongue. “Are you sure this is what you want to do, Sam?”

It wasn’t.

“I don’t have a choice.” He hated how defeated he sounded. It was a weakness.

“They want you to believe that. It takes away your freedom. I would know, I’ve used it.” The man smiled, setting down his glass. “I’ll tell you this though, Sam. You always have a choice.”

“Stop talking, man.” Sam pulled the safety off.

“Once you go down this way, there’s no way you can escape. Someone will always have to die; either him or you.”

“That’s not true.” He could leave at any time. He just needed-

“You’ll see for yourself.” The man leaned back on his chair, resigned. “But for now, go ahead. I’ll make it easy for you.”

He simply closed his eyes and sat back.

You waited for Sam to continue.

“Couldn’t do it,” he said, shaking his head lightly. “Son of a bitch got in my head and I knew what he was doing too. Told him to get the fuck out before my partner shot him in the face.”

“Does Ransone know?” You were still reeling from the incident he recounted. You didn't know what else to say.

“Holds it over me every damn day,” he scoffed. “Some fucked up way of saying that I owe him one.”

To be frank, you were surprised Sam was still alive to tell you. Everyone knew that Ransone forgiven the first mistake someone made, but this was huge. If it were anyone else, he would have had someone try out a hundred different ways to push Sam to the brink of death and back; having him begging for the release that death would bring.

“He hasn’t ever cashed in that favour?”

“He did. Had me take out the leader of the Ten Rings after that.”

“So then why did you still continue?”

“I did something extremely dangerous a couple of years ago that he found out about recently. Used that to get me to come for this mission.”

He didn’t elaborate what he meant and you didn’t ask him to. You supposed it was a story for another day. This was heavy enough.

“He wants to get rid of me as much as I want to get away from him, trust me. We’re the weird, toxic relationship those self-help Instagram pages warned you about.” Trust Sam to make a dumb joke during a conversation like this. “Probably the only time someone from the gang let their target go and not died.”

That wasn’t as true as he thought he was but you didn’t want to seem like you were one-upping him. You didn’t want him to think you were making this about you.

“You remember the big break you were talking about?” you tread carefully, gauging his reaction before you continued. “The one that pushed me up the ranks or whatever.”

He gave a small hum of acknowledgement, bringing his hands from behind his head to fold across his chest.

“Similar story, ‘cept Ransone doesn’t know.”

“What?” His eyes shot open. “How?”

“I was so tired of him treating me like a child. Everyone around who joined after me was out there doinghardcore missions and I was stuck with petty shit.” You didn’t know any better. You wished you had. “So he told me if I made it through this one, he’d send me on more.”

This wasn’t your first mission. You had handled hits before, mostly in the shadows, from a distance.

This was different. It was broad daylight, waiting behind a wall near the gated entrance of the house for a car to pull up.

A challenge, Ransone had posed, with strict instructions to do it in broad daylight. If you got out of this undetected, he’d consider sending you on more sophisticated missions.

“Highly stealthy. They’re dangerous,” you were warned. “You won’t know what hit you if you’re caught off your game.”

The low rumble of the car outside the gate alerted you of your target’s arrival. The gates weren’t going to open, the guards were dead.

The car stopped, waiting for the path to open up. When it didn’t the car’s engine slowed to a stop. The man in the driver’s seat got out to open the gate, giving you a clear shot.

You took a deep breath, clenching your eyes shut for a second before taking aim.

The body hit the gravel and you quickly made your way to the car. You could see the woman in the backseat gaping at where the man was standing a few seconds ago. She was struggling against the door, trying to escape.

She finally succeeded, the door opening suddenly as she stumbled over herself trying to get out.

“Stay there,” you commanded. She slowly looked up at you, face white as a sheet.

“Please,” she croaked. “Don’t hurt us.”

“I’m sorry.” You truly were.

Her face changed, dropping the facade immediately. She just looked on in acceptance, not making an effort to move. Manipulative. She almost had you convinced

You held the gun over her, pulling the trigger. A single shot. Her body slumped over.

You stared at her in silence, expressionless. You let out an exhale, tucking the gun back into the waist of your pants, stepping over her body to leave.

A small, staggering breath made you stop in your tracks. It was so slight you barely heard it. You took a step back, trying to trace where it came from.

You ducked your head to peer into the car, your heart stopping. Your hand instinctively reached for your weapon.

“What the-” you muttered, facing a boy who looked only a few years younger than you. He was staring straight ahead, muscles in his jaw tight.

The son wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be abroad, according to the case file. Unless there were two of them you didn’t know about, this boy wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Listen,” you began, but he didn’t look at you. Just stared straight ahead, body trembling. He was scared. He didn’t show it.

“Show no mercy,” Ransone’s voice rang in your head.

“He’s a child,” you murmured to yourself. Your gun felt heavy in your hand.

Show no mercy.

You could only imagine what would be in store for you if you returned to Ransone with some tale of sympathy. This boy was only a few years younger than you. He didn’t have anything to do with this.

Show no mercy.

“Kid,” you called out. He slowly turned his head. “Go on. Get out of here.”

“What?” he asked, voice hoarse.

“Leave. You can’t be seen if someone comes back,” you urged. “I won’t be able to help you.”

“You killed my mom,” he jeered, unmoving.

“I’m sorry. I had to.” Your voice was quiet. Your hand clutched at the hood of the car to keep your balance. “But I don’t want to hurt you. Go.”

When he didn’t shift, you slammed the hood of the car, scaring him enough to pull at the door and stagger out of the car.

You turned your back to him, not waiting to see where he was going. The more deniability you had, the better.

“Did he make it?”

“He did,” you divulged the information you had found out a while ago. It was a messy confrontation to say the least but you got out unscathed.

“And Ransone doesn’t know.”

“There’s no record of this kid. He thinks he was at boarding school.” You shrugged. “Wasn’t going to correct him either.”

“If he did find out-” Sam trailed off.

“I’d be dead,” you concluded. “Being his favourite wouldn’t matter.”

“Why was it such a big deal, this mission?”

“She was a part of a major gang that Ransone was losing to.”

Sam just nodded knowingly, looking ahead again. You knew he’d done missions like this as well. Things like this were common so it didn’t need further elaboration.

“This job sucks,” he let out.

You gave a short laugh. That was an understatement.

“I want out. Can’t keep doin’ this for much longer,” he continued, however, to your surprise. “Don’t wanna keep doin’ this.”

You bit your lip, eyebrows knitted in concern. “You will.”

“How?” You hadn’t seen him like this before, this hint of desperation in his tone that left as quickly as it came. “I’ve tried, everything just comes up short.”

“I’ll help you.” You wanted to, God you did.

“You gonna kill him for me?” He looked at you. “‘Cause that’s really the only way out of this.”

If you were pushed to the limit, if he was on his knees in front of you and there was a gun in your hand pointed at him; would you be able to pull the trigger? Would you be able to kill the only constant you’d had for more than half your life?

“I can’t,” you muttered, dejection making its way into your thoughts.

“I know,” Sam said softly, “I wouldn’t ask you to either.”

You took a moment to observe him. The sun did him good. There was a soft glow to his skin, the colours of the sunset dancing in his dark eyes. Laugh lines were becoming more prominent around them, only adding to its charm.

He was a good man. He deserved better.

“I’ll find a way,” you sounded determined, “I promise.”

You didn’t say that very often. Your word didn’t mean a lot to people in the business, but it seemed to, to him.

“Thank you.” He appeared taken aback but didn’t show it in his words.

You simply sent him a smile, a reassurance. You knew what you had to do, just weren’t sure how.

He was right. There wasn’t a way out of it other than the one he proposed, but it wasn’t an option. You had to find another.

You would. You’d figure it out.

“It’s Cinnamon, by the way,” he said without any context.

You looked at him in question.

“My embarrassing nickname.” This was not where you saw the conversation heading but you were delighted all of a sudden. “My ma used to call me that all the damn time. Mortifying.”

“Cinnamon and Buttercup.” You didn’t bother hiding the grin that spread across your face. “World’s best assassins.”

“If that name ever leaves this conversation, I’ll know who to murder.”

“You couldn’t even if you tried,” you said playfully, nudging his shoulder.

He shrugged, face relaxed. “T’was worth a shot.”

An unintentional pun you snickered at. You didn’t tease him any further, just filed the name away as a memory. Maybe you’d use it later.

“Have you ever let anyone go after that?” You didn’t want to keep coming back to this conversation but you liked having someone to relate to.

“No.” Sam shook his head. “Didn’t want to test my luck.”

“Me too.” One had been enough. You lived in fear for so long, waiting for someone to pull the plug and tell him what you’d done. That fear only grew everyday, finding a place at the deepest corner of your mind to fester.

“It’s what I meant when I said Serpentine had a motive to want me dead,” Sam said, piquing your interest once more.

“Huh?”

“The man I was supposed to kill- he was their old head. He disappeared after that and no one heard from him but it pissed off everyone, right from Ransone to their stupid gang’s janitor,” he explained, your eyes going wide with every word. “So the irony is, if we’re right, I might have led us into this situation. They’re looking for revenge.”

“Holy shit,” you uttered under your breath.

“I just assumed he died of old age if someone didn’t get to him first. He looked like he was one birthday away from the grave anyway.”

“How are you still alive, Sam?” you asked in wonder.

“I’d do it again.” He laughed, a deep one from his stomach.

He was reckless, clearly. Happily and unashamedly so. And if you continued to hang out with him after this was over, he’d probably get you killed in some stunt or two.

But maybe you’d deal with that if the time came. 

He leaned back again, this time no creases on his forehead from stress. He looked at peace.

You sat together in silence. You occasionally stole glances at him as the sun set in front of you, a small smile on your face.

You leaned your head on his shoulder tentatively. You could feel him tilt his head to look at you and you prepared to have him ask you to move.

It never came. Instead, he scooted closer to you, letting you rest against him more comfortably. Your heart skipped a beat; barely but surely. 

A realisation quickly hit you, suddenly before consuming you. Your stomach sank.  

“Fuck.”

Next part

[stardusttrashed]

Lovestruck (3)

Part 2

Part 4

Pairing: Professor Erwin x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 5K

A/n: I made a playlist that I felt matched professor Erwin vibes :) enjoy! 

Warnings: 18+ (minors please dni), oral (male and female recieving), unprotected sex, creampie, slight breeding kink, praise kink, swearing, fluff

Erwin’s lips never left you as he carefully carried you to his bed, his hands groping and massaging your ass every step of the way. His lips peppered kisses along your jaw, neck, cheeks, lips, really any piece of you they could get. Every small gasp he caused only fed his ego, pushing him further. 

“God, you’re perfect,” Erwin mumbled against your lips as he cradled your head before laying you on the bed. He hovered over you, the hand he used to cradle your head now resting beside you to hold him up. He couldn’t help the starstruck look on his face as he admired your lust-blown eyes and kiss swollen lips. 

All jokes aside, you were the real goddess, and he wanted to bask in every ounce of your glory-- to worship you until his final days. Everything and everyone before you didn’t matter; they were all just stepping stones towards you. This is where he belonged. 

“Y’know,”  you purred, leaning up to peck his lips, “I’d say the same ‘bout you.” You wrapped an arm around his neck, urging him closer. Your fingers combed through his hair languidly, “ if you’d stop being a fucking tease!” 

Erwin chuckled and shook his head. It wasn’t that he wanted to tease; he just wanted to take his time. He wanted you to know you weren’t a quick fuck to him-- you deserved so much more than that. “Patience, Darling,” he cooed as he brushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His body wanted you more than words could describe, but the hopeless romantic in him had other plans. “What does your natural hair look like,” Erwin asked suddenly with a childlike wonder.

Giggles streamed from your lips like an overflowing cup at his abrupt question. “Erwin, I swear,” you rolled your hips against him, “if you don’t stop teasing- ah!” Your threat was cut short, replaced by quiet whimpers as Erwin’s grip on your hip tightened.

“Or what?” Erwin asked cheekily, grinding against you, the bulge in his sweats rubbing against the warmth between your legs. He loved the way you nodded desperately, arching your back to press yourself against him, falling apart beneath him before he even really did anything. “You sure you want this?” he continued when he got no verbal response.

“God, yes,” you cried out without hesitation as you dug your heels into his back. “P-please fuck me,” you begged, your free hand tugging on the hem of his shirt. “I want you so bad, Erwin. You can be cute later, but now-- right now,” your breath hitched in your throat as his hips continued to grind against yours. “Ngh, right now, I need you to fuck me.”

Erwin hummed in approval, your words going straight to his throbbing cock. He was using every ounce of self-control in his body to hold himself back from ravaging you right then and there. It didn’t help that you were clinging to him in ways he’d only imagined. “L-listen, darling,” he stopped his movements, releasing his grip on your ass. 

Panic and disappointment rushed through you as every worst-case went through your head. He was going to blue-ball you. No, he was going to say this was a mistake or that he-.

“If we’re going to do this,” he continued, his hand coming up to take your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Erwin placed a chaste kiss on your lips, “we’re going to do it right.” His tongue darted across his bottom lip, the hunger from earlier returning to his eyes. “I’m going to take my time,” he paused to place another lingering kiss on your lips. “And. I’m. Gonna. Savor. Every. Bit. Of. You,” he continued, punctuating every word with a kiss on a different part of you. Your nose, your lips, your cheek, your jaw-- heading lower and lower until his face hovered over your breast. “And I don’t want to hear a single complaint, got it?” 

“Yes, sir,” you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. It was almost embarrassing how wet you were just from his kisses. You could feel yourself clench around nothing, desperate for Erwin’s attention. The way his eyes darkened at your words sent your heart into an adrenaline rush overdrive. 

The title sounded so sweet on your lips. You were driving him crazy, yet you probably didn’t even realize it. He looks up at you with a drunken grin, “good girl.” 

Erwin’s hand trailed down your body, exploring every dip and curve until they landed on the hem of your shorts. “You’re a fucking dream,” he groaned as he lowered himself between your legs. He planted a gentle kiss against the inside of your thigh before nipping at the flesh. It was as if he was testing the waters, trying to learn your body. Your soft moans encouraged him, helping his nipping transform to desperate sucking. He wanted to leave a mark-- something that reminded you of him, even if everything changed in the morning. 

His hand pulled the shorts off your body teasingly slow, removing his lips momentarily before tossing them over his shoulder and returning to his attack on your thighs. “You’re my dream,” he breathed out without thinking, making your pussy flutter. Erwin’s eyes flickered up to yours as he pressed a kiss to your clothed mound. “Can I ?”

You nodded frantically, your hips writhing in anticipation. “Erwin, please,” you begged with a shaky breath, looking down at him pleadingly. You laced your fingers in his hair, gently tugging in a desperate act to pull him closer. “Now.”

“Patience,” Erwin gently scolded as he pulled your panties off, tossing them aside, the same way he had with your shorts. His breath hitched in his throat at the sight; your legs spread wide, putting your pussy on display. You were drenched, lips glistening with your slick. 

Erwin laid on his stomach and hooked his arms underneath your thighs. You gasped excitedly as he pulled you close to his face. The anticipation was growing in both of you as his breath fanned over your thighs. He licked a long stripe over the trail of marks he left on your thigh, stopping short of where you needed him most. 

You let out a frustrated whine which earned a soft chuckle from him. The wait was killing you, sending your back into a desperate arch as your hips began grinding against the air. 

Without wasting another moment, Erwin buried his face between your legs. He moaned against you as he slipped his tongue between your folds.

A gasp escaped your lips as he lapped up your slick as if he was determined to drink all of you in. You pulled harder on his hair, your nails gently scratching his scalp. “M-more.” You struggled to keep your eyes open, torn between wanting to admire him in action and wanting to get lost in the feeling. You had spent countless lectures and hangouts imagining the things his mouth could do, and he wasn’t disappointing. 

You tasted absolutely divine, and he couldn’t seem to get enough. Erwin closed his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing together as he concentrated on devouring you. He needed every bit of you as his tongue reached inside of you further and further, fucking his name’s way onto your lips. He needed to hear you moan his name like a mantra just as much as he needed to consume whatever you’d let him. 

Erwin pulled away momentarily-- his lips and the tip of his nose shining under the dim room light-- before latching his lips around your clit. He sucked almost teasingly, gently rotating between sucking and kitten licking the bud. 

“Erwin, sir— ah,” a moan ripped from your throat as he effortlessly slid a finger into your greedy pussy. Watching the way your pussy sucked in his finger made him unbelievably hard. It almost hurt if he was honest. He gave it a few pumps, brushing against the spongy spot inside you repeatedly before being joined by another finger. You moaned his name as he pushed his fingers into the hilt. Those two syllables fell from your lips easier than your breath and left you wanting more.

“That’s it, baby,” Erwin purred, releasing your clit from his mouth as he curled his fingers. “Tell me how good you feel.” His fingers picked up speed, causing you to throw your head back against the pillow. A proud smile formed on his lips as your hips began to buck in time with his fingers, desperately trying to fuck yourself. Your moans were like music to his ears, the most saccharine sound he’s ever heard. He almost couldn’t believe he was the reason you were making such beautiful sounds. “I wanna hear you.” 

Despite his gentle tone, the statement came out demanding, and you were far too gone from bliss to try to defy him. “S-so good-- ah! ‘M close.” You began to writhe beneath him, the knot in your stomach threatening to explode at any given second. You pulled your shirt over your head, haphazardly tossing it aside. The room was too hot, or maybe it was just your body.

“Go ahead, Darling, come for me,” Erwin cooed before returning his lips to your clit. His cock was throbbing in his sweatpants, but he convinced himself it’d be worth it once you came. So he ignored the ache and put all his focus on kitten licking your sensitive nub.

That’s all it took for you to come undone-- just a few words of encouragement, and you were falling apart. Your trembling legs threatened to close around his head as he slowed his movements. All you could seem to moan was his name in your hazy post-orgasm state. Even if you could say something else, all you wanted to say his name.

Erwin held your legs in place with his arms as he planted one last kiss on your clit before pulling his fingers out. He was drunk on your taste, convinced you were the best-tasting thing he’s ever and will ever have. He drags himself away from you with a borderline cocky smile. “Good girl,” he praises. 

You could feel a blush forming on your cheeks as you watched him slide the fingers that were just inside you in his mouth. The treatment you just received was nothing compared to the hungry eyes that stare you down, complemented by Erwin’s soft moans. You reached a hand out towards him, silently urging him back up to you.

Erwin obliged without hesitation. He would do anything for you right now. No, he’d do anything for you whenever you wanted. You had him completely wrapped around your finger. He laced his fingers with your outreached hand, making you smile bashfully.

You watched as he crawled back over your body like a lion stalking its prey. And yet, you felt no fear. If anything, you felt calm beneath him, entirely at ease. You were his already, whether he knew it or not. You weren’t even sure how long you had been, but it was clear as day that there was no need for him to stake his claim-- you would submit willingly any time. 

“See, slow-,” you cut Erwin off with a rushed kiss. You kiss him with bruising force, stealing his breath. Shivers ran down his spine as your hand found its way underneath his shirt. He could feel his brain turn to mush with each scrape of your fingernails against his sides. He groaned into the kiss, giving you the chance to slip your tongue into his mouth.

“Too many clothes,” you mumbled breathlessly against his lips. You tugged on his shirt, “off. Now.” Your eyes were glued on him as he reached behind his neck and released your hand, sliding the shirt off in one smooth motion. “Those too,” your eyes flitted down to his sweatpants. Erwin laughed softly but obliged nonetheless. 

Erwin climbed out of bed, standing right by the edge of it. His cheeks heated up underneath your gaze as his fingers toyed with the waistband of his sweats. You chewed on your bottom lip as your eyes tracked his every movement, constantly scanning him from head to toe. “Like what you see?” he asked teasingly, trying to calm his rising nerves.

“Always have.” You bit your bottom lip anxiously. “Part of the reason I paid so much attention in class. And why I became your TA.”

Erwin chuckled, shaking his head as he stripped out of his sweats and underwear in one go. “And here I thought it was because you were interested in the content.”

“Oh, I was interested, alright,” you mumble, barely loud enough for him to hear. You could feel your cheeks grow warm as his cock sprung out of its confinement. “So pretty,” you hummed absentmindedly with your eyes glued to it. The aching need between your legs was becoming too much. You squeezed your thighs together for some sort of friction. 

“Can-can I give you head,” you asked as you crawled your way to the edge of the bed. “Wanna suck you off.” You timidly reached out to touch him but stopped a few centimeters short. This all felt unreal, and you were convinced you’d wake up at any second now and realize this was all just a dream. 

Erwin gently took your hand in his, pulling it up to his lips so he could kiss your knuckles. “You don’t have to.”

“But I wanna… only if you want me to, though.” You look up at him with big innocent eyes, “do you?”

“God, yes.” The delighted smile that formed on your face made it clear to Erwin- you were going to be the death of him. He guided your hand down his body until your hand was resting in his cock. “Show me what that pretty little mouth of yours can do.”

“Yes, Sir,” you purred as you wrapped your hand around his cock. You had always pictured him as a man who was packing, joking with a few classmates at his porn-worthy package. A few of the more infatuated classmates would try to convince you he was hiding some sort of horse cock in his trousers. But this. The sight in front of you was better than you had imagined. Sure, it wasn’t overwhelmingly massive, but it sure as hell wasn't short either. It was-- “perfect,” you breathed without realizing it as your hand slowly pumped him. Had you looked up, you would’ve seen the pink blush on Erwin’s cheeks caused by your words. But you didn’t; your eyes were glued to his pretty pink shaded tip- your tongue practically hanging out of your open mouth.

You leaned forward, licking the pre-cum leaking from his tip with a satisfied hum. You gently kissed it, causing Erwin to buck his hips forward with a whine involuntarily. “I’m starting to get why you like taking it slow,” you finally looked up at him through your lashes with a shit-eating grin. Before he could retort, you dragged your tongue along the underside of his cock, licking up to the tip. Erwin’s moan filled the room as your lips wrapped around his tip, and you began sucking ever so gently. 

Erwin couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Every little movement was being permanently ingrained in his brain, stored for later in case this was nothing more than a fling to you. He swore this was a dream as you took as much of him as you could, his tip hitting the back of your throat. “Y/n,” he moaned as he resisted the urge to grab your hair. 

You hummed around his length in response, looking up at him through your lashes again. He was a sight to behold. The Greek god of a man that so many people vied for was slowly unraveling in your hands. He was a moaning mess, your name tumbling out with a mixture of praises more times than you could count as you hollowed your cheeks and bobbed your head. Your hand pumped and twisted around whatever you couldn’t fit.

“Fuck-- shit, Y/n.” Erwin fought to keep his ocean eyes locked with your own. “D-Darlin’ ‘m not gonna-.” He practically forgot how to breathe as your other hand began to massage his balls. His legs nearly buckled beneath him, his moans transforming into whimpers and incoherent mumbles. “S-stop, no more,” Erwin pulled you back by your hair, careful not to hurt you. He closed his eyes and took a few breaths to steady himself. You had brought him close to his orgasm quicker than he expected, and as fun as cumming in your mouth sounded, he had other plans for the night.

You pouted-- not that he could see with his eyes closed, “You sure?” 

Erwin shook his head slightly, but a firm ‘yes’ was said. He stood there for a few seconds as he pulled himself out of his blissed-out space. “I wan-,” he finally opened his eyes, the hunger from before returning tenfold, “I want to be inside of you. Like right now… if you want.”

You nodded with your lip tucked between your teeth, “I need you.” Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed his hand that was reaching for his nightstand. You both froze, staring at each other with wide, confused eyes for a long moment. “I- Erwin,” you laced your fingers with his in an attempt to anchor yourself, “I want all of you.”

Time stopped in Erwin’s mind along with everything else-- his ability to speak, his ability to think, his breath, his heart. He stared at you dumbfounded, gaping like an idiot.

“But if you feel more comfortable with a- mm.” He cut you off, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss- lust and something infinitely deeper in the hunger he shows you. You believed without a doubt that he’s been waiting for this- craving it as long as you. 

Erwin crawled into bed clumsily, his hand still in your while he kissed you with everything he had. He nudged you backward, guiding you to the middle of the bed before helping you lay down. You took his breath away, and he knew he would suffocate in your kisses, but he didn’t mind the slightest. 

His forehead rested against yours once he regretfully broke the kiss to catch his breath. “I’m all yours,” he whispered with the bit of air he had, his breath fanning over your shining lips. He reached between the both of you, lining himself up with you. “Yours and only yours.”

An adoring smile formed on your lips as you reached up to cup his cheek with your free hand. “And I’m all yours.” You watched his eyes light up like the stars in the night sky, twinkling above you and making you feel like you were special.

Erwin sweeps forward, taking a long grateful kiss from your lips. The grin on his face says everything you need to know. He ducks to brush his lips up your neck before easing his tip inside. He could hear everything now, and it was like taking a fresh breath of air. Every sound you made was amplified compared to before, and he loved it.

“All yours,” you repeated into your moan. You lifted your hips to meet his own, urging him to go further. As he gradually pushed into you, Erwin’s moans were so lovely- deep needy moans that would sometimes borderline breathless and high pitch. 

You both wanted to ingrain the moment into your brains. For once, you were in complete agreement that slow and steady was more fun. You were equally in love with the feeling of you stretching around him almost as much as you loved listening to each others’ moans. You squeezed his hand in an attempt to transfer the dull yet intoxicating pain elsewhere.

“So perfect,” Erwin moaned as he finally bottomed out, stilling himself to give you time to adjust. You fit him perfectly, your cunt clinging to him and desperately trying to suck him in further. “Like you were made for me,” he thought aloud. Erwin kissed his way up your neck as he began to pull out at a snail’s pace. The further he pulled out, the more he could feel you start to squeeze as if you were trying to keep him there. His fingers skimmed along your thigh, trailing down to your knee before guiding your leg towards his waist. 

You hummed a whiny response as you hooked your leg around his waist. The pace was agonizingly and seductively slow, giving you both plenty of time to revel in the feeling. “S-so good,” you mewled as he pushed back in, gradually filling you again. His warm breath tickled your skin while his bottom lip dragged up your neck. It wasn’t until he had reached your jaw when his other lip joined in the journey, peppering you with kisses. 

Erwin left a trail of gentle yet sloppy kisses up to your lips, drinking in every moan. Fuck, I love you, Erwin thought as he kept his slow pace. The words never came out of his mouth, though, his lips far too preoccupied trying to find a balance between ravaging you and loving you sweetly. 

He wasn’t fucking you- that much was apparent to the both of you. This wasn’t a quick one-time thing. No, he was taking his time, paying attention to what earned those sweet little gasps of yours. He was burning into his memory the sounds of your saccharine moans. You held him so close it was hard to tell whose body was who’s, every part of your bodies dissolving into each other. He wanted this for the rest of his life- he wanted you, no, he needed you. 

He needed you like Icarus needed the sun. Your warmth was intoxicating, leaving him in a permanent state of pure bliss. You were his light, his strength, his weakness, but more than anything; you were the missing piece of him. He wanted to show you, to tell you, but all he could manage was moans. 

“Erwin,” you moaned, pulling him back down to Earth. His pace had sped up while he zoned out, filling the room with the sound of slapping skin. He was driving into you, hitting your g-spot as he tried to go deeper and deeper. “M-more. Please, baby,” you reached up to cup his cheek, guiding his face until his eyes met yours. Your lips curled into a sweet, adoring smile, “I-.” The words got caught in your throat, moans replacing them with ease. 

The look in your eyes was all he needed. He understood the message that never got the chance to come out. Erwin pressed his forehead against yours, brushing his nose against yours tenderly, “me too.”

You weren’t sure if he was talking about the same thing as you, but it made your stomach flutter nonetheless. Your lips found his again for a chaste kiss as you tighten your grip around his hand. It felt like a fire had been lit in your stomach, threatening to combust at any given moment. Every time Erwin hit your g-spot, it added to the flame, tossing in sticks until the small flame transformed into a bonfire. Your moans became incoherent sounds as you struggled to keep staring up at his breathtaking eyes. 

Erwin’s hips were beginning to falter, his cock twitching inside of you. He wanted to tell you, but he couldn’t get the words out. He couldn’t get the moans to transform back into words. Fuck, he was going to cum.

“Erwin, ngh,” you arched your back, pressing you impossibly close to him. “So close.” You could feel Erwin’s eyes remain focused on you even after you close your own. 

“That’s it, darling,” Erwin cooed soothingly as he squeezed your hip. “Let go,” his hips stuttered as your walls squeezed him tighter before creaming around him, “ ‘ve got you.” He kissed you sweetly, his tongue caressing yours as he swallowed your screams. He slowed his strokes down until he was back to his teasing pace from earlier, gently bringing you down from your high.

You were left dizzy from the mixture of his kiss and your orgasm, but the feeling of him preparing to pull out completely quickly sobered you up. “Stay,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please, baby.”

Erwin froze in place, his tip still tucked inside of you while your leg around his waist tightened. He could feel you trying to urge him back inside. His heart rammed in his chest as he stared at you with a mesmerized expression on his face. Without warning, his hand released your hip to run possessively up and down your side. You were his. You said it yourself. And he was going to make sure you stayed his. His hips slammed into yours as he began to thrust into you with new vigor. He couldn’t help but picture you by his side every day, fucking you whenever and wherever. He wanted to fill you up, not just with his seed- he wanted you to have his babies. He wanted to see your stomach grow with a little him and you inside, to see your breast swell. He wanted to be able to look at you every day and know he was the reason you could barely walk. He let out an animal-like growl at the thought. 

“ ‘ve got you, baby,” you mewled, feeling his twitching cock release warm ropes of cum inside of you. Erwin stilled inside of you, letting you milk everything out of him before finally pulling out and collapsing on the bed beside you. 

Erwin turned to look at you and found your gaze transfixed on him like you're under a spell. He could feel his cheeks grow warm under your undivided attention, making him feel like a shy schoolboy despite the events that just unfolded. Part of him wondered if he’d ever stop feeling like that around you. 

You watched with a slight smile on your face as he climbed out of bed, putting his underwear back on before walking to the bathroom. He returned shortly after with a wet washcloth. You sat in a comfortable silence as he wiped you clean, watching as his eyebrows furrowed slightly from concentration. You opened your mouth to say something, but he walked away to toss the washcloth in the dirty clothes before you could. You scooped up his shirt and slipped it over your body as he climbed back in the bed. 

Erwin laid on his side before wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him.  “That was…” he drifted off with a dopey smile, his eyes trailing down once he noticed you were wearing his shirt. 

You shrugged, fighting back a smile as you threw your leg around his hip once again. “I dunno. Think I need another round before I can form a solid opinion,” you teased. Erwin raised an eyebrow at you in amusement. “What-,” you giggle as you play with the hair matted to his forehead, “-you’re the one who always talked about making sure you have a rough draft.”

“I don’t think that applies here, darling,” he chuckled while his hand lazily drew shapes on your back. “And even if it did, I’m too old for that right now. Old men gotta get their sleep.”

You rolled your eyes, the smile you had been fighting making its way onto your lips with full force. “You’re not even that much older than me!”

“I know, but those four extra years really make a difference with bedtime,” he chuckled, loving the way you smiled. He kissed the tip of your nose, “But you do want to again, right? I mean, do this,” he nodded his head, gesturing between you two. 

You nodded bashfully, “of course… and I- I don’t just mean the sex.” You stifle a yawn,  “I wouldn’t mind doing all of this again. I meant what I said,” you trailed off, suddenly getting unbearably bashful. 

Erwin smiled at you adoringly, pulling you closer. He swore he’d do anything to keep you like this- he’d do anything for you. “As did I-.” he paused to peck your lips, “-and I’ll mean it just as much tomorrow, and the next day, and as long as you’ll let me. But first, I want you to stop fighting your sleep.”

“I’m not fighting it,” you talked through your yawn. “You are, Mr.eye bags.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” he chuckled, bringing his hand up to trace underneath your eyes. You let out a content hum, the warmth of his hand causing your eyes to flutter close. Erwin took the chance to plant little kisses on each of your eyelids, only to have you mumble sleepily ‘weirdo.’  “On the bright side,” he chuckled as his thumb slid down to caress your cheek, “having eyebags has never looked prettier.” 

You were on the verge of sleep, catching every other word as his baritone voice lulled you closer and closer to bedtime. “Promise I won’t wake up and find out this was all a dream,” you mumbled as you let sleep take over. 

He grabbed your hand from his hair, bringing it down to his lips before kissing your palm, “you have my word.” He watched a tired smile grace your lips as you drifted off to sleep. A quiet chuckle fell from his lips. You left him breathless even in your sleep. “I love you,” he whispered once your breaths grew deep and steady, signaling him you fell asleep. He wistfully closed his eyes to go to sleep. As tired as he was, he knew nothing in his dreams would compare to the sight before him. You were the best dream he could ever think of.

[doctorstethoscope]

Lucky || A. Hotchner x Reader

Hi all! This is my submission for @ssahotchswife ‘s Soft Hotch Saturday. I hope you enjoy. 

Summary: Aaron comes home from a case with a minor injury, and reader remembers just how lucky they are that he came home at all. 

Warnings: stitches. blood, mention of food. SMUT, 18+ NSFW CONTENT, MINORS DNI. 

Fluff, slight angst. No gendered pronouns, but reader has a vagina.

Word count: 1.5k

You were in the kitchen, standing over a pot of pasta, when you heard the door swing open. 

“Aaron?” You called, surprised to see him home when the sun was only just starting to set in the August sky. He followed the sound of your voice into the kitchen.

“Smells good,” he smiled at you, and you rested your wooden spoon on the countertop before wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. He winced. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, pulling back from him immediately and looking over him for the first time this evening, noticing that he is not exactly the same man that he was when he left two days ago.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he told you, flexing his shoulder with another wince. 

“Your face is all cut up.” You said, running a thumb over one of the angry red scabs on his cheek. “What happened today?” 

“I had to get a couple of stitches in my shoulder. Nothing’s wrong, they are just a little sensitive, is all.” he deflected. 

“Aaron!” You let out in a gasp. 

“Honey, look at me. I’m completely fine.” He smiled at you, no doubt trying to charm you into forgetting your concern. You weren’t so easily won.

“That’s not the point!” You snapped, and immediately regretted it. “Well, that is the point. I’m glad you’re okay. But you should have called me. This case was local. You took an ambulance to the hospital by yourself and then sat all alone while the team finished the case, didn’t you?” He might be a profiler, but you knew him. 

“It was eight, very simple stitches. I was fine. They had important work to do.” He defended himself softly.

“Baby, you are important.” You reminded him, placing a hand on his cheek. “And you and I are a team now. You don’t do things like this on your own anymore. When you’re hurt, you call me, and I come take care of you. Don’t do that again.” 

He placed his hand over the one you had placed on his cheek and pulled it towards his lips so he could leave a kiss on your palm. “Thank you,” he murmured against it. 

“Take off your shirt.” You ordered. 

“Excuse me?” He laughed, treating you to one of those smiles that could almost knock you over with their intensity. 

“Go on, turn around and strip. I want to inspect the damage,” you told him, giving his ass a quick tap as he turned around and unbuttoned his shirt. He left his undershirt on, as the stitches were on the back of his shoulder. You traced your finger over the bottom of the bandage gently. 

“How long?” You asked. 

“I go back in ten days to have them taken out.” He told you. 

“Could’ve been a lot worse,” you whispered, letting out a humorless chuckle.

“But it wasn’t,” he said, turning around to face you again. You didn’t meet his eyes. He took your hands in his. 

“No, not this time. We got lucky.” you added, still whispering.

“Hey, come on, don’t do that. I’m right here, I came home to you. My number one priority every time I leave is coming back to you just like this. 

“Yeah. Minus the stitches.” You agree with a tearful little laugh. 

“Can I help you with dinner?” He asked, and you just shook your head, taking the pasta off of the heat and draining it. 

“Are you hungry now?” You asked him. 

“I could eat,” he said noncommittally.

“Or… you could wait?”

“I could wait,” he confirmed. 

You were back in his arms in an instant, your fingers carding through his hair as you kissed him soundly. Aaron responded in kind, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer, his hands roaming up and down the expanse of your back. You tilted your head back and he moved to place kisses across your jawline and neck. After a moment, you felt his hands slide down to your thighs and you took his cue, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his back as he carried you to the bedroom, careful to avoid his stitches as you wound your arms around his neck. He placed you onto the bed and leaned in to press a kiss right beneath your ear. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and you shook your head, holding back a fresh wave of tears. 

“I love you,” you told him, and kissed your neck again, whispering the same phrase back to you against your skin.

 You tugged at his undershirt, and he pulled away just enough for you to divest him of it, using the time to hook his fingers into the waistband of your athletic shorts, dragging them down your legs along with your panties. Your shirt lands somewhere near Aaron’s, you think, but it doesn’t really matter. He places kisses against your hip bones, on the soft flesh of your inner thighs, with a final destination obviously in mind, when you realize that he’s still entirely clothed from the waist down. You prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“Aaron--” you whisper, but he cuts you off. 

“Shh,” he cooed. “Let me show you how much I love you. Let me show you how sorry I am.” 

He looked up to meet your eyes, and the love was so clear on his face that you were helpless to do anything other than believe him. You had a feeling you’d enjoy his display regardless. 

Aaron continued kissing and nipping at your thighs, and you could feel the heat pooling where you needed him most. He took his mouth away from you and you whimpered, craning your neck to see what had distracted him from you. He had two of his fingers in his mouth, and you chuckled. The man treated foreplay like a full-time job, and he had never once started anything before you were well ready for it, but he was still so determined to make you as comfortable as possible. He dragged his index finger along your slit, gently teasing your clit for a moment before bringing it inside you. You gasped, and he let out a low moan. 

“So wet,” he muttered, and you smiled. The man was a skilled dirty talker, but you could tell he was holding back, trying to make this special for you. You egged him on a little. 

“All for you. Only for you,” you told him, resisting the urge to peg a “daddy” to the end of your sentence. There would be plenty of time for that later.

He groaned as he pulsed in and out of you, adding another finger once he knew you were ready. 

“Aaron, I need you,” you told him, and he pulled his fingers out of you in an instant, moving swiftly to pull his belt off and shuck his pants to the floor. You sat up, pulling his boxers down and letting his cock spring free. He inched himself up the mattress, bracketing his arms on either side of your face. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss your neck again, moving one hand to roll your nipple between his thumb and index finger.

“Aaron, please. No more teasing,” you practically begged, and he slid inside of you, filling you up immediately. You let out a low moan and he threw his head back, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. You noticed, with a bit of self-satisfied smugness, that a smirk has found his way onto his face. 

“I will never have enough of you,” he whispers into your ear as he moves in and out of you and you shudder. 

“You have all of me. I’m yours.” You remind him, wrapping your arms around him and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Just keep coming home to me, yeah?” 

“Nowhere else I’d rather be. Fuck, you feel so good.” he tells you, shifting his weight so he can snake one hand between the two of you, bringing his fingers back to your clit. You gasp.

“Are you-- are you close?” You manage to whimper out, and he smiles, clearly impressed with his own ability to reduce you to a puddle underneath him. 

“Let go, sweetheart. Come for me.”

You were helpless to do anything else, the pleasure spreading swiftly from your core to every surface of your body. Your skin was on fire and you felt heady, in the best way possible. Aaron guided you through your orgasm, finding his peak shortly after you found yours.

“I don’t deserve you.”  You correct him as soon as you catch your breath.

“I guess we are both very, very lucky, then.” He smiles, clearly spent, kissing your cheek before rolling over and padding off to the bathroom to get a washcloth for you. 

“Very lucky, indeed.” You agreed, although he couldn’t hear you. 

He cleaned you up delicately, leaving kisses against your skin as he rubs you down and mumbling against you. He discards the washcloth and gathers you up against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. You let out a contented little sigh as he hooked his chin over your shoulder. 

“The luckiest,” he whispers just as you fall asleep.

[robertreich]

6 Crucial Races That Will Flip the Senate

This November, we have an opportunity to harness your energy and momentum into political power and not just defeat Trump, but also flip the Senate. Here are six key races you should be paying attention to. 1. The first is North Carolina Republican senator Thom Tillis, notable for his “olympic gold” flip-flops. He voted to repeal the Affordable Care Act, then offered a loophole-filled replacement that excluded many with preexisting conditions. In 2014 Tillis took the position that climate change was “not a fact” and later urged Trump to withdraw from the Paris Climate Accord, before begrudgingly acknowledging the realities of climate change in 2018. And in 2019, although briefly opposing Trump’s emergency border wall declaration, he almost immediately caved to pressure. But Tillis’ real legacy is the restrictive 2013 voter suppression law he helped pass as Speaker of the North Carolina House. The federal judge who struck down the egregious law said its provisions “targeted African Americans with almost surgical precision.” Enter Democrat Cal Cunningham, who unlike his opponent, is taking no money from corporate PACs. Cunningham is a veteran who supports overturning the Supreme Court’s disastrous Citizens United decision, restoring the Voting Rights Act, and advancing other policies that would expand access to the ballot box. 2. Maine Senator Susan Collins, a self-proclaimed moderate whose unpopularity has made her especially vulnerable, once said that Trump was unworthy of the presidency. Unfortunately, she spent the last four years enabling his worst behavior. Collins voted to confirm Trump’s judges, including Brett Kavanaugh, and voted to acquit Trump in the impeachment trial, saying he had “learned his lesson” through the process alone. Rubbish. Collins’ opponent is Sara Gideon, speaker of the House in Maine. As Speaker, Gideon pushed Maine to adopt ambitious climate legislation, anti-poverty initiatives, and ranked choice voting. And unlike Collins, Gideon supports comprehensive democracy reforms to ensure politicians are accountable to the people, not billionaire donors. Another Collins term would be six more years of cowardly appeasement, no matter the cost to our democracy. 3. Down in South Carolina, Republican Senator Lindsey Graham is also vulnerable. Graham once said he’d “rather lose without Donald Trump than try to win with him.” But after refusing to vote for him in 2016, Graham spent the last four years becoming one of Trump’s most reliable enablers. Graham also introduced legislation to end birthright citizenship, lobbied for heavy restrictions on reproductive rights, and vigorously defended Brett Kavanaugh. Earlier this year, he said that pandemic relief benefits would only be renewed over his dead body. His opponent, Democrat Jaime Harrison, has brought the race into a dead heat with his bold vision for a “New South.” Harrison’s platform centers on expanding access to healthcare, enacting paid family and sick leave, and investing in climate resistant infrastructure. Graham once said that if the Republicans nominated Trump the party would “get destroyed,” and “deserve it.” We should heed his words, and help Jaime Harrison replace him in the Senate. 4. Let’s turn to Montana’s Senate race. The incumbent, Republican Steve Daines, has defended Trump’s racist tweets, thanked him for tear-gassing peaceful protestors, and parroted his push to reopen the country during the pandemic as early as May. Daine’s challenger is former Democratic Governor Steve Bullock. Bullock is proof that Democratic policies can actually gain support in supposedly red states because they benefit people, not the wealthy and corporations. During his two terms, he oversaw the expansion of Medicaid, prevented the passage of union-busting laws, and vetoed two extreme bills that restricted access to abortions.The choice here, once again, is a no-brainer.

5. In Iowa, like Montana, is a state full of surprises. After the state voted for Obama twice, Republican Joni Ernst won her Senate seat in 2014. Her win was a boon for her corporate backers, but has been a disaster for everyone else.

Ernst, a staunch Trump ally, holds a slew of fringe opinions. She pushed anti-abortion laws that would have outlawed most contraception, shared her belief that states can nullify federal laws, and has hinted that she wants to privatize or fundamentally alter social security “behind closed doors.” Her opponent, Democrat Theresa Greenfield, is a firm supporter of a strong social safety net because she knows its importance firsthand. Union and Social Security survivor benefits helped her rebuild her life after the tragic death of her spouse. With the crippling impact of coronavirus at the forefront of Americans’ minds, Greenfield would be a much needed advocate in the Senate. 6. In Arizona, incumbent Senate Republican Martha McSally is facing Democrat Mark Kelly. Two months after being defeated by Democrat Kyrsten SINema for Arizona’s other Senate seat, McSally was appointed to fill John McCain’s seat following his death. Since then, she’s used that seat to praise Trump and confirm industry lobbyists to agencies like the EPA, and keep cities from receiving additional funds to fight COVID-19. As she voted to block coronavirus relief funds, McSally even had the audacity to ask supporters to “fast a meal” to help support her campaign. Mark Kelly, a former astronaut and husband of Congresswoman Gabby Giffords, became a gun-control activist following the attempt on her life in 2011. His support of universal background checks and crucial policies on the climate crisis, reproductive health, and wealth inequality make him the clear choice. These are just a few of the important Senate races happening this year. In addition, the entire House of Representatives will be on the ballot, along with 86 state legislative chambers and thousands of local seats.

Winning the White House is absolutely crucial, but it’s just one piece of the fight to save our democracy and push a people’s agenda. Securing victories in state legislatures is essential to stopping the GOP’s plans to entrench minority rule through gerrymandered congressional districts and restrictive voting laws — and it’s often state-level policies that have the biggest impact on our everyday lives. Even small changes to the makeup of a body like the Texas Board of Education, which determines textbook content for much of the country, will make a huge difference. Plus, every school board member, state representative, and congressperson you elect can be pushed to enact policies that benefit the people, not just corporate donors. This is how you build a movement that lasts.

[athenadione]

‘you are mine (and I am yours)’

In which you can find out the hard way that demons don't like sharing. @vi-la-vi

AthenaDione and I did a thing! Everyone loves jealous Damian, but hear us out....jealous Raven? Hope you enjoy! -Vi

I’m so incredibly honored to participate in this collab. Vi practically paved the way for me to give you all the delicious demon Raven smut that ensues and did a superb job writing the majority of this piece, as always. If you enjoy and feel so inclined, you can leave a kudos HERE on A03. Vi— thank you for allowing me to be a part of your writing process. You’re such a talented writer and I’m happy to have found you :) -AD

She couldn’t stop staring at him. Not just because it had been years since she last saw him, but because ever since she met him, Anna Vandergilt had thought of little else. 

Damian Wayne. 

They’d met at a benefit when both were sixteen years old, and it had been love at first sight. The elusive heir finally returned to Gotham after five years abroad, doing god knows what. She’d collected every bit of information she could about him, academic transcripts, tabloids, medical and legal records. Vandergilt influence ran deep and she had no compunction about using it to fuel her obsession. Securing an internship at Wayne Enterprises as Tim Drake’s assistant was just the latest step.

And now he’s here, and I won’t let him get away again. 

Damian had to remember her, the spark when their eyes met, the unbreakable connection they’d made. He didn’t acknowledge it when they were introduced, but that was fine. He was an intense, secretive man and likely just didn’t want to make a scene. 

Green eyes flashed to hers and narrowed, catching her staring. She willed herself to keep it together, sitting up straighter and crossing her legs in an attempt to draw his attention to the slit in her pencil skirt. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and leggy, she knew how to make men stare.

Or so she thought. Damian had turned his attention back to Tim’s presentation, arms crossed and expression impatient. So serious. She planned ways she might be able to get him alone, with no one and nothing to distract him from her. After today, I’ll have more than just fantasies. She’d been looking for an opening to approach him all day and was sure she couldn’t wait much longer.

They broke for lunch, but just as she moved towards him she was intercepted by Tim. 

“Hey Anna, can you run up to my office and grab my blue flash drive? I forgot to bring it down earlier.”

Get it yourself! she wanted to snap. An assistant position was well beneath her pedigree, and she hated taking instructions from common-born Tim Drake. Swallowing her irritation, she smiled and nodded. 

When she finally returned, Damian had already gone, apparently having had a lunch appointment with someone else. Anna sighed. I’ll speak to him after work, I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to dinner and drinks. No man had ever refused her.

She spied him later as she was returning to the conference room, speaking to a dark-haired woman she didn’t know outside of his office. She took a moment to admire him in his suit, noting curiously that the girl with him was only casually dressed in black jeans and an off-shoulder top with a band logo. Unprofessional much? He’s probably scolding her about the dress code.

Just as the thought solidified, she leaned up and pressed a kiss to the underside of Damian’s jaw, tugging his tie playfully as she did so.  

It was as though a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over her head. Anna stood stock-still, mouth falling open in horror. Who the fuck...how dare…?

The woman whispered something in his ear, kissing his jaw again as Damian rolled his eyes and smirked. She continued to stare, waiting for him to shove her away, glare, do something. She heard someone approach from behind. 

“Ugh, those two,” Tim groaned. 

“Who is that?” Her voice was tight and strained, and the man next to her gave her a curious glance. 

“That’s Rachel, Damian’s girlfriend.”

“Oh,” she said, at a loss for anything else. 

It’s not fair. I planned...I’ve been waiting…

She shook her head, determination moving in. A minor setback. He just needs to know there’s something better on the market. Vandergilts were practically royalty, after all. Her beauty and breeding were no doubt superior. She bit back her anger as Damian dropped a kiss on the other woman’s forehead before walking away.

Just a minor setback, she mentally repeated.

-

Tim’s assistant had a serious staring problem, and Damian was relieved when he was finally able to retire to his office. Annoying. The older man had joked earlier that Damian’s constant absence in Gotham and avoidance of the public eye elevated him to mythical status among some of his father’s employees. He longed for this week to end, eager to be back in Jump and away from the Wayne gawkers. 

His phone buzzed, distracting him from the revenue charts in front of him. 

“Stephanie is insane.”

Damian smiled, eyes darting to his watch to see how much longer he’d be stuck in this office. As necessary as it was that he be here for the audit, he felt bad abandoning Raven to his siblings. Next time they came to Gotham he’d make sure it was purely recreational and personally show her the sights.

“A half hour more, then I will come rescue you.”

Then two days more, and they would be home. 

A knock on the door called his attention. “Mr. Wayne? Could I borrow you for a moment. I need a second pair of eyes on this file.”

He looked up, raising an eyebrow at the worshipful expression on her face. The scent of expensive perfume assailed him and Damian fought the urge to wrinkle his nose. She looked at him hopefully, blinking rapidly.

“Ask Drake.”

She shifted, reaching up to toy with her platinum blonde hair. “Oh...he just has so much on his plate. I wanted to avoid bothering him,” she replied, voice high and lilting. 

Strange woman. Damian wondered where his older brother had found this one. He hadn’t really been paying attention when they were introduced, Vander-something or other.

He sighed. “Fine.”

“Oh, thank you,” she breathed.

She circled around the desk to stand next to him, laying the file in front of him and bending low. A fall of blonde hair brushed his shoulder and Damian shifted slightly to put some distance between them. He spent so little time in normal society it was easy to forget how bad most people were with personal space. 

“What exactly did you need help with?”

“This.”

Without warning, she sat on his lap and pressed her lips forcefully against his, throwing one arm around his neck for good measure. Damian completely froze, protests firing rapidly through his mind. She tugged on the waistband of his pants and it was enough to break his paralysis. He shoved her off of him violently and she caught herself on the desk, shifting it several inches back.

“What are you doing?!”

The alarm on her face lasted only a second before being replaced with a coy smile. “Don’t be shy, I know you remember me. It’s been years, but you’re all I’ve thought about, Damian. I swear.”

“I - don’t…” Damian felt uncharacteristically frazzled. “I have - no. I’m not interested,” he finally managed.

“Please, Damian.” She tried to take a step forward and he instinctively backed away. He hated the way she said his name, he realized distantly.

“I have a girlfriend,” he said, hard edge in his voice. One who would kill you and probably me if she was here right now. Raven did not share.

The woman sniffed. “Her. Don’t be ridiculous, you’re a Wayne. She can’t possibly-”

“Enough.”

He glared fiercely, daring her to try and continue. Tears swam in her blue eyes and Damian felt a touch of relief that he finally managed to get through.

“I...hmph, fine. Keep her on the side if you must. My father had a mistress. Just keep her out of my sight.”

She’s insane. What the fuck kind of vetting process do you have, Drake?

He closed his eyes and exhaled before meeting her watery gaze once again. 

“Listen very carefully. I. Am. Not. Interested. I want you out of this building in the next five minutes or I’ll call security.”

“I - but - we…” She straightened, eyes glassy with disbelief as she tried to compose herself. “I see.”

Damian kept his glare on as she left the room, feeling a headache build behind his eyes. He grabbed his phone again, feeling a pang of guilt when he saw Raven's name, and called his brother.

"I fired your assistant. You're welcome."

"What? Damian, you can't just show up and start firing people!"

"I'll...explain later." Vaguely, and with as few details as I can manage.

The hint of discomfort in his voice must have given him away. "Seriously? No wonder she was staring at you all day.”

"Drop it."

"Alright, alright. Her dad's going to be pissed though, he pushed Bruce for months to take her on here. Sounds like you got your very first stalker."

Well that was a disturbing thought. Damian shook it off. "Just tell him it didn't work out." He didn't want any rumors getting back to Raven if he could help it. 

-

Lying to an empath is easier said than done.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

"I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She snorted disbelievingly, eyes glued on the book in her hand. “Why do you feel so guilty?”

“It was a long day. I felt bad for you.” Half-truths were the only semi-effective way he’d found of getting around her lie detector. Normally Damian would smother inconvenient questions with lips, hands, and other parts of him that Raven was always deliciously responsive to, but touching her would have felt wrong right now. She deserved to know the truth before she decided how near she wanted him.

She rolled onto her side then, burrowing down against her pillow and studying him curiously. “You don’t have to spend every second with me, Damian. I’m pretty self-sufficient, in case you haven’t noticed.”

He shrugged, laying back and closing his eyes. “I’ll just be glad to get out of here. People in Gotham are a different breed.”

Raven hummed. “Fine, don’t tell me what’s actually bothering you.” 

With that, she leaned over to kiss him goodnight. Damian flinched at the contact before responding in kind, and pretended he didn’t see the confused look in her eyes. 

“I love you,” he said, focusing the emotion to make sure she felt it as well. 

She closed her eyes, slightly mollified. “I love you, too.”

I'll tell her when we get home, he promised himself. As much as he hated keeping secrets, he knew she was going to be upset and preferred a controlled setting. Damian remembered an incident shortly after they began dating when the ticket-taker at the theater had slipped him her phone number. Raven said nothing at first, but the night ended in a supply closet instead of a screening room.

"I don't share," she whispered dangerously, legs tightening around his hips to draw him in deeper. Red flickered across her purple irises. “You’re mine.”

He smirked at the memory. We never did get to see that movie.

Definitely safer for all involved to wait until they'd left Gotham.

-

Anna stared at her discreetly from the park bench. He’s loyal, that’s all. And I wouldn’t have him any other way.

She grudgingly admitted to herself that the other woman was pretty, if unconventional. Pale purple eyes and dark purple hair - hadn’t anyone told her the punk rock look was out of date? She had nothing on the blonde’s classical beauty.

A hefty bribe to the Wayne's chauffeur had given her knowledge of the woman's - Rachel's - movements throughout the day. She was ordinarily accompanied by Tim's banshee of a girlfriend and one of Bruce's orphans, but had separated from them earlier in the day to visit Gotham’s Arts District. Anna waited until she saw her enter the nearly empty arboretum before making her move. If Damian couldn’t be persuaded to break things off, this one could. An affair with the office hottie - tale as old as time.

“Pardon me?” She adopted a nervous affect as she approached, eyes downcast. “You’re Rachel, right?”

The other woman tore her gaze from the plaque in front of her, violet eyes locking on baby blue. “Do I know you?”

“Anna. I work - worked at Wayne Enterprises. I’m really sorry to do this, but...there’s something you need to know.”

She regarded her silently and the blonde fought the urge to fidget. There's something off about her. What were you thinking, Damian? Finally, Rachel nodded once, crossing her arms. Anna smiled internally and fiddled anxiously with her hands, doing her best to look miserable.

“I was Tim’s assistant until Damian fired me yesterday,” she began, voice weepy. “Tim’s the one who told me about you, I swear I didn’t know before.”

Rachel’s eyes narrowed, something dark and inscrutable flashing in and out of her gaze. “...Excuse me?”

Anna took the low anger in her voice as an encouraging sign and continued. She dropped her eyes again and let out a harsh sob. “I’m not the kind of person who fools around with other women’s boyfriends, and-"

A massive burst of black and red interrupted her thoughtfully planned speech, demolishing the stone plaque next to them and knocking her to the ground. She screamed, covering her head  with her arms. A bomb? What’s happening?

Before she could get her bearings, something hauled her up by the throat, slamming her painfully against a tree. She blinked against the white spots in her vision and the dust in the air, squinting to see what held her. 

Four slitted golden eyes met her own, radiating fury so thick she could almost taste it. I’m seeing things. I hit my head and I’m seeing things. The devil tightened its hold on her neck and stepped closer, heat pouring off its red skin. Terrified beyond anything she’d ever felt, Anna felt her bladder let go. 

“Did you fuck Damian?” it - she - asked in a deadly calm voice.

“Wh-what?” she croaked. No way...what the fuck is she?!

“Answer, mortal.”

She sobbed in her grasp, all her carefully crafted lies flying away in the wake of her terror. “No! I just kissed him!”

The claws (claws?!) around her neck tightened and she felt warm trickles of blood start to seep down into her collar. 

“That - that’s all! That’s all I did! I’m sorry!” she cried, “I’m so sorry! It won’t happen again!”

“I know.”

Shadows wrapped around the two of them and she screamed.

-

Stupid, stupid woman, Damian thought furiously, raising his eyes from the weeping figure on the floor. He’d put it together fairly quickly after walking in the door, and was currently kicking himself for not considering this possibility. She’s clearly deranged, I shouldn’t be surprised she approached Raven.

The woman in question sat in a nearby armchair, looking every bit the queen of hell she was. Her demonic appearance and the regal way she carried herself in this form lent their mundane bedroom at Wayne Manor the feel of some macabre court.

“Something to confess?” his demoness asked lowly. 

“I was going to tell you when we returned home. This is the exact situation I was trying to avoid.” Sparks of black and red magic at her fingertips told him that was the wrong thing to say. 

“You think a couple hundred miles would have saved her from me when I found out? I would cross entire universes.”

The woman before her seemed to curl in further on herself, as if trying to become a smaller target. Prayers fell from her lips, whispered and unintelligible.

 “She’s not worth it. I would have made you see that.”

“That’s not your decision to make. You are mine, this was a challenge to me. A proper demon would have brought just the head.”

A loud wail met her words and golden eyes flicked downwards, oozing contempt. Damian felt a thrill race down his spine. He'd never seen her this angry - possessive. The idea that he was the catalyst, that his composed, serene Raven was burning so brightly over a stolen kiss made his blood tingle. 

Apparently feeling the weight of the demon’s stare, she covered her head with her hands and tried to choke back her cries. A prey-like instinct to hide taking root. 

He swallowed before speaking, mindful of the thin ice he was on. “I know you’re upset, but you can’t kill her.”

An amused sound escaped her, and Damian wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret it. “Beloved?”

She finally met his eyes again, clearly unhappy with the situation. “Fine. But if I ever see or sense this creature near you again, I will tear her apart slowly. Testor ego eam.”

With that, she waved a hand and the other woman vanished in a rush of black. He didn’t bother to ask where, not wanting to push his luck with Raven right now. Hysterical as the other woman was, no one would believe anything she had to say anyways. 

The demoness crossed her arms, studying him silently. She seemed to have no intention of changing back to her human form. Oh. 

“I suppose I’m in trouble as well?”

“Lies deserve punishment. And you need to be reminded who you belong to.”

“You, habibti. Always.”

Her smile offered nothing but trouble and his heart started to pick up. "That’s a start."

“Oh?” he asked her, not moving from the spot where he stood. It seemed that court was still in session, and her final judgement on his own transgressions had not yet passed. 

She picked at a claw unhurriedly, hooded eyes flicking over his figure. Not one to back down, he met her appraising stare inch for inch.

“Did you know that demons mate for life?” she asked without warning. 

“No, beloved,” he breathed. The information was new but it hardly mattered. He had already decided that he was going to spend the rest of his life with her long before they ended up together. He just wondered why she felt it necessary to mention now. 

“It’s a sacred bond. Actually sacred, unlike human marriages. Challenging it is the worst insult one demon can deal to another.” Her eyes narrowed, and her claws seemed to sharpen before his eyes.

“She wasn’t a-”

“No one will threaten our bond. Do you understand, mate?”

Dear gods. 

He resisted the urge to lick his lips, instead pressing them firmly together. “You should know that you will never be at risk of losing me, beloved.” 

“I know. I also know you will never lie to me again.” The demoness waved a clawed hand before resting it underneath her chin. She was waiting for him. He swallowed again.

“What can I do to make amends?” 

Her grin widened, boarding on malevolent, as if she finally found the answer she was looking for. Lifting effortlessly from her chair, she began to stride across the room to him with measured steps. 

“I have a few ideas.” She purred. 

“Oh?” he asked again, displeased at how out of breath he sounded. 

Golden eyes held his own, and she didn’t speak again until she was just an arm's length away from him. 

Then she pointed at her feet. “Kneel.” 

He felt his jaw go slack. She wants me to do what? 

She cocked her head at his hesitation. “You will not kneel for your demoness?” She clicked her tongue in distaste. “Don’t you want to remedy your indiscretions?”

He set his jaw, barely suppressing a wince.  When she put it that way, there was no reason not to kneel before her, even if the thought of doing so went against every instinct in his body. He did, after all, lie to her, and if this was what she wanted from him then who was he to deny her?

Besides, there would be an opportunity for her to return the favor. I’ll make sure of it. 

Revealing nothing, he stared at her impassively and slowly dropped to one knee, biting back a scowl as her smirk grew. 

Then, he watched as a slender leg poked out from the slit of the dress she was wearing, and a strappy, black heel. He gave her a simmering look, then took it in his hands without a word, and pressed a kiss to her ankle, trailing up the side of her calf. 

“That’s very nice, mate.” She murmured, resting a clawed hand onto this shoulder. “What else are you willing to do for me?” 

A light smirk replaced his features. She was asking him to seduce her. To fuck her. That was something he would be more than willing to oblige. 

He promptly stood to his feet and grabbed her wrist, pulling him into his chest. To his amused delight, she went pliant in his arms— nearly purring as he captured her lips with his. He kissed her thoroughly, drowning out the memory of the other gods-awful kiss that’d been forced upon him. 

Then a clawed hand traveled his cheek lightly, moving its way to the back of his head. She suddenly grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged downwards, tearing his lips from hers. He hissed when sharpened teeth latched themselves on his neck, nipping at the exposed flesh there before soothing it with her tongue. 

Then she began to walk forward, forcing him to step with her— until the back of his knees touched the mattress of their bed. 

“Meus es tu.” She said lowly, and she pushed at his chest, sending him backwards.

It turned into a battle for assertion. One that he admitted he thoroughly enjoyed— and intended on winning. 

He took her with him, grabbing her waist to position her underneath. His smile was smug when he peered down into four golden slits, obviously dissatisfied at the turn of events. 

Ignoring her bared teeth, he nudged open her legs with one knee before settling between them, then rolled against her in one swift movement, taking pleasure in the way she threw her head back with a growl. 

He continued his ministrations, trailing hot kisses down her neck, just as she did to his moments before. One hand reached up to graze her breast as his kisses went farther down the middle of her chest, while his other hand roamed over the swell of her hips. 

Raven in turn, was growing more frustrated with every second he kept her distracted with his teasing, light touches. 

“Enough.” It was a command.

By the time he managed to blink he found himself on his back and she was straddling his waist. 

Her hands encased with her dark magic. “Alliges duplicia.”

His arms lit up with her magic and they were forced above his head. When he tried to bring them back down he was met with resistance. What the hell? When he looked up his eyes widened with realization. She bound my fucking hands to the headboard. 

“Raven.” He snarled in warning, tugging on his bonds. The demoness was unperturbed by his outburst. 

“You will submit to me, mate.” A dangerous red swirled in those golden irises, and he clenched his jaw in response, then bit back a groan when she brushed against his length. 

“Let me go.” He glared. 

“I will not. This is your punishment. You will stay like this until you beg for me.”

“Tch.” 

He detested how painfully hard he was. His erection strained against his trousers, and he couldn’t contain his next groan when she palmed him. 

It didn’t matter how much he wished she’d slip her hand underneath his belt. He would not beg. 

She began to strip slowly, until she was completely bare before him, and then she peeled off his pants carefully— and then his shirt. His full erection was on display for her, and he released a strangled noise in the back of his throat when she settled her heated core against him.

She chuckled darkly when he twitched underneath her. “Say please.” 

“No.” he gritted out, breath hitching when her mouth latched onto one of his nipples, nipping roughly. Her tongue flicked it right after, mixing the pain she had caused with pleasure. 

“No?” Her claws wrapped around his throat, squeezing in warning. “You are in no position to deny me, mate.” 

He just glowered.

“Fine.” She relented, retracting her claws. “You will break eventually.” 

Her fingers lifted to her full breasts, reddened from her true form, and her fingers began to tease one darkened nipple into a tight peak. The bonds went taut when he pulled at them roughly in an attempt to reach out to her. She noticed this and smirked as she teased her other nipple, then rocked against him. They groaned together.

He watched as she then slipped one hand down to her core and began to tease herself, parting her folds before slipping a finger inside while grazing against his cock. 

She moaned, mouth parting slightly and he growled again in protest. That should be his fingers inside of her. 

“If you insist on not obeying me, then I will use you for my own pleasure.” She sunk down onto his cock and his head hit the wall with his groan. Fuck, she felt so damned good and the pace she was setting set him on a steady course towards an impending orgasm, regardless of how much he despised not being in control. 

“Beloved.” He growled when she brought him to the brink all too soon, then slowed back down while teasing her clit with her own fingers. Quick, circling motions that revealed her own need to him— that she was nearing her own orgasm. 

He caught her hitched breath. She was losing resolve, caught in her own wave of pleasure. 

“Release me.” He tugged on his bonds again and bucked his hips into her for good measure. “I want to be the one to fuck you when you come.” 

She gasped and clenched around him, drawing him even deeper. “I will come soon. If you want to fuck me, you must beg now.” 

He cursed. Goddamn her. 

“Please, habibti. I am yours.” 

With a victorious smirk, she waved a hand. That smirk was short-lived however, because as soon as the bonds disappeared he lunged for his little demoness, twisting them both before pulling out of her to roll her onto her stomach. 

“You are mine too, Beloved. I will also make sure of that,” he snarled into her ear, teasing his cock at her entrance. His hands held her pressed against the bed. 

The demoness laughed, then inhaled sharply when he pushed into her with one swift movement. They were both right at the edge, only a few more thrusts was all it would take to throw them both over.

“I can feel how close you are,” He reached a hand underneath her to press his thumb directly against her clit, “Come with me, now.” 

She cried out— a sound that was more animalistic than human, and she fluttered around him. He fell shortly after, nearly seeing stars. He continued to thrust languidly, drawing out their orgasms. Vaguely, he watched as Raven’s skin turned from red to flushed ivory. One pair of eyes turned to peer up at him instead of two, and the color of her irises receded to lavender. 

For a moment he watched her transform, breathless. 

She smiled up at him as her breathing returned to normal and he returned it before dropping his face to her neck. “I’m going to have to make you jealous more often,” Damian murmured into her skin. 

Raven snorted, lifting a hand to run through his sweat-soaked hair. “Unwise. Not only will I definitely kill the next one, it will hurt the entire time she is dying.”

“Green is a good color on you, habibti.”

She said nothing, but he could feel her contentment in the gentle run of her fingers across his hair and skin. As post-orgasmic clarity continued to take hold a question popped into his mind and he leaned up to regard her.

“When were you planning on telling me we were essentially demon-married?”

She flushed. “Eventually. Are you...did you not want…?”

He silenced her with a kiss, letting his actions and strength of his emotions answer her question. As though he could ever give this up, or stomach the idea of either of them being with someone else. 

After all, Damian didn’t share either.

[samwisethewitch]

Coping with religious trauma

CONTENT WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS DISCUSSIONS OF MENTAL ILLNESS, TRAUMA RECOVERY, AND HOMOPHOBIA. The advice in this post is intended for an adult audience, not for those who are legal minors.

A lot of people find their way to paganism after having traumatic experiences with organized religion, especially in countries like the United States, where 65% of the population identifies as Christian. (This number is actually at an all-time low — historically, the percentage has been much higher.) Paganism, which is necessarily less dogmatic and hierarchical than the Abrahamic religions, offers a chance to experience religion without having to fit a certain mold. This can be extremely liberating for people who have felt hurt, abused, or ignored by mainstream religion.

To avoid making generalizations that might offend people, I’ll share my own story as an example.

My family joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, better known as the Mormons, when I was nine years old. The Mormons are an extremely conservative sect of evangelical Christianity that places a heavy emphasis on maintaining a strong community that upholds their religious values. The problem with that is that Mormon values are inherently racist, sexist, homophobic, and transphobic. As a teenager in the Mormon Church, I was told that as a woman, my only purpose in life was to marry a (Mormon) man and raise (Mormon) children. I was discouraged from pursuing a college education if it meant delaying marriage. I was not allowed to participate in the full extent of religious ritual because I was not a man. I was not allowed to express myself in ways that went against Mormon culture, and I kept my bisexuality secret for fear I would be ostracized. I didn’t have any sort of support system outside the Church, which inevitably made the mental health issues that come with being a queer woman in a conservative Christian setting much, much worse.

I left the Mormons when I was seventeen, and by that time I had some major issues stemming from my time in the Church. I had been extremely depressed and anxious for most of my teen years. I struggled with internalized misogyny and homophobia. I had very low self-esteem. I had anxiety around sex and sexuality that would take years of therapy and self-work to overcome. I wanted to form a connection with the divine, but I wasn’t sure if I was worthy of such a connection.

I was attracted to paganism, specifically Wicca, because it seemed like everything Mormonism wasn’t. Wicca teaches equality between men and women, with a heavy focus on the Goddess in worship. It places an emphasis on doing what is right for you, as long as it doesn’t harm anyone else. It encourages sexuality and healthy sexual expression. Learning about Wicca, and later other types of paganism, helped me develop the kind of healthy spirituality I’d never experienced as a Mormon. Although Wicca is no longer the backbone of my religious practice, it was a necessary and deeply healing step on my spiritual journey.

I’m not sharing my story to gain sympathy or to make anyone feel bad — I’m sharing it because my situation is not an uncommon one in pagan circles. The vast majority of pagans are converts, meaning they didn’t grow up pagan. Some had healthy upbringings in other faiths, or no faith at all, and simply found that paganism was a better fit for them. Others, like myself, had deeply traumatic experiences with organized religion and are attracted to paganism because of the freedom, autonomy, and empowerment it offers.

If you fall into this latter category, this post is for you. Untangling the threads of religious trauma can be an extremely difficult and overwhelming task. In this post, I lay out six steps to recovery based on my own experiences and those of other people, both pagan and non-pagan, who have lived through religious trauma.

While following these steps will help jumpstart your spiritual healing, it’s important to remember that healing is not a linear process — especially healing from emotional, mental, and spiritual trauma. You may have relapses, you may feel like you’re moving in circles, and you may still have bad days in five or ten years. That’s okay. That’s part of the healing process. Go easy on yourself, and let your journey unfold naturally.

Step One: Cut all ties with the group that caused your trauma

Or, at least, cut as many ties as reasonably possible.

Obviously, if you’re still participating in a religious organization that has caused you pain, the first step is to leave! But before you do, make sure you have an exit plan to help you disengage safely and gracefully.

To make your exit plan, start by asking yourself what the best, worst, and most likely case scenarios are, and be honest in your answers. Obviously, the best case scenario is that you leave, everyone accepts it, and all is well. The worst case scenario is that someone tries to prevent you from leaving — you may be harassed by missionaries or concerned churchgoers, for example. But what is the most likely case scenario? That depends on the religious community, their beliefs, and how involved you were in the first place. When making your exit plan, prepare for the most likely scenario, but have a backup plan in case the worst case scenario happens.

Once you’ve prepared yourself for the best, worst, and most likely outcomes, choose a friend, significant other, or family member who can help you make your exit. Ideally, this person is not a member of the group you are trying to leave. Their role is mainly to provide emotional support, although they may also need to be willing to run off any well-meaning missionaries who come calling. This person can also help you transition after you leave. For example, you might make a plan to get coffee with them every week during the time your old religious community holds worship services.

Finally, make your strategy for leaving. Choose a date and don’t put it off! If you have any responsibilities within the group, send in a letter of resignation. Figure out who you’ll need to have conversations with about your leaving — this will likely include any family members or close friends who are still part of the group. Schedule those conversations. Make sure to have them in public places, where people will be less likely to make a scene.

If you feel it is necessary, you may want to request that your name be removed from the group’s membership records so you don’t get emails, phone calls, or friendly visits from them in the future. You may not feel the need to do this, but if contact with the group triggers a mental health crisis, this extra step will help keep you safe.

Of course, it’s not always possible to completely cut ties with a group after leaving. You may have family members, a significant other, or close friends who are still members. If this is the case, you’ll need to establish some clear boundaries. Politely but firmly tell them that, although you’re glad their faith adds value to their lives, you are not willing to be involved in their religious activities. Let them know that this is what is best for your mental and emotional health and that you still value your relationship with them.

Try to make compromises that allow you to preserve the relationship without exposing you to a traumatic religious environment. For example, if your family is Christian and always spends all day on Christmas at church, offer to celebrate with them the day after, once their religious commitments are over.

Hopefully, your loved ones can respect these boundaries. If not, you may need to distance yourself or walk away altogether. If they are knowingly undermining your attempts to take care of yourself, they don’t deserve to be in your life.

During this time, you may find it helpful to read other people’s exit stories online or in books. One of my personal favorites is the book Girl at the End of the World by Elizabeth Esther. Hearing other people’s stories can help you remember that other people have been through similar situations and made it out on the other side. You will too.

Step Two: Seek professional help

I cannot overstate the importance of professional counseling when dealing with trauma of any kind, including religious trauma. Therapists and counselors have the benefit of professional training. They are able to be objective, since they’re approaching the situation from the outside. They can keep you from getting bogged down in your own thoughts and feelings.

I understand that not everyone has access to therapy. I am very lucky to have insurance that covers mental health counseling, but I know not everyone has that privilege. However, there are some options that make therapy more affordable.

There may be an organization in your area that offers free or low-cost therapy — if you live in the U.S., you can find information about these services by checking the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) HelpLine or visiting mentalhealth.gov. You can also look for therapists who use a sliding scale for payment, which means they determine an hourly rate based on the client’s income. And finally, if you have a little bit of extra cash you may want to look into therapy apps like BetterHelp or Talkspace, which are typically cheaper than in-person therapy.

If none of those options work for you, the next best option is to join a support group. Support groups allow you to connect with other people whose experiences are similar to yours and, unlike therapy, they allow you to get advice and feedback from multiple people. These groups are often free, although some charge a small fee.

Finding the right group for you is important. You’re unlikely to find a group for people recovering from religious trauma but, depending on the nature of your trauma, you may fit right in with a grief and loss group, an addiction recovery group, or a group for adult survivors of child abuse. If you’re a member of the LGBTQ+ community, you may be able to find a queer support group. (The LGBTQ+ club at my college was an invaluable resource in my recovery!) Depending on your area, you may also be able to find groups for specific mental and emotional issues like depression or anxiety.

Make sure to do your research before attending a meeting. Find out what, if anything, the group charges, who can join, and whether they use a curriculum or have unstructured sessions. See if you can find a statement about their values and philosophy. Make a note of where meetings are held and of who is running the group. Some support groups meet in churches and may or may not have a religious element to their curriculum. It’s best to avoid religious groups — the last thing you need right now is to be preached to.

Getting other people involved in your recovery will make you feel less alone and prevent you from getting stuck in your own head. A good therapist, counselor, or support group can help you realize what you need to work on and give you ideas for how to approach it.

Step Three: Deprogramming

“Deprogramming” refers to the practice of undoing brainwashing and reintroducing healthy thought patterns. This term is normally used in the context of cult survivors and their recovery, but deprogramming techniques can also be helpful for people recovering from a lifetime of toxic religious rhetoric.

To begin the process of deprogramming, familiarize yourself with the way organizations use thought control to shape the behavior of their members. I recommend starting with the work of Steven Hassan — his BITE model is a handy way to classify types of thought control.

The BITE model lays out four types of control. There’s Behavior Control, which controls what members do and how they spend their free time. (For example, requiring members to attend multiple hours-long meetings each week.) There’s Information Control, which restricts members’ access to information. (For example, denying certain aspects of the group’s history.) There’s Thought Control, which shapes the way members think. (For example, classifying certain thoughts as sinful or dirty.) And finally there’s Emotional Control, which manipulates members’ emotions. (For example, instilling fear of damnation or punishment.)

Here’s a simple exercise to get you started with your deprogramming. Divide a blank sheet of paper into four equal sections. Label one section “Behavior,” one “Information,” one “Thought,” and one “Emotions.” Now, in each section, make a list of the ways your old religious group controlled — and maybe still controls — that area of your life. Once you’ve completed your lists, choose a single item from one of your lists to work on undoing.

For example, let’s say that in your “Information” column, you’ve written that you were discouraged from reading certain books because they contained “evil” ideas. (For a lot of people, this was Harry Potter. For me, it was The Golden Compass.) Pick up one of those books, and read it or listen to it as an audiobook. Once you’ve read it, write down your thoughts. Did you enjoy it? Why or why not? Why do you think your group banned it? What was in this book that they didn’t want you to know about? Write it down.

Once you’ve worked on the first thing, choose something else. Keep going until you’ve undone all the items on your lists.

If you want to go further with deprogramming, I recommend the book Recovering Agency by Luna Lindsey. Although this book is specifically written for former Mormons, I genuinely believe it would be helpful to former members of other controlling religious groups as well. Lindsey does an excellent job of explaining how thought control works and of connecting it to real world examples, as well as deconstructing those ideas. Her book has been a huge help in my recovery process, and I highly recommend it.

Step Four: Replace toxic beliefs and practices with healthy ones

This goes hand-in-hand with step three, and if you’re already working on deprogramming then you’ll already have started replacing your unhealthy beliefs. This is the turning point in the recovery process. You’re no longer just undoing what others have done to you — now you get an opportunity to decide what you want to believe and do going forward. This is the time to let go of things like denial of your desires, fear of divine punishment, and holding yourself to unattainable standards. Get used to living in a way that makes you happy, without guilt.

Notice how each step builds on the previous steps. Therapy and deprogramming can help you identify what beliefs and behaviors need to be adjusted or replaced. Your therapist, support group, and/or emotional support person can help you make these changes and follow through on them.

These new beliefs and practices don’t have to be religious — in fact, it’s better if they aren’t. If you can live a healthy, happy, balanced life without religion, you’ll be in a better position to choose a religion that is the right fit for you, if that is something you want.

Your new healthy, non-religious practices may include: mindfulness meditation, nature walks, journaling, reading, exercise, energy work, learning a hobby or craft, or spending time with loves ones — or it might include none of these things, and that’s okay too. Now is the time to find what brings you joy and start doing it every day.

Step Five: Ritual healing

This is an optional step, but it’s one that has been deeply healing for me. You may find it helpful to design and perform a ritual to mark your recovery.

Note that when I say “ritual,” I don’t necessarily mean magic. Rituals serve a psychological purpose as well as a spiritual one. They can act as powerful symbolic events that mark a turning point in our lives or reinforce what we already know and believe. Even if you don’t believe in magic, even if you’re the least spiritual person you know, you can still benefit from ritual.

You might choose to perform a ritual to finalize your healing, or to symbolically throw off the chains of your old religion. It can be elaborate or simple, long or short, joyful or solemn. It might include lighting a candle and saying a few words. It might include ecstatic dance. It might include drawing or painting a representation of all the negative emotions associated with your old religion, then ritually destroying it. The possibilities are literally endless. (If you’re looking for ritual ideas, I recommend the book Light Magic for Dark Times by Lisa Marie Basile.)

One type of ritual that some people find very empowering is unbaptism. An unbaptism is exactly what it sounds like — the opposite of a baptism. The idea is that, if a baptism makes a Christian, an unbaptism makes someone un-Christian, no longer part of that lineage. It is a ritual rejection of Christianity. (Obviously, this only applies if you’re a former Christian, though some of the following suggestions could be adjusted to fit a rejection of other religions.)

If you’re interested in unbaptism, here are some ideas for how it could be done:

A classic method of unbaptism is to recite the Lord’s Prayer backwards under a full moon. (For a non-Christians version, use a significant prayer from whatever religion you have left.)

Run a bath. Add a tiny pinch of sulfur (a.k.a. brimstone) to the water. Get into the bath and say, “By water I was baptized, and by water my baptism is rejected.” Submerge your entire body under the water for several seconds. When you come back up, your unbaptism is complete. (You may want to shower after this one. Sulfur does not smell good.)

The Detroit Satanic Temple has a delightfully dramatic unbaptism ritual. For a DIY version, you will need holy water or some other relic from the faith you were baptized in, a fireproof dish, a black candle, and an apple or other sweet fruit. Light the candle and place it in your fireproof dish. Toss some holy water onto the flame (not enough to extinguish it) and say, “I cast my chains into the dust of hell.” Take a bite of the apple and say, “I savor the fruit of knowledge and disobedience.” Finally, declare proudly, “I am unbaptized.” You can add “in the name of Satan” at the end or leave it out, depending on your comfort level.

Personally, I’ve never felt the need to unbaptize myself. I’ve ritually rejected my Mormon upbringing in other ways. Maybe someday I’ll decide to go for the unbaptism, but I’ve never really felt like I needed it. Likewise, you’ll need to decide for yourself what ritual(s) will work for you.

Step Six: Honor your recovery

Our first reaction to trauma is to hide it away and never speak of it again. When we do this, we do ourselves a disservice. Your recovery is a part of your life story. You had the strength to walk away from a situation that was hurting you, and that deserves to be celebrated! Be proud of yourself for how far you’ve come!

You may choose to honor your recovery by celebrating an important date every year, like the day you decided to leave the group, the date of the last meeting you attended, or the date you were removed from the membership records. Keep this celebration fun and light — get drinks with friends, bake a cake for yourself, or just take a few moments to silently acknowledge your journey.

If you feel like having a party is a bit much, you can also honor your recovery by talking to other people about your experiences. Share your story with others. If you’re feeling shy, try sharing your story anonymously online. (Reddit has several forums specifically for anonymous stories.) You’ll be amazed by how validating it can be to tell people what you’ve been through. `

Another way to honor your recovery is to work for personal and religious freedom for all people. Protest laws with religious motivations. Donate to organizations that campaign for the separation of church and state. Educate people about how to recognize an unhealthy religious organization. Let your own story motivate you to help others who are in similar situations.

And most of all, take joy in your journey. Be proud of yourself for how far you’ve come, but know that your recovery is a lifelong journey. Be gentle and understanding with yourself. You are doing what is right for you, and no god or spirit worthy of worship could ever be upset by that.

[orangepurin45]

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐫!! - 𝐂𝐨𝐩! 𝐈𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐗 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐏.𝐭 1

WARNING: Guns, some Yanderish themes (Oikawa is protective of Bara-arms), Blood, Drug dealing delivery, 🔞triggering sexual content 🔞, Angst, Fluff?, Slight!IwaOi, Mentions of past humiliation & trauma (high-school bullying)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

This is my first time writing btw. Happy Reading! if not the exit is over there 👉🚪.

Papers sprawled all over the desk, strings attached each other to another. A loud sip from the bulky man and a paper flip to side then eyes rose up to the photo of you grinning like a mischievous fox with red lips and taunting eyes screaming "CATCH ME IF YOU DARE," vibe Hajime grit his teeth glaring at your dirty face.

L/n Y/n, also know as the dark phoenix, Japan's most notorious drug dealing, homicide, and man-woman torturer and murderer in the whole country.

Everyone fears you.

Everyone obey at you.

Everyone believes you are the end.

Everything they think, you were responsible of all of this.

"Iwa-chan! Chief wants you to-..." Tooru spokes but was stopped by the sound of Iwaizumi's chair screech. He stood up, shadow loom under his gaze as he walks out the door.

"Wait! Iwa-chan I was supposed to...!

SLAM!

Inform you, " he finished, his lips turned downwards at the cold room, his chocolate eyes scanned every detail of the room then stopped to your portrait of your scary taunting face.

"Thanks a lot, Y/n-chan... But I didn't know you were into kind of... mess, " he smiles sadly, tracing his fingers at your photo. Lips tighten softly at the flashback, of yourself and the other 3rd years. How ironic to see your sweet, sweet smile in the memories compare to your now scary one.

"But I'm not letting you hurt Iwa-chan...That's a promise!,"

He points at your portait, eyes of determination and protection to swearing to blood to bone of himself not want his childhood friend be hurt. He turned away as long he lives

He will never let Hajime's life on the line.

Blood splatter, and small packet of white powder in the sachet all over the floor. Blowing your gun, hot steam coming out of the hole. Soft red lips upturned wickedly, your loyal subordinates gathers the small plastic packets inside the black bag.

"Bring it on the trunk immediately," You grinned as they nodded, immediately running towards your car.

Although, all happiness and rainbows has to ended when your car exploded and a familiar gunfire break a loose killing at off your men in sight.

"Oh dear... here we go again," You giggled then smirked, eyes delighted to see the man, who is obsessed of you being arrested.

How cute! 💕

"DARK PHOENIX!!!," Hajime yelled, eyes filled with fury and justice glaring at your calm figure. His teeth angrily clench pointing his gun at you.

"What a pleasant surprise!... I never thought you were such a party pooper, Iwaizumi-san! I'm absolutely...hurt," you pouted furrowing your brows playfully at him, to which he just flinch remembering a memory, looking down at the thought.

But you took this opportunity to snatched the gun off of his Iron grip by sitting on his shoulder then do some acrobatics before jumping off his broad shoulders then before jumping back then throw him on the ground with a headlock.

"You know it was all good~ back in the day! My mom always taught me to take care of what mess it was...And that was me she was talking about, "

He grunt, trying to wiggling his way out of your grasped but no avail the tightness is stronger than he expected.  You giggled when you heard him yelped.

“Let ME go this is instant! I’m gonna make sure you’re gonna rot in prison!,”

He shouted, throwing his saliva right at your face at each sentence he threat for you. But you only grinned, eyes in mischief and raising a brow at him.

“Oh please~ Cry me a river! Your the cop here aren’t you gonna do it but instead you’re just laying under me...shame on you Iwaizumi-san,” 

Silence  ... You saw how he looks down and saw sorrow at his face, seemingly remembers something, you hummed a growing smile on your soft lips.                 

“Ne, Iwazumi-san Do you remember the day Oikawa-san humiliate me?,”  

He snaps out his trace, then looks at you eyes as larger as the china wares.

“You didn’t help me back then, instead you let him do what he did to me,”

Rains started to pour, as the steaming car slowly deflates it’s flame little by little by an hours. Hajime’s heart dropped at the statement.

Yes, It’s true he did only watched.

 He just...didn’t know

He didn’t know what to do If he did help you back then.

Because of a certains rumors that you seduce your father, your uncle, other male students in any campus. That’s what Oikawa made up, He thought realising it.

You rejected Tooru because you view him as a brother only and nothing more.

“Isn’t because of Oikawa...was it?,”

“All of that wasn’t true SHUT UP!!,”

Unrealising you let him go and back yourself away from him, giving Hajime to sit up then slowly stood. He saw suprising seeing you hitting your head, slapping and punching your head. Snot and tears and all, pulling your hair out, heavily breathing then whimper and cries. Hajime was about to approach you giving the comfort you deserve, you  deserve long time ago that he was going to give if he helped you.

But being a fucked out mentally ill you are, Throwing your head back flash of lightning. Red eyes and nose all bloodshot. Wet Hair stuck on your face.

“FUCK THEM ALL FOR BEING NAIVE ASS BITCH THEY KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME!!,”

“Y/n I-,”

All of the sudden a hooded man engulf you in an embrace then took  you, jumping in each delivering cubes. But before he left, he shot Iwaizumi by the calf making him grunt then kneel down to hold where the shot is.

“IWA-CHAN!,”

Oikawa runs afront of him, and by anger he tried firing his bullet back at the hooded man but failed when he fired back to disarm him then fled at the scene.

“That bitch had company I see... Iwa-chan are you alright,”

After the rage diminished into concern laced tone, he pulled Iwaizumi up throwing his arm over his shoulder. Gazing in greater concern at him.

Or Love, so to speak.

“Everything will be all right, Iwa-chan I already called back-up,”

Hajime grunt, he unlatch himself off Oikawa suprise at the action he give, he stumbled and winced but he then glared at Oikawa.

His heart ache’d at the facial expression, shattering to him into pieces.

“Get off me I can take care of myself, I’m not some type of baby being taken care of,” He explains, he took a second to look where you feld and the hooded man went, A breath escape his lips and just stumble ahead.

when the back-up came, they help him guide back inside the ambulance.

“I told you I can take care of myself! Lay off!!,”

“Japan needed you Iwaizumi-san...So you’ll be needing our guidance for now,” The medic discipline and explains The Cop as he guided Hajime at the back of the ambulance.

He click his tongue before the paramedics lift him up in ease onto the ambulance.

Oikawa on the other hand, chocolate-colored eyes darkens at the moment of Hajime's pained expression when he taken the bullet that strike his calf.

And the sorrowfulness of his face when he was about to hug you.

His staring directly at your self-hate state as if he was that main guy at a certain love story, but a fucked up one.

He wanted to comfort you so badly that he might forget you'll stab him by the back. He grit his teeth, his knuckles turning white at point of view of your being.

But first he had to make sure you will be torture to hell where you belong.

"Oikawa-senpai! Is everything is going to be alright?"

A turnip head guy pops out, eye'ing in concern at the ambulance where Iwaizumi resides in, left the scene. Tooru took a deep breath, as he face his youngest colleague with that well-covered smile.

"It's alright! There's no need to worry! Cause' He will have the greatest care in the hospital... For awhile I think"

"Oikawa-senpai... Your palms are bleeding"

Kunimi pointed out, staring boredly at the fresh wound that have his blood run down his fingers to his knuckles.

He hadn't realise in mad anger, he clawed his palm so bad at the thought of you gonna ruining Iwaizumi's life.

"Ahhh! My hand slipped in the strawberry jam! My bad hehe"

(；^ 3^）✌️even though it was rather darker than the sweet jam itself, Kunimi could tell it was a lie. He could tell the deep nail marks on his palm and blood mixing under his nails too.

"Uh... Okay I guess..." He pretend to buy it, much of Oikawa's satisfaction.

"Okay back to work! We need to investigate this piece of shit of a burning car!" He grin happily as he skipped towards the steaming car, not caring about the rain pouring down.

Hope you rot in hell Y/n dearest or else one touch on Iwa-chan and you are gone he thought with a deep frown thinking about you makes Oikawa sick upon his stomach but hopefully that one day, you'll be captured and rot in jail.

Or maybe suffer in death sentence because of the multiple crimes you make.

Hope you suffer He thought with sadistic grin.

-End P. T 1-

That was not I expected, but judge all you want all because of the grammar I've been working is still under- construction and I've been using writing stuff like this because of a certain mental stability I've got... Not all that set aside. Thank y'all for reading don't forget to leave a heart or not because due to my ungrateful grammar that make you sick... I'm sorry about that and I apologies for being born... Is all

-orangepurin45

[whisperlullaby]

Just Say It And I’m Yours- Ch.5

Summary: Steve is away on a mission and Connor asks you out again and this time you don’t have a reason to say no.

Words: 1766

Warnings: None? Pining, Steve being dumb...just buckle up he’s gonna be dumb for a while. Allusions to toxic family life. (if I missed anything let me know)

A/N: Super special thanks to @river-soul for being the best beta! Thanks to @dreamslikeaheartbeat for the phenomenal banner. If I missed any warnings let me know and please if you’re a minor DNI. 

Tag: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @bestofbucky @loveyou5everr @purselover2 @sweeterthanthis​ @freyagreyson​ @saiyanprincessswanie if you want to be on my taglist send me a DM. If you want to be taken off my taglist also send me a DM.

The weekend went by in a blur. You were heartbroken when Steve told you the almost kiss meant nothing, could mean nothing. You dreamt for months about the feel of his lips on yours and now you would never know what it would be like to kiss him. Steve didn’t want anything more than a friendship with you and after drinking your sorrows away for a weekend you reaffirmed your resolve to be his friend. He was trying to find himself, just like you, and it wouldn’t be fair to ask for more than he was willing to give. After spending all of your free time with Steve, he became your person, and when it boiled down to it you would rather have this version of Steve in your life than try to force something more and lose him altogether. 

You knew the toxicity of being forced to do something you didn’t want to do just to make someone else happy. Not just from working in your chosen field, but from your family life. You lived your whole life to please your family only to realize one day that it wasn’t what you wanted at all. When you told them you had a different path you wanted to take they cut you off and cast you aside. It was the best thing to ever happen to you because it let you have the freedom you needed to learn more about yourself and figure out who you wanted to be. 

That experience left you feeling self-conscious and compliant, ever the people pleaser with poor boundaries. You were determined to move past those feelings even though it was going to be a long road, you owed it to yourself. Being forced to move to a new city was a blessing as it allowed you to grow into a person you felt more proud of. You met Steve a week later and between feeling confident for the first time in years, and Steve looking at you like you hung the stars, you were beginning to feel like you finally found where you belonged. When he told you that you could just pretend the kiss didn’t happen you swore you heard your heart shatter. But you found yourself once before, you could do it again. It’s not like you lost Steve completely, he just needed a friend more than he needed a partner. 

So, you steeled yourself against the heartache. Steve needed to get back to his Captain America duties and you needed that distance to figure yourself out again. He had told you that he was going to be gone for at least a week doing recon work, which meant for the first time since you met him you wouldn’t have Friday movie night.

It turned out to be fortuitous that he was gone because your caseload doubled for the week. By Friday you were up to your elbows in paperwork when Connor walked into your office.

“Hey there, darling. You look busy.”

You looked up and narrowed your eyes. “Yeah, it’s what people who are invested in the wellbeing of others look like. Busy.”

Connor snickered. “Well, I just wanted to know if you wanted to get dinner tonight. No shop talk required.”

You froze. You were expecting it, of course, Connor asked you out every week. This time was a bit different though since you knew Steve didn’t feel the same way you felt about him. Truth be told, part of the reason you always turned Connor down was on the off chance Steve would ask you out. You deserved a chance to be with someone who wanted to be with you too. You were hesitant but you needed to start getting over your crush on Captain America.

“Sure Connor,” you sighed. “Why not? Give me 20 minutes and I’ll meet you outside.”

Connor perked up. “Yeah, whatever you need. It’s not a no this time?”

“It’s not a no this time. I just have a few things I need to finish up,” you tapped the pile of paperwork.

“No problem, I’ll bring my car around.” Connor practically skipped out of your office.

When you heard the door click shut you pulled your phone out and sent Steve a text.

“Hey, I know you’re busy but could you and Bucky come over tomorrow night when you get back? It’s been a long week.”

You flipped your phone over not expecting a response when your phone chirped.

“Of course, doll. I’ll let you know when we land and we’ll come over.”

You let out a cleansing breath. If you were going to tell Steve about your date, you were going to need a Bucky buffer. 

////////////

It was around 8:00 pm when Steve and Bucky got to your apartment. You didn’t miss the way you felt relief wash over you when you saw Steve standing outside your door. After they hung up their coats they each pulled you in for a hug. Bucky’s was quick and he placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. Steve squeezed you tight, almost as if he was afraid to let go, swaying as he stood there. You melted into his embrace for a moment before pulling away.

“I’m sorry for missing movie night, sweetheart. I hope it doesn’t happen again,” Steve lamented.

“I hope it doesn’t either.” You nodded, moving into the kitchen. “Thirsty?”

“Sure I’ll take a beer if you have one.” Steve plopped down on your couch.

“Same here sparky.” Bucky sat in the recliner putting his feet on your coffee table.

You gave him a quizzical look. “Sparky?”

Bucky looked at Steve then back at you. “Yeah, ‘cause you’re like a firecracker, so, Sparky.”

You let out a bubbly laugh. “Alright, tinman, whatever you say.”

Bucky pouted as you handed him his beer and kicked his feet off your coffee table. You handed Steve his and watched him drain half the bottle as you sat down.

“You better use a goddamned coaster or I swear to god you’re buying me a new coffee table.” You threw a coaster at Steve’s face just before his glass hit the table. 

 He laughed as he caught the coaster and placed it on the table under his glass.

“So, what’s new? I have to admit I got a bit nervous when you asked us to come over when we got back.” Steve raised his eyebrow staring you down. 

You began to fidget. Your eyes shifted between Steve and Bucky trying to figure out the easiest way to tell them about your date last night. You caught Steve’s eyes as they filled with concern. He knew you better than anyone so you knew that fidgeting was a dead give away that something wasn’t quite right.

“Doll, is everything okay?” Steve reached out and touched your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you rushed out. “I just, um, Connor asked me on a date. Since you were on a mission, I said yes. We went out last night.”

You looked up at Steve searching his eyes for anything to give him away. His hand fell from your shoulder and you heard Bucky choke a little on his beer. Steve’s eyes snapped towards his friend as he leaned down to pick up his own drink. You had hoped Bucky’s presence would make the news a bit more casual so you wouldn’t feel the heaviness fill your chest like lead as you waited for Steve’s reaction.

“Oh, Connor? Isn’t that the guy that irons his jeans?” Steve joked. Only it wasn’t really a joke, Connor really liked ironing.

“I mean yeah, but that seems like a livable concession.” You rolled your eyes. “Besides it’s not like I have any other suitors.” You cocked your head thoughtfully playing with the rim of your glass. 

“How did it go?” Steve was staring at his hands. If there was anything you were an expert at, it was reading Steve Rogers like a damned book and he was avoiding your eye contact for a reason. 

“It actually went really great. He took me to that French place across town, you know the one that looks way too pretentious to eat at. We have a lot more in common than I thought.” You bit your lip before you continued. “I wanted to know if my dating him would bother you. It would definitely limit my free time and I know how much you love my company. Though I think Bucky’s starting to feel left out.” 

You chuckled when you heard Bucky scoff and turned your head to stick your tongue out at him.

Turning back to Steve you tried to catch his eye. “I just want to know if there is absolutely any reason my dating Connor would make you uncomfortable.”

Steve considered your question for a minute. He had no reason to tell you who you could and could not date, especially after he told you he would rather be friends. You had almost hoped that he would admit to the sparks clearly happening between the two of you. You were taking measured breaths waiting for him to say something. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky staring Steve down as if he was trying to have a silent conversation. Steve took another sip of his beer before turning to you.

“I think you deserve to be happy. If Connor can do that for you then I am happy for you,” Steve said, pursing his lips.

You felt tears spring to your eyes and willed them back.

“Great, cool, okay.” You gathered the empty bottles and ran into the kitchen. “I’ll get us some refills.”

That was it. You knew you weren’t going to be able to convince Steve to fight for you, and you owed it to yourself to give Connor a shot. As you grabbed new beers out of the fridge you reminisced about the times when you and Steve would stay up late sharing your favorite songs, how when you saw a kid lose his balloon Steve bought the vendor out just to cheer them up, and how he knew exactly how you took your coffee after the second coffee run you made together. 

You hoped Connor would be able to give you some of those happy memories, but there was a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you something wasn’t right. You pushed that feeling down a little bit further, refusing to listen to it. It was probably just the part of you still hung up on Steve and nothing a little time wouldn’t fix.

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Three

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 3 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction. 

Warnings in this chapter: sexual harassment (slight); talk of sexism/misogyny/canon violence; mentions of drug use; mentions of depression

Word Count: 8,900+

~

The Compound, 2023, 3:16pm

     It probably would have been better to grieve as a group, to help each other in understanding what just happened, to lean on each other. But the second you saw Clint fall to his knees without Natasha beside him, soul stone in hand and face miserable, like he saw a wandering ghost in need of help, you started to walk backwards off the platform. 

You stumbled and teetered before finding balance against the railing. No one seemed to notice you, all wrapped in their own suffocating grief, and you abandoned the group to run across the grounds of the compound. It wasn’t until you ended up by the lake that you realized you were crying, tears flowing but face tough and angry, chest heaving as you came to a stop. You just stared at the ground, shaking hands still gloved and teammates still back at the compound and - oh, god Clint, oh god, oh god, oh god. 

Chest still tight and finding it harder to breathe, you shut your eyes and leaned against the nearest tree. Several minutes flew by, the only sounds that of your suit’s fabric stretching and retracting as your breathing grew slower. And the grief that enveloped you almost instantly turned into fury, and it hurt, it hurt, but you were just so damn angry that you found yourself wishing it was you. Natasha didn’t deserve this, and neither you, but you would give anything to just believe for a second that this couldn’t be real.

But you all knew the risks. This was inevitable. And you were so angry. 

Voices startled you from your thoughts and you watched your teammates pace toward the dock, ideas bouncing from one head to another as they strategized ways to reverse this. But Clint quickly shut them up, telling them that no matter what they did, a sacrifice was a sacrifice and that was the end of it. 

“It was supposed to be me.”

And finally someone said it, because it should have been anyone but Natasha, and that thought caused bile to burn your throat and why in the world could you not control your breathing?

You ran from your spot, legs carrying you to the gardens and burning as you increased speed. You collapsed near the lake, shredding your suit until you were left in the comfortable t-shirt and leggings underneath, sounds of the garden ringing in your ears. 

The time of day could be told by the purple and orange streaks painting the sky, evening dew on the plants near your feet and the sound of a cricket’s chirp cutting through the silence. You counted the hours this way, focusing on the colors and sounds of the outside world that for some reason, didn’t feel like your own anymore. Guilt latched onto your core as you found yourself falling into the therapeutic senses of it all, eyes closing and a silent plea of ‘I’m so sorry, Nat’ escaping your lips. The tears you had shed hours ago were now dry, creating a minor strain of your skin, noticeable as you moved your face. 

Legs dangling from the dock and eyes simply watching the sky change shades, you barely heard the soft footsteps behind you. And you smiled, surprised that it took your teammates this long to recognize your absence.

Thor grumbled below his breath as he sat beside you, his feet barely touching the water. You swung your legs together, impossibly empty yet consumed minds working behind such sad eyes. 

“You want to jump in and freeze? It’s autumn, it’s cold, we’ll probably die from hypothermia.”

Your body lunged forward lightly as a tiny laugh left your throat, a small smile twitching on the corner of your lips. “Yeah, I’m down.”

Thor grinned at your equally dark response, reaching over and gripping your hand in his. He rubbed small circles into your knuckles and resumed watching the clouds shift. 

You looked down at your conjoined hands, wondering why he came after you in the first place. Still, you squeezed his hand back and relaxed in the feeling. 

“Doesn’t seem worth it anymore.”

Thor turned his head, “She traded her soul for trillions of others who had no choice.”

You mumbled, “Still isn’t fair.”

Thor scooted closer to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, grinning when you accepted the invitation to lean into him. 

“None of this fair. We have one more fight, Y/N.”

You sighed, ready to complain and run back to the compound to lay under a mountain of blankets, wallowing in self-pity and increasing depression. 

“Look at me,” Thor instructed, gently pulling away from you. “I know what you’re feeling. I too want to sleep and never wake up.”

Your face dropped, sympathy flooding your eyes. You raised a hand to lay your palm on his cheek, wiping away the stray tear he had let slip. “You don’t have to be so strong.”

Thor leaned into the feeling of your warm hand and he gave you a sad smirk. “I know. But it’s all we know how to be.”

Thor could sense your depleting energy, and as much as he wanted to carry you to your bed and wrap a blanket around you, cup of tea ready and some comedy movie on repeat, he had to persuade you. There was one more fight that needed to be fought.  

“Breathe, and think of the first thing that brings you comfort. Lean into that, let it give you strength, and use it.”

You turned to him, prepared to protest, but Thor simply gripped your face in his hands, allowing you to do the same. He rested his forehead against yours. “Think and use it.”

You nodded, still apprehensive to the idea, but you shut your eyes and thought. New and old friends. It could have been anything - Natasha’s final and unknown farewell, Wanda’s loud laugh as she fought Sam (who was on Steve’s shoulders and her on Bucky’s) and tried pushing him into the water, or even Tony’s face as he realized he forgot to put the lid over the blender before turning it on - anything, but you held onto the first flash of joy your mind recalled. 

The sudden image of Steve’s face frightened you. Not because Steve himself was scary, but because the more you thought of him, the more prepared you were for the final battle. You had something to fight for. Someone. You simply saw Steve - Steve who tucked his knees up to his chest when he sketched the trees outside his bedroom window - and how he would put his pencil down and march toward you because ‘don’t you ever knock?’, and push you out of his room as you laughed and apologized at the same time.

“Use it,” Thor repeated. You opened your eyes. 

So you wiped your tears and changed back into your suit, hair now held in a ponytail and new gun on your hip. Your breath hitched as Bruce lifted the gauntlet to put it on, his eyes swimming with fear but also determination, and you found yourself glancing at Steve. He felt eyes on him, and he found yours, and something alerted you of the shift. Perhaps this was his last straw, it was yours too, but this was different. You wanted to go back to Thor and ask him to help you find that memory again, ‘tell me to imagine Steve again, Steve with his soft face and gentle hands, Steve who doesn’t look like he’s just seen a ghost!’. A perfect stranger, and before you could ponder such a drastic change, Bruce began screaming in agony. You stood behind Tony, allowing Bruce’s screams to fuel your energy, because you had one more fight. 

Just one more. 

A Forest in Iowa, 2025, 6:47am

     You awoke with a strangled groan, a crick in the neck that needed to be remedied by a quick snap to the opposite side and a very numb ass. You dreaded having to remove your arms from the warmth the blanket provided, but the quicker you turned the car on you could relax. You leaned over and did so, the tingles along your lower back and bottom begging you to get out of the car. Steve was startled awake from the sudden rumble of the engine, alert within seconds and examining his surroundings. 

You practically crawled out the car and stretched every muscle, even muscles you didn’t know could become inflamed, and started walking around the campsite while rubbing your palms on your sore ass. Steve joined you outside after a few minutes, laughing at the random stretches you were performing. 

“Laugh all you want, Rogers but if I don’t get this knot out my ass then any danger we encounter you’re taking out alone.”

“Do you need help?”

You snapped your body back up, an involuntary loud cackle rising from your throat. “That would be a treat.”

Steve rolled his eyes and began stretching himself, arms bent and raised behind his head as he tugged on his elbows. “I just meant in general. Not specifically your ass.”

You giggled at his innocence, walking back to the car and grabbing the blanket you had regretfully crawled from. You wrapped it around your shoulders and made your way back to Steve, extending your right leg out and dipping your upper body down to continue the stretch. You heard the sudden ‘pop!’ of your hip, surprising both you and Steve. You screamed in slight but joyful surprise, pulling yourself back up to look at Steve. He just stared back, amazement and a little concern in his face. He scrunched his nose and smiled wide. 

“That hurt?”

You shook your head ‘no’ and extended your left leg now, bending down and stretching the same way. Again, ‘pop!’

And Steve had to walk away in complete astonishment, hands covering his ears and a comical expression on his face, because it just sounded so weird. 

You stopped at the first secluded diner you stumbled upon, barely open for the morning and understaffed. There was a lonely waitress behind the counter folding napkins and cleaning the leftover coffee grounds someone forgot to clean before her. She looked about thirty, slightly dark circles under her eyes, but presented a cheerful smile as you and Steve walked through the door. If she was surprised with two Avengers walking into her place of work, she did an excellent job at hiding it. 

“What can I get you two?”

You took a seat on the light blue swivel chair at the counter and flashed the waitress a kind smile as you spoke. Her name tag read ‘Martha’. “Coffee and tea to start with, please.”

She clicked the coffee maker on and went to retrieve a kettle from the back, leaving you and Steve alone. 

“You hungry?” you asked. 

Steve plopped down in the chair beside you, already grabbing the two sugar packets he would put into his tea. “Starved.”

You rolled your eyes, “You were the one who refused the last granola bar.”

“You said you were hungry.”

“Aw, you starved yourself for me?”

Steve huffed in annoyance, playing with his sugar packets and head hung low to avoid recognition from incoming customers. You stared at him longer than usual, studying the way his jaw ticked every so often and how he would sniff at nothing only to pass the time and countless thoughts. You reached over and grabbed a handful of sugar packets, piling them in between you and the super soldier, and began constructing the base of a tower. It seemed to snap Steve out of whatever thought he had, and he quickly became interested. He helped steady the base, careful fingers adding to the height. You two worked in silent cooperation, little giggles filling the empty and quiet diner. 

Martha returned with two mugs and went to grab both the freshly made coffee and tea. She watched as you and Steve constructed your sugar packet tower, a smirk on her face as she poured your drinks. “Anything to eat?”

And it was one of the best meals you had. The sheer amount of grease on those sausages and hash browns warmed your once empty stomach and meshed with the coffee in the most delightful way. You almost wanted to ask for seconds, those scrambled eggs not nearly enough, but the longer you stalled the longer the ride on the freeway was going to be. 

You paid and left a generous tip, finishing the remaining amount of coffee in your mug. Steve had gone to the restroom, your sugar packet tower still standing tall and proud. It didn’t seem like Martha was going to knock it down any time soon. The bell over the front door dinged with a new arrival, the cold air from outside making you clutch your hot mug tighter. 

You glanced over your shoulder out of instinct. The man looked to be in his mid-forties, a trucker no doubt, and had only the slightest hint of an unwashed smell. He took a place at the counter a few seats away from you, throwing his hat down and begging Martha to bring him a coffee of his own. You took a sip from your mug.

“Woah, you’re an Avenger, aren’t you?”

Busted. 

“Nope.”

The man scooted a few seats closer, eyes now wide awake. He pointed at you in an almost accusatory manner, but voice still cheery. “No, seriously - I’ve seen your face in the news and everything!”

You set your coffee down and saw the look of pity Martha was throwing you from across the counter. “You want a picture or something?”

The man laughed now, a nasty smirk on his face. “Or something would be nice.”

Your face scrunched and your shoulders immediately tensed. “You better not be implying-?”

“Woah, hey, no harm here! I just mean, you’re here alone and I’m here alone…”

You looked away from him, taking a big swig from your mug. The burn down your throat was somewhat therapeutic. “I’ll do the picture or else I start screaming.”

“I’d love to hear that.”

Steve rounded the corner when he heard a full-on conversation he was sure just started during his absence. He almost cursed himself for leaving you alone during such an important mission, even if it was to urinate. He could have had you standing outside the men’s restroom just to feel more secure of your well-being. Still, he remained behind the wall and listened to the conversation. If Steve was to interrupt before you could get your own kicks in, then he wouldn’t hear the end of it. 

‘I had him on the ropes!’

‘Excuse me for assisting a teammate!’

‘Get bent!’

Yeah, Steve would let you kick this person’s ass and brag about it instead of yapping at him.  

You groaned, hoping the loud sound would make the man retreat back to his breakfast. “Bet you would.”

But it seemed to encourage him more, and he stepped closer to lean on the counter and bump your shoulder with his. You kept your eyes trained on your abandoned coffee. 

“C’mon, I’m just a lonely trucker trying to make ends meet. I think I deserve some kind of reward.”

You put on your best fake smile, tilting your head towards him. You flashed your teeth, a great distraction for him as you reached into your pocket for your throwing knife. “That picture offer seems to be wearing very, very thin, dude.”

He placed his dirty hand on your shoulder, squeezing as he spoke in a low whisper. “Guess that’s for the best.”

His hand was immediately twisted from your shoulder, the sound of his instant wail frightening poor Martha. You knew what had happened, and as chill as ever, you swiveled the chair around casually. 

The man groaned in discomfort, “Woah, hey! - oh my god.”

Steve’s single hand was crushing his, digits begging for mercy as each second Steve squeezed even harder. He could feel the man’s knuckles start to crack painfully. “Yeah, ‘oh my god’. Touch her again and I’ll total your truck.”

The man shook his head violently, “We were just talking!”

“Nuh-uh,” you chuckled, elbows resting on the counter behind you. 

“C’mon Cap, you gotta believe me!” The man tried to sprinkle some humor on the situation, which only caused Steve to shove him into a booth, hand still gripping his. 

Steve towered over him now as the man had no choice but to fall back into the booth. “That’s just it - I don’t.”

The man looked from Steve’s face, to yours, to his own purpling and bruising hand. “What are you two doing out in the middle of nowhere anyway? Danger nearby?”

You stood from your seat and stood beside Steve, arms crossed and a smirk on your face. “Look, bud - tell anyone you saw us and you’ll regret it.”

And like the idiot he was, even with Steve’s hand cramping down on him, he still countered. “Are you threatening me?”

Steve couldn’t believe this guy. Of course, he could squeeze harder and just yank this guy’s fingers clean off, but he wasn’t that evil. The guy was just a creep and a pervert, which in Steve’s moral compass, called for a few cuts and scrapes and not a permanent disability. 

“Yup, and I tend to have some creative ways of framing people.”

     “C’mon, I know you can hit harder than that!” 

Steve threw a few more punches at the cushion Bucky was holding up, boxing gloves nearly sliding from his fists because of their large size. 

“One more, there we go!”

Bucky lowered the cushion as Steve threw his last punch, racing toward the bench to fetch Steve’s inhaler and hand it to the younger boy. 

“I could have gone longer.”

Bucky smiled at his best friend, “I’m sure you could have but you were about to pop a lung and I love you too much to see you go out that way, pal.”

Steve took a drag of his inhaler at the same time he tried to wrap his arm around Bucky’s neck. But the older boy was quicker and lunged out of the way, taking a celebratory light jog around the ring for such minimal effort on his part. Steve just glared at him, a small smirk forming as Bucky started chanting. 

“Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, defenders of America, the world, we avenge the fallen!”

Steve let Bucky exaggerate, inhaler finally working enough for him to take a big swig of water. “You really think we’ll save the world?”

Bucky held his chest and laughed loudly, “America isn’t going to war anytime soon, pal. Let’s focus on rescuing dames from bullies and perverts first!”

     “Captain, you gonna let her-?”

You snapped your fingers in his face to get his wandering eyes back on you, “I’m speaking to you.” 

Steve couldn’t hide his grin, a slight blush growing on his cheeks due to your authoritative tone. He had heard you speak this way countless times, roughing up some guy on the opposite side whenever they proved difficult. Although you weren’t currently throwing punches, Steve was proud nonetheless. 

You continued, “Tell anyone and I’ll tell the cops you tried selling us drugs.”

The man’s eyes widened comically, “What? I don’t even have-”

You reached into your back pocket and revealed a tiny baggy half-full of white powder. Martha’s tiny giggle reminded the man that he had an audience, a possible witness, but her overall lack of involvement was enough to know he was alone in this. “Come again? You were saying something?”

The man gritted his yellowing teeth, “No fucking way.”

You jiggled the baggy closer to his face, watching in amusement as he whipped his head to the side as if it was poison. “Way. I’ll stash it in your beloved truck where only the dogs can smell it.”

Steve, hands still gripping the man out of instinct, was completely shocked. He watched the baggy in the most peculiar way - analyzing its size, crumpled appearance, even the way the tiny specks of white dust latched onto the moisture inside, resembling salt or sugar. Obviously he knew what product you handled, but he had never seen it up close and personal unless he was in the evidence locker room. Maybe ‘shock’ wasn’t used with negative connotation, because Steve wanted to both laugh at your threat and snatch the baggy from you to ensure no other soul saw you handling it. 

The man looked from both you and Steve, determined expression falling as he ran out of viable options. He sighed in defeat, “Okay.”

You snatched the baggy away from his face and pocketed it. You smiled at him with such brightness, as if you hadn’t just threatened to ruin his life. “Cool, nice meeting you!”

Steve let him go and walked back to his original seat to pick up his coat. He ignored the annoying babbling from across the diner, choosing to grab your belongings too and smiling at Martha as he took his leave. You rushed after him, turning back to wave at Martha. 

“Best coffee ever, Martha!”

You settled into the car and continued your drive fairly easily, a comfortable silence between you two. Steve didn’t know if it was the jitters from the coffee - not like he was really affected by caffeine anyway - or the effects from the uncomfortable situation he should have pulled you from sooner, because next thing he knew his voice was an octave higher and cracking. “So, you just had that shit in your back pocket this whole time?”

You choked on your laugh and covered your mouth, looking up from your phone and at him. You shared the same playful look in your eyes. 

You shrugged, “You never know when you might need it.”

Steve shook his head but kept the same tiny grin, “Do you…?”

The playfulness somewhat subsided, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. The seatbelt was digging into your right breast and side of your neck. Steve waited for your response, the question an entirely personal one. He was about to retract it, apologize and focus on the freeway for the remainder of your trip, but you cleared your throat. 

“Once. But I was young, curious, and it burned like hell so I didn’t do it again.”

You were fourteen, still unsure of yourself and the world around you, clinging onto the inner child your environment was beginning to kill. You remember running through the mansion, the ranches, random hotels and random weddings - a dozen other children and teenagers running alongside you, each avoiding interaction with those their guardians had told them to avoid. And you remembered the day you wanted to enter your bedroom to retrieve your little iPod shuffle, the door resisting as you pushed. Your strength ultimately won, revealing a bedroom floor full of all types of guns, grenades, and automatic rifles. You didn’t scare easily, you never had, but that angered and annoyed you greatly. That was your room, your own sacred space to avoid confrontation, and it had been tainted. You had stepped over the guns carefully and reached your bedside table. Attaching your headphones to the device and clicking shuffle, you had almost missed the packages of drugs laying on your white bedsheet. Where you slept.

More out of anger than curiosity, you had carefully poked a hole in one of those taped packages and rubbed it over your teeth and gums like you saw some of your father’s men do. The sensation was weird, more numb than anything, and although you wanted it to taste like the flour you used for baking, it didn’t. So you picked a small portion under your pinky nail and sniffed. It burned, similar to when you burped and the carbonation came back up through your nose, and you wanted to scream. An instant headache, an unknown high, and a very angry Seda appeared around the same moment. 

“Why do you carry it now?” Steve asked. 

You snapped yourself out of the flashback, “My father knows we’re traveling by car. We’ll be arriving in the next day or so. He could call at any time and tell me he needs someone taken out in whatever state we’re currently passing through.”

Steve hummed, face showing discomfort. “Taken out? Do you often plant drugs on innocent people?”

You huffed, “Hardly innocent. Just drug dealers or other smugglers that got on his bad side.” 

You played with the button to roll down the window, watching the moisture from water droplets begin to dry and leave their smudge. You continued, “Quick drop into a glove compartment or someone’s pocket while they’re distracted usually does the trick.”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed, “Guess I can understand that.”

You left the window slightly open, the cold air nipping at your cheeks. The smell of rain was prominent. “I do my research before, you know. I don’t just frame random people.”

Your soft voice suddenly hurt Steve, almost like you were accusing him of thinking of you as evil. Whether you discussed your undercover work with him or not, he would never assume you escaped morals. You were an Avenger after all, and even though no one knew, Tony used to have a huge part in the decision-making process with Fury. And if Tony had seen something in you, then he trusted him. “I know.”

“Thank you, by the way. I may not look it, but he did scare me for a sec.”

Steve sighed, “We’re partners, Y/N. I would never let anything or anyone hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes at his sincerity, smiling toward him but avoiding his gaze. “Still… thanks.”

“No problem. Your playlist this time?”

You passed the next several hours listening to mostly instrumental music, the foggy and dense atmosphere of each state you drove through providing the same calm feeling. It was winter after all, and although California didn’t have quite as much snow as the midwest, it certainly had rain. The drive consisted of small talk about your surroundings, about your friends, about the most random things you could fill into a twelve hour time stamp. You played with the seat warmers, laughing when Steve jumped a foot in the air when his got a little too hot for his liking. And his cursing. When you first met Steve, he didn’t curse all that much unless it was in the middle of a fight or when he was truly angry. But now, especially after these last couple of years, his vocabulary expanded to new inappropriate lengths. You didn’t mind, no, it made the conversations all that more interesting. 

So when Steve grumbled under his breath as he spilled crumbs from his granola bar onto the passenger seat (you had volunteered driving the sixth hour in), and mumbled “jesus fucking christ”, you gave him such a bright smile with equally bright eyes that had Steve scrunching his eyebrows together and he leaned away from you, a blush crawling up his neck. 

‘What?’

‘You took the lord’s name in vain.’

‘Yeah, so what?’

‘Over a granola bar.’

‘... I see your point.’

You stopped about an hour away from the hotel, legs cramping and backs strained but overall happy that no one else on the journey recognized you two. There had been that kid who paused in the aisle of a small gas station, wide eyes staring up at both you and Steve as you reached for a bag of chips. Steve had crouched down to his height, chatting for a few seconds before giving him a small fist bump. You smiled at the kid, bringing your finger up to your mouth to mime a tiny ‘shh’, and followed Steve out the store after paying. 

You spent the next few minutes stretching, the sudden pops of your hips causing Steve to create as much of a fuss he had done before. 

‘Is that normal?’

‘It’s a ball and socket joint, they crack.’

‘So violently?’

‘It actually feels awesome.’

The California air was musty this season, humid and wet. The smell of various weeds and tree bark overpowered anything else, and although there was moisture in the air, the coldness dried your eyes. You found yourself blinking multiple times to accumulate some tears, and you reached into your backpack to reapply some lip gloss. You donned a simple, forest green tracksuit with a knitted sweater over it all, layers and layers to combat the cold breeze. Steve wore a similar knitted sweater, but he seemed less fazed by the cold than you were. 

“So, how much do you trust this person?”

You snapped your head up from your lazy resting and asked Steve to repeat his question. Once heard, you shrugged and answered. “About ninety-five percent.”

Steve chuckled and wrapped his arms over his chest, “Will it ever be a hundred? C’mon.”

You grinned back and took a deep breath, chilly air slightly burning your sinuses. “They took a bullet for me once. And they didn’t have to.”

You were meeting your main contact of the mission. Maribel, a childhood friend, a friend who ultimately took a bullet for you to keep your undercover identity a secret. You could have been compromised, forced to stand trial in front of your father and his men, but she took the fall. After going off the grid and living in Madripoor for about six years, she had contacted you after the snap. Her relief, and her eagerness for revenge, all were to your benefit. So you fed her any information you could, both vowing to fuck with your father in any means. And since you were the only person on the inside with ties to the Avengers, having Maribel be an insider with no ties ultimately helped prepare your case. Two sides, two people with shared experiences, all truth. And you were going to do everything in your power to clear her name and get her a good deal. 

“So, why isn’t it a hundred?”

“I haven’t trusted anyone a full one-hundred percent since SHIELD was compromised.”

Steve’s voice dropped a little, but you could still make out his teasing tone. “Do you trust me?”

“It wavers.”

“Wait-”

You interrupted and pointed toward the trail hidden by the trees, “There she is.”   

Maribel had changed immensely since you last saw her. Her natural ginger hair was now dyed a dark brown, her freckles seeming to have multiplied and draped themselves from her cheeks and down her neck, over her shoulders, etc. She wore all black, leather jacket and leather boots, loose strands of hair blocking the view of shoulder buttons and shoulder pockets. She looked younger, more refreshed in her natural glow, healthy even. You found yourself breathing a sigh of relief, chest tightening with genuine love as she flashed you a wide smile. You gave her a tight hug, patting her back and welcoming her back to the states. She smelled of the bushes she had to track through to get here. 

She released you from her tight grip and looked over at Steve, giving him an almost teasing look. “Heard you were invited. Nice to meet you Captain.”

Steve shook her hand, “Pleasure’s all mine.”

She chuckled and winked at him, “Y/N inform you about me? How do I sound? Look?”

Steve seemed to be affected the same way you had, an involuntarily reddening of his cheeks giving him away. “Like a possible ally.”

Maribel scoffed playfully, “I’ll take what I can get.”

“Status?” you asked.

Maribel handed you the file she carried, “Hotel is secure. Neighboring cities have no alerts about your arrival or of the upcoming celebration. Everything’s pretty quiet.”

You smirked, looking over to Steve in recognition of what that meant. “Of course it is. He wouldn’t dare kill any U.S citizens on American soil.”

“Heard he got sloppy,” Maribel sang, rocking back and forth on her heels. 

“Let’s hope it’s to our benefit. You meet up with the agent in charge I told you about?”

Maribel nodded, “Torres is set up a few miles from the venue. He’s been running surveillance for about three days already.”

“If you can’t get into contact with me, Torres is your second. Got it? He reports back to Sam.”

Maribel agreed, “Got it. So, what’s the plan for the rest of the week?”

“Steve and I will draft a report tomorrow morning and send you the encrypted file.”

“Can’t wait. It’s nice to see you again, Y/N,” she smiled, bringing you back into a tight hug. Steve simply stood to the side, listening around for any disturbances. 

“Likewise,” you spoke, sad to watch her walk away and back toward the hidden path. Her feet crunched on some fallen leaves purposefully. You suddenly remembered the bit of information that could be useful if Maribel were to encounter an old foe.

You called out to her, “Oh, and if anybody asks - Steve is my boyfriend and you’ve known about it for three years now!”

Steve hid his face behind his hand, looking down to his feet to avoid Maribel’s teasing and humorous expression. “Lucky you!”

     The hotel was nicer than you expected, the pictures on google doing little to showcase just how grand it really was. With some of your savings and a little money under the table from Fury, you were able to book a single bedroom with two beds for five nights. Obviously, the wedding night wasn’t counted as the two of you were going to have to haul ass immediately, but five nights in this grand arena seemed vacation enough.

From the outside, it seemed like any chain hotel, but the inside provided a more Gothic feel. It compared to a Vegas type, but also your typical breakfast inn. It was an odd combination, but you figured they had that liberty since it was a really quiet part of the city and didn’t see many regular customers.

You lugged your suitcases through the elevator doors and pressed the button for the seventh floor, looking around for the security cameras in the corner. You spotted the red light blinking and immediately smiled and waved. 

“Steve, say hi to Bucky.”

Steve looked at the camera and raised an eyebrow, giving a small wave. “You know regular security can see us, too?”

“Can’t hear us, though. Neither can Bucky.”

“So, if I were to call him a thousand bad words right now, he wouldn’t know?”

You squinted at Steve as the elevator dinged, “He can still read our lips.”

“That adds to the fun!”

The room was big enough to set up an extra pull-out table and computer in the corner, the only separate part being the bathroom to the side of the entrance door. The beds were both queen sized, multiple throw pillows scattered on top and two bedside tables in the middle. 

You rushed inside and threw your suitcase carelessly at the foot of the bed closest to the door, and ran to leap in the air and land face first on the cushy mattress. “Heaven!”

Steve picked up your suitcase and set it against the wall, “Glad to see you’re already making yourself at home.”

You rolled over and pressed some pillows to your chest, “You ever plopped yourself down onto a hotel bed? Do it!”

Steve tilted his head slightly, reluctant to the idea. “What if I break it?”

You burst out laughing, “Oh my god, I didn’t even think of that.”

Steve sighed, shoulders sagging as he gave in. “Promise you won’t laugh if I break it?”

“Do you know me?”

Steve rolled his eyes and braced himself against the wall, pushing himself off and leaping into the air only lightly, crashing onto the bed the same way you did. The bed creaked and made a horrible sound. But it held, the wood proving stronger than you thought. 

“Okay, I see the pleasure in that,” Steve laughed, face still smushed inside the mountain of pillows. You lay in your own beds for about an hour, naps wholeheartedly enforced. 

A quick knock on your hotel door snapped you from your short slumber. You rolled over with a groan, looking over your shoulder at a still snoring Steve. His age was catching up to him alright, because he totally should have woken up from that. You opened the door and greeted Torres, allowing him to step inside. He lugged in a hotel cart with a heavy drape over it, careful in not hitting the doorway. 

“Agent Y/L/N, it’s so great to see you again!”

Now Steve was awake.

“You too! I thought our last rendezvous was cut too short,” you teased, sticking your bottom lip out and giving him puppy-dog eyes. Torres blushed under your gaze but shook his head at your flirting. 

“Well, here we go again! Got everything you need right here.”

He revealed the desktop computer and multiple other monitors, radios, a printer, and earpieces. 

“Looks like Christmas morning,” you joked, helping Torres set up. 

“Sorry for waking you, Captain. Sam said I had to deliver all this before nighttime.”

Steve waved his apology off, “Don’t worry about it. Thanks for doing this.”

“Anything.”

You went over the itinerary for the rest of the week and once Torres announced his leave, you handed him the extra key card you had asked for. 

“If you need anything, or we don’t radio in at the times we set up, you use it. Okay?”

Torres gave you a sincere smile, tucking the key card into his coat pocket. “You can count on me.”

Once Torres left the room, Steve spoke. “Watch him barge in when one of us is showering.”

“Let’s hope we don’t scar the poor kid.”

It took about two hours to set up all the tech and connect it all back to the compound. You video chatted with Bucky and Scott and discussed the itinerary tomorrow. You double-checked mic connections, triple-checked police reports filed within the last few hours, and reviewed spy cam footage Torres had taken of the ranch. It was basically homework. 

“We have to set up our backstories, our so-called relationship, you have to know everything.”

Steve hummed, tapping his pen on the table. “Where do we start?”

“They might ask why you help me in the first place.”

“Fuck America, that’s why.”

You stuttered, voice timid and eyebrows high. “O-oh?”

Steve laughed at your reaction. He leaned in with confidence, “I mean, your father grew up close to a similar time I did. He’s old fashioned, no?”

“Kind of. He’s old so he hates the new clothing styles, women’s rights, the works,” you shrugged. 

“Wow, he sounds worse the more you speak about him.” You rolled your eyes at Steve and his sarcastic tone. “So I can say America just changed way too much since I came out of the ice.”

You nodded and rapidly wrote the basics of the backstory into your notepad. “Okay. But I hope you know you’re gonna have to play into that conservative part, especially with him and Seda.”

“What do you mean?”

You smirked at him and cocked an eyebrow, “You gotta be drowning in toxic masculinity.”

“Fuck, really?”

You almost wanted to lean over and slap his shoulder. It was then that you realized how disconnected Steve really was to this whole situation, never once meeting your father or his minions. He didn’t know the shit that went down when he was in hiding, only the basics, and scaring him now didn’t seem like a great idea. 

“Really. You’re playing the role of my boyfriend in a male-dominated drug war. They think you’re in charge, which is technically correct to assume. Your rank is higher, your status is higher, so your personality needs to match that or else you won’t gain their trust.”

Steve shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, “I don’t know the first thing about disrespecting women.”

You snorted, “I’m gonna be honest and say that was the most adorable shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Stop it.”

You spoke with your hands, fingers dancing as a way to sprinkle some sensitivity on the issue. “Order me around. Tell me when it’s time to leave, be possessive if anyone wants to get my attention, interrupt me.”

“Y/N, I don’t think I can do that.”

“You technically already do it.”

Steve blinked, “Excuse me?”

You lowered your voice to explain, “You’re my Captain. You give me orders on the field. You shut me up when I’m too loud or turning something serious into a joke.”

He shifted again, “But I don’t do it to dominate you.”

“I know you don’t. Trust me.”

“So, I gotta become an asshole?” 

You nodded, “Yes. But you need to know your limits.” You handed Steve multiple files for him to examine. 

“Ramirez is one of the rare ones that loves his family, especially his wife and daughters. You can’t be an ass in front of him.”

Steve grinned as he read, surprised with the restraint Ramirez and his men were able to achieve. “Guess that’s a little relief for me.”

“And White is too much into his own product all day to give a shit.”

Steve paused before he spoke, licking his lips in hesitation. “What happens if your father goes overboard?”

    “Shit,” you mumbled, tumbling into the compound and practically crawling to the first floor. You didn’t know who was home or who was visiting. Wanda, Steve, Natasha, Vision, and Sam were on the run for more than a year now - Scott and Clint were on house arrest (which you were also, technically) - so you truly did not know if your cries for help would be heard. You had practically begged to accompany Wanda or be with Bucky back in Wakanda, but because of your undercover status (and the fact that your father still did not know you aided Captain America in hiding an assumed fugitive), you weren’t allowed to leave the compound without permission. The memory of the separation was almost as painful as the gunshot wound in your abdomen. 

You clutched the side of your stomach and crawled through the doors. 

“Arrrgh - is someone home?”

And with a stroke of luck, Rhodey rounded the corner just in time to hear your plea. 

“Oh my god,” he mumbled, dashing across the room to help you sit up. “What happened?”

“They were getting too suspicious,” you said, wincing when Rhodey pressed a nearby blanket on your wound. “I couldn’t give them Steve’s location.”

“Are you talking about your father and his partner?”

You nodded quickly, helping Rhodey apply pressure. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, alert the medics. First floor,” Rhodey stammered, the sight of your blood making him a little queasy in the morning. 

“I’m gonna kill him if he got one of my kidneys - I was saving that, you know?”

Rhodey involuntarily laughed, quickly covering his mouth. You brushed it off and let him know that if you were still able to joke, he was able to laugh.

“Take your mind off the pain, what happened?”

You sighed, shutting your eyes in distress. “You know that the main players in this game are me and Steve. My father decided that it was time to meet the star-spangled man, time to meet who is distributing his product behind the back of the U.S government.”

Rhodey rotated the blanket to dab with a clean side. You continued speaking. 

“I told him Steve wasn’t active at the moment - not a lie, by the way. But the more I told him that I had no way of being in touch with the dude, the angrier he got. Seda fired a warning shot into my gut, I guess.”

“Shit… I can’t authorize any more solo trips without back-up, Y/N. This has gone too far,” Rhodey sighed, adrenaline lowering once he saw a few medics burst through the door. 

Hours seemed to pass before you awoke. The doctors found no serious damage, your stitches were already healing with the help of Tony’s new tech, and you were up and walking within hours. A slight pinch in your gut bothered you, but other than that you pulled yourself out of bed to go search for Rhodey. You heard voices talking over one another, all angry and authoritative. You tip-toed into the room just in time to see Rhodey end a call and turn back to the group of people he was talking to in person. Your breath hitched when you saw him, face still rugged and more tired than you remembered, but still gorgeous. 

“Steve?” you quietly muttered, all eyes darting toward you. “Wanda?”

You tried to run over to them but were caught limping. Still, Wanda rushed over and enveloped you in a tight hug, noticing the way you twisted your hip outward to avoid full contact.

“Y/N, you shouldn’t be out of bed,” Rhodey said as he came over to hold you steady. 

“What happened to you?” Steve asked, his hand now resting on your blushing cheek. You studied his blue eyes carefully, scared that this reunion was going to last for only a few more seconds, his warm hand making your stomach knot. He had a full beard now, hair longer than you remember, and he filled in his suit more. You were so unbelievably happy to see him after everything that went down. 

You patted his chest with a soft chuckle, “Finally ripped that star off, huh?”

Steve’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but you could see a glint of tenderness. 

He placed his hand over yours, “Who’s ass do I have to kick?”

You waved your hand in the air. “Family drama.”

Rhodey didn’t let that explanation fly, though. He informed the rest of the team of what happened to you, Steve’s anger building. 

But you quickly silenced them, “I’m alright. I’ll deal with it later. What threat do we currently face?”

After their brief update, you were ready to go back to bed. 

“So, you’re telling me that we gotta fight this big purple dude because he wants Vision’s stone? Sure, why not?”

     “I really hope he doesn’t go overboard.”

Steve repeated the question, however. “What do we do?”

You sighed, picking at the potato chips to your side. “If you’re feeling uncomfortable, or I am, we’ll just squeeze each other’s hands.”

“Like a safe word?”

Your smile grew slowly as you registered his innocent words. “Yes, Steve, like a safe word.”

You popped a chip into your mouth and leaned back into your chair,  “Wow, you’re on a roll with that adorableness.”

Steve rolled his eyes and stole a chip from your bag, “Shut up.”

You pointed at him and smiled wider, “See? Toxic bitch.”

It took a moment for Steve to register his previous words, “Okay, okay. I get it. I’m sorry.”

“Forgiven.” 

You dusted off your fingers and handed him even more files, “Alright, so we know that to make it in this drug game, you gotta have connections everywhere.”

“Understandable. What are we looking for tomorrow?”

“Drug lords love to conduct business in the middle of huge events. Big distractions mean more leeway.”

“But tomorrow?”

“We’re going to cut them off. Swipe their ID’s.” 

You elaborated, “To survive in this business, you have to have ID’s to get anywhere and everywhere. We’re looking for fake press ID’s, fake police ID’s, even fucking farming and landowning ID’s or… licenses, really. Those two give us the proof of ownership for certain lands.”

“Just swipe them?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“My father keeps them all in a little safe inside the wall. It’s located in the study. Just his and Seda’s.”

“And they won’t notice they’re missing?”

“Word is that they’re not planning a move until the day of the wedding. Meaning, they’ll be cut off when they open that safe. We have to keep the product from moving or else our agents won’t find the tangible evidence when we give them the green light.”

Steve wrote in his notepad. “So, we’ll focus on the hacking-?”

“During the rehearsal dinner.”

“Gotcha.”

You grabbed the bag of chips and ate a few, the silence still comfortable. You spoke, stealing Steve's attention from the files. “This is gonna work, Steve.”

Steve thinly smiled and reached over to steal the bag from your hands. “As long as we don’t get caught.”

      The steam from the bathroom practically whipped Steve across the face, the smell of lotions and perfume overpowering the natural odor of the hotel air conditioner. He groaned as he searched his suitcase for his pajamas. 

“You couldn’t have left me some hot water?”

You scoffed, towel rinsing your wet hair. “It’s a hotel charging two hundred a night. If you don’t have hot water, then we’ll go down there and ‘Karen’ it up.”

“Funny,” Steve mumbled, pushing past you and locking the bathroom door. You stood, arms slightly raised in confusion, expression mimicking those in comedy shows. If there was any hidden camera, your eyes scanned for it. 

“Uh, what’d I do?” you mumbled to no one in particular. But you brushed off Steve’s sudden change in attitude and sat for the next thirty minutes hand drying your hair in sections and watching television. You were invested in an episode of Kitchen Nightmares that you barely heard your phone ding. You unlocked your phone, laughing under your breath at the group chat messages. 

Bucky: Kill him yet?

Peter: bet she will by wednesday.

Wanda: Ridiculous, all of you

Y/N: Twenty bucks says he kills me.

Bucky: hey are you even allowed to bet on this?

Wanda: Seems fair since you’re so sure she’ll crack

Peter: She’s more sneaky

Y/N: He mad right now

Bucky: He’s always grumpy before his bedtime

Y/N: dude it’s eight

Peter: lmfao

     The same fog of heat exited the bathroom as Steve opened the door and you murmured a quick ‘I told you so’ for him to hear. He ignored you, rubbing his eyes as he plugged his phone to his charger and crawled under his blankets. He sat up, though and reached over to grab his sketchbook, knees coming up to substitute as a flat surface. You snuggled into your blankets after turning the television volume lower and placing the remote closer to Steve’s bedside table. You brought the blanket up to your chin and hummed peacefully.      

The sounds of Steve’s pencil prompted you to open one eye. His tongue was between his incisors and his eyes were squinted slightly, hair only a little wet from his shower and the tip of his nose pink.             

“Drawing always seems to ease your mind, huh?”     

Steve didn’t look up from his drawing, “It’s relaxing. I have control over it, so…”     

You thought his explanation was weird, but you understood what he meant. “I wish I could draw. It seems fun.”     

Steve paused his movements and glanced over at you, “Do you want to learn?”    

You stretched your legs and moaned loudly, “What? You want to teach me how to draw an eye tonight? I’m warning you.”   

Steve shook his head, “Right, I don’t think I have that much patience.”   

You snorted, cracking your knuckles absentmindedly as you searched for a more comfortable spot. “Mm, maybe some other time?”     

“I know you sing, though.”     

You flopped back over to face Steve, elbow now propped up to hold your weight. “How in the world do you know that?”    

“You sing sometimes, in your room. It was quiet, but you would sing along to some song on your earphones.”     

You scrunched your nose and chuckled, “And you were just outside listening?”    

Steve paused his movements again, “What? It was pretty.”    

You sank back down into your pillows and drew the blankets higher. “I feel like you saw me naked.”     

Steve scoffed, “Totally not the same thing.”     

You teased Steve further, “I’m exposed.”     

A throw pillow hit your side out of nowhere. “Stop it, I was being serious!”    

You grabbed the pillow and threw it back at him, “I haven’t sang in a long time. I hum mostly.”     

Steve caught the pillow, and resumed his sketching. “Well, you should definitely sing more.”   

“Thank you, my number one fan. I’ll take that into consideration.” You sighed and closed your eyes again. 

“Why did you stop?”

You winced but quickly covered it by taking in a deep breath, eyes still closed. 

      “You’re still fuming about it. You’re still fuming about your image being ruined. Good ol’ Captain America as a secret, undercover drug dealer!”

Steve finally showed proof of cracking, hands gripping his hair harshly. “Y/N, I said don’t start! I’m finished!”

But you persisted, now screaming and countless, frustrated tears tainting your red cheeks. “You can’t fucking stand me because I tarnished that fucking star on your chest! I made you look bad to a bunch of fucking criminals!”

     “Guess I just didn’t feel like it anymore.”

Steve didn’t want to ignore that, he wanted to dig deeper, but even with much persistence pinching the tip of his tongue, he remained silent and accepted your answer. He glanced your way a few times throughout the next couple minutes, finding your chest fall into a steady rhythm as you drifted off. He turned a page in his sketchbook, quickly brushing the surface clean of any dust before starting the outline of your sleeping form. 

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise​

[myrandomfandomramblings]

A Chenford fanfic - in which Lucy and Tim dance at Angela’s wedding

Angela and Wesley’s wedding had gone off without a hitch due in no small part to Tim’s work as ‘Man of Honour’. Now his job was done and all he had to do was “go have some fun. Enjoy the rest of the night.” That had been a direct order from the bride herself. However, Tim had enjoyed having a role, a purpose, making sure his best friend had the special day she deserved. Now he didn’t know what to do with himself, so he sat alone at his table. 

Throughout the rest of the reception the table had been full, occupied by Sergeant Grey and his wife, Jackson, Nyla, Nolan, and Lucy, but they had all quickly taken the dance floor when that part of the evening had begun. Tim on the other hand had insisted he didn’t dance and stubbornly stuck to that every time Lucy returned to the table for a drink and tried to convince him to join her and the rest of their friends. Tim had no desire to do the Macarena, YMCA, cha-cha slide or whatever other weird dance moves they were rocking when the song didn’t provide instructions. He was pretty sure he saw Nolan do the sprinkler, Jackson do the worm, Lucy do the running man and even Nyla get in on the absurdity with some disco moves. And that was all just during the last song. 

When the song changed, so did the vibe and the moves. It was a slower song, ‘Lover’ by Taylor Swift, Tim thought. Although he didn’t know how he knew that and definitely would deny it if anyone asked. Everybody on the dance floor had now grabbed a partner. Most of the couples were either closely pressed together simply swaying on the spot or doing the classic square step pattern as they carried casual conversations. The exception was Lucy and Jackson who appeared to be improvising an elaborate dance routine that involved very exaggerated facial expressions and an excessive amount of spinning and dipping each other. Tim rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at his lips. The reason for the over-the-top performance became more clear to Tim as the night wore on. 

Every time a slow song came on Lucy would grab a new partner:  one of Angela’s brothers, Nolan, another one of Angela’s brothers, Nyla, and every time she would step on their feet so many times that by the end of the song they were limping and she was beet red, apologizing profusely.  She even managed to give the second brother a bleeding nose when she abruptly looked up from her feet and her head collided with his face. So when the next slow song came on, John Legends’s ‘All of Me,’ Tim found himself standing up from his seat and walking towards the dance floor. He couldn’t handle anymore secondhand embarrassement. 

Tim had taken dance lessons to prepare for his first dance with Isabel. That felt like a lifetime ago but he was confident he still remembered the basics of the Waltz and he was determined to teach Lucy and make her the best dancer there. After all, he had yet to find something she didn’t excel at given the chance to learn especially when he was the one doing the teaching. 

It didn’t take him long to find Lucy. Unsurprising, considering, if he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t taken his eyes off her all night. She was once again dancing with Jackson but this time they were in proper hold and it appeared Jackson was trying to teach her how to not step on her partner’s feet. 

“Mind if I cut in?” Tim asked as he approached the pair. Their shocked expressions suddenly made him self-conscious. What had he been thinking. Before he could really overthink it Jackson was leaving, saying something about having to use the bathroom anyway, and Lucy’s hands were on his shoulders.

“I should warn you,” Lucy said looking up at him, “I appear to have to left feet. I’ve been injuring my dance partners all night.”

Tim placed one hand on the small of her back and took her left hand in his other. “I’ve noticed,” he smirked, “and I’m here to help. Do you trust me?” 

She gave him a questioning look but nodded.

He spent the next couple minutes slowly guiding her both with his body and voice. “Step forward with your left foot. Your other left. Good, now forward and to the right with your right. OK but on a diagonal, you don’t have to go forward then right. Now bring your feet together. Ow! that was my foot. Left to right, not right to left. Now left foot back. And right back and to the right. Now feet together again, right to left. Good and now we are back where we started and we just repeat. Left foot forward…” 

Lucy was just starting to get it when the song ended and ‘Party in the USA’ came on. Tim went to let go of Lucy but she held him where he was.

“I’m just starting to get the hang of it. We can’t stop now,” Lucy stated, “please stay.” She fixed him with those puppy dog eyes he couldn’t say no to so Tim obliged and continued coaching her. 

The only problem was the pump-up pop beats that the DJ was currently favouring were significantly louder than the slow song they were initially dancing to, which meant Tim found himself pulling Lucy closer and leaning down, practically talking right beside her ear so his instructions could be heard over the music. Even when she no longer needed the verbal cues they stayed that close, caught up in their own little world as they moved in unison. When another slow song finally came on, ‘Perfect’ by Ed Sheeran this time, Tim felt Lucy tense like this was some sort of evaluation. He squeezed her hand and whispered in her ear. 

“You’ve got this, and I’ve got your back.” He felt her relax and they quickly fell back into the now familiar routine. When the song ended she pulled away from him slightly. 

“I did it. An entire slow dance and I didn’t cause a single, even minor, injury,” she beamed, staring up at him clearly proud of herself.

Tim smiled and shook his head. “Only because you had such a great teacher.”

Lucy rolled her eyed and playfully pushed his shoulder. “So what’s next?” she asked.

“Next?”

“Yeah, I got the walk in a box thing down but there’s got to be more to it than that. Show me the cool moves Tim.”

Tim didn’t think twice about fulfilling her request. They spent the rest of the night in each others arms as they slowly mastered more and more steps. When the DJ announced the final song of the night it was 3 am and they had the entire dance floor to themselves. 

Shania Twain’s ‘From This Moment On’ began playing, and they glided around the dance floor like they were dancing on air, perfectly in sync. They stepped and spun and dipped and swayed as Tim tried to memorize every moment. The way Lucy’s eyes shone when they met his and the little smile that played on her lips. The playful laugh that escaped her when he lifted her off the ground. The feeling of her hand in his, of her head on his shoulder and her breath on his neck. The warmth of her body pressed against his and her familiar scent overwhelming his senses. Then the song ended and the beautiful trance was broken. Tim drove Lucy home. She thanked him for a wonderful night and neither of them ever mentioned it again. At least not for another couple years when they finally addressed what had been building between them and started dating. Then dancing became a common part of date night and a few years after that they got to show off their moves at their own wedding.

[phantaloon-books]

(some) Riordanverse characters (bc I never read TKC) and which Hogwarts House I think they would be in

Warning: this is a long one

Nico: the dude is definitely Gryffindor without a doubt. Like Sorting isn't about some traits and some characteristics, it's about core personality. He may have gone through some of the roughest stuff when he was 10-12, and he was resentful and bitter, but he was brave and bold af throughout everything he did. From learning about his powers, to using them relentlessly despite knowing how exhausted he is afterwards, to his willingness to do whatever is necessary to do what has to be done, because it has to be done. You can't change my mind that he's Gryffindor lol.

Grover: Do I even need to explain why he's Gryffindor? He's a satyr, and even if we're shown strong satyrs, they're not really supposed to be brave fighters. Yet he is one of the strongest, bravest nature spirits we've ever encountered in the Riordanverse, and one of the bravest in general. Like he's so passionate about doing what is good, he's a hero, and the only thing he doesn't match with common Gryffindors is that he's humble and as far from arrogant as could be possible, but it doesn't take his courage away.

Hazel: She's Gryffindor, and core personality-wise, she and Nico are very much alike. They don't ever think about themselves, like Hazel really always does what has to be done, no matter the cost, I mean she literally died preventing Gaea to rise the first time, and she freed Thanatos while believing he would take her back to the Underworld. She's brave af, and she has one of the most strong willpower we've seen in the Riordanverse. She's a passionate hero, and she's the closest thing to a real knight in shining armor.

Lester: I'm gonna place him in Gryffindor because I don't think he fits in in the other houses lmao. That said, as Apollo he's very shitty, but as Lester, he's one of the most courageous people. He's grown so much, he's so willing to actually do stuff now, and sacrifice everything to do what's right, including his life, even if he doesn't know he's gonna survive. Hell, he really went most of TTT with an incredibly painful wound that nearly turned him undead, and he cared more for the future of Camp Jupiter than his own life. Additionally, he's a bit arrogant and cocky, but he truly means well, I love Lester so much.

Clarisse: Look look, all I have to say is that no one could have pulled off less than half the stuff Clarisse has done, she's so Gryffindor it hurts. She's reckless and impulsive, but she's driven by her passion to do good, even if she's the daughter of war, and was bullied by her own father. She's daring, she's bold and she is the hero. She's also arrogant and thinks she can solve everything by herself, something characteristic more of the canon Gryffindors in the books, rather than what the fans have shaped. In fact, she's very much like Gryffindors in the books, who are actually very rude to other houses and think they're the best. Still, at heart, she's in this house.

Alex: I'm in a huge dilemma about where to put them, but I reckon they'd fit pretty fine in Gryffindor. Not only are they daring and courageous, they're proud of who they are, but not in a too full of themselves kind of way, rather in a 'I am who I am, and if you can't accept me, fuck off' kind of way. They can get carried away rather easily though, and very arrogant, thinking they don't need anyone else, when they do in fact need some company. They are one of the kindest and at the same time most ambitious characters we've met, but they are brave beyond understanding in a very personal way, thus, Gryffindor.

Percy: I think it's fair to say he'd be Hufflepuff, because loyalty is literally his fucking fatal flaw, and he is the kindest sweetheart to all those who deserve it, he goes out of his way to help those who need help, whether that be mortals, halfbloods, gods, magical creatures or even his own enemies. He's too good for this world, and even if he's grown a bit bitter, he always looks to fight justly for what is right, and never loses faith in others. That, and the fact that he turned down immortality so that the olympians were more inclusive of minor gods, and their children were treated better. He's just a lovely soul, he's like 80% Hufflepuff so that's enough for me. All that and he's stubborn as hell.

Jason: Hufflepuff. Just, undoubtedly Hufflepuff. Like he seems to be this cold and self centered hero with a superiority complex (bc of all the son of Jupiter stuff) but he's the softest guy there is. Not only is he hardworking, open minded and kind, he appreciates justice but he doesn't seek for revenge or anything, he makes sure people are treated fairly and wants everyone to be accepted. Proof of that is how he continued Percy's job of including more gods, and made sure Nico felt comfortable with who he was. He truly has a heart of gold. (He deserved better btw)

Meg: God I can't decide between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, but I think I'll go with the former. She's so strong, my baby, she's faced so much wrong, but she's still so kind and understanding of others, especially those who deserve kindness. She puts up such a hard facade, but she's so patient and warm and inclusive. She's brave and strong (as strong as the big three kids, if not stronger), but she's also so loyal to her beliefs despite how she was forced someone else's beliefs for years, so I'll keep her in Hufflepuff. Also, she's stubborn af, and she can be lazy, so that settles it.

Will: I KNOW some people will say Will could be in other houses that are not Hufflepuff, BUT I won't have it any other way. Will is literally the warmest person ever. He is kind and sympathetic and enthusiastic and patient and inclusive. Like Helga Hufflepuff would take one look at him and lose her shit screaming "mine". He's the guy who saw the son of Hades so many people were scared of and immediately grabbed his hand and transfered him some warmth and didn't let him go ahead and get himself killed. He's also the one who everyone loves and likes, so much that Clarisse gets along with him and he can calm her down. He's the ideal Hufflepuff, you can't change my mind.

Magnus: I mean, what else can you expect from the son of the god of summer? He's literally a guy who heals others with warmth. He's also the guy who spent years on the street with the most difficult situations, and accepts every single person the way they are. He's inclusive af, and tolerant of everything. He's the guy who's closest include a deaf elf, a Muslim valkyrie, and a black dwarf, and he's dating a genderfluid person. Yes he's brave, and he's kinda smart, and he's ambitious, BUT none of those qualities overpower his Hufflepuff nature.

Piper: Kinda debated whether Gryffindor or Ravenclaw fits more, but in the end I went with Ravenclaw. Even though she isn't a fighter, she's very very brave, yet her bravery isn't compared to her wits. Like others in the PJOverse, she wins her fights by outsmarting her opponents, but unlike others that's one of her strongest traits. She's witty and creative and a little on the negative side, she really struggled to work in a group rather than by herself. On another note, she's able to keep calm in crazy situations and come up with the craziest most unthinkable solutions (I'm talking borderline ridiculous) that always somehow work. She's not booksmart, but she knows so much about everything, and she's lifesmart you know?

Reyna: Why are some of these so hard? Deeply debating whether she'd be Ravenclaw or Slytherin. In the end I'd go more for Ravenclaw though. Reyna's smart as hell, she's strong and sharp, and she always sees the best way out of a situation. She's witty and observant, being able to keep her cool in battle and lead others in the best direction. She's always looking to grow, and she prefers to do things on her own, but she's a great leader. She has some Slytherin qualities, and she's not learning as learning oriented as others, but she's definitely Ravenclaw.

Sam: Let's face it, Sam has the only active neurons in all of MCGA, she's definitely Ravenclaw. I'm gonna be honest though, I've only read MCGA once, so I can't remember much of their personalities, but Sam is witty and clever, pretty much the only one who can come up with competent plans, while the others rely mostly on luck and whatever plan they can cook up in 5 seconds. She's loyal and true to who she is, and she's extremely courageous and proud of who she is, but her sharpness is what she stands out for me, which is why I put her in Ravenclaw.

Annabeth: I know the obvious option is Ravenclaw, but I genuinely think she's also Slytherin. Yes she is booksmart and wise like Ravenclaw, but her personality matches Slytherins' ambitious, cunning and resourceful nature. She's smart as fuck, but she's calculative, she always finds a way to end up winning, and while she does so by outsmarting her opponents, she wouldn't need to outsmart them if she weren't so competitive. I feel like there's this 40/60 odds on Slytherin rather than Ravenclaw, but it's that small difference that counts. Plus her leadership skills are so powerful that people don't ask, they just know she's the boss.

(Also just picture the sweet and loyal Hufflepuff boy with the strong and cunning Slytherin girl, like it should be as opposite as it is with Poseidon and Athena, but they're so cute)

Leo: Idk what you can expect that's not Slytherin. This boy is the embodiment of ambition and determination. Reminder that not all Slytherins are bad btw (I'm slytherin myself), but like he's life smart and cunning, and he can analyze situations faster than anyone else. He's charismatic and talented, and there's no one to stop him from triumphing. I don't have much to say, I just know he'd be in Slytherin.

Rachel: She's kinda a difficult one, and I struggle between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and tbh I'm still not sure. But I think I'd place her in Slytherin, because even if she's brave af (especially since she was a mortal fighting in a war out of her power), her main trait is her determination. When she's set on something, she gets it done. You can't tell her she can't do something, because she will find a way to do it. She's kind, and she's only a mortal, but she still has incredible power unlike any other. I don't think I can really name it, but I think she'd be put on Slytherin with much difficulty from the Sorting Hat.

Luke: Where else could Luke possibly go? On the meaner side Slytherins have created themselves, Luke would be part of those misled by who preceded them, by those who want to take advantage of their mistreatment (bc let's face it, Slytherins are mistreated by both students and Hogwarts staff), and turn them cold and bitter. Luke is ambitious and manipulative, being manipulated himself, and it comes easily because of his natural charisma and talent. He's very freaking determined and cunning too. He'd fit right into Slytherin, but he'd be viewed as one of the rotten lot.

Thalia: I don't have much to say about this, but Thalia is the girl whose fatal flaw is their desire for power (or smth along those lines), just like most Slytherins. She's ambitious, she's smart, she's truly talented, she stands out between the rest, and she knows it, and she actually kinda likes it.

(Also I put Annabeth, Thalia and Luke in the same house because they're all kinda similar, even if their beliefs and postures are different.

Frank: Ngl I'm having more difficulty with Frank than anyone else. I'm kinda torn between Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. I literally can't choose. He'd fit perfectly in any of them lmao, I just can't decide where he'd go. You decide this one yourself.

Please keep in mind, this is my personal opinion and my take on the characters, and not all of you will agree, and that's fine! You can let me know what you think (kindly please, don't come at me), and if you want to, send me an ask on a character you want me to do the same as these (as long as it's not TKC, I'M SORRY I haven't read those) go ahead, don't be shy!

[sabineelectricheart]

Sneaking Out to the Neighbour's Bedroom

Summary: Jamie Last sneaks to her sleepy, nerdy boyfriend's bedroom.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 1100

Notes: My first fanfic ‘round here, but I have more material up on AO3 that I’ll cross-post.

Jamie Last jumped out from her perched window into the soft lawn beneath, as it was increasingly becoming a habit of hers. She was humming a Pop 40 song she had heard Miranda sing that Spring afternoon in school, after lunch, and the stupid tune was stuck in her head.

She crossed the street and walked over the other house calmly, before putting a sneakered foot on the desired windowsill of his neighbour’s and propelled herself up.

As the teen girl arrived in the room, she saw an incredibly tired Cove, sitting on his desk chair and staring at the window like a lost puppy. He brightened up when he heard the familiar rustle and bustle of vegetation and her figure emerging from the offending opening and he gave her a sleepy, sleepy, sleepy smile which made her giggle like reindeer bells.

Jamie approached him and, as if he was a boa constrictor, she was immediately in his arms. Cove was exceptionally clingy when he was tired and if she was around, he needed her in his arms or he might just die, or so he claims.

"Where were you?" He mumbles into her neck, nuzzling his nose against her skin.

"Cheerleading practice took a while more than I expected, and then the moms wanted to talk about my grades, darling. Do you want to go to bed and sleep?" She asks him, running a hand through his messy seafoam hair.

"If I sleep, you’re going to leave." He whines, pulling her even closer.

She giggled at his eternally childish self and her heart exploded when she felt his lips stretch into a smile against her skin.

“No, I won’t.” The girl insisted. “Come on, sleepyhead, let’s lay down. You need some rest tonight.”

Cove hummed back but made no effort to move. Instead he started to plant little kisses on her neck sloppily.

"Cove, honey?" Jamie whispers.

"Yeah." He hums, parting away just enough for them to walk to the single bed on the far side of the room. He still had his arms around her waist and had half of his body weight leaned against hers.

The athletic girl came to a stop in front of the boy’s bed and laid on it. Cove laid in between her legs and rested his head on her shoulder, letting out a grunt of satisfaction.

With their arms intertwined with one another, Jamie’s hand went into his hair so she could gently rake her fingers through his soft curls. Cove groaned a little, smiling into her shoulder.

"Why were you up so late last night, Cove?" She asks, with the soft voice he knew she used when she was concerned about him.

Cove closes his eyes as he heard the question.

"I had to study. We had a test on AP Chemistry this morning, and I really wanted to do well." He whispers, with embarrassment.

He felt a soft hand cup his jaw and pull his head up to face her. He opened his eyes and gazed into his lover's eyes which were filled with concern.

"You should take care of yourself, Cove." She frowns.

Cove moves his head a little, kissing the palm of her hand. "You're here for that, Jamie. It’s all the care I want or need."

"I can't sleep with you every night, lazy boy." The student athlete tells him.

"You can, actually. My dad won’t mind. Let's see if he would." Before Jamie could have said anything, Cove was already yelling at his father, who was likely on the living room or the kitchen. "Dad! Would you mind if Jamie slept over every night?!"

Jamie buried her head in his green hair, trying hide her very embarrassed expression, even if no one else could see it other than Cove himself.

"You’d have to check with her moms first!" Cliff yells back, causing her to bury her head further in his son’s curls. “And no funny business under my roof!”

Cove grins and turns to her. "See? You can sleep with me every day now."

“What about my moms?” She raised an eyebrow in questioning.

The boy scoffed. “Please, they love me! You said yourself they think I’m a good influence on you.”

"If you behave like an annoying nerd, forget cuddling with me." She murmured, making him widen his eyes. He seemed to be wide awake now.

"Oh, no, please. That's not happening. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, baby, it wasn't my intention. Sorry." He started to pepper kisses all over her face after whispering those words, thoroughly determined to make her forgive him.

She could not help but giggle at him. "It's okay Cove, no harm done."

Cove stopped and leaned away to look her in the eyes. Those stunning and bright evergreen eyes were dull with guilt. "Are you sure?"

"I'm completely sure, honey." She pulled him into a kiss and let her eyes roll back when he kissed her gently and slowly, driving her insane by those slightly sun-chapped lips. “It’s not like I wouldn’t miss it, too.”

Cove's hands started to roam along her sides, leaving a tickling sensation behind. He almost moaned by how ecstatic he felt to kiss her. It was like her kisses were the Ambrosia and he was starving for it.

Soon she parted away, making him pout like the spoiled boy he was when they met.

"I almost forgot that you're tired, honey. Just go to sleep." The cheerleader kissed his nose and brought him back to her chest. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, like I’ll always be.”

Cove smiled lazily, laying his head on her chest and sighing blissfully. He closed his eyes and one of his hands immediately reached for hers. He intertwined their fingers together and tucked their joint hands under his chin.

He did this at times when he was the little spoon and Jamie found it too adorable.

She started softly singing to him, knowing full well that he absolutely loved whenever she sang to him, but more especially when he was about to go to sleep.

With the massage he was getting and that divine voice, he was soon lulled to a restful, deep sleep.

Jamie knew their parents snickered and teased them as if an Olympic sport, that Liz would mock him calling the boy her baby boyfriend, that Miranda and Terri would complain about the mush fest around them, but deep down they were all very happy to know that they shared a true, everlasting love.

It was nothing but what they deserved.

*_*_*_*_*

Our Life Masterlist

[aemoonie]

After watching nct dream reflecting back on their past and present selves for the hello future videos i'm honestly really worried for renjun. I think all of them went through a lot in the industry, especially considering they were minors and how controlled and handled they must have been and still are, not to mention just the general effects fame can have on you but renjun is such an emotional person, he was described in mental training camp as the "artist type" who feels a lot and gets lonely easily and he basically confirmed it himself by saying he gets lonely even on sunny days. He said he values freedom a lot and being able to hold conversation comfortably and without restrictions. I think he's a very determined person and has a good head on his shoulders (in the interview with eric nam he said he went to Korea at 15 bc he wanted to sing and would've done it even if his parents said no. When I was 15 I was just figuring out what music I liked and how I wanted to dress and trying to adjust to highschool, like his determination is insane) and he knows what he wants to get out of life, I think he also lives for himself, and is very confident in who he is but like everyone else he has bad days and I imagine if he gets down it really hits him bc of how emotional he is. It was even said that his personality is very rare and he's just such a precious person. I also worry bc he seems to look detached at times and not really present or in his head compared to the dreamies, but that may just be part of his personality. I hope he can always be happy and experience freedom in the way he describes it and live his life to the fullest. It's also clear he means a lot to his other members, especially jisung and I hope he can rely on them and confind in them (along with his other loved ones) when he needs it. Sorry for the essay but that video hit me and I'm in my soft hours 🥺

On another note he's just such a dreamy and ethereal person, like his mind amazes me. He's so well-spoken and expresses his thoughts so eloquently and gently. Whenever we get glimpses of his thoughts and imagination via his stories is so dreamy and beautiful. Again, with eric nam, when they described their own ideal country he said he would want people to live together in a tree and wear old, classic clothes. Like his mind bruh!! I also liked when mark said he wants to try a more acoustic sound and that he would like to write short stories, like edgar allan poe. It's obvious these boys are much more and deeper than what their loud, celebrity personas show and I really liked some of the personal things they shared.

yes omg get ready folks this is gonna be long lmao

first of all, i totally agree with you! i feel like renjun is getting to the point where he feels comfortable sharing this vulnerable side of his (and true self) with us, and maybe he doesn't feel the need to fit this certain image anymore. remember when he said that sm wanted him to act like a "pure" boy? right, i think he's done with that lol

and yes, they were sooo young when they got into the industry and it would honestly be scarier if they hadn't any issues mentally cause of this. but i love the fact that they are somewhat able to talk about it and while they probably have to walk on eggshells anytime they do, i can just appreciate that (esp. renjun) they feel comfortable enough to want to share it. renjun doesn't strike me as an overly sensitive guy, more like you described: emotional, passionate and introspective.

his determination is really something, like you're totally on point with that! with 15 i was in no way in a headspace where i could have pursued an artistic and/or public career like he has. especially with the harsh trainee schedules, pressure and everything. thinking about my 15-year-old-self moving to a different country and going under such strict training, i probably would've cried every night lol. i hope he could deal with it somewhat good and that with his therapy (and other means) he can take care of his mental health <3 it really itches me to think about him too much, because i just feel so conflicted for him and i can't even imagine how he must feel (since he is actually living this life ya know).

i just hope he doesn't regret with how he chose to pursue his life, i can imagine that, as an idol, you sometimes wonder if it wouldn't have been better to choose a more relaxed career (i have to think about mark saying that he had a lot of doubts). and with what they said about his personality... i mean yes, if he says he does get lonely often, then that isn't pretty at all. and all we can really do as fans is to support him and hope he takes care of his own well-being tbh. i totally agree with you that he has a very interesting mind and can express himself very uniquely, in a way that makes you instantly comfortable. i think that are definitely some of his best strengths. he's very compassionate and considerate and he shows it so effortlessly (honestly i don't even think he realizes what nice energy he has).

and boy, don't even get me started with mark. dude, he is one of the nct members that get reduced to like 3 character traits and then people just move on. like yes, he is a cheerful person who laughs at everything and it's adorable. he may be a bit awkward and he is an insanely talented rapper, but he is also so much more! the fact that he enjoys writing so much really makes me soft!! mark is also much more sensitive and emotionally tuned than what we give him credit for. i feel like people just underestimate fire placements and disregard their emotional nature so often, just because they usually are enthusiastic and not as much the "motherly/comforting" type like water placements. but they also have emotions!! a lot, actually! he is someone who can make people really comfortable around him pretty fast and i can not imagine that many people don't like this guy tbh. his Cancer Mercury (i think) also shows so much, because he is very considerate and i think he takes others way more into consideration than we think. and the way he carries himself in the studio is also so interesting!! anyway, i don't wanna go on forever, mark is best boy

(and side note to mark: acoustic sound?? yes pls i love acoustic stuff T-T i am becoming a #1 mark supporter haha)

and the dreamies in general are of course not those 2-dimensional characters that entertainment industries or their fans often make them out to be. i feel like almost all of them have sides of themselves that we don't know and will probably never get to see and that's totally how it should be. but i feel like people like jaemin or haechan, who have a very unique and expressive way of carrying themselves, get mistaken for just those things too often. the members have mentioned so often that haechan keeps them together and is the one who can cheer them up at all times. i do believe that he can act like "the glue" sometimes, because he is a person who can understand others very well and can communicate smoothly in order to mediate between them. he also has a Cancer Mercury, and from my personal experience as someone with a lot of Cancer/Gemini dynamic (and a Cancer Mercury), that is a combination that does make you want to mediate all the damn time haha. i often find myself in similar situations in my friend groups, where it's always the other people fighting and i become the neutral middle ground where both people go to vent T-T. but i think that is such an underrated quality of him! i feel like he picks up other's moods or problems quickly and is eager to help people, which are amazing qualities!!

and jaemin is just... a mystery to me as well ngl haha. but i feel like he takes such good care of the others without even wanting something in return. like when he talked about doing jeno's laundry in that one live and being like nagging but not seriously lol. he is just someone who takes care without much boasting around or smth and i feel like he plays an important role, that is more in the background. i often wonder what he is like in the dorms and in 7chillin i thought he had such a nice dynamic with all of them. but i feel like he isn't very open with his feelings, which is (his damn Cap Moon) unfortunate, but again, i can only hope he finds a way to cope with his feelings healthily.

anyway, to wrap it up finally; i really like the honesty the dreamies have at the moment and i am glad sm let's them talk a little more personally. i think after coming together again as 7 members, they really realized how much they like being together! and it's so heart-warming to see <3 renjun is truly an amazing person from what we see of him and i love having these conversations about him haha. i feel like he is really getting a lot of well-deserved attention lately and i love that for him <3