#if you lose someone like sam YOU PINE

[hacash]

So I really don’t want Sam/Rebecca back again, I’ll be honest. However I’m not so worried as some people by all the green matchbook (the show’s never done us a psych-out before about Rebecca’s love life, after all...) and the fleeting glances from Rebecca at Sam’s restaurant - isn’t this still meant to be reasonably soon after the last season ended? I’d been expecting some ‘Rebecca’s still getting over the breakup’ stuff early in the season, and tbh this is more what it feels like to me...after all, if you’d loved and lost, and moreover loved and lost Sam Obisanya, you’re not getting over that in a heartbeat.

Also, I may be wrong but to me, ‘shite in nining armour’ doesn’t sound like a malapropism that Sam would make.

...It sounds like one Ted would make though.

[zepskies]

Hi, how are you?

I was wondering if you could write something like "Dean reads you wrong" but with Sam Please

Hey, lovely!

I'm doing well, thank you. 💜 I hope you are too! Hmm, I'm still working through my current bank of requests, but since "Dean reads you wrong" is so fresh, it got me thinking about how Sam would go about this...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: It's hard for Sam to admit he wants you...when he thinks you might want his brother.

Song Inspo: "If You're Gone" by Matchbox Twenty

Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Sam reads you wrong.

When Sam falls for someone, he's...well, what he would call self-aware.

But also cautious.

He knows his own track record with women. He knows the life he leads, and has resigned himself to giving up most kinds of normalcy or domesticity.

And maybe, a part deep in the back of his brain has given up on the idea of love.

That's why it's so damn confounding...how you've managed to take him by surprise.

He's always been able to rely on you. Whether it's sharing the brunt of the research with him when Dean loses focus, or staying up with Sam on late nights, sharing mugs of tea and quiet conversation, bonding over familiar tastes in books, and '90s grunge music, of all things.

You also confessed to him, late one night, that you have a growing collection of mugs, fuzzy socks, and vinyl records, despite the fact that your record player has collected more dust than the bunker's old storage room.

You're wonderfully weird.

And you're unfailingly loyal to who you consider "your people." And Sam thinks (knows) he's fortunate enough to be included in that small circle.

Sam also knows, deep in his gut, no matter how much he tries to "rationalize" it away, that you're special. And special to him.

You've managed to do more than just slip under his skin. When he thinks too hard on it, he can admit it (just to himself). You've infiltrated all four corners of his heart so deeply, he doesn't have a prayer of scooping you out.

Some days, it's all he can do not to reach out while you're chatting away, filling the silence.

He can picture it like a scene in his mind: of interrupting your mouth with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to his and showing you, with or without words, that he wants you...

And yet.

He can't help but watch how you are with Dean.

You two tease each other, bicker and gripe over coffee grinds left in the coffee pot and who ate the last of the leftovers. You fight with Dean over the remote on movie night (once, damn near smothering him with a pillow).

But you also dote on him, making sure Dean has one of his favorite desserts every time you go out to buy groceries. You swap his beer out for water when he's not looking. (And though Dean frowns and grumbles, he doesn't argue with your raised brow and imploring look.)

It's not quite flirting, but it's not quite platonic either—at least in Sam's eyes. You and Dean seem to have something.

And sometimes, your playful banter with his brother makes Sam sick to his stomach.

Like today, when Sam’s sitting at the kitchen table reading while you're making a cup of tea. The silence between you two is amiable, like usual.

Sam steals a glance at you and has to smile.

"Going with purple polka dots today?" he asks.

You look over with knitted brows of confusion, until you follow his gaze. You laugh sheepishly and wiggle your toes through your fuzzy socks.

"The floor is cold as hell," you defend yourself.

Sam's smile deepens a fraction as he turns back to his book.

"They're cute," he adds.

You turn your face to hide your blush. The mild thunder of heavy boots announces Dean's presence as he pops into the kitchen.

"Oh good, you're cooking. What's for dinner?" he asks. You turn to give him a familiar narrowed look.

"Who says I'm cooking?" you counter.

"Well, you're doing something on the stove..." Dean peers over and catches a whiff of the concoction you're brewing. He grimaces. "Second thought, I'm good. That smells like ass, whatever it is."

You roll your eyes at him. "It's just green tea, Dean. You know, health?"

He levels a deadpan expression at you as he opens up the pantry.

"I see your 'health' and I raise you...Doritos," he says. He digs his hand into the bag he's just pilfered and crunches a mouthful in your face. You can't help but splutter a laugh and push Dean away.

"You're ridiculous. If you catch a heart attack at 50, don't come crying to me."

"Hey, at least I'll die happy."

"Oh, right. A silver lining there. I'd hate to see what your arteries look like," you tease.

"Has anyone told you that you're unsavory?" Dean asks, continuing to crunch with an open mouth.

You smirk. "Is that your way of calling me sweet?"

He snorts. "Sure, sweetheart. We'll call it that."

"You know, I'm not your sweetheart," you point out.

Dean discreetly glances his brother's way with a sly glint in his eyes. Sam doesn't see it; by now he's trying his damndest to keep his eyes in his book and ignore the way his stomach is clenching, chest tightening.

Dean shifts his attention back at you and reaches down to brush your chin with his thumb.

"Not yet, but you could be," he says, in a flirtatious edge that he's never quite taken with you.

You're wide-eyed for a moment. In the end, though, you choose to take it as teasing. You push his hand away and give him an annoyed look.

"God, you're such a clown. Order a pizza if you're that hungry," you rejoin, and you pour two mugs of freshly brewed tea. "I won't even bother offering you one."

"Nope," Dean says, popping the "p." He walks out of the kitchen, giving Sam a firm slap on the back. Sam coughs and shoots his brother a frown.

Dean has the gall to wink at him before he walks out. Like he's having his own little private joke.

Well, Sam isn't laughing. He stares down hard at his book. He tries to ignore everything he just heard and saw out of the corner of his eye.

It becomes too much. He takes up his book and heads out of the kitchen.

He just doesn't see the way you frown as he walks away. There you stand, left holding two mugs of tea for you and him.

Sam returns to his room for a while. He's not hiding. He's...reading.

There's a knock at his door, and if it's Dean, he swears he's going to open his mouth and tell his brother to leave him the hell alone, like he's some kind of moody teen.

But it's you.

"Hey," you greet, after the door creaks open. Sam softens.

"Hey," he says, clearing his throat. "What's up?"

"You," you reply. You bring him his hot mug of tea and set it down on the desk where he sits.

"Thanks," he says.

You nod and place your mug beside his (Lord of the Rings themed, of course), and cross your arms as you lean against his desk.

Sam turns toward you in his chair. His hands rest on his thighs. His gaze travels back up to your face as he tries to keep his neutral, but welcoming to whatever you want to ask him. (He buries his heart deep, as he instinctively does whenever you're near him.)

"You okay?" you ask. Your brows furrow the longer you gaze down at him. Just staring, like you know he's hiding something. Like you can see straight into him, into the shadows where he keeps most of his thoughts of you.

This is perhaps the only area of his life where he's a coward.

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam replies, in a tone that suggests, Why wouldn't I be?

You quirk a smile. "Why don't I believe you?"

Sam swallows. For once, he's not sure what to say to you.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you say softly. You take a subtle step into his orbit, almost between his open legs. Your demeanor says that you'd gladly listen, do whatever he asked of you. Because you're just that kind.

Sam's mouth twitches upward. "I know. I'm fine, really."

"You're fine, or you're Winchester fine?" you raise a brow.

Sam chuckles then, showing a flash of his smile. It lightens you.

"Maybe a bit of the second one," he admits.

You smile and inch closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah? Tell me," you say. Your voice is soft, but not quite a whisper.

It leads Sam to sigh. He grasps your hand where it lies on his shoulder. For a moment, he debates internally. He realizes then that Dean's antics earlier might've been more than just teasing. Maybe it was a subtle nudge—to stop wasting time.

Damn it, just do something, Sam thinks.

When you squeeze his hand back, it's just the small push he needs. He glances up at you.

Then he takes your hand and holds it between both of his, with care. He tugs you forward, surprising you as you step forward between his legs. Your mouth parts in soft surprise when he reaches a hand up to your cheek.

You still look surprised, blushing up to your ears, but you're not pulling away. In fact, your widened gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.

Sam smiles. He tugs you down to him and enacts a living daydream, finally kissing you with everything he has. Everything he’s had locked inside.

You respond to his mouth in kind; the subtle gasp of breath against his lips sharply cuts off as you sink into his kiss. Your trembling hand comes to his cheek, grazing the dull prickle of stubble. When your fingers dive into his hair next, it’s his turn to take a deep breath.

With each new kiss, he explores more of you. His hands find your waist, and he gathers you against his chest. You find purchase on his strong shoulders and give into the opportunity to straddle his hips, sitting in his lap while he continues to make your heartbeat wild in your chest.

Sam slows the kiss, only because his brain is starting to catch up with his heart. He wants to see your face, to make sure this is what you want.

He finds that and more when he looks up at you.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tenderly brushing his thumb against your cheek.

"Does that answer your question?" he asks, with a soft laugh. You join him and press your forehead against his.

"I don't know,” you tease. Your eyes are dancing, both with amusement and relief. Because your heart has wanted this for even longer than Sam's.

You lean back in to whisper close to his lips. “Maybe I need a little more clarity."

Sam takes you at your word.

AN: It's been a long time since I've written for Sam! 💜 I got in another request for him a while ago. I may dust that one off soon... Until then, let me know what you think of this!

(And don't worry. I didn't forget about the Soldier Boy imagine I promised. That will come out at the end of this week, most likely!)

Read Dean's version: "Dean reads you wrong."

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[winterarmyy]

Behind The Facades | Part I

An unrequited pining over a certain super soldier.

Summary: In which Y/N is pining over Bucky while she watch him wrap his arms around someone else.

Navigation: Part I || Part II || Part III (end)

Words: 1.2k++

Pairings: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: angst. just pure angst and pain.

P/S: i'm feeling melancholy all of the sudden, therefore this idea was born. It's a very short one but I hope you enjoy!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

"Never let your true feelings show." was one and if not the most important lesson Y/N learned from where she was trained before becoming an agent under the avengers program.

It was so deeply etched within her very being, that the habit had became as natural as breathing the air into her lungs.

"Keep that mask on, and no one will be able ever break you." They said.

So, she did exactly that.

She giggled when Bucky told her about how he managed to make a fool of himself when he attempted to flirt a girl that he had fallen for at that bar he regularly went to.

He really shouldn't read those random top 10 pickuplines articles on Google anymore.

Tears were threaten to fall, as her shoulders shook in silent laughter, "Really, Barnes? I thought you were the ladies man back in the 40's"

"Exactly. 'Were' . Now, I am clearly not. Urghh, I can't believe I let that birdbrain convince me that these 'pickuplines' would do the trick."

Despite his gruff annoyance towards Sam, she could see a tinge of red shade on Bucky's cheek; probably feel embarrassed from what happened.

Gulping down whatever drink he had in his glass Bucky huffed, "Honestly, I don't think any sane person would even consider to approach me, let alone date me." His sharp gaze wavered into something more vulnerable.

Though he didn't mention anything about his history but when he shifted his view to the metal of his left hand, Y/N knew what he meant.

Y/N gaze softens, "I'm here with you. Am I not?" Her nails dug into the skin of her thighs as she held back from wanting to touch him, kiss him, hold him; to whisper sweet nothings in his ears in hopes that it would shut whatever doubts he has of himself even for just a moment.

There was a swift glaze over Bucky's eyes. As if he realized something but his words seems to deny his revelation, "I said 'sane person', Y/N."

Y/N gasped with an exaggerated perplex on her expression, "Sargent James Buchanan Barnes..." she purposely called him by his title, hoping it will remind him that he should have the reputation of a respectful man, "... are you accusing me of losing my sanity?"

Bucky shrugs with a face of pure innocence, "In this tower? We all are. But, especially you." a playful smirk tugged the corner of his lips as he waited to witness her reaction.

She stifled a laugh when she heard a knock on her door and then greeted by what looked like a mountain flower, and in between them was Bucky.

He had impulsively bought almost half a dozen bouquet of flowers because he couldn't decided which one of them is pretty enough for his date.

He shyly laughed it off when she told him "You could've face-timed me at the shop instead of ended up buying this much of flowers, Buck."

"God, you're right, doll. Why didn't I thought of that?" He frowned as he sighed.

"Because you're old and forgetful, that's why." Y/N teased as she leaned to the door frame, arms folded across her chest.

Bucky rolled his eyes before sending a glare towards her, "You're not going to stop mentioning my age in everything, are you?" he grumbled.

He might not know it but Y/N managed to noticed a tiny pout on his lips; something only, as they said, Steve can notice. That slight difference on his lowers lips; a very minimal protrude, barely noticable.

But secretly, she can see it too. And it was something she wished she could brag about, something she could tell the world; how lucky she was to be able to notice those little things about him.

She chuckled with an answer, "Never."

Another grumble escaped from Bucky somewhere behind the bouquets, before he presented a particular set towards Y/N, "Anyway, this is for you." He acts reluctant but she knew he was always sincere with actions.

Her eyes skimmed through the gorgeous arrangement of daisies; her favourite.

For a mere second, she let her heart flutter and a genuine smile bloomed on her lips; however the truth was not supposed to surface.

If Bucky was not blinded by the bouquet, he would've seen how the joyous glint her eyes faded even if her smile was still intact.

"Bribery is an act against the law, you do know that right, Sargent?" Nevertheless, her hands reached out to take the gift.

Bucky chuckled in response, "Yes, ma'am. I do."

She smiled when Bucky's love-struck gaze shines when he told her about his first kiss with that lucky lady, during one of those midnight coffee trips she share with him at the pantry.

He should've seen how beautiful he looked that night; free of worries and caught in pure joy.

"It was..." Bucky sighed in content; he was so happy he lost his words. As he tried to find the right description of the kiss, she could see his gaze softens.

Y/N knew he was recalling the kiss, but she couldn't help but to fall for him all over again; not that it's not a recurring event everyday but she really did felt as if her heart stopped for more than necessary.

'He's so happy.' She thought to herself. 'Then, I should be happy for him too'

So she did exactly how it supposed to be done.

"Mirror their feelings; that way your true feelings will never show."

Y/N did exactly that.

That one habit that had lead Y/N to countless of undercover missions.

The same missions that left Y/N with one of the highest rate of successful inflitration, unharmed.

And yet, the facade she wore seemed to failed her this time.

Why didn't work?

Why does it hurts?

The longer she kept the mask on, the more it burns from within.

"Keep that mask on, and no one will be able ever break you."

Then, why does her heart aches as if it was falling apart?

Y/N could feel how weak her knees were becoming, she had to lean on counter tops for support. The slow ballad filling the living room, leaking to the pantry from where she stood and watched.

Oh, she loved this song.

She wrapped her shivering hands around the warm cup of coffee that she made as she watched the couple danced. And the longer her longing gaze linger on Bucky, the blurrier her vision get.

"Y/N..." Natasha softly grazed the side of Y/N's arm. How could she not notice Natasha coming in. Must have been her widow effect.

"You're breaking, honey." Natasha was meaning to imply about Y/N's heart but she was so set on hiding her feelings she thought Natasha meant differently, "I know." She replied as she sipped on the warm drink.

Her facades are breaking.

Her hazy vision remained on the, now shadows of the dancing couple, "I will put up a new one." She didn't even notice how her own voice cracked.

Tears overflowed from the corner of her eyes, "Just let this one crumble." Her lips trembled as she told the truth, "Cause I don't think I can fix this."

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I'm thinking to have more of this couple; should i do it? Any thoughts?

[deancasbigbang]

Title: You Are Moonlight

Author: Maxine

Artist: onowey

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Past Dean/Lee Webb (one scene), Minor Sam/Eileen, Past Sam/Brady (mentioned), Past Sam/Jess (mentioned).

Length: 50000

Warnings: Minor character death, temporary character death, mentions of torture and brainwashing, descriptions of panic attacks, scenes involving alcohol intoxication

Tags: Reimagining of seasons 1-5, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, betrayal, heartbreak, fake!student Dean

Posting Date: October 24, 2024

Summary: On November 2nd, 1983, the fire that killed Mary also took Sam, leaving John to raise Dean to be a hunter. Thirty-two years later, following a violent encounter with some demons, a dying John reveals to Dean that he recently discovered that Sam and Mary are still alive. He also tells Dean that he must kill Sam if he can’t save him. Grieving, confused, and with no educational background other than a GED, Dean manages to find a way to go “undercover” as a student at Stanford Law School where his brother is currently studying. What he discovers is that there’s something big brewing; an Apocalypse waiting to happen, and that he needs to find a way to stop it. It also doesn’t help that Dean is falling for one of his professors and a fellow hunter — Castiel Novak, who may or may not really be who he says he is.

Excerpt: Dean had been stabbed. Oh, dammit. He fell to his knees, pain taking over everything, the dim street lights forming halos as his vision doubled. His attacker stood there and watched, and Dean wanted to say something — yell, ask her what she wanted, but… the pain. The pain was excruciating.  Blackness crept along the edges of his vision. He fell backwards, body hitting the ground. This was not how he’d planned on going. He needed… there was so much work to do. He couldn’t die. Not now. Dean’s vision wavered and he knew he was about to lose his battle soon. His attacker was still there, unmoving like a marble statue, and he wondered if she was having her fun.  Moments later, she finally opened her mouth. “Goodbye, Dean Winchester,” she said, while starting to walk away from his misery. Her suit-clad form trembled in the blurriness of his diminishing vision. He listened to her footsteps recede, and wondered if anyone from the bar might help him. Maybe if someone came out of there… A fluttering sound, like the flapping of giant wings. Footsteps, and a gravelly voice that spoke. “You are not supposed to be here, Sister.” A sigh, and Dean’s assailant replied. “And are you?” “Yes.” There was a scuffle — blows being exchanged with the answering grunts of bodies being hit, but Dean didn’t care anymore. The lights flickered some more and Dean’s vision blurred in and out as he let go, eternal bliss finally taking over his body. Maybe this is where Dad was… maybe Dean would finally find him now. More footsteps. Dean flinched, consciousness whittling away. He could see the shadow of someone bending over him as his eyes closed and made way to the inky blackness.  Suddenly, there were warm hands on him, his shoulders. “Dean?” It was that gravelly voice again. The same strange pair of hands also cupped his face, gentle but firm, a light behind Dean’s eyelids. Maybe the demon would have enough mercy to kill him now. He could hear a high-pitched ringing. This was it. This was it. The pain vanished as suddenly as it had started. Wait, what?  Dean was just barely able to open his eyes in time to see a shadowy figure over him, electric blue eyes glowing in the moonlight. He tried to sit up but his saviour held Dean’s left shoulder in a firm grip, coaxing him to lie down again.  “Rest, Dean,” he said, his voice so strong that it almost reverberated. Then he stood up and started to leave. Dean’s eyes fluttered as he saw his saviour walk away with his cape billowing behind him — was that really a cape? Clearly, he had lost a lot of blood, because he had to be imagining this. He had to be dreaming of how the street lights burst along the man’s path, showering him in sparks until he was gone, eventually vanishing into the night.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

[collegetennisoriginstory]

So, I was romancing Sam on every playthrough but decided to branch out finally, and now I have a tier list; ‼️Potential spoilers‼️

Tobin: By far my favorite RO. I typically don't like the archetype of "brooding ro and their charming ro counterpart" It just doesn't interest me as someone who has seen a lot of het romances employ this trope. But giving Tobin the chance they deserve and finding that I like how they respond to my MC's own flirtatious nature and then discovering how they feel about my MC being the same gender, just adds an extra layer of interest for me that I appreciated. They're kind, considerate, and very thoughtful of their friends. Very quickly blew the rest of the competition out of the water for me. I think their mindset when it comes to tennis explains why they're not the no.1 Seed despite being the captain of the team, and it honestly surprised me. I think the full weight of their route is explored best when MC is similarly looking to go pro as it parallels Rayyan nicely. Their kidness is the space they give you is born from experience and the fear of doing to MC what was done to them and I just eat that stuff up. Also it is very rare to have a black RO who is treated with any level of depth, and I just 🥹love that we Tobin.

Rayyan: In a surprise twist, Rayyan gets the second spot for similar reasons as Tobin. I think the enemies to friends to lovers(partners) arc that is presented in their story is intriguing. Like Sam, they have a level of history with the MC that makes them familiar when heading into the new space, so I made it a habit to stay near them when at all possible. Rayyan isn't particularly cold, or as cold as ppl might assume, I think they have a very good balance of being a sort of quiet and reserved person that still manages to be personable. I feel that playing like I do, my MC might've come off as flippant to them, which only adds to the anxiety that they feel going into this season. Their struggle of being visually Arab in a world and country that sees non whiteness as punishable is very felt. It's really special to me that the two most prominent ROs are dark skinned people of color. Sorry for being biased, but even when I wasn’t actively romancing them, they got major points for that.

Sam: My baby gets the third spot and I think that's fair. What i adored about Sam is the pining of a friends to lovers story. I never make the first move with Sam, despite playing very flirty, bc I see my MC with not having to put up a front with Sam. So the things they do or say that signify to others that my MC is looking for something physical aren't used with Sam; they believe MCs closeness with them is strictly platonic while my MC believes that Sam has been lightly rejecting this whole time. Just something about those missed connections get to me. (Also, the varcity jackets!? So cute) Now, Sam loses points due to being away at another university for a majority of the story thys far. Which made me wonder if placing them in a new environment with MC might change things for them. Everything IS different now; so, who is to say that their relationship hasn't run its course? Juicy, but due to lack of presence, I'll keep them at 3rd.

G: They're French. Automatically, a point is taken off. They're also very sexy as a woman (my MC is a they/them lesbian) so I felt that, to remain true to character, I would have to ignore that and see what G has going on. Ngl, they do sort of play out like a romance novel character in the most obvious way so far 😭 no hate though. I just couldn't not think about "Oh, you sexy French student." Whenever they said anything. Smoldering looks from across the room at a crowded college party, like okay 400 days of summer <3. I think they're rather perfect for players who are looking for some steam outside of the locker room. They have the same issue as Sam, as in, they're not present in the locker room. They're not our teammate, so we don't really get the same level of relationship building with them as u would a Rayyan or Tobin. And I don't think that's a bad thing necessarily. I feel that speaks to the amount of work put in to make the team feel real and not just thrown together characters. Once I started to romance my teammates, I found it hard to flirt with anyone else, as I felt that they just didn't understand my MC on the same level.

Felix: ngl, they'd have to get security to get me off them, I have this burning rage in my heart whenever they show up. "🤼‍♂️ This is for Tobin, Cakepop‼️" I am sure there is indeed depth to them as a character, I am sure it hurts to hear someone say "I can not love you the way you want me to." And we are only human, we don't always behave the way we want to. But Felix makes my nipple itch they just remind me of men who just hold this anger for their exes unreasonably. I think there is an interesting parallel to be found in a Tobin route MC and Felix. I just don't have the language to put it together bc I will never romance them and I don't think I ever will, personally just can't bring myself to do so. They are what I felt Rayyan would be, and I'm fine with meeting them with hostility.

All in all, I'm glad I branched out to see what the other ROs were like it's definitely a testament to ur hard work and is greatly appreciated. I will continue to be messy and kiss Tobin, Rayyan, and Sam because I am toxic aim to be a learning experience, not a lover 🫶🏽

Oh my god~ It was so interesting to see your gradual evolution / journey through pursuing the different ROs.

I think it's really interesting in particular to see how Tobin's character is sort of 'hidden' beneath multiple layers, and you have to really work at unpeeling those layers, and it's really rewarding as a writer to see that route 'give' readers so much unexpected joy.

And, of course — I have a soft spot for stoic / unexpressive, overly-competitive, serious characters who are secretly just a giant sap. For Rayyan in particular, I think their drive to excel at tennis is counter-balanced against their loyalty, their ride-or-die-ness with the people they love. I love the extra bit of psychoanalysis that you did regarding Rayyan's anxiety about MC not taking tennis seriously, which is fine on its own, but really becomes an issue if they're partnered.

Sam having less 'screen-time' than the others is totally fair, and I think (or hope) will be made up for by the sheer amount of history they share.

As for the whole "French sexy" stereotype, I actually do think this is a crucial part of G's arc. The idea that perhaps they both see each other as 'archetypes' at the start (the jock-fling during one's exchange year, the sexy french exchange student), and then as they start understanding each other as real people, and then as they start (possibly) falling in love with each other (with all the eccentricities, all the imperfections), the relationship takes on more depth and dimension.

Finally, thank you so much for taking the time to explore all these different routes, and I'm so glad that doing so was rewarding for you :) I absolutely loved reading this message, so thank you also for sharing! It's always so fun listening to how different MCs, or different MC choices, and just different readers in general — have different takes on the ROs!

[sidekick-hero]

I didn’t know that it could be easy

(steddie | rating: t | wc: 3.071 | cw: none | Part 2 to this one | tags: Christmas Day, modern au, found family, marriage proposal, fluff | @steddiemas prompt "Christmas Day")

When the wonderful @sentient-trash sent me this beautiful steddie art I knew I needed to write something for it. So why not fix the heartbreak I caused with this ficlet here? Thank you again, Simon, I love your art so much 💜💜

"It has to be perfect, Wayne. Do you hear me? Perfect."

Eddie knows he's overthinking this, obsessing over things that probably won't matter in the end, like the color of the tablecloth or whether the scented candles smell like cinnamon or vanilla. It's just...this is Steve and he needs this to be perfect because Steve deserves nothing less. Eddie almost screwed up this thing between them once, and he's been terrified of doing it again ever since.

It's a miracle and a half that they've made it this far. Their third Christmas as a couple, living together in their cozy apartment with their cat Garfield and their dog Bowie. That they made it to the point where Eddie has a ring hidden between his Dnd dice set, waiting to be placed on Steve's hand if he wants it.

God, what if he doesn't want it?

Because four years ago, Eddie had foolishly pined for Steve. Worst of all, he’d done so after pushing the other man away himself after a drunken night together early in their friendship slash roommateship. At the time, he'd thought his feelings had been one-sided, telling himself he'd done it so he wouldn't lose Steve completely. Eddie had never been the kind of guy you would choose to be with after a quick tumble in the sheets, so why would someone as sweet and funny and gorgeous as Steve?

As he discusses his plans for the evening with his uncle, so goddamn determined to make it the perfect Christmas for his boyfriend, he thinks back to their fight that had almost ended it all. Steve had been with someone else after Eddie had made it clear that their night together had been a drunken mistake and that he wanted them to be friends. Eddie had been dying inside, even as he tried to be happy for Steve. Things had come to a head when Eddie had come home and found Steve and his boyfriend Sam making out on the couch. He had reacted badly and Steve had followed Eddie to his room and confronted him about his behavior.

God, he can still see Steve's face, the tears forming in Steve's eyes as he told Eddie that he couldn't do it anymore, watching Eddie disappear before his eyes. Telling him that he fucking missed him. Steve's boyfriend had interrupted their fight before anything else could be said, and Eddie had left their apartment to wander aimlessly through the night.

"Don't forget the pecan pie, it's his favorite. And the banana ice cream. Yeah, I know I hate banana everything, but it's his guilty pleasure. I made some toffee and caramel beans to put in it and some chocolate topping and whipped cream to go with it, so - I don't know why you’re laughing at me, but I don't have time for this, he'll be back from walking Bowie any minute and I still have to put the presents under the tree. Just. Will you help me make this the best Christmas he'll ever remember? Please?"

He's an anxious mess, and he knows his uncle can tell, because instead of teasing him further, he just confirms in a warm and gruff voice that he will help Eddie make this the best Christmas for his boy. They end the call and Eddie rushes into their shared office and recreation room. It is actually Steve's old room from when they were roommates instead of boyfriends. Nowadays it's used as a guest room when one of their friends or his uncle sleeps over, and as a storage room for all the stuff they don't want lying around the apartment taking up space.

It's also where they keep the Christmas presents.

Eddie carefully carries them over to their Christmas tree and places them underneath it. All except one, which he puts in his pocket. Playing with the simple gold band in his pocket, Eddie couldn't help but think back to that night over three years ago.

He had snuck into their dark apartment, assuming that Steve was staying at Sam's to avoid Eddie. He had decided to tell Steve the truth about his feelings during his long walk, rehearsing what he would say, playing out a hundred different scenarios. Still, he hadn't been prepared to find Steve lying on Eddie's bed, apparently asleep while waiting for him, with Eddie's favorite hoodie clutched to his chest.

The sight had hit him hard, making his breath catch in his lungs and his heart stutter in his chest. He had just stood there for what seemed like hours, watching Steve's sleeping form on his bed. Steve had looked worried, even in his sleep, a slight crease between his eyebrows and the hand holding his sweater had been clenched into a tight fist. His whole body was hunched up as tight as it could be, his knees pressed against his chest as if protecting himself from the cold and empty room. That was what finally made Eddie move.

He went back into the living room and grabbed the afghan off the couch before making his way over to Steve. But as he placed the blanket over the sleeping form, Steve had stirred.

"Eddie?" He had mumbled, his voice slurred with sleep.

Unable to help himself, Eddie had knelt by his side and started to stroke his hair. "Yeah, it's me. Go back to sleep, Stevie. We'll talk in the morning, 'kay?"

But when he had tried to get up, he had been stopped by Steve's hand on his arm, his eyes searching Eddie's with surprising clarity. "Stay. Please."

Maybe it was the late hour or the emotional exhaustion. Maybe it was because Eddie had no fight left in him to deny himself or Steve what they both obviously wanted. Maybe it was just the way Steve had looked at him, the memory of the tears in those eyes still clear in Eddie's mind. Whatever it was, Eddie had just slipped out of his jeans before crawling onto the bed right behind Steve, pushing the sheets out from under them to pull them over their heads. With their bodies pressed together and Steve in his arms, they had both fallen asleep.

The next morning they'd woken up late, still tangled under Eddie's blanket. Everything had been warm and hazy, perfect really. When he felt Eddie stir behind him, Steve had rolled over in his arms and they had just looked at each other for a long moment before Eddie had broken the silence between them.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I don't even know where to begin to tell you how sorry I am."

Steve had just taken his hand, his thumb caressing the back of it in small circles, and it had given Eddie the courage to go on.

He told Steve all the things he had been too afraid to say before.

They had talked for a long time. Steve telling him how much he had wanted Eddie that night, drunk or sober, that he had liked him for a while and had hoped they would get together afterwards. But then Eddie had called it a mistake and asked Steve to be friends. So he'd tried, but he'd never gotten over Eddie. Sam had known that Steve was nursing a broken heart when they got together, and after seeing how Eddie had reacted to their relationship and how it had gutted Steve to see Eddie pull away, he had put two and two together. He wished Steve good luck, but said he couldn't wait for Steve to get over someone who clearly wanted him back.

"I fucked up bad, huh?" Eddie had asked with a pained smile, looking at their intertwined hands between them. He couldn't believe that Steve was still here, holding him close and lifting their joined hands to his lips to plant a soft kiss on the back of Eddie's.

"Kind of. But I think we can fix this."

"And how do you suggest we do that, oh wise one?" Eddie had asked, hope blossoming in his chest at the warmth of Steve's smile.

Pulling Eddie impossibly close, Steve whispered against his lips, "Would you just kiss me, you idiot?"

Eddie had never been happier to be called an idiot, as it led to them exchanging soft kisses that soon became more heated, tongues sliding against each other to take each other's moans right out of their mouths.

When they finally stumbled into their kitchen, it was late noon, but that didn't stop them from making breakfast together before spending the day lounging on their couch, exchanging kisses and soft whispers of how happy they were to finally be here.

That day, Eddie had vowed to work hard to never let something so precious slip through his fingers again.

Since then, they'd adopted a grumpy orange-and-white cat with one eye and a mutt, moved Steve's stuff into Eddie's room ("Because that's where we finally got our shit together, Eds"), and Wayne had all but adopted Steve into the Munson family. Robin, Steve's best friend, had taken a little longer to warm up to Eddie because she had a front row seat to Steve's heartbreak thanks to Eddie being an idiot. But she had come around, as had Steve's little brother Dustin, who was away at college, a fact Steve didn't take too well. So Eddie had invited Dustin and his mother, as well as Robin, without telling Steve, hoping it would be the perfect surprise for him.

As if his thoughts had summoned them, the doorbell rang, alerting Eddie to the arrival of his guests. Opening the door with a flourish, he found Dustin and his mother standing there, along with two large suitcases.

"The Hendersons! Welcome to our humble abode, please come in." Eddie greets them cheerfully before leading them into the warm and cozy apartment.

He gets them settled in their guest room and is about to make them both some hot cocoa when the doorbell rings again, this time revealing Robin and his uncle, who happen to have arrived at the same time. They also gather in the kitchen, with Wayne taking over the cocoa duties. They all shove more presents into his arms, which he dutifully places under the tree as well. And in a wider circle around it, because holy shit, that's a lot of presents.

The only thing missing is Steve, who takes their dog for long walks whenever he has the time and hasn't been back yet.

Wayne is in the middle of telling a rather embarrassing story from Eddie's childhood, which the man himself tries to stop, but to no avail, when he is saved by the sound of a key turning in the lock of their front door. Eddie mimes for everyone to be quiet as he makes his way to the door as quickly as possible.

"Stevie, light of my life, you're back!" Eddie calls out in excitement as soon as the door opens to reveal his boyfriend and their dog.

Steve, on his knees letting Bowie off the leash, looks up at Eddie with suspicion. "What have you done now?"

"I'm wounded, Steven. Wounded! Why do you accuse me of some unknown crime before you even give me a kiss?"

Steve grabs Eddie by the collar of his Christmas sweater and pulls him in for a kiss, smiling so hard it can hardly be called that. "Because you get extra loud and dramatic when you're trying to hide something. So what have you been doing?"

"A special Christmas surprise, honey." Mrs. Henderson speaks up, making Steve whip his head around to face her.

"Claudia?" And then his eyes land on the other guests gathered in their kitchen. "Dustin? Robin? What...why? How? I thought you had to spend Christmas with your parents, Robs?"

"That was all Eddie. He arranged for all of us to come here and spend the evening with you. I have to leave later to drive over to my parents, but not for another four hours or so."

After hearing Robin's words, Steve slowly turns back to Eddie, and this time the tears in his eyes are from happiness, not heartbreak.

"Eddie," is all he says before he slams into him, his arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and his face nestled in his favorite spot just above Eddie's collarbone. "I love you." Steve whispers, his voice choked with emotion.

"I love you too, Stevie," Eddie whispers back, right into Steve's ear, the words meant just for him.

After that, they all gather around the improvised dining table Wayne had set up. It is a simple construction with another table the same height as their kitchen table, so they could push them together and decorate them with a large tablecloth to make it look like one. They eat the roast Steve had prepared, everyone praising his cooking skills, making him blush and his eyes glow with pride.

For dessert they have pecan pie, much to Steve's delight. "Eddie insisted it had to be pecan," Wayne reveals, earning Eddie a wet kiss on the cheek from Steve.

"You're spoiling me, Eds."

"It's not spoiling when you deserve it. Besides, the pie is for everyone, it just happens to be your favorite." Eddie deflects, suddenly self-conscious. Maybe he'd overdone it, just a little, in his quest for the perfect night. But what is it they say? In for a penny and all that. "I might have something just for you, though."

Before Steve has a chance to say anything to that, Eddie is already up from the table to get the ice cream from the kitchen. By the time he comes out with it, everyone has stuffed themselves with the pie, leaving none for Eddie. Putting the ice cream in front of Steve, he complains loudly about it. "That's how you thank me, I see. Scoundrels, all of you."

A plate with a large slice of pie is placed in front of him. "I saved you a slice, baby."

Eddie presses both hands to his heart and pretends to melt. "Aw, you do love me."

Instead of answering, Steve just kisses him before looking down at the bowl in front of him. "What's that?"

"Banana ice cream with toffee and caramel beans, topped with whipped cream and chocolate sauce."

Steve plunges the spoon into the creation and takes a big bite, letting out a moan that's downright pornographic. "Oh God, please marry me."

Across from them, Wayne nearly chokes on his coffee at Steve's words, and Eddie gives him a warning glare. Wayne is the only one in on Eddie's plan, which Eddie begins to regret. But he needed someone to organize some things, especially the custom-made rings.

After dinner, everyone gathers around the tree, including Garfield and Bowie. Garfield is sitting on Claudia's lap, having taken an instant liking to her, while Bowie is sleeping at Wayne's feet. As usual when their little family gets together, the gift exchange is a cheerful and chaotic affair. Eddie gets new guitar strings from Robin, a new set of custom-made Dnd dice from Dustin and Claudia, and Garfield slippers from Wayne, as well as a can of motor oil with the promise to change Eddie's oil together next weekend. Steve's gift, however, was the most treasured: two tickets to a Metallica concert right here in Chicago.

Throughout the night, Wayne had been taking pictures of everything, claiming that they would be glad to have some memories later on. So when all of the presents have been handed out, he leads Steve and Eddie over to the tree for a picture.

"We need Garfield and Bowie here, too, if it's a family photo," Steve exclaims, his cheeks rosy from equal parts eggnog and joy. "Come here, Bowie. Good boy." Bowie, who is just as much of a sucker for Steve as Eddie is, promptly follows. Eddie knows that Garfield would not be so easily persuaded, so he walks over to Claudia, plucks him from her lap, and places him at Steve's feet.

What Steve doesn't know is that this is all part of Eddie's plan. The two pose in front of the tree with Bowie between them and Garfield weaving between Steve's legs. Just as Wayne's about to take the picture, Eddie turns to Steve and, seemingly outta nowhere, grabs a Santa's hat and puts it on Steve's head. "There you go, now you look all dressed up for the occasion."

"How...where did you hide that?"

"Pulled it out of my ass. You better check to see if I have any more Christmas stuff stashed there later, big boy."

Eddie can't know it yet, but he hopes Wayne captured the exact moment Steve's face scrunched up in surprised laughter. But even if he hadn't, Eddie hadn't been able to tear his eyes away from it anyway, as he memorized every single detail of that very moment.

As his laughter subsides, Steve opens his eyes again to look over at Eddie, only to find him kneeling with his hand outstretched and something small on his palm. A simple golden ring.

"Oh my God."

More than one gasp of surprise could be heard from those around, but the only person whose reaction matters to Eddie is Steve. Who looks at Eddie with big, shining eyes and an open mouth, completely taken by surprise.

"Steve, I have rehearsed this a million times and I still do not have the words to tell you what you mean to me. What our life together means to me. I love you so much it scares me, because surely people aren't supposed to feel that much, but I do. And I want to be scared every single day for the rest of my life because it means I get to love you. I get to cherish you and laugh with you and take care of our furry kids together, and Steve, sweetheart, I want to marry you and promise you forever. And I can't wait for nothing to change, because the life we have is already perfect. And if that didn't make any sense to you, I'm really sorry. The most important thing is that I love you. So, Steve Harrington, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?"

Steve has tears streaming down his cheeks, but he’s smiling. In fact, he’s smiling so big it has to hurt, and when he kisses him, all Eddie can taste is happiness and love. After that, Steve peppers his whole face with kisses, each one pressing another "Yes" into his skin.

Their love story might not have begun like a perfect fairy tale, and Eddie had no idea if it would end like one. But the middle? It was pretty damn perfect, if you asked him.

[cryptidsnackpack]

Sam Coe Pining HC’s:

First off… this man PINES. NSFW under the cut so 18+ intrepid explorers only. GN Dusty/Captain. I have this Dusty having the Neon City Street Rat background in this one (bc that’s what I have and I love it). I just want to take care of this man like DAMN.

When he first sets eyes on you, he has a to take a half-step back. He’s glad Cora swooped in with the assist, babbling about how excited she was to join them on the Frontier. It took him a half second longer than he would have liked to compose himself. He scolds himself… Now is not the time to get distracted.

But hell are you distracting. Sam can count on his hand the times in his life when he has felt taken care of, but damn do you do it well. “Sam are you running low on ammo? Have you eaten today? How much water have you had? That last planet was brutal”. Sometimes you’ll place a chaste hand to his shoulder to check in on him, and that touch almost sends him into cardiac arrest.

It’s not just the way you take care of him either, it’s Cora too. When you happily slapped credits into the little girl’s palm for her book allowance, and then suggested a trip to Sinclair’s the next time you touch down on Akila? He knew he was done for.

You’re always thinking of them, and something long hidden inside him breaks at finally being seen, finally been someone’s first priority. “Everyone okay back there?!Cora? Sam?”. The dogfight had been a hairy one, they’d need to stop at Neon immediately for repairs. The Captain’s voice shook over the comm. They’d check them both over, double and triple check that they didn’t get hurt. “Cora’s walking okay right? She’s not limping, right?” Anxiety punches the words out of the Captain’s chest, like their coughing them out. “She’s alright Cap” he settles a comforting hand on your arm. He imagines he can feel the heat from your skin in his palm all day.

Neon was hell. Usually he liked the city for what it was, but watching you? Watching everyone ELSE watching you? Hell. You knew your way around, and every few steps it seemed some old friend was pulling you away for conversation. You’d slip your hand into his, or wrap an arm around his waist to pull him along, make sure he wasn’t getting lost in the flow of foot traffic. And every time he tried to get a little closer, hold you just a little longer.

You two were meeting an old contact in The Astral Lounge. He was no stranger to the Lounge, but it felt different this time. He was jumpy, felt predatory. You’d donned some Neon City threads, a tight, darkly colored tunic that dipped past your collarbone and accentuated the muscle definition in your arms. And everyone in the Lounge seemed to be fixated on you. He edged closer to you. Thighs brushing. As if you could sense his tension, you settled a hand on his knee. He rested an arm on the back of the booth to steady himself, but you took it as a cue. You wrapped his arm around your shoulders, leaning into his chest. “This alright cowboy?” Your voice is low and rich, he leans forward to catch it and nods.

The glint in your eye, the way your lips curled mischievously up at his dumbstruck expression. You knew he wanted you. Of course you knew. “You know” He’s never heard anything sweeter, “I still have access to a corporate apartment here in the building… we could. Sorry that was ah, maybe-” You faltered, stuttering over your own words. Were you nervous? Why were YOU nervous? He kisses your forehead. It’s quick, impulsive and incredibly tender. It doesn’t necessarily match the mood, but the warm goofy smile you flash his way makes up for it.

You ride the crowded elevator in silence. Your ass pressed into his crotch. You grind back against him and he grips your shoulder in warning, and as a way to steady himself. “Not gunna lose your cool are you cowboy?” You turn to look at him over your shoulder, eyes cat-like. He’s not a man prone to PDA, but he takes off his hat to shield both of your faces from the surrounding crowd. He grips your jaw tightly, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. You moan into it, caught of guard, and he can hear a few people in the elevator tittering with good natured laughter.

You look startled by the intensity of your own body’s reaction, but quickly pull him from the elevator at your next stop. His hands are everywhere. Grazing your sides under the tunic, plucking at the waistband of your pants. “Is this okay? This is okay right?” He whispers against the shell of your ear. You nod frantically, your fingers flying over the apartments keypad lock.

He was being ravaged. He was coming to the realization, that he Sam Coe, had never been ravaged before. The sheets were slick with sweat underneath him, but all he could focus on was your mouth. Sweetly sucking the flesh of his thighs, licking a path from nipple to ear lobe. “I have been dreaming about this since we first met.” Your voice is shaking, your hands are shaking. But your tongue is steady when you guide his length down your throat. Your eyes glint up at him as the golden brown curls around his base tickle your nose.

He doesn’t mean to cum in your mouth. His moan sounds like a sob and he fists his hands into the sheets until he swears he can hear the fibers squeak. “Shit I’m sorry I meant to- I didn’t mean to… so early and I- it’s been a really, really long time”

You’re by his ear again. Whispering, your voice is low and soothing and fingers are lazily dancing across his skin. “You did so good Sam. That’s exactly what I wanted”. Your nails are scratching his scalp and his eyelids feel uncomfortably heavy. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, and I expect you to fuck the shit out of me Mr. Coe”. His barking laughter rouses him up a bit, enough to kiss you. He tastes himself on your lips. “I think I can arrange that Captain”.

[elliewithcellie]

Long Cool Woman - Chapter 2

chapter summary: The boys ask you on your first hunt, but nothing is as cut and dry as they made it out to be.

wc: 3.9k

cw: fem!reader, a lot of dressing room action, brief body insecurity, pining Sam, oblivious reader. Tame chapter:)

a/n: Time for a shopping montage and some flustered!Sam action lmao. Find the rest of the story here

A year had passed since moving in with the Winchesters. You weren’t provided as kind a welcome as Bobby had given you. You missed him. In the years you stayed with him, he gave you a semblance of the family you longed for. The brothers were less accommodating in the beginning.

Dean treated you like you were a nuisance at first. It was as if you were an obligation, an unwanted child. You weren’t a child and didn’t have to stay under his supervision. Those first two weeks dragged on, and he refused to look at you. When you finally confronted him, the screaming match began. It wasn’t until you threatened to leave that he reined himself back in, a rare apology taking place. Dean softened up to you shortly after.

Sam was kinder but distant. Unlike his brother, he did what he could to make your transition comfortable, but everyone was grieving Bobby in their own way. His grieving seemed to result in his studies. Bobby’s collection of books paled in comparison to what this library contained, which intrigued you to no end. You found yourself reading alongside Sam for hours, content in the silent companionship beginning to form.

Your reality crashed down on you when the brothers left for their hunts. Nothing was your own anymore. Just when you had a place to call home again, someone to call family again, it was all swept away. Your loneliness was amplified in the bunker. Every sound scraped against your skin, even as simple as opening your bedroom door. Your clothes were hand-me-downs either from Sherriff Mills or the boys. Your bedroom was a military bunk. Nothing was your own. It was devastating to not only lose everyone you’ve ever had but also lose yourself in the process.

It wasn’t until Sam called mid-hunt for your help that you began to gain some confidence back. To be valued as useful and intelligent helped build your worth up bit by bit. And before long, your rapport with the brothers grew as well.

******

As the three of you drove to your first hunt, you couldn’t help but contemplate your dream from the night before. The flashing black eyes, the devastation of your family laying to waste. The memories clung to you like a moth to a lantern, almost sadistic in its repetition. You had pressured the boys into letting you join this time, insistent that you were ready. But your body felt the opposite this morning. You felt sick, physically incapable.

Music from the radio disrupted your thoughts. You sat up from the backseat and nestled in between the boys. Sam had since dozed off in the passenger seat, and Dean switched through radio stations.

The Impala rolled to a stop. A diner about as greasy as any other flickered in the growing sunlight. The three of you headed in and ordered breakfast.

Trepidation settled in your stomach as the three of you waited for your food. You didn’t know anything about the hunt. The boys were quiet, eyes shifting between each other in their nonverbal communication you were still learning to decipher.

“Spill,” you said.

“Huh?”

“Spill what?” Dean said, his mouth full.

“You’re both hiding something from me. What is it we’re going after? What made you agree that you could use me on this hunt? Just last month you refused because you were ‘worried for my safety.’”

“Well,” Sam paused. “Ok. What we want from you may seem unconventional.”

“Oh please. There’s no way it could be that weird, considering…” You gestured vaguely around the table.

“She’s not gonna do it,” Dean said, seemingly more interested in his meal than the conversation.

“Do what?” you asked.

“It’s the only way to lure the ghost, Dean.”

“Can you guys just tell me already?” Your raised voice pulled them from their bickering.

Sam sighed. “We are going to use you as bait.”

“Okay, what do I need to do?”

“There’s a ghost going around killing potential Miss America contestants,” Sam began.

“We need you to be in the Miss America pageant.” Dean grinned ear to ear. “Can you picture it, Sammy? Surrounded by some of the hottest women in America. Oh, I can’t wait.”

Your jaw dropped. Of all the fears you had walking into this trip, nothing could have prepared you for this particular plan of operation.

“You’re telling me,”—you took a deep breath to keep your cool— “that I need to pull a Miss Congeniality and flaunt in front of thousands of people, so you two can find a could-actually-be-no-ghost ghost?”

Sam and Dean looked at each other.

“Yeah.”

“Basically.”

“I’ll be honest,” you began, “there’s no way this will work. How are you gonna get me in? How am I gonna compete with these girls? I don’t know anything about this!”

“We’re not asking you to win,” Dean sighed, seemingly sincere this time.

Sam reached across the table, his hand grazing yours before pulling away slightly. “Listen. We already have you signed up. You are officially Miss Vermont. I’m sure all you have to do is follow the other girls, okay?”

“You have to know this is literally insane.”

“So, you’ll do it then?” Sam asked.

“Like I have a choice,” you muttered.

“Then it’s settled,” Dean said. “Finish up so we can get back on the road.”

The three of you quickly ate and headed back on the road toward the pageant.

******

A few hours later, you all arrived in Memphis, Tennessee. You couldn’t help the frustration growing in the pit of your stomach. This is what they needed you for this entire time? You thought you were going to help in the search. You had grown anxious over your first hunt, and they wanted you to perform like a little boy toy? And not to mention the obvious, but did they not realize you weren’t Miss America material? All you had known for the last several years were men—no makeup routine, curly updo practices, not a blow-dryer in sight. You were reminded of your mom teaching you how to apply mascara at 13. Your heart longed for her, now. You needed your mom.

Dean pulled up to a fancy hotel called The Grandeur, a huge improvement from the sketchy motels the boys usually opted for. The parking lot was filled with cars hitched to RVs and trailers, and Dean circled three times to find a spot before reluctantly parking on the side of the road. The three of you grabbed your things and walked to the front entrance. Dean opened the door to the lobby revealing girls everywhere. Models from every corner of the United States with teams of people following their every move littered the lobby.

“Alright, well, you guys check in, I’ll be back…” and before he finished, Dean walked over to a tall Brunette. You and Sam shared a look of disdain and continued to the front desk.

“Hi,” Sam began. “We are here for the pageant. We—”

 “Under what name, please, sir?” the lady at the front desk interrupted.

“Hicks.”

“Well, Mr. Hicks, you are in room 219. Here is your key card and the itinerary for the following week. Please let us know if you have any requests. Don’t forget, we serve a continental breakfast from seven to eleven!”

“Thank you,” Sam said. You grabbed the key and turned around to find Dean receiving a strip of paper and a flirtatious wave goodbye.

You scoffed at the sight. He returned to you both with the look of a boy in a candy shop. It was funny how his best day ever could coincide with one of your worst. All you could do was sigh as you three found your room.

“Sam, I think this is the best idea we've had yet,” Dean said as he fell back onto a bed.

“Can we talk about a plan?” you asked, settling into the desk chair. “I’m getting really worried that you guys just showed up to meet pretty women. I’d at least like a game plan.”

Sam sat on the edge of the bed across from you. “If it’s a ghost like we think it is, it should be pretty cut and dry.”

“Because we’re us, we can’t just walk around like we own the place,” Dean said. “So, if something happens somewhere we can’t get to, you’re there to handle it discreetly. It’s just like we practiced. You’ve got this.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t explain this before,” Sam said, his eyes sympathetic. “It’s the only way we knew to help, but it puts you in the toughest position.”

You sighed. “No, it makes sense.” You looked down, twisting at your hands in your lap. “You—you will be there if I need, like, backup, right?”

“Of course!” Dean said. “We’re not hanging you out to dry, here.”

“We’ve got you, ok?” Sam said.

You looked up at them both. Sam seemed as sincere as ever, and Dean looked serious for the first time today. You nodded. Then a devastating realization crossed your mind.

“Ok, this is great and all, but have we considered that Miss America is like a full-on pageant? Like full ball gowns and makeup and all that?”

“Do you have any of that with you?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, let me just pull out my full-length gown.” You rolled your eyes. “We are so brutally unprepared. You all realize that?”

“Wow, I guess we didn’t think that far,” said Sam.

“Not to mention,” you continued, “these girls have, like trained professionals for hair and makeup. They have been training their whole life to be beautiful. How do you expect me to just show up to this thing blending in with these legitimate models?”

The boys looked at each other, some unspoken words exchanged, and shrugging shoulders the only response they could muster up.

You sighed. “It’s fine. We’ll figure it out. Just, what are we gonna do about everything we need?”

 “I guess we got some shopping to do,” Dean grumbled.

******

Half an hour later, the three of you headed inside the nearest mall. The mall was swarming, infested with teen boys and girls, moms pushing crabby baby-filled strollers, and elderly folks moving at the speed of molasses. You hadn’t seen this many people in the last eight years combined. It took everything in you to stop from walking directly back to the parking lot. But the brothers were determined.

“Ok,” Sam began, “so based on the itinerary, there are three segments: two dresses and one swimsuit section.”

Your jaw dropped. “Swimsuits. I forgot about the swimsuits.”

“Sorry,” he said softly.

“How about you give us a list of what you need, we split up, and we all meet here when we’re done?” Dean said.

“It’s not that easy,” you shook your head, nearing defeat before you began. “I haven’t been to a store since high school. I’m positive I’m not the size I was as a kid. And even if I did know my size, it’s not like men’s jeans going by, like, inches. Every store is going to be different. And if we want to make this convincing, we can’t just pick something that works. It has to be competitive. It has to look the part. So, I have to try these things on piece by piece until we find something convincing enough to make it through.”

The boys suddenly looked like they hadn’t slept in days.

“Listen,” you sighed, “I’ll handle this. You guys can, I guess do research or something. I don’t know.”

“No, no, it’s ok. We signed you up for this. We can help,” Sam said with a guilty smile on his face.

“Besides,” Dean continued, “someone’s gotta give an unbiased opinion.”

He raised a decent point. You exhaled a breath as a small wave of relief washed over you. “Ok. Let’s get this over with.”

The three of you walked around until you stumbled across a store with floor-length dresses in the window.

“In here,” Sam said.

“Welcome to Lovely Ladies Boutique. Let me know if you need anything,” the lady at the register muttered, completely unenthused. You stopped in your tracks. Thousands of dresses lined the store. The array of colors and sizes invaded your senses, the realization hitting you for the first time today. You were going to be in the most prestigious pageant in America. You took a deep breath.

“You ok?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. It’s just a lot to take in.”

Dean wasted no time as he approached a small black dress so low cut, you were sure it would leave nothing to the imagination.

“Sam? Can you come with me and help me pick something out? I’m afraid of what Dean is grabbing over there.”

Sam chuckled. “Of course. I’m following you.” You walked to the back of the store and picked a few items. After half an hour of scouring your options, Dean returned with a pile of dresses.

“Alright. I think it’s time you try some on,” Dean said.

You took each pile from the boys and headed to the dressing room.

“Remember, you need a long dress and a short dress,” Sam called out.

“Got it.” As you tried on your first dress, the thought of them on the other side of the curtain loomed over you. You fought your rising embarrassment. You silently scolded yourself. You were all adults here, and lives were at stake. You willed yourself to move forward, trying on over thirty dresses.

You had forgotten the dread of trying on clothes. Seeing your body in something unflattering deflated your self-image no matter how secure you were to begin with. What was worse was showing each one to the boys. They remained polite throughout the process, but you were sure they could sense your discomfort. Everyone’s patience waned. Finally, a navy dress that landed above your knee fit you like it was made for you. You left the dressing room with a fresh wave of energy.

“Woah,” the boys said simultaneously.

Their words took you aback. Pink grazed your cheeks. “This one’s good, right?”

“More than good,” Sam said, his eyes widening as they darted from you to his lap.

Dean watched the color drain from Sam’s face with a smirk on his face. “Yeah, it’s perfect. Toss that one over, so we don’t lose it. One down!”

You returned to your search, a small smile forming on your face. A few dresses later, you tried on a light pink floor-length gown. You walked out one last time.

“Well?” you asked.

The boys nodded emphatically. “Do a spin,” Dean said, a teasing smile on his face.

“I’m not doing a spin,” you said, hands on your hips. “So, this one is good, too?”

“I think so,” Dean said. “Sam?”

He let out a breath and nodded. “Yep, should be good.”

“Finally,” you said. “Let’s get out of here.”

The three of you walked out of the store breathing in the fresh air of one thing checked off the list.

“Alright next is shoes. This should be easy,” Dean said.

His words jinxed you all. The problem wasn’t finding the shoes; it was walking in them.

“There is no way this is happening,” you grumbled as you wobbled through your test walk.

“You could just practice, I guess,” Sam sighed.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure this is the best we are gonna do, so let’s just get them,” Dean decided. You bought the shoes, each of you beginning to wither away from the process. You eventually found a store that sold swimsuits. After you all picked out different styles and sizes, you headed to the dressing room, the boys following close behind. You stopped them from joining you.

“Yeah, no,” was all you could come up with.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Dean asked.

“I’m not modeling these for you guys. Show’s over, respectfully.”

Dean huffed. “Whatever happened to our unbiased opinion? Sam, you agree, right?” Dean looked to Sam for help, but Sam didn’t deliver. His eyes were anywhere but the conversation.

“I’m pretty sure I can handle this one on my own.”

“Ok, ok,” Dean said. “At least show us what you pick. I’m kind of invested now.”

You laughed and headed into the dressing room.

This segment weighed much more heavily on you. At least a dress could cover some insecurities. A swimsuit left everything out in the open. Your stomach scars would no longer be a secret. Chills ran down your spine, but you willed yourself to continue. After trying on a few different styles, your patience wore off entirely. You decided on a classic black two-piece.

“I picked one,” you called out.

“Toss it over,” Dean said.

You did as you were told. You held your swimsuit over the door and waited for Dean to take it.

“Woah!” Dean said as he took it. “Don’t you think this is, you’re sure this one isn’t too, pardon my French, sexy?”

A dry laugh escaped you as you got dressed. “Not on me, it’s not.”

“Shut up. It’s just like, no material. It’s not too revealing for you?”

You exited the dressing room and found Dean fumbling with the strings of the two-piece. “Since when are you ‘Mr. Modesty’?” You paused. “Where’d Sam go?”

“I don’t know. Said he needed air or something. Are you sure you’re comfortable in this?”

His sincerity shocked you. The long answer was no, you weren’t comfortable. You filled with dread at the thought of people seeing you in only this swimsuit to intentionally be judged. It killed you the more you thought about it. You opted for the short answer.

“It was comfortable,” you said, hoping he wouldn’t notice the distinction of your word choice.

Dean sighed. “Let’s get out of here, then.”

You both met Sam at the entrance.

“Get a little hot in there, Sammy?” Dean teased.

“I—I wanted to save some time, so I went and found a makeup place.” Sam glared at his brother.

“Sweet,” you said. “Lead the way.”

You walked into Sephora, completely dumbfounded. You didn’t know the first thing about professional makeup. You didn’t know a step-by-step routine, or what goes where. The boys looked as clueless as you felt.

“Do you all need help with anything?” a lady with the wildest makeup you had ever seen asked.

Dean spoke up first. “Uh, yes, actually. Y/N, here, has a big dance coming up, and she just begged us to bring her here.”

You did your best to play into his antics. “Yeah, I’ve never had my makeup done before, and this guy owes me big time, so money is no object. Right, Dean?”

Dean returned your look with a matching bitch face as he handed you his credit card.

“Oh, sweet pea, how sweet of your…” the lady searched for the right word to characterize him before deciding to move on. “Well, I’d be glad to help you! Just come with me. You boys can leave us be, so we can get going!”

The lady ushered you into a chair and walked to an aisle to find some products. Through the mirror you watched Sam and Dean leave the store.

After what felt like hours of trying to figure out colors and undertones, she finished your face. You had never seen yourself so, polished. It was quite frankly amazing the work this lady had done.

“This is really good,” you found yourself saying.

“Aw, well, thank you! But you’re the true beauty here. Now, don’t forget your steps, ok? Here’s a wipe, if you’d like it, and I’ll meet you at the counter.”

As you walked to the counter, you found a curling iron for sale and decided to splurge. You bought your items for an exorbitant fee and returned to the boys.

“We did it!” Dean said with his hand in the air for a high five.

“Almost, but not quite,” you said, realization rouging your features.

“What else could there possibly be?” Dean complained.

All you could do was nod toward the store across from you. The boys followed your gaze.

“Victoria’s Secret? Really?” Dean asked.

“I don’t have anything, Dean. Sherriff Mills was helpful, but she didn’t give me everything. Just let me handle this real quick. I’m gonna take the dresses in to make sure they work together, and I’ll be out before you know it.”

You didn’t wait for an answer before trekking into the store you hadn’t visited since high school.

You gathered different styles and sizes and ventured to the dressing room. You could deduce your size, but you weren’t sure if the one that fit worked with either of the dresses. You checked yourself in the mirror. Everything in the front was well hidden. But as you turned, you couldn’t see past your shoulder to tell whether or not it was visible. You couldn’t help but think of your mom. She was always there to help you with this sort of thing.

You sighed. You pulled out your flip phone. You hated to admit it, but you needed a second opinion.

“Help please” you texted Dean.

Only moments later, you heard Sam’s voice from across the door. “Y/N? Are you ok?”

Your cheeks flushed red at the sound of his voice. You peeked your head out of your room. “Sorry, yeah, I’m fine. Could—could you come in here, real quick?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course,” Sam said, stumbling slightly over his words before following you into the dressing room.

You kept your back toward him and swiped your hair over your shoulders. “Sorry,” you said again impulsively, a bad habit you couldn’t break. “I just can’t see the back in the mirror to tell if everything is, you know, covered.”

You painstakingly waited for Sam to evaluate your clothing. You were suddenly hyperaware that Sam could probably see the embarrassment written across your face in the mirror.

“Umm, actually yeah. Some parts are peeking out on the top.”

“Dammit,” you cursed. “I’m hopeless. This is hopeless.”

“Well, hold on,” Sam said. “I think I could—well, are you alright if I—”

“Go for it,” you said hastily.

You couldn’t help but hold your breath as Sam carefully adjusted your top. His fingers brushed against your bare skin leaving goosebumps in their wake. You watched his reflection discreetly, transfixed by his concentration, his grace, his ever-gentle nature with you. Like Bobby, you felt safe with him. But Bobby’s kindness was familiar like a father’s. This feeling was new, something you’d never experienced before. And you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was.

“There,” Sam said, stirring you from your reverie. “Should be all covered, now.”

You turned around to face him. “Thank you.”

He released a heavy exhale. “No problem at all. I—I’ll meet you outside.” He said leaving you alone again.

You changed and made your final purchase of the day. You practically skipped to the boys, so thankful that this process was finally over. The air was brisk and fresh as you stepped out of the mall and into the twilight-lit parking lot, unlike the stuffy heat of each confining, oppressive dressing room you acquainted yourself with. The three of you discussed food as you set back onto the road.

chapter 3

[iclosedoors]

okay okay. let me explain

so me and my friend juno have this au where we mash the magverse and ars paradoxica together

so jonathan sims is some physicist that gets sent back with sally and nikhil (in this au nikhil lives longer than five seconds in 1943!!!!!)

nikhil also went to oxford with jon, so naturally he knows about his old band

feeling nostalgic for modern music, they band together to form the band Nikhil MinSaJ. Theyre essentially the opposite of postmodern jukebox.

jon sings most of the songs (except the few that are simply TOO much like the cupcakke songs and also WAP), sally sings the rest because nikhil is TERRIBLE

actually there was this one time they got helen to sing a song. five nights at freddys, the jazz version. she was very perplexed

sally plays the kazoo, passionately. nikhil knows a little guitar. he is not so good because he relied on guitar tabs. there are no guitar tabs in 1943.

i made a cover for their album:

the green crayon is actually stolen from petra (jon stole it)

idk who threy got to draw the main part of it, but they only really drew the green parts

here is their entire discography. we take suggestions

here is a couple other facts from our au:

- after nikhil attempted to seduce sally, he turned to jon who was shoved in the back. this went as smoothly as you can imagine

- jon visibly winces anytime he has to refer to martin (who he left in modern times) as his wife, Margaret. everyone just thinks he really hates his wife. only nikhil, sally, and esther know about martin.

- nikhil and sally started doing this thing where everytime the time piece would fuck up or they just fucked it up on accident theyd excuse it by saying jon was simply throwing ass too hard and damaged it. no clue where we started with this headcanon. anyways jon always just goes along with it without question.

- they make up other insane shit about jon that he just accepts and carries on with

- they take jon to las vegas and he loses all his money gambling

- jon will openly tell chet wickman to kill himself in front of everyone because he really just fucking hates chet whickman. in fact he would be so pissed to find out that in protocol they refer to him as chester. he does not want to be associated with that man

- jon keeps a really shitty drawing of martin in his wallet, much like how a soldier would keep a black and white photo of their wife while out at war. sometimes he stares blissfully at it, pining helplessly. no one can tell what the drawing is of, except him.

- jon roasts the shit out of anthony partridge because his wife left him. he will NEVER let that down. anthony is very disturbed by this little man and grimaces anytime he walks in the room

- jon really struggles to conform to the standards of the 1940s but they cant just let him do whatever cus he will ACTUALLY die

- the magnus institute kids from tmagp (gerry, sam, and presumably alice) are all part of the plasticity kids group

- they all live together with the cat and everything. every once in a while they will run into each pther in the kitchen at three am. jon will always walk in and say the most insane shit ever. i actually drew one of these moments here

as you can see jon is very disturbing

oh tjis is how jon draws petra and carmen

oh here is just a drawing of them brainstorming

oh i also made a fuckass edit of them

you may not get many of yhe references in it becahse it was never meant to see the light of day really

anyways cringe culture is dead i made this for anyone just as brain rotted as we are.

i hope this makes someone happy

[abarbaricyalp]

hey!! <3 Too Sweet for the wip game if you’re still doing it because i still remember you mentioning you were working on it (haven’t stopped thinking about it since)

I can't remember what I said when I first started talking about it, so apologies if this a repeat! WIP Game

Too Sweet is based on the Hozier song, obvi! It's told from Bucky's point of view as he watches Sam date, and recover, from a variety of partners who should be ideal for him, but just don't work out for one reason or another--usually related to what Sam was attracted to about them in the first place. Someone kind and gentle can't handle the Captain America danger. Someone in his running group is too focused growing better for themselves. Someone who knows/works with him as Cap only treats him as Cap, etc etc. And Bucky silently pines and aches (and hates all of these people for leaving Sam) because he thinks Sam is too good for him/he's too bad for Sam. It's supposed to be a 5+1 but I dunno how many more fake partners I have in me lmao

.

"Don't sulk. And stop chewing on your nails," Rhodey said, appearing in the chair beside Bucky with a frankly uncanny quiet.

Bucky looked away from where his gaze was drilling into Sam and the man he was dancing with. "I'm older than you," Bucky pointed out. "You can't order me around."

"I outrank you too," Rhodey pointed out with a small smirk. 

"You and most of the army. Tweety outranks me." He nodded off towards Joaquin, who was not watching Sam the way he normally did. Instead, he was three people deep into an animated story and an adoring crowd.

"It's not going to last," Rhodey continued. He usually had some remark about how Joaquin was a 'good kid' or something, but clearly he had a mission today.

Bucky took in a steadying breath as he dragged his eyes away from Sam again. "Have you met Winston? Even I like him. He was practically gift-wrap-made for Sam. Sam's crazy about him."

"Sam likes him," Rhodey accepted. "And they're pretty cute. But it's not going to last," he repeated. 

"Why do you say that?"

Since beginning to spend more time with Sam--and following him around like a shadow when he could--he'd learned that Sam and Rhodey had become close friends, despite all of the bullshit that tried to get between them. Rhodey was the kind of noble that Bucky thought only existed in fairytales, so it made sense him and Sam found camaraderie in each other. There was some super-secret Air Force bond that Sam wouldn't tell Bucky about, too. Bucky liked Rhodey. He thought he was level-headed and no-nonsense, which Bucky was appreciating more as he realized how rare it was nowadays. 

Still, Rhodey could be nosy when it came to Sam. Could be as bad as all the old folks down in Louisiana, who were the reason Sam was slow dancing and laughing with Winston now. Bucky always had a suspicious side-eye ready when Rhodey brought up Sam in a less than professional context.

Like talking about his relationship not lasting.

Bucky gnawed on his cuticle again and watched Sam get spun around in a dizzying turn combo. He watched him catch himself on Winston's chest and hide his laugh against Winston's shoulder.

"Because I saw the way Winston reacted to Sam getting home last weekend."

Bucky bit down on the side of his finger too hard and tasted copper instantly. "He came all the way to DC to see Sam?"

Rhodey shrugged. "Sure, but he was freaking out about it. We were a day late, comms were out of the question. Winston was losing it."

Bucky shot him a strangled sort of look. "You're complaining that he's a concerned partner?"

Rhodey rolled his eyes. "Sam wasn't even hurt. Imagine how he's gonna react the first time Sam winds up in a hospital or a fall is caught in HD and plays on the news for a week straight."

"I get pissed off about things like that," Bucky pointed out.

"But you stick through it. I'm just saying, a lot of soldiers lose partners who can't handle the danger of the job. Imagine dating a superhero."

Bucky couldn't imagine it. Being best friends with one was exhausting enough and he was one himself. All of the people who kept his bed warm were hardly interested in his long-term wellbeing. It's not something he thought about often.

"Sam's always alright," he said. "He's the last guy someone would have to worry about. He's smart out there."

Rhodey leveled him with a skeptical look. "Isn't there a 'Days since last self sacrifice' countdown on your fridge?"

[bri-norris]

PROLOGUE TO—UNREQUINTED FEELINGS…C. BROCK X FEM!OC

warnings: mentions of alcohol, weed, and partying.

a/n: im a little bored, so like erm!! heres this :)

ALIYAH MCKENNA HARDY was never the party type, but her best friends—Milo, Amayah and Makayla forced her out of the house—So she put on her best party outfit and went on.

On the way in the uber the 3 girls and Milo chatted about the recent video they did with Sam and Colby at The Conjuring House.

With continous mentions of Abigail and the whole knocking method. It was kind of freaky.

As they arrived to the party, the first person they saw was Nate—Aliyahs older brother—He was with some girl in the front yard drinking some mixed drink.

"Hey Nate! Hey uh- What one is this?" Aliyah wasnt meaning to sound rude, but Nate had loads of girl friends and she couldnt keep track of their names.

But the girl took offense to that then rolled her eyes walking off.

"Really Lia! I was gonna make a move!" Nate was clearly upset and Aliyah felt bad, "Sorry- I didnt mean to sound rude or something! It wasnt even a rude question!"

With that, Nate rolled his eyes and walked away. What a bitch, only sometimes though, you know, siblings.

Aliyah then blinked and scurried inside with her group, the strong smell of alcohol and weed hitting her senses, how gross.

She and her friends walked around for a bit, losing Makayla to Hayden. They were probably making out in a closet somewhere.

Aliyah had finally found a non alcoholic drink, or so she thought, and sipped slowly. But Milo and Amayah on the other hand? Oh they were hammered the second they walked in.

She looked at everyone around, hoping to see one person in particular.

Then she did, but he was with some other girl.

She bit her lip, and got up to find someone to talk to, as she was left alone on the couch.

Colby had come to the party with Sam and Nate way before Aliyah and her friends.

When Nate told him she was coming, he ran to his car and got a new shirt.

Nate gave him a odd look, kind of pissy aswell.

All Colby said was he spilt something on himself a bit ago.

Nate let it go, and went on his own, leaving Colby and Sam.

Sam then started teading the shit out of him, "You like Lia!! You like Lia!!"

And Colby shooed him off, "Do not! Shes like a little sister to me! And far to young!"

Sam gave him a 'Be For Real' look, "Come on Cole, shes only 24, you're 26, Thats not bad!!" Colby rolled his eyes, "Point is; I do not like her."

"Sure you dont!!" And he walked away with a chuckle to go get a drink, leaving Colby a little red and irritated.

A few hours into the party, he had heard Amayah—He was gonna go over, but saw Aliyah and got nervous, so he just went over to a random girl in hopes to get over this 'small' feeling.

A little bit of dancing later, his eyes met Aliyahs. She looked upset, but then got up and danced with a random guy.

Thats not like her at all.

Aliyah had gotten over to the guy and started dancing and jumping with him.

Amayah ran over aswell and started to dance, "Lets party till we die! I like this Aliyah!"

Aliyah was smiling and laughing, happy she came out rather than sitting in bed watching shameless and eating ramen.

She walked away a bit later and got another drink, but realized it was alochol, but shrugged and then chugged.

She had about 7, and damn is she a lightweight.

By the end of the night her heels were off and she was stumbling into some random guys car.

Or atleast.. she thought he was random.

A/N: okay so uhuhuhuhuh there ti is guyd erm…

[ifitsagirlphebeifitsaboyphoebo]

Saw @salaarfanindia's recent post, I couldn't help but notice some parallels between Destiel and Varadeva. This may be quite the stretch but please excuse me.

Varadharaja Mannar, the elder brother , quite like Dean Winchester.

Both have a younger brother(Baachi/Sam Winchester) who they've sworn to protect.

Both of them have absent fathers. Rajamannar in Varadha's case and John Winchester for Dean. Their mothers died when they were quite young leaving them to fend for themselves while looking after their brothers at the same time.

Both have a father figure in their lives who consider them as their own son, essentially being more of a father to them than their biological father.

Both of them have a best friend who's hot, brooding and doesn't talk much.Said best friend would go to hell and back for them. Castiel went to the fiery pit of Hell to rescue Dean . As he himself says, Castiel gripped Dean tight and raised him from Perdition.Similarly, Deva reaches rescues Varadha from the metaphorical Hell that Rudra and his cronies inflict up on him(Cue : Mukku pogu incident where Deva touches a live wire to return Varadha's nose ring from the bullies).And later when the ceasefire is imposed,Deva comes to stay by his side as his "army" (tbh I didn't think Varadha called him as an army... He just wanted Deva by his side after all these year

Castiel, being an Angel,defied Heaven itself ,always choosing Dean (at one point an angel tells Cas not to lose it all for one Man) in the process being cast out and losing his grace, eventually becoming human himself .Deva wouldn't make a promise to his Amma when she asks him never to set foot in Khansaar again. But Deva makes a promise to Varadha to always return whenever he calls, going as far as to say that he'd be a bait or a shark for Varadha's sake, thereby choosing Varadha. In the end, he makes the choice to choose Varadha again and again when he performs the sword ritual to honour his commitment to Varadha.He chooses to be Varadha's Salaar, leaving behind all his ambitions(if any) and the throne itself which would've made him the Shouryanga King.He gives it all up for Varadha.

Castiel, on the verge of an impending Apocalypse, tells a broken Dean that he is the one who's fated to stop the Apocalypse and Lucifer .Deva, in a prison cell, right before a crucial juncture, where the fate of Khansaar rests in Varadha's vote, tells him that it doesn't matter what others think(or vote )and that he can exercise his power to do what he thinks is right, thereby guiding Varadha .

Cas puts himself on the line for Dean over and over again (I'll hold them off, i'll hold them all off...) even when he knows there's no coming back for him.Deva puts himself on the line for Varadha at Velamgadi , pleading with Naarang to spare Varadha and take him instead.

Cas smites demons for Dean. He even went against Lucifer for Dean. Deva beheaded Naarang for Varadha.

Cas watches Dean sleep (i'll watch over you).. Deva watches Varadha sleepand calms his nightmares(I'm not even making this up).

Cas and Dean hug each other , tight hugs where either refuses to let the other go.It's their love language. Deva and Varadha also have the same love language, long tight hugs where Varadha just melts into Deva's arms, arms which cradle Varadha like they're holding a long lost treasure(which of course Varadha is).

Dean and Cas flirt a lot .

Dean to Cas (after Cas has been staring at him intensely) : Cas,not for nothing, last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.

Cas: *is dumbfounded*

Deva and Varadha... Well

Deva to Varadha : I have many friends more good looking than you.

Varadha : *cant tell if he is offended or horny*.

Sam is tired of his brother's eyefucking with the gay angel...One of these days he'll pluck his eyeballs out if he sees them pining over each other. Baachi and Rinda are always sulky as they have to witness the woobie eyes Deva and Varadha make at each other.I mean hey...anyone would be.

Cas tells Dean "I love you"/ Deva tells Varadha " No one should touch you".

I could go on but I won't. . I know some of this is a stretch but I couldn't help but remember an old beloved tv series and a new but beloved movie together... Apologies if this sucks..

[muddyorbsblr]

man of the month outtake: open to sharing

Series Masterlist @mochie85's Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: You try giving Loki his cardigan back at the end of the day

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 691

Warnings: none; this is pure fluff [let me know if i missed something!]

Things to be aware of: mutual pining; idiots in love

"Dayum, Tweety, you really got an eye for this, you know that? Is it bad that I wanna choose all of them?" Sam had taken over controlling the cursor on your setup and clicking on every shot that he was partial to. "Could you send me my shots? If it's not too much work. I wanna post some. Y'know, wassup Khloe?" 

You laughed at his antics, agreeing almost immediately to Airdrop him all his shots. "It'll probably even make good promotional content to let people know that a calendar's coming. But we're not there yet. Go nuts, Big Bird. Shoot your shot." 

"You're the best. And remember what I said about climbing that tree, lil birdy. I wasn't kidding." He gave you a quick once over, visibly appraising your outfit. "Someone should tell you this, and if Horns is gonna be too much of a chicken to do it, I will. You look damn fine in green." 

That made you remember real quick that you were still wearing Loki's cardigan. "Fuck shit, I should give this back," you muttered while putting his 'cream of the crop' favorite shot into the August page layout. "Also I probably shouldn't wear this color even if I do look 'damn fine' in it. This is Loki's green, and you know how he gets when people wear 'his' green." 

"Oh yeah, Thunder told us all about how 'wearing someone's colors' on Asgard was like this silent declaration of love." He looked like a lightbulb went off on his head. "You should definitely wear that green more often then." You rolled your eyes at him. "Wear it during his shoot. Maybe you'll have no need for tree climbing and he'll just do you on the set."

"Moving on," you pressed, placing the lettering for 'August' on the page layout as well. "How's this?" 

"You should consider this as a side hustle," he simply commented, punctuating his response with light applause.

"Well I just might, considering that I'm probably gonna lose my spot on this team after what happened this morning," you said, trying to mask your worry with a seemingly lighthearted chuckle. 

"If he tries, even as a joke, I'll kick his ass." He have your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before heading out of your studio with his arms outstretched and a big goofy grin on his face announcing, "It ain't me, y'all!" 

You triple checked your project files for the night, making sure that everything had been backed up to the cloud before shutting off the machine to head out back to your apartment. You could finally start seeing the light at the end of the tunnel now that you were down to the last four shoots. 

By next week, you'd be sending off the calendar to the printing company and your part would be over. And now that your todo list for the project was steadily shrinking, you finally no longer felt the need to pass the night sleeping on the couch, or the bedroom set just so you could get some extra work done. 

Your heart started skipping beats like a DJ in a rave again when you locked up your studio and you caught sight of an all too familiar silhouette standing up from the couch as you stepped out the door. "Oh. Hey, Mischief. You're still here. Perfect," you stammered.

"It is?" You caught the corners of his mouth twitching, almost pulling up into a smile.

"Yep. I could return this to you now," you said as you made a motion to shrug off his cardigan, your heart lodging itself into your throat again when he crossed the distance between you and placed his hands over yours.

"You need not do that, darling." You were sure he could feel your pulse at your fingertips as he laced his fingers with yours. 

"I thought you had a thing about people wearing your colors," you breathed out, surprised you could even form words while he was holding you like this. 

He gave you a devastatingly charming smile as his gaze stayed fixed on yours. "I wouldn't mind sharing, especially when it becomes you so." 

A/N: Just a lil something that I wanted to put into the main chapter, but felt a bit too much like "filler", so I decided to turn it into an outtake/drabble instead.

Everything taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @kats72 @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @creationsbyme @coldnique

[dragonfirerogue-writes]

Can I please have an imagine where fem!reader is an original member of the glee club and her and Quinn are obviously pining after each other. The glee club gets tired of it and hatches a plan to get them together. It works and they end up together. Just fluffy please?

Quinn x Reader

"We HAVE to do something about them..." Santana groans out. "Those goo-goo eyes are making me sick."

The New Directions were having a meeting about their resident starstruck lovers. You and Quinn have been dancing around each other since Glee Club started two years ago and it was infuriating everyone.

"It's a wonder how they don't know how the other feels," Kurt mentions with a sigh. "If I had eyes burning into my soul, I'd notice."

"To be fair," Tina pipes in. "Quinn did date around a lot for a bit." Mike nods in agreement.

"Yeah, that's bound to give some mixed signals."

"Then what excuse does Q have!?" Santana all but yells at the others. "The last thing she should be worried about is a little gay panic after everything."

There's a grumble of agreement that echoes in the choir room. It lasts for a bit before Artie chimes in with an idea.

"Well, let's help them get together then? Like set them up on a blind date together?" Mike shakes his head.

"No. Y/N won't date anyone else. She feels like it wouldn't be fair to want someone while dating another."

A few more ideas get thrown out and denied until Rachel has an epiphany.

"Let's do a duet week again and match them together! Force them to work together and before you know it, they'll finally confess." The others start getting into the planning method.

"Gotta be a love song theme." Sam says. "Otherwise they could do something like 'The Boy Is Mine'."

"We'll have to make sure they're paired together." Mercedes piped in. "Maybe the hat of fate, but just put one of their names as every choice. We'll choose our own partners."

Everyone excitedly continues to plan. It was fool-proof. It has to work. Hopefully, Mr. Schue was willing to at least let them take charge of this.

-----+++++-----

The next Glee meeting arrives and everyone, including you and Quinn, are waiting for your teacher to make an appearance. You keep glancing over at Quinn, getting a glimpse of the girl you've been pining for for years. She seems unfazed, talking to Santana and Brittany. You smile at how at ease she seems and you're happy that her life has mellowed out for the time being.

"Alright team!" Mr. Schue greets as he walks into the choir room. "This week, we're doing another duet assignment."

Everyone cheers at the news. It takes a second for their teacher to calm everyone.

"And this time, I'm gonna get you guys choose your partners... Within a time limit." He takes out a stopwatch and sets the timer to ten seconds.

"Ready?" Everyone is poised. They all knew who to go to.

"Set?" The kids hover in their chairs.

"Go!"

Almost immediately, everyone sits back down, grabbing the person next to them. That left you and Quinn to be the only ones standing in confusion.

"And there we go! Good job everyone." Mr. Schue continues on with the assignment, leaving you and Quinn baffled.

-----+++++-----

"We need to pick a song, Quinn..."

The two of you were sitting in your room, sitting separately as you both go through various songs on your respective phones. While you were thrilled to have Quinn as a duet partner, the blonde was fighting you on which song to choose.

"I know, I know," the blonde sighs. "I just don't like any of these."

You throw your hands up in frustration. "There has to be something. We're losing rehearsal time."

Quinn just sighs and flops back on your bed. She steals one of your pillows and hugs it tight. You just lean back in your chair and poke at your keyboard. There was a potential to get even closer to your crush, but it seemed like it was wasted. Little did you know, Quinn felt the same way.

The sound of piano notes fills the room as you start playing randomly, eventually starting "Rewrite the Stars." It didn't take long before you were singing along.

I know you want me

It's not a secret I try to hide

I know you want me

So don't tell me our hands are tied.

Quinn smiles as she listens. Your voice was always one of her favorites and it was never tiring to listen to. She sits up, the pillow still in hand, before joining into the next verse. It's your turn to listen and you nearly swoon at the soft tones of her voice. It doesn't take long for you two to get into the song. Soon enough, you've abandoned your keyboard and are dancing with her. When you're both at the end of the song, you're face to face, staring at each other. Quinn doesn't seem to want to sing her last lines.

"I..." Quinn hesitates for a moment, searching your eyes, before leaning forward and placing her lips against yours. You sink into the feeling, making the most of it in case this was a fleeting fancy.

When you part, your eyes are still closed, unwilling to leave the dream. But when you do, you see hazel eyes staring right back at you. You can't help but gasp at the emotion in them.

"This... Isn't an 'in the moment' thing, right?" You tentatively ask. "Because if it is, I don't think I can take it."

Quinn lets out a soft laugh and shakes her head. "No. It's not an 'in the moment' thing. I really like you, Y/N. A lot. For a long time now." You just blink in response.

"Really? I've had feelings for you for years." A stupid smile spreads on your face. "I didn't think you felt the same because of all the... Others."

The blonde sits back on your bed and you follow suit. "They happened because I thought it would help me get over you. They didn't."

"So... We've been pining over each other."

"Yup."

There's a beat of silence before you both have an epiphany.

"Oh my God," you groan. "The rest of the Glee Club..." Quinn buries her face into her hands.

"They set us up..."

The blonde then shoots her head back up with a smirk.

"So when I sing that last line during our performance..." She eyes you mischievously.

You answer her with a wide grin.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

༉‧₊˚. 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 || 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

― pairing: dean winchester x plus size!reader

― summary: loving dean was easy, even though he was older than you, even though you knew that he'd never love you back.

― warnings: heavy swearing, implied sexual content, dean is a bit of a man whore but we love him for it, dean's good at hiding his feelings, mutual pining, unrequited love (not really).

― wc: 621

⋆ a/n: thank you @brittany-rubin for this request! i'm sorry it took me so long to get to this, but i've had a bit of a writer's block when it came to this prompt, but i tried my best and i hope this lived up to your expectations :]

masterlist | AO3

Being in love with Dean was like playing a game that you already knew you were going to lose. Not only was he significantly older than you, but he was also a longtime friend, and roommate. Being on the road with your feelings was easy, because you would have easily been able to separate yourself from him if you needed too, but now, you were trapped, like a rabid animal in a cage. At least you have Sam there. Yeah, Sam.

When Dean was in his early thirties, watching him flirt with other women was like a punch to the gut, constantly showing up the hotel room all three of you shared after a night out, his neck decorated in hickies as you tried to keep yourself together. He'd tell you about his late night endeavors as you tried to keep up with the conversation. You were glad that his midnight endeavors had dwindled down to one to none. It was still hard, because even though you didn't have any competitors, you couldn't ever be with him.

Usually, you were able to tolerate Dean talking about his sex life, but maybe you slept on the wrong side of the bed, or hadn't slept at all because he had been out all night, your brain practically drowning at the thought of him having sex with someone else.

"She was crazy man." Dean began with a smile on his face. You breathed in, projecting all of your sleep deprived agitation into stirring sugar into your coffee. "She did this thing with her tongue—" He was cut off by you slamming your mug onto the sheet metal island. "Who pissed in your Cheerios?" Dean piped up from behind you. Unable to bite your tongue you regrettably said, "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don't care about who you've fucked?" Both Sam & Dean fell silent at your snapping, embarrassment swirling in your gut as you felt their eyes on you.

You left the kitchen, storming into your room and sitting on the side of your bed. If he didn't know you liked him, he sure as shit knew you did now, or maybe had some grasp on the fact that you may or may not feel something for him that was more than friendly. You were mentally kicking yourself, your door cracking open, the creaking alerting you of someone's presence.

"What the hell was that back there?" Dean, of course it was Dean, why wouldn't it be Dean? "I'm sorry.. I just— I haven't slept, I don't know." He let out a sigh, sitting right next to you as your heart leaped into your throat. "I think me and you both know that it wasn't because you were tired. I've been talking about this for years, and it's a problem all of a sudden?" Anger began to burrow itself deep inside of you. "What do you want me to say Dean? Maybe that I'm in love with you? That you probably don't want me because I'm like a sister to you?" You couldn't look at him, your brain silently wishing that he would just go away.

"Who said I see you like a sister?" You looked at him through your peripheral vision, hoping you didn't hear him incorrectly. "What?" His arm settled around your waist. "You heard me. Who said?" You gulped nervously. "Me?" He let out a laugh. "That's now very reliable. No offense." You cracked a grin. "None taken." Your breaths fell in to the silent air of your room. "So you love me?" You nodded, a bit hesitant. "Is that a problem?" Your voice shook. He pulled you closer to him, his lips grazing yours.

"Not at all."

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood

[xoxobuckybarnes]

March 2023 Stucky Fics

Completed

Till It Bleeds Daylight (Rated: E, Words: 44K) by cable-knit-sweater / @cable-knit-sweater 

Summary: Steve has been undercover with Hydra for a couple of months, slowly getting deeper into the organization . As he tries to figure out what they’re plotting and tries to take them down, he struggles with his past, loneliness, and keeping his cover. When he finds out about a mysterious contractor, the Winter Soldier, Steve figures he or she is the key to Hydra’s plans, but getting more information is not without risk. But well, Steve is anything but risk averse - just ask his secretive one-night-stand turned regular hookup turned …something, James “Bucky” Barnes. Or, going undercover with the criminal organization that haunted your neighborhood growing up, a Steve Rogers guide: Step 1 - Don’t make it personal; Step 2 - Don’t take unnecessary risks; Step 3 - Don’t lose your cool; Step 4 - Don’t fall in love with a hitman; Step 5 - Ignore rules 1 to 4, especially 4. Title from the song "Lovers In A Dangerous Time"

From Ice and Ashes (Rated: M, Words: 64K) by phansomedevil / @phansomedevil 

Summary: Steve asks: “How do you move on?” Sam’s eyebrows shoot skyward. He whistles air out from pursed lips. “Do you want the therapist answer or the real one?” “Surprise me.” “The truth is – you don’t get over it,” Sam says, his voice low. “Not when it’s that close to your soul. Not when he’s someone you built yourself up around. Maybe you fall in love again, maybe you don’t. It won’t feel the same. He’ll always be coming up in your peripheral.” As the bus pulls to a stop in front of them, Sam grips his shoulder. “But you still gotta keep living your life. For his memory, yeah. But mostly for yourself.” *** Steve Rogers learns what it means to be a queer hero in a complicated modern age. He tries to move on from the pull of the past, and his lost loves, but fate rarely lets him catch a break.

The Size of Perfection (Rated: E, Words: 31K) by Phoenike 

Summary: The serum enhances Steve’s physical attributes to peak condition. All of them. Unfortunately, ‘enhanced’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘optimal’ or ‘something that a fella wishes to show the girl of his dreams on their wedding night.’

Introduction to Fake Dating Your Best Friend 101 (Rated: T, Words: 24K) by crinklefries / @spacerenegades  

Summary: Bucky stares at his best friend as though he’s absolutely lost what’s left of his dumbass mind. “Excuse me?” he asks dumbly. Steve sighs and sags back onto the couch, covering his face dramatically with one large, well-manicured hand. “Dean Coulson thinks we’re dating. And gay. But like, for each other. And now I need you to fake date me so I can convince the Chancellor to fund my research.” or; Steve and Bucky are a pair of professors who have to fake date for academic purposes and are real dumb along the way. It's not so much a forest of pine as a whole landscape of it. It turns out fine, probably.

The Best Way to Wake (Rated: E, Words: 42K) by LeeHan / @leehanji

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes lay in a glass pod in the middle of the table, frozen since he fell. Steve’s hands were on the glass before he realized he’d moved. “Wait, Captain!” “Get him out,” Steve whispered, his hands searching for a clasp, a keypad, something. “Captain, we need to keep him in stasis—“ “I said get him out!”In which Bucky Barnes lay frozen in the Alps for seventy years only to be woken up a year after Steve Rogers was uncovered from the Arctic.

Casual Encounters (Rated: E, Words: 66K) by MoreThanSlightly / @morethanslightly 

Summary: “You have never once been careful in your entire life.” Bucky huffs out a laugh. He looks away. “Maybe I’m offended you didn’t think to ask me.” He says it like a joke, but he can’t bring himself to laugh again. “Bucky,” Steve says, scandalized. “You’re my friend. I’m not gonna use you to experiment sexually.”

Pisces Season (Rated: T, Words: 6K) by dreamsinthewitchouse / @dreamsinthewitchouse

Summary: Steve can’t get drunk because of what the serum did to his metabolism, but he still likes beer, and Bucky knows it’s because he likes the simplicity of it; likes remembering how drinking it used to feel, before the war. He watches Steve lift a bottle to his mouth and take a swig, teeth flashing. Steve has let his hair grow out a bit, which is a pretty great look on him, but the truth is that every single version of him, ever, has made something at the bottom of Bucky’s stomach twist into an unsolvable knot. Bucky knows he’s probably got what Natasha calls his smitten kitten look plastered all over his face, but just then he’s way past caring because it's Steve, now looking back at Bucky across the room, his mouth curled in a smile. Or: the one in which Bucky and Steve live happily with their Avengers family and nothing hurts (and Bucky snacks and naps a lot). Also, it’s Bucky’s 101st birthday.

A Certain Slant of Light (Rated: E, Words, 32K) by agetwellcard

Summary: Steve first meets Bucky on a Sunday morning. He's instantly intrigued by the new pastor's son with pale blue eyes and a nervous smile.

a song on a policeman’s radio (series) by rohkeutta / @rohkeutta 

How we rolled up the carpet so we could dance (Rated: E, Words: 7K) art by SulaSafeRoom / @sulasaferoom

Summary: Steve’s already showered and changed into sweats and a tank top, his hair still sticking up in cowlicks. When Bucky drags himself to the couch, still in his uniform with soot on his face, Steve takes one look at him in the soft glow of the living room lamp and opens his arms. Bucky drops the shield on the floor and crawls over Steve’s legs to collapse on top of him, tucks his face under Steve’s chin and exhales. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

our chosen homes (Rated: G, Words: 756)

Summary: “It’s been freezing,” Steve repeats as he drops the wood in front of the fireplace, throws two logs in to make sure that the fire isn’t going out. “Huh,” Bucky murmurs absently from the folds of his blanket, and Steve has to squeeze him a little as he passes, rub his cold nose against the vulnerable patch of skin behind Bucky’s ear. Bucky yelps, a high-pitched sound muffled by the duvet he’s wrapped in, and Steve laughs, kisses his ear on the way to get more water from the well.

The Same River, Twice (The Man Is Still Left with His Hands) (Rated: G, Words: 4K) by dorian_burberrycanary / @burberrycanary & art by amoneth / @amoneth-art​

Summary: Steve had meant to stay forever and didn’t last a year. He meant to return right back to when he left, but that doesn’t work out the way he planned either. Turns out a lot can happen in nine months.—Steve didn’t need his first month back to make him aware of just how many degrees forgiveness comes in, but some lessons feel new each time. Getting a text from Sam asking him to Delacroix for the weekend feels like one tick closer and Steve’ll take it. He’s texting back when Sam adds, Bucky will be there. And Steve? Steve’ll take that, too. A post-The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Stucky Endgame fix-it where a lot needs fixing.

***This fic is complete, but the series (A Man Takes His Sadness Down to the River (The Consolation of Philosophy)) is not.***

Still Left with the River (The Paradox of Motion) (Rated: M, Words: 14K) by dorian_burberrycanary / @burberrycanary​

Summary: Coming back from as good as dead to a changed world is easier the second time around. But then Steve supposes that, like with most things, you get better with practice. A post-The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Stucky Endgame fix-it where even if you can’t go home again, you’ve got to go somewhere.

***This fic is complete, but the series (A Man Takes His Sadness Down to the River (The Consolation of Philosophy)) is not.***

North Fork (Rated: E, Words: 62K) by BeaArthurPendragon / @beaarthurpendragon & art by Stucky1980 / @lisamott9

Summary: Sworn to silence by the Air Force after a friendly fire accident in Afghanistan, former aid workers James and Sam have come home to take over Sam’s family’s vacation rental business to escape the bad memories. Losing an arm and working maintenance wasn’t how James pictured his life turning out, but his life is good: He likes fixing things, he gets to work for his best friend, and he loves surfing every morning. Fresh out of the ice, all Steve wants is for SHIELD to announce his return and let him get back to work so he won't have time to think about all he's lost. But when his psychiatrist refuses to clear him for duty until he's dealt with his trauma, he reluctantly accepts Tony's offer of a beach house for the summer to settle his mind. Armed with a false identity and a stack of sketchbooks, his only goal is to get back into the field. He's got no intention of letting his heart defrost along with the rest of his body. That is, until a handsome maintenance man with a secret of his own shows up with a gallon of ice cream and a smile that could light up half of New York.(Written for the 2021 Shrunkyclunks Big Bang)

with all my skin and bone (Rated: T, Words: 54K) by unicornpoe

Summary: Agents Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes don't get along. With Steve's reckless attitude and Bucky's cautious, no-nonsense way of doing things, they clash from the beginning, and make enemies of each other before they can even think of being friends. But when both men are assigned to a job that will take them to the suburbs in investigation of CEO Alexander Pierce—where they're supposed to live together, to be married to each other, to be in love with each other—old feelings rise up, and new ones emerge. What happens when the person you hate most in the world has to be the person you love? What happens when the line between lies and truth gets blurred? Pining, that's what. And some kissing, too.***Steve and Bucky fall together, and fall in love.

Push It Real Good (Rated: M, Words: 35K) by spoffyumi / @spoffyumi​

Summary: The way Steve had to steel himself to ask the question made Bucky a little wary. "Will you be my partner for a Lamaze class?" For a few long moments, Bucky just blinked at him, not knowing which question to ask first. Finally he went with the biggest question on his mind. "What?"

WIP

Treading Water (Rated: M, Current Words: 96K) by sparkagrace / @sparkagrace & art by Dyslexic_Fetus / @reagy-jay

Summary: Olympic swimmer Bucky Barnes always believed that when the time came to retire, he would walk away with his medals and world records firmly in the history books and never look back. He never thought the water would leave him first.

***Be sure to check out the rest of this amazing series: Lane Lines: Lane Lines (Rated: M, Words: 132K), Lumière (Rated: M, Words: 5K), & New Traditions (Rated: M, Words: 6K)***

a league of their own (Rated: E, Current Words: 8K) by burning_brighter / @burning-brighter

Summary: Steve's sixteen-year-old son's one and only dream is to play in the Major League. He thinks he has a shot when the team get a new coach, retired MLB legend and Steve's high school crush, Bucky Barnes. Steve hasn't thought of the man in many years, but seeing him brings back many memories that push Steve to reach out to an old friend and maybe make new ones on the way. What happens when Steve gets to know Bucky properly? What happens when they open up about their darkest secrets and deepest fears? There's really only one thing that can happen.

An Appropriate Omega (Rated: M, Current Words: 205K) by BeauRadley

Summary: Steven Rogers, the Duke of Brooklyn, is in a bind. The provisions of his father’s will mean he must marry before his thirty-fifth birthday or lose his mother’s inheritance. The catch? He has to marry a suitable omega. James Barnes is the third child of the impoverished Barnes family. If he or his sister don’t marry before the season is out, their family will fall further into poverty. If he doesn’t find someone else soon, he’ll be forced to marry the sinister Lord Pierce. The two men realize they can solve each other’s problems, but will their marriage of convenience turn into something more?