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ghostofskywalker · 2 years

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Home Run Romance - 3

Natasha Romanoff/Fem!Reader

Words: 2,452

Summary: [Professional Baseball AU] Natasha Romanoff is the first female major league baseball player in America, and she’s determined to prove herself to the rest of the world. Y/N L/N is a reporter and a journalist, with most of her job specifically dedicated to covering the New York Yankees, and she has a strict “no relationships” policy at work. Natasha falls hard for Y/N almost instantly, but doesn’t have the confidence to admit it just yet.

Series Masterlist

As the season began to unfold, it became clear that Natasha was one of the best rookie players in all of major league baseball. With a high batting average and an exceptionally low error rate on the field, she started to win over the hearts of even the most wary Yankees fans, and she was loved by little girls all over the country, many of whom began writing to her and saying how they wanted to be her when they grew up. But like any good thing, for each glowing headline, there were four that could probably be classified as libel.

How Long Will The Honeymoon Period Last for The New York Yankees? The Answer Is: As Long As People Want To Stare At Natasha Romanoff's Ass In That Uniform.

Why Women In Baseball Means That The Sun Is Setting On The National Pastime

Girls Don't Play Baseball, And It's High Time The Yankees Learned Their Lesson

If They Keep Signing Female Players, It's Only a Matter of Time Before The Yankees Strike Out For Good

Never mind the fact that the team currently had the best record in the league, and they had only lost one game in the month since they had begun playing. But Natasha knew what she was getting into when she signed the contract, and she tried not to let the words of the negative journalists and writers get to her.

You were the one bright spot in the reporting landscape, and Natasha was eternally grateful for the prolific amount of writing you did coming to her defense. You published scathing replies to those articles, calling out the writers for their beliefs and citing all of the amazing things that Natasha has done on the field. She knew it was your job to do this, and the other members of the press team contributed to the responses as well as published their own defenses of her and the team, but she really only cared about what you had to say.

Unfortunately, Natasha wasn't as subtle with her crush on you as she would have liked, and not only had Bucky figured it out at this point, but Sam and Clint as well.

The team was warming up on the field, but Natasha's heart wasn't really in it today. She was still performing well, but the months of daily play was starting to take a toll on her, both physically and mentally. They would have a break coming up soon, and then they would be heading back on the road in a little while, so she hoped that this feeling was just temporary.

She hadn't seen you come through the stadium yet, not that she had been looking (of course). Or at least, she would never admit that she had been looking for you. She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost missed a ball Clint threw at her. "Something on your mind?" he asked.

Not wanting to talk about it, Natasha shook her head. "I'm fine."

Clint didn't look too convinced, and it didn't help Natasha's case when you walked in with someone she had never seen before. "Who's that?" the question came tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop it, and Clint turned to see who she was talking about.

The woman that had walked in with you was incredibly beautiful, with perfectly curled brown hair and bright red lips, and Natasha couldn't help the jealousy that erupted in her stomach. What if this woman was your girlfriend, and she had spent so much time pining over someone who was off the market? But you had never mentioned that you were in a relationship to her, and it didn't seem like the team knew anything either.

"She looks familiar," Clint said, pausing for a moment. "Oh! I remember her now, she's a friend of Y/N's and comes to the occasional home game when she can. I can't remember her name right now, but it was something old fashioned, like Mildred or Margaret or something."

"You're close," a new voice cut into the conversation, and both Clint and Natasha turned to where Sam and Bucky had been tossing a ball between them. It was Bucky who had spoken. "Her name is Margaret but she goes by Peggy, and don't worry Romanoff - she has a boyfriend, so your crush on Y/N is still okay."

Natasha went to speak, but Sam beat her to it. "When Y/N brought her to meet everyone last year, there were two guys with her," he said. "Which one was her boyfriend?"

"Not the annoying blond, the other one," Bucky said. "He had dark hair and a crutch, remember?"

Sam and Clint both nodded as Natasha spoke again. "And you're sure that Y/N isn't dating her?"

Bucky nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. You still have a shot, if you're ever going to take it that is."

Blush crept up all over Natasha's face, this was not something she wanted to have advertised for the whole team to know about. She gave Bucky a dirty look, but stopped when Sam and Clint started to laugh. "What's so funny?" she asked, instantly feeling a little defensive.

"If you were trying to keep your feelings a secret, you don't need to bother," Sam said. "We all know."

"The whole team knows?" Okay, maybe baseball wasn't for her. She started to calculate how difficult it would be to go off the grid completely, and how stupid her teammates must think she is. Maybe it was time to become a sheep farmer in a remote village somewhere, because she could obviously never show her face here again if the whole team knew about her feelings for you before she ever got a chance to act on them.

"No, just us I think," Bucky said, and that put Natasha a little at ease. It was still three people more than she wanted to know, but she would be able to survive this. And it seemed that everyone was understanding of her crush, at the very least. They never brought up your "no dating at work" rule, but Natasha knew that it was on their minds. It was on her mind as well, and she had even tried to move on from you, all to no avail. If you rejected her then it would be over, but until that happened, there was no way Natasha was going to stop thinking about you.

***

After that moment, it seemed that you (and the rest of the press team) showed up a lot more often. While you used to pop in and say hello before games, now you and the others would occasionally show up to practices as well. Not that Natasha was complaining, but it definitely wasn't making her feelings any easier to shake.

Bucky and Clint teased her almost constantly, and even though Sam was a little kinder, he still would occasionally poke fun at her when no one else was listening. They kept telling her to try and talk to you more than she already did, but Natasha always scowled and just told them to stop meddling.

And to their credit, they always backed off. None of the other members of the team were aware of her crush on you (though Natasha sometimes wondered if Steve had figured it out and was just not telling her), and so far, it didn't seem like you were aware of it either. There was hope for Natasha, as she overheard Tony talk about one time you brought an ex-girlfriend to one of the games, and he talked about how everyone was glad when you said you had broken up with her, because apparently the whole team thought you could do better.

It was at the stage where her feelings for you it was a constant in her life, and there was no questioning it anymore, but she's almost gotten used to it. Or at least, she was until it was time for the team to travel up to Boston and play against the Red Sox.

The press team traveled with the rest of the players on the same bus, so Natasha got to spend her entire ride to Boston pretending like she wasn't staring at you as you spoke quietly to Loki and scribbled down things in your notebook. This was going to be an important few days, and even those who wouldn't be on the field were nervous about the upcoming games. She tried to just put her headphones in and sleep, but her mind was running too fast for that to happen.

When they arrived at the hotel, Steve was sent inside to pick up the room keys for everyone. It was no question that they would be sharing rooms, but that was never an issue for Natasha. Because she was the only female player, she usually got her own hotel room, and there was no reason for this to be any different, so that's why it was so surprising when Steve handed her a key and said that she would be sharing a hotel room with you.

"There was a mixup with the rooms, and they were two rooms short," he said, an apologetic look on his face. Natasha was just glad it was Steve handing out the room keys and not Bucky, because would be making jokes right now that she would never want children (or the rest of the team) to hear. You didn't seem too bothered by the change of plans (you usually had your own room too, but that was because the press team had always booked separately before this trip.)

"Who else has to share?" she asked Steve.

"Usually we have an odd number of guys, so we take turns getting the single room," Steve said. "But this time, Thor and Loki are going to have to share a room." That wasn't too bad, they were brothers after all.

"It's no problem Steve," you said, and Natasha tried to hide her smile as she heard you.

After everyone got off the bus, Natasha heard you say her name and turned to face you. "Wanna go find our room?" you asked, and she nodded. The walk over to the elevator was silent, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Natasha had learned at this point that you weren't terribly outgoing in real life the same way you were on TV. In fact, you and Loki were the more soft spoken members of the press team, despite the type of broadcasting you did. She tried to keep her joy about sharing a room with you to herself as the two of you stepped out onto your floor and found the number that matched the key cards in your hand.

But the moment they stepped inside, a problem emerged. There was only one bed. Steve had obviously failed to mention that little bit of information, and Natasha didn't know if she wanted to strangle him of hug him.

You groaned, and that felt like a stab to the heart. "They must have given us the wrong key," you said. "The team never books rooms with single beds, even when there's an odd number."

Natasha tried to keep her composure, and she just nodded in response. This was something out a dream, or a terrible romance movie, and she couldn't believe her luck. But it was a blessing and a curse, because yeah, she might be sharing a bed with the woman she's been crushing on since her first game as a Yankee, but it also didn't seem like you were too excited about the situation.

You turned to look back at Natasha, and she must have had an awkward look on her face, because your eyes widened. "I didn't mean that I don't mind sharing the bed if we have to," you said quickly. "But it's just that our trips to Boston never go as planned, and I was really hoping for everything to go off without a hitch this year."

Natasha nodded. It was some comfort to know that you didn't find her repulsive, and she wasn't even sure what she wanted the outcome of the situation to be. Did she want to get another room? Or did she want to sleep next to you for four nights, hoping that she might be able to press her body against yours. But this was obviously not going to change anything, because you had a rule about dating people at work, and there was no way the two of you would just cuddle in bed all night (even though that's what she desperately wanted to happen).

She resolved not to tell Bucky (or anyone on the team) about their room issue before she went down to meet everyone for dinner.

You had gone to the front desk to see if there had been some kind of mistake, but unfortunately the room with the one bed was all the hotel had. She tried not to seem like she was trying to hide something when she spoke to the rest of her teammates about the game the following evening, and even accepted their offer to come out drinking with everyone.

It was nothing special, everyone just had one drink and then the group dispersed. They had an important game the next day, so it wasn't exactly the most opportune time to party and let loose. Natasha walked back to the hotel room with you, and everything seemed fine as the two of you showered and got ready for bed, until it was time to actually get in bed.

Not only was it the most awkward experience of Natasha's life as the two of you got into bed together, that awkwardness persisted long after the lights went out. She laid there, still as a statue, wondering how you were dealing with this strange situation (because she wasn't doing well with it). This was something out of both a dream and a nightmare, because yes, you were laying in bed with her, but there was nothing romantic about it. And maybe she could have just made her move before when you were all enjoying your drinks, but if you had turned her down it would have made these moments even more awkward. Natasha was stuck like this, all while what felt like hours passed by (even though according to the clock it was only twenty minutes), all with her frozen in place.

Eventually, the universe took pity on her, and she was allowed to drift off to dreamland. She had an important game the following day, and pining over you was definitely not the best way to prepare for that.

- end of part three -

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #marvel #marvel x reader #wlw x reader #home run romance fic

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oscolotlxzooxx · 28 days

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(N)ever- Lasting Farmer

Sebastian’s POV

Chapter one

Characters in this fic:・Sebastian ・Sam・mentions Robin and Demetrius・and an OC Hunter (The Farmer)・ selma(daughter)・Saigon(brother)・

Summary

Sebastian, excitedly ready to see the love of his life on their four year anniversary, stumbles in on a very shocking sighting as he is gifted with heartbreak and anger.

・Angst・

・Negative・

・heart break・

・sensitive topics・

↓ divider Credit ↓

Plain black divider

Moon and star divider

・OC explained・

This OC is created and played by my bf, who told me about his gameplay, and so I decided to wip up a fanfic of it because you guys love angst, and I love crushing people's hearts ✍️ hehe.

I didn't know what to believe in that exact moment, to be honest? If it were for the fact that I was excitedly walking home on a sunny morning, thinking that today was going to be a fun day-flowers in hand-ready to greet my lovely husband at his very decorated and well organized farm house that we had put together with our sweat and tears; or if it were the distraught and overall disbelief on my face when I opened that same door that held many cherishable memories of us since day one of us being together, did I see my best friend and my husband holding hands on the couch, that I had bought, watching a film that only him and I would watch on special occasions like today.. Our four year anniversary.

I dropped the flowers that I had delicately picked out, which held only the most favorable ones my husband had liked, now on the floor to add on to the already invisible cracks that were seemingly being led on across the walls of the house my mom had carefully built with all her love and dedication for me and my husband to happily live in, now being shared by no other than my best friend since kindergarten.

If you couldn't already tell by my choice of words, I was in shambles seeing them close together like the world had only revolved around them, nothing more. How painful it was to see two of the people I hold dear, abusing it to get with each other.

“.. Hunter?” I called out to him in shakey volume as I walked in the darkness of what once was bright and calming, now in a negative state of untrustworthy behavior.

I could see my husband look away from the film with a shocked expression, looking at me with an almost apologetic look as he cautiously let go of my best friend's hand. The warmth of his hand could almost be replaceable with mine, yet the craveness in Hunter’s eyes, could I tell that he was more inclined to be in love with the touch by him, than he ever felt with mine.

“I-it’s..it’s not what it looks like, baby..please!” Hunter tried to start with his tone soft and sweet like all those other times where I had breakdowns about my struggles, and he would always reassure me with that damn voice that seemed to make me float on peaceful clouds.. Not his time.. Not again.

“How can you do this to me? To us? Do you know how long we've been together?” making my voice more loud and clear, breaking off the heavens that were once by our side when we first decided to get together. It was like all walls came crashing down. My will to make things work also came crashing down.

“Baby, please! Look, I can explain-” Hunter tried to continue with his excuse, but I didn't falter into his tricks. I kept yelling with reason.. With meaning..

“Don't ever call me that again, you hear? How can you fuck around like that with MY best friend? We have kids, Hunter.. KIDS! how will they react when they start to realize that we're not going to be in the same room under the same goddamn roof, huh? How will they react when they find out that you're a cheating son of a BITCH-” With anger in my voice, I suddenly stop talking to hear an even angrier voice that I hate to remember, piercing at the strings that had held my heart together.

“Don't you DARE finish that sentence, Seb. Don't blame this on Hunter. I made the move, alright?” with fear in my eyes, I see Sam, my best friend, get up to point a dagger-like-finger to my chest to emphasize his feelings.

"So YOU made the move on MY husband, and he just, what? Accepted it? Did you force him, you disgusting piece of SHIT!” I grabbed at his shirt to pull him close just to push him outwards with all the strength I had left. How distrusting these strangers I cared to get close too.

"Sam?! You?- no! I made the move, I don't know what he's saying, but I-.. We?.. I-it WON'T happen again!” Hunter then got up to get in front of me and Sam.. How familiar that looks, huh..?

“Yeah.. You're right. It won't happen again, because you know why? Cause I'm through with you, you hear? We're OVER! I'm getting us the divorce papers in a few weeks.. I'm packing my shit." As if all my anger could grow stronger, something in me didn't hold out too long with a crack to my voice by the end of my tantrum, did Hunter realize, if he even cared for me, how truly hurt I was.

“Sebastian, stop right there-” I heard Sam try to stop me until I heard Hunter stop him with his whole body as I walked to the room that I used to share with my love and only to grab my things.

“Don't stop him, Sam.. Let him do his thing." Hunter said, as quiet as I heard him say it only punched me in my feelings even more. Hearing how accepting he already was to see me leave him.. And this house? My kids? My feelings for Hunter? It's all going to waste. As I pack my things I think of how I'm truly restarting my life when I thought full heartedly that I would stay with someone who I was truly committed with.

As I kneeled down in front of a suitcase I thought I had long forgotten-the same one I used when moving into the farmhouse-I suddenly felt a soft tug from the bottom of my shirt. The same soft tugs I got when Hunter and I had agreed to have another person in our home, I turned my head to look at Selma.. Our daughter..

Weaving away any sad thoughts I had before, I take Selma into my arms and looked at her with a soft smile, and apologetic eyes.

“Selma.. Hi sweetie.." I said, pulling off whatever happiness I had left in me to show my beautiful daughter my love and care for her in my arms.

“Daddy!" Selma said with the most sweetest smile plastered on her face as she tried to grab my nose. The last time I will ever see my smiling daughter, with her silly little antsy movements with her hands as she had always tried grabbing my nose anytime I held her close. Even after getting out of her newborn phase, she always grew a type of urge to grab my face to tell herself that I am really here, and I always will be here by her side.. Oh Selma.. My beautiful sweet girl.. I'm sorry it had to be like this.

“Daddy’s going away for a little bit.. I don't know when I'll be back, sweetie.. You'll take care of your brother Saigon, right princess?” I said empathetically, never wiping off the reassuring smile I put on for my daughter as she looked at me with confused, wandering eyes.

“Yes, daddy! I’ll always take care of brother!" Selma said happily, nonetheless. As I hugged her with all my might I had left, I sat her down to motion her to her brother, and off she went.

I watched her take off to her and her brother’s room, only to be gifted the sight of Sam’s presence resting his upper body against the door frame with his arms crossed as if he was getting a kick out of my pain and sorrow of the situation.

I glance up at him with an angry look, and turned back to my suitcase to put the last few things in its collective spot until zipping up the suitcase and helping myself up off the ground for get ready to pass Sam out of the doorway only to be stopped by a hovering arm blocking my only exit.

“Don't do this Seb.”

“Don't do what? Leave my cheating husband and who was once my best friend? You both are strangers to me.. Strangers!" I said with a crack in my voice as I didn't leave my eyes off the hovering arm that was still blocking my exit.

“Now if you’ll excuse me..I'll be saying goodbye to my children, and I'll be on my way.” I was firm with my voice that time; glaring at the stranger who once had been there for me ever since we got to know each other. The one who had momentarily stopped my addictions. The one who's been there when I've been getting into fights. Even when it was something dumb or fucked up, he'd been there. But now? I don't know where he is now.

I can see the pain in his eyes, however. How telling those blue eyes looked. It pierced a permanent arrow right through my heart., and I know it did for him as well.

I moved his blocking figure with a harsh nudge with my shoulder, and I walked to where both my kids were currently at. I looked at them both with apologetic and sorrowful eyes as they gave me bright, and hopeful ones. Oh how I'm going to miss these two.. I gave them both hugs and kisses, as well as telling them how much I loved them and wished it wouldn't be this way, but I also gave them hope for the future that I will see them as often as I could, if Hunter would let me..

As I walked out of the room, ignoring the adults that played the victim’s, I walked out without batting another glance at them to show how heartbroken I've truly become with the trust that I had lost with them both.. To know that they would go that extra mile to hurting me and this relationship that I was fully committed to having.. Went straight down the drain as I am now back to square one.

Moving back in with Mom would not be easy since I have to relive the guilt and trauma I had with her husband, Demetrius. What would he think now that I'm coming back?

Would he look at me differently, whether the look is more empathetic now than hatred and disappointment? Or would he straight up disown me right as I move back in without getting Moms’ word on it?

Whether the case may be, I'm not looking forward to it.

#stardew valley #sv sebastian #oc #stardew sebastian #stardew valley fanfic #fanfiction #sv fanfic #Angst #Sv angst #sfw little community #writers on tumblr

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golbrocklovely · 1 month

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im pretty sure we've talked about this multiple times before and no hate to the girl this is probably just me being insecure about myself but honestly im not even surprised about the girl colby is dating clearly shes had some plastic surgery done but i was really rooting for him to be dating a girl that's natural and it sucks to see all this plastic surgery on social media. it seems like the only girls guys date on here are the same body type; big boobs, big butt, small waist.. i guess i just wish there was more natural body representation if that makes sense

i've said my stance on this a number of times but i'll say it again just to make it a bit clearer.

while i understand why you might think this way, bc genuinely i've been in your shoes before, allow me to explain why i don't think like this anymore.

i wrote way too much so i'm sorry in advance lol

this is the first time, ever, that colby has admitted to dating a specific girl. we've seen some that we can guess he was with, or maybe had something going on there, but no actual full on confirmations. so there is really nothing to base malia off of.

we don't know what colby's type is. i know a lot of ppl think they have an idea but reality is we don't know bc we're not colby/we don't know him like that. he has been with a lot of different girls over the years and none of them are similar in anyway, body wise.

now, i know you're not trying to say this, but how your statement comes across is us vs them. or really "anyone that's gotten work done is lesser than those that haven't." bc if there really was no difference between someone that hasn't had work vs someone who has, you wouldn't be talking about this at all. you turn plastic surgery into a negative when in a lot of ways it can be positive.

but that's not to negate the negative effects society has place on women to look a certain way and thus the absolute rise in plastic surgery, fillers, and botox over the years. societal standards of beauty are bullshit and misogyny harms all of us.

i do have to ask, or just raise the question of… do you feel this same way about katelyn? or kat even? bc they were both skinny, pretty, dark haired girls that sam dated/is dating. and yet, you aren't asking him to date a more "natural" shaped woman. i just wanna know why colby has to be the exception. i'm also sure you know men in your own life who have types. do you call them out for only dating those types? just wondering.

i'm saying this as someone who has been in your exact shoes years ago. when i first got into the fandom, i genuinely was upset at colby for his dating habits and felt like he would never date someone that looked like me and that also led to me not ever feeling like i could be reposted by them for merch pics, bc bodies like mine just aren't as accepted.

but i need to make it abundantly clear: you have to stop relying on snc to make you love yourself. and i mean that in the nicest way possible.

snc are two random guys who most likely don't know who you are. you cannot rely on them to bring your self esteem up or to make you feel worthy of love. you have to do internal work and find a way to love yourself regardless of others, bc at the end of the day - you only have yourself.

i love snc, truly, but i don't give a rat's ass if they would find me hot. i find me hot. and that's all that matters. anyone that doesn't find me hot… that's their loss. bc i'm cute, have a big ass, and i'm funny.

10s across the board if you ask me lol

but to bring it back to snc, or colby specifically, the amount of insecurities i have towards myself were not his fault. he was not the one that made me feel like shit about myself, so i cannot take it out on him to try and fix me. he is one person with his own set of issues, who doesn't know i exist. and while it's easier to blame him and wish he was the one stand out, wattpad bf i wish he could be, reality is he too probably also likes a woman with big tits and a big ass. and there ain't nothing wrong with that, since he probably ALSO likes a girl with a personality too. bc fun fact, women with big tits and ass can also have a nice personality.

i'm not saying any of this to be mean to you genuinely. i get your thought process and feelings 100%. i just think you are placing a lot of your frustration on the wrong person. society as a whole is to blame for why you and i don't like ourselves. if anything, colby has helped me like myself more. i think we should try not to let his personal choices feel like a strike against us, if that makes any sense. he isn't dating someone like malia out of spite bc of plus size/natural body type fans. he's dating her bc he loves her, bc he found someone that makes him open up for the first time in a long time. and that should be celebrated, rather than shot down.

#ask #personal #cb ll

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malicious-compliance-esq · 1 year

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Also, I meant to say this in response to your headcanons but got carried away by other things. I absolutely agree that Tavington is looking forward to the horny swordfight. I got started on a meta about the perverse courtship between Tavington and Martin that that scene illustrates particularly well, but as I drew closer to the end it got quite depressing, and I think I've abandoned it. But, yes!

I've only seen the first season of Outlander, but I did watch the final fight between Jamie Fraser and JBR, and it made me feel kind of . . . jealous . . . on Tavington's behalf!

Why didn't he get to die on top of Martin, who was also half dead? It was what he deserved, and it's homophobic of the filmmakers to not give it to him.

We’re back with a new Ask from @lyledebeast who has been busy having Correct Opinions about the Battle of Culloden sequence in Outlander S3E1 and its connections to the Colonel Tavington / Benjamin Martin final confrontation in The Patriot...

I couldn’t agree more with this assessment, honestly! From what I understand, the showrunners gave Tobias Menzies and Sam Heughan loose guidance to draw on the final sequence from The Patriot and the sex scene from Cold Mountain in equal measure. They definitely delivered on that and then some. We don’t initially see as much of the fight sequence itself in the books, so I loved the artistic direction the show went in with developing the stuff that later shows up in all of Jamie Fraser’s wild horny dreams about Black Jack Randall. Which he’s still having 20+ years after killing the guy in canon, much to his spouse Claire’s bewilderment. He even goes so far as to ramble about the weird BJR sex dreams to his sister Jenny, who seems to understand a bit better why this is still happening.

Unfortunately Black Jack making absolutely garbage choices at the end of Season 1 (after a promising grand gesture of saving Jamie from the gallows after he got arrested for treason charges that Randall had nothing to do with) sealed his fate when things could have easily gone another way. Most of my fics change the specific events of S1E15-16 and the corresponding content from the Outlander novel enough to make other trajectories possible for the two of them. This is plausibly canonical if one considers the potential consequences of Roger MacKenzie Wakefield’s visit to Fort William in 1739 in Written in My Own Heart’s Blood but I won’t get into the weeds about that here.

TL;DR: Black Jack deserved everything he got at Culloden in canon, but between him and Jamie BJR was the only one who found any peace from the outcome of that confrontation. Jamie wound up imprisoned for years on end and tortured all the more by his memories of Black Jack. Awful—and thus an exquisitely poignant commentary on how violence is a cycle that brings everyone to ruin.

BJR and Jamie could’ve had it so much better, so I’ve been going HAM exploring other timelines for the two of them. This includes reading between the lines of the show and books a lot to explore the clear implications that Randall himself has been abused by the Duke of Sandringham for years. Another depressing meta topic that I’ve written about before, and certainly a valuable context for why he winds up so broken and so unable to disentangle violence and affection with other men.

This is an interesting angle to explore re: Tavington and Martin. I often see the relationship between Black Jack and Jamie as a sort of photo negative of the Will/Ben dynamic. Indeed, one can look at Randall and Tavington as negative images of one another in a more general sense:

The worst things Randall does are focused entirely on one guy; he has zero interest in expanding these beyond Jamie and in fact actively eschews opportunities to attack other Highlanders beyond the punch-clock minimum of doing his job, which he also hates. This is fairly clear in the books, but even more so in the show. That Culloden sequence literally shows him shooing people away from his horse with the flat of his cavalry saber in the middle of an all-out bloodbath. He’s only there to go willingly to his death by fighting Jamie because he thinks he truly is irredeemable and can’t bear to face the even scarier prospect of dealing with his feelings for the other person he’s now entangled with.

On a broader scale Randall makes no secret of his distaste for killing and anything to do with it, is visibly shaken by violence against other people in his regiment, and goes on a lengthy ramble in a deleted scene from S1E8—I’m totally with you on deleted scenes “counting” by the way—about how he doesn’t give a damn about the war or the Crown. He basically says he just wants to stop being miserable and lonely in a freezing cold place and go back home to Sussex and take a proper hot bath. We find out later exactly why Randall has been serving all this time and like Tavy’s backstory, it’s a heartbreaker. But when it comes to that one guy who is the focus of all the worst parts of Black Jack’s twisted psyche…boy does he ever go deep, literally and figuratively. Even then, it's complicated—nothing is ever quick or simple with Randall.

Then we’ve got Tavington, who gleefully burns a church full of townspeople who did nothing except let someone exist and breathe. But he makes it eminently clear that this isn’t remotely personal, simply the cost of doing business for a cause he truly believes in. Not so much the Crown itself, but honor and the fight against hypocrisy. His eye-rolling takedown of chattel enslavement of Black people is one of many reasons I love Tavy. I also wonder if he burned that church not so much because it had people inside it but specifically because it was a church. We certainly spend enough time discussing religious trauma in the BJR fandom—check his “what kind of world” soliloquy in S2E12—that it’s easy to see why Tavington would have a grudge against organized Christianity and especially the Puritanical American version.

There's also Tavington's horny fixation with Martin and how he leans into every opportunity to form a trauma bond with him. But rather than pushing the envelope too far and raping him when dude is still way to repressed to admit he’s bi and that Dougal MacKenzie’s assessment of what was actually happening in Jamie’s head during that savage flogging at Fort William was entirely correct, Will kills two of Ben’s kids right in front of him. Brutal and yet weirdly humane in sort of an inverse way. The “butcher” moniker really tracks here—quick, surgical, painless and purely physical rather than a whole mix of things physically that are almost secondary to the psychological angle. Tavington kills plenty of people, but seems to have no interest in making any of them suffer. He actually cares about the broader purpose behind his job even if he only started doing it initially because of his own family’s misfortunes.

I see overlap between Tavy and BJR here in the area of wanting to become the primary source of comfort for a person they’ve hurt. Very different pathways to causing that pain, but similar desires underneath—right down to the horny death wish. “Kill me before the war is over” is Tavington’s equivalent with Martin of Randall saying “kill me, my heart’s desire” to Jamie.

I absolutely think they deserved a more explicitly randy final fight with Will landing on top of Ben to protect him from being wounded in any further fighting the way Black Jack does with Jamie in the Outlander show and books. The TV show version of that sequence made this quite explicit. If you watched all of S3E1 then you saw BJR reach out for Jamie as he collapsed, at once a final expression of his own feelings and an intentional transfer of protection.

The theme of a person giving someone the protection of their body shows up constantly in Outlander and has been the subject of many keysmashing blorbo breakdowns I’ve had on Discord these past few months. Note that in Outlander Jamie even leaves a highly symbolic object on the battlefield with Black Jack—the meaning of this will become clear once you watch the later episodes in Season 2, but it really drives the message home that the deeper feelings between BJR and Jamie were anything but one-sided.

And then of course there’s the poignant symbolism of dying in the arms of the person who understood someone best, and who connected with them the most emotionally even if that connection was terribly fraught. Tavington and Martin exemplify this every bit as much as Randall and Fraser do, in my opinion. The chemistry between them is palpable from the very first, and even with the homoeroticism of their dynamic set at a lower volume visually in the specific choices the production crew made for the final sequence in The Patriot that energy is definitely there.

I love your turn of phrase here also in describing the relationship between Will and Ben as a “perverse courtship”—very accurate, and certainly convergent with the dynamics we see between Black Jack and Jamie in the Outlander canon. There’s little ambiguity that for Randall this was one of only a couple of times he’d ever been in love, and the same for Fraser. And in both universes as in so many great tragedies throughout the ages, we see the terrible consequences of war through the lens of doomed love.

As Claire Beauchamp points out in Outlander “there’s always another fucking war” waiting to destroy lives the same way all over again. So I love the possibilities transformative work offers for envisioning a world where moderately to severely traumatized Evil Redcoats can find some healing of their own. You can’t avoid Martin and Fraser being completely shattered after killing their adversaries unless you rework the canon with Tavington and Randall making just enough different choices to invite other futures. And goodness, is that ever a real pleasure for us writers!

#ask dr. compliance #lyledebeast #small fandoms #the patriot #william tavington #jason isaacs #outlander starz #black jack randall #tobias menzies #fanfic #ao3 #character analysis #villain discourse #evil redcoat pipeline #delightful #yes good

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sadieshavingsex · 1 year

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I think that the way evangelicalism wires neural pathways near-fundamentally (ha ha) destroys certain experiences and concepts. Like, anyone can change, but I think it could take me many many years to get there. I’m thinking of this idea today particularly in terms of consent.

I am so lucky that despite becoming evangelical, I went to a fantastic college with no religious affiliation where I realized being a fundie probably wasn’t for me. While there, I remember everyone made a huge deal about consent. I was looking back at some old college newspaper articles from when I went to school there, and it seems like I was there during this time when the school was making a shift toward enthusiastic consent. As I go back and read some of the articles that I remember reading—or at least hearing about—as an undergrad, I can see how the concept of consent can very quickly lose all meaning when someone already lives a life where they are constantly coerced into certain viewpoints.

If this feels like a really triggering conversation for you, please protect your peace in whatever way you need! If you'd like to read on, I'm going to discuss a little bit about my own personal sexual experiences that seem to fall in a consent gray area, and how looking back at these experiences has caused me to begin to see consent as a concept that loses meaning in the context of the evangelical church.

Evangelicalism has very strict rules for when you are allowed to express your sexuality, and I feel like it largely steals your ability to consent as a result. It takes away your sexual self-concept. Even now, several years out of church, I can scarcely imagine a world where I would ever initiate a sexual relationship with someone who wasn’t my husband. In my mind, I may never be able to give enthusiastic consent outside of that situation. I will always be plagued by doubts and fears and the massive weight of GUILT. Sex outside of marriage might always be bad and wrong in my mind, no matter how I spin it. As a result, I get nervous and preoccupied when asked to give consent, because it's simply not going to be an enthusiastic thing. There are too many negative thoughts swirling around in my head, and this state really makes it difficult to have a fulfilling sex life. I feel like I'm doing something wrong and irresponsible by not being 100% certain about having sex, but I don't realistically think I'm ever going to get to that point outside of marriage. I’ll tell you a little about how this problem plays out in my life.

When I started falling in love with my current partner, Sam, he said that we shouldn’t become a couple because he enjoyed having sex with his partners, and he knew how I felt about that. He didn't want us to get into a situation where I felt obligated to do anything sexual with or for him, so he figured it was just best not to date and open that can of worms. I’d said terrible things about sex a zillion times—I could not possibly fathom the feelings of guilt, dread, terror, etc. that I knew I would feel after orgasming with someone else. (For me, orgasm was always the tipping point. As a kid, if I didn’t orgasm, I didn’t count the whole thing as that bad of a sin.)

Sam initially suggested that maybe I'd just had bad experiences or neglectful partners before, but I made it clear that I'd always orgasmed and all that. I really wanted to be with Sam, but I revealed to him that I didn’t like sex because it made me feel personally bad, outside of any church messaging. I enjoyed the buildup, but ever since I was a kid, I had always felt low after orgasming, and that made it feel like something that wasn't worth it. Sam tried to dig far beyond that explanation. We continued discussing sex, which sometimes felt uncomfortable to me. I felt somewhat pressured, but I think he was genuinely trying to get to the bottom of why I didn’t like it if I admitted it felt good until the orgasm, the part I had always conceptualized as the sinful moment. I think he had a hunch that even though I was a fairly anti-church person, I’d adopted this view of sex from the time I had spent deeply involved in the church.

I couldn’t remember a time when I had sex or touched myself without thinking that I was doing something wrong. I can’t even really remember being told that it was wrong. But in my mind I knew it was. So pretty much since I started masturbating, I had always been trying to stop. In my mind, getting “sober” from sex had always been a huge part of my personality and life journey.

I think I always kind of knew that this would be a problem for me, because in the abstract sense, I actually did want sex. I sometimes read nsfw fanfiction and had to bend the rules of it by imagining that the characters were married. You know what I mean? In terms of exploring sexually, I think that I also enjoyed getting as close as possible to orgasm, but if I went over the edge, the wave of self-hate would settle in.

Before I became really close friends with Sam, I wondered about how to communicate this issue if we ended up together. I didn’t want to date people who would never want to have sex (like, for instance, another sex-repulsed person), because I did feel sexual attraction and want to have sex at some point. I just couldn't imagine that being something I would do before I got married, or at least engaged. So, in my mind, the next option would have been a Christian person. But I didn’t want to date a Christian person because I wanted to be seen as a human being, not property. I wanted to have intellectual conversations and feel understood and cared for and that had not always been the case when I had my fundie boyfriend. So I guess I ideally wanted a partner exactly like me: a hardcore leftist who wanted sex but only after marriage. A little tough to find.

I was falling for Sam and I really wanted it to work out between us, and despite the fact that we had said we wouldn’t date, we kept moving in that direction. It was a pull! We were falling in love! With the last guy I’d been with who had wanted sex, I’d figured out a compromise—we did the awful dry humping thing even though we were well past being teenagers. So, after I finally kissed Sam, I decided we should try that as a compromise that both of us were comfortable with. With the last guy, I had always been able to just hop off when I was getting too close.

But with Sam it was really difficult. I loved the person I was kissing. I wanted to make him feel good. I had visions that we would be together for so long. I thought it had to be true that we’d eventually have sex. I also felt probably more than a little pressured—in his mind, not dating protected me from feeling like I had to give him sex, but in my mind, my ability to have sex would open the ability to date. I think that I was thinking about all this and probably more at the time. Whatever the case, I accidentally orgasmed.

Here's what happens after that: I'm shocked and start crying, he’s holding me and saying how proud he is that I’m working through this and I’m so brave, it actually happens a second time because then I feel a little like if it's happened once how can another time be that bad, I go home and think to myself that it’s good that I finally did something instead of being paralyzed out of fear, but I also think maybe I'm just repeating his words, his concept of the situation. In the coming days and weeks, I start trying to ease myself into touching myself, into letting myself experience that, and also into letting myself experience sex with him, but I’m wondering if this is even something I want. My body is so resistant to it. But of course now I’m putting the expectation on myself that I've done it once and should do it again (Sam keeps trying to tell me he never expects anything of me, he just wants me to be happy and do what I really want without the influence of him or religion). And sometimes, in rare moments when I feel free of all pressure, I really would like to try sex. Slowly but surely, we do, but sometimes I feel bad afterward, and even beforehand, so that it can be hard to start.

How does consent even factor into this scenario? I said, "no, I can’t do that." I ended up doing it. Sometimes I decide I want to. Sometimes I’m deathly afraid. I often worry that maybe the initial scenario happened because I felt pressured into it. But at the same time, I live in a post-evangelical mindfuck where I would have been too stubborn and too scared to ever let it happen otherwise. My mind is completely blocked when it comes to the idea of beginning a sexual relationship with someone before marriage. I can understand how to continue one, but if I ever end up in another relationship, I assume that I’ll just revert back to never having sex until I accidentally do. This was essentially what happened in my first relationship as well. I said “no, no, no,” got closer and closer out of curiosity or pressure or what have you, accidentally orgasmed one day, and then had ups and downs of total sexual dysfunction—the only difference is that in that relationship I was still evangelical, which made the fear and self-doubt exponentially worse.

When you’re in this brainwashed evangelical mindset, there is no option to consent without hellfire and damnation, so if you really believe the teachings and develop a suffocatingly intense sense of self-control (which of course is posited as a good thing in these spaces) you just don’t. There is no space to give enthusiastic consent before marriage. It’s very likely that you get to a point where you only have sex “by accident” or in a way that you characterize as “just a mistake.” And using that language only affirms those sexual experiences as taboo and obviously wrong, painful, etc. The grooves become so deep in your brain, of course you struggle with the ability to ever see sex as good and wanted, even though you keep having it and—god forbid—may even want to explore it!!

This is something that I’ve become really passionate about considering lately because I hate the feeling that I have to interrogate and narrativize the first time I orgasmed with my current partner—I wonder to myself whether I felt pressured, whether I really wanted to orgasm or not, whether it was okay to do, whether he was hurting or helping me, whether our intentions for each other were good so it’s okay, etc etc and on and on. I love my partner and I don’t want to think that he did something unforgivable, but the evangelical programming in me wants to say that of course I didn’t want it, I was pressured, because it’s impossible for me to want it because I know how bad it is.

It took this experience of the accidental orgasm to crack open a possible escape from that seemingly unbreakable evangelical thought chamber. This experience that is bittersweet and scary. Because evangelicalism stole the tools for me to be able to experience sex in an empowering way through enthusiastic consent. I’m not very in touch with my body and my sexuality. Sometimes just thinking about sex causes an almost indescribable gloom to descend over me—I genuinely feel like my heart rate slows and I go into a mini-hibernation, I guess because the task of thinking about this stuff is so difficult. I know I never would have said yes without this “accident,” but I don’t even know how to understand if I wouldn’t say yes because I genuinely don’t want it even though it feels good, or if I wouldn’t say yes because I’ve been programmed not to want it since before I even knew what sex was. It doesn’t feel fair to struggle this intensely to develop this kind of self-concept, especially when not developing it threatens to poison healthy and supportive relationships with confusion around consent.

I still rarely ever give enthusiastic consent—my phrase of choice is “let’s just try,” because I have to allow myself the opportunity to back out, the non-committal space to even just attempt an experience that I think I might want but am also deathly terrified of. Often, once I get into it, the fear goes away.

#sexually repressed #eriscarnal #acorsexual #exvangelical #ex fundie #ex fundamentalist #ex christian #how's this for your morning #religious trauma #mine #I actually quite like this it allows a feeling of calm to come over me #I think because it feels like a confession lol #consent #relationship anxiety

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andreabaideas · 2 months

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Thanks for the feedback. I'm sorry for the negative comments you received. It was very clear that it was about the chemistry in the films and series. Looking forward about the chemistry between on-screen friendship. I think Sam is one of the few actors who can have chemistry with almost all of his co-stars, he's incredible. IMO Jen Lawrence has more chemistry with him than with Liam and Josh. I love The Book of Love. He seems to have had fun making this movie.

Dont worry, I just write what I want...So yeah sometimes feedback Its bound to be Bad, I never shut up anyway...XD

I going to publish the frienship/ or romantic chemistry II post this week, so stay tunned!

Yeah, I found that Sam and Jen had lots of chemistry too, my Mom, Who hadnt read the books at first thought he was going to be the new boyfriend for Katniss 😅.

I love the Book of Love too!! ☺️

#answered asks #sam claflin

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mcyt-peach · 2 years

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hi peach! i was wondering if i can request a fluff cc!awesamdude x f!reader drabble or headcanon (whatever you prefer / are more comfortable with) with reader having a bad day or being sad and sam taking care of her?

thank you so much :D

hands that heal

·˚ * summary: after an awful day, there's nothing you want more than to have Sam take care of you

·˚ * pairing: cc!awesamdude x fem!reader

·˚ * warnings: negative thoughts, reader uses she/her pronouns, crying, self doubt

·˚ * word count: 634

·˚ * genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

·˚ * note: I can't express how much I loved writing this, Sam just seems like the perfect boyfriend and I hope you like it :)

Bad days were inevitable. There would always be a day where things didn’t go the way they were supposed to and you struggled with your usual tasks. But today wasn’t just a bad day, it was a downright terrible one.

Nothing was going your way and it took everything in you to not break down. All you wanted to do was lie down on your bed and try not to think about just how awful you were feeling.

You try not to make too much noise when you enter the house, slipping off your shoes by the door and tiptoeing around the living room.

Sam’s voice sounds muffled from your place on the couch. He’s probably streaming, having fun with chat and his friends.

Maybe you should tell him. Knock on the door, interrupt, take up space. You weren’t selfish enough to stop him from enjoying his day. To make him take care of you when you should be able to do it yourself.

Your body curls up into itself before you can stop. Turning your face into the pillow, you can only hope to keep the meltdown away.

“Baby.” You bury your face further into the pillow, too embarrassed to face him.

“Baby, look at me.” His voice is steady, gentle, hoping not to scare you away.

You hardly realize you’ve been crying until you turn to face him and find your vision blurred. When the tears do fall, his fingers sweep at the corners of your eyes, stopping them before they cascade down.

His face finally becomes clear and suddenly you want to cry all over again. You can’t find a speck of anger in his stare. Only a warm smile and a little bit of concern.

Your body dips as he sits down next to you and before you know it, he’s dragging you across the couch and onto his lap.

He cradles your face in his wide hands, fingertips skimming your skin. His hold is firm, but when you move to lie against him, he lets you.

“Do you wanna talk about what happened?” His chest vibrates against your cheek when he speaks.

You shake your head and he hums in understanding.

This time, his hands move up and down your back. His movements are light but still fill you with a sense of contentment.

“Why didn’t you tell me, baby?” Your eyes open, not that you realize they’d ever closed, too caught up in relaxing for the first time today.

You push further into the hoodie he’s wearing, mumbling out an answer.

“You gotta speak up, pretty thing.” You know if you stayed quiet, he’d let you. Sam never pushed you to talk, always one to be respectful of your boundaries.

But that was the thing about Sam. You never wanted to keep things from him anyway.

“I just didn’t wanna bother you, Sammy.” It feels childish to admit. Makes you feel small and too needy.

Once again, his hands are lifting your face to his. You right yourself on his lap, busying yourself with evening out the strings of his hoodie, instead of meeting his gaze.

“Hey.” He doesn’t continue until you look at him, “You’re my girl. Ok? That means I love all of you, not just the happy parts.”

“Sammyyyy, stop being so cute, you’re gonna make me cry again.” You whine, feeling tears well up in response to his little speech.

With a chuckle he smooths the furrow in your brow with his thumb and kisses the pout from your lips. When he pulls back he’s beaming and the stretch of your own smile is hard to ignore.

It’s hard to feel worthy of someone like Sam, but every time you doubt yourself, he’s there to remind you why you deserve all the love he has to offer.

#dsmp x reader #dream smp fanfiction #dsmp fanfic #dsmp fanfiction #mcyt fanfiction #dream smp fanfic #mcyt fanfic #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt x y/n #awesamdude x you #awesamedude x reader #awesamdude fanfic #awesamdude fluff #awesamdude fanfiction #awesamdude x reader

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garagebandvanfleet · 2 years

Text

Say Something, Say Anything

Pairing: Sam x reader

Warnings: angst (fluff ending), depictions of poor mental health, negative thoughts/dialogue towards self

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Sam was the best thing to happen to you, the only thing standing in your way was you.

Notes: this is based off my own mind/experiences. I never want to offend/misrepresent anyone, and if I do please make me aware. Also, probably ended this very cliche but I’ve come to terms that is just me as a person. if this is terrible I’m sorry.

I carry the same baffled heart I have always carried a bit more battered than before, a bit less joy - D.A. Powell

You sat there with a blank expression on your face, muscles completely relaxed, and eyes void of any emotion. You had been like this for who knows how long, your ears could still pick up the voice speaking to you but your mind had long stopped processing what the words meant. You moved your hand slightly, still feeling the soft material of your comforter between your grasp. Your gaze was locked on the hardwood of your bedroom floor, a chip from when you had rearranged your room was suddenly the most interesting thing you had ever seen. Sam’s hands appeared in your line of sight, one placed on each of your thighs.

“I can’t keep doing this Y/N.” His tone was so broken, if you could register anything right now you would surely not be able to stop the flood of tears. You wanted to say something, anything to get him to stay, but every time you attempted to speak your voice got caught in your throat. “I love you, with my entire being, and it’s breaking me to see you like this. But I don’t know what else to do. You won’t talk to me, you barely look at me anymore. What did I do wrong?”

You finally looked up and made eye contact with Sam. He looked exhausted, dark bags under his eyes and his hair looked as if it hadn’t been washed in a few days. You had been so shut off from the rest of the world that you hadn’t noticed the toll it was taking on the one you loved most. To think that he thought it was his fault broke your soul into the tiniest of pieces.

No one was sweeter on this earth than Sam Kiszka. For the eleven months you had been together, there were little to no complaints. He always left you notes when he had to leave before you woke, his boyish penmanship was adorable, signing each note ‘xxoo’. If you’d text him venting about your horrible day you’d arrive home to dinner on the table, a pair of sweats and one of Sam’s shirts laid out on the bed for you to change into. If he was away he’d send photos of whatever place he was in that day, as well as pictures of himself with goofy expressions. He truly was the most amazing man you had ever met. And you were ruining him.

“Sam.” You had to clear your throat to fight off the lump that still lingered. “It’s not you, I promise.” You couldn’t say anymore. Even though you wanted to, your mind was still plagued with a fog that made it near impossible to formulate the sentence that could so easily fix this situation. Words seemed to fail you when you needed them most and you went numb anytime things got slightly tense. Truthfully, you weren’t sure where these bad habits manifested from and these traits had been the downfall of previous relationships. But with Sam, you thought things would be different, that your mind would stop ruining all things good and finally let you rest wrapped up in the warm blanket that was Sam’s love.

“Then please, give me a way to fix this…or just give me something.” He was begging, down on his knees in front of you with his hands atop your shoulders. When you didn’t say anything he began to rub his hands up and down your arms. He took both your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and peppering the skin with soft kisses. You knew he was just trying to make you feel better, to help calm your mind long enough to tell him not to go. But for some reason, the action irritated you. The kisses produced an unpleasant sound to your ears. His hands were slightly clammy, making you want to pull away from him and wipe off any trace of his touch.

He let another quiet plea, and you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. It wasn’t Sam’s fault, it was you and the way you did this every time, it was unfair of you to direct it towards him. Your body wouldn’t let you be numb for too long, and when your emotions finally turned back on, irritation was usually the one that showed itself first.

Finally, your silence was too much for him. Sam let go of your hands and stood up, running a shaky hand through his chocolate-colored waves. As he stood in the doorway, you could feel his eyes on you, silently begging you to at least look up at him - but that crack in the hardwood still demanded your attention. He didn’t say anything more. You didn’t even flinch when the front door slammed shut, slightly shaking the walls that surrounded you.

The following week the sun shone brightly, Mother Nature mocking you as if to say look how nice it could’ve been. Your regular routine was kept as best it could, not having the luxury of pushing it to the side no matter how badly you wanted to crawl into bed and never leave. You learned to welcome the distractions. Work was busy enough that you seldom had time to think about what day it was let alone allow any thoughts of Sam to enter your mind. You filled your weekends with enough activities that by the time you laid in bed at night you fell asleep before the thoughts could consume you.

Weeks turned to months, and you found yourself waking up on a rainy Saturday with no plans until later at night. You hadn’t spoken with Sam since he left your house, it was for the best - a clean break. The boys had each texted you a few times during the first week, asking what happened and if you were okay, but you quickly cut off contact in attempts to forget everything and everyone associated with Sam. The task proved to be more difficult than anticipated, remnants of Sam were everywhere.

The two of your frequented the vegan bakery in town, so when you had gone in one morning to try and cheer yourself up with a sweet treat and they asked where Sam was, you stopped going. Music wasn’t the same, every song reminded you of him, and the ones that didn’t only seemed to add to your misery. Even while at work you thought about the numerous times Sam had brought you lunch, often staying until you were done for the day.

You decided to busy yourself by rearranging your furniture, in silence, the only noise came from the scraping of the couch and the occasional curse from you. By the time you had finished the sun was beginning to set, tucking itself away to sleep for the night. You had agreed to grab drinks at a local bar with some friends, but as you let the warmth from the shower envelope your body you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and disconnect from the outside world. Unfortunately, that was not an option.

When you exited your bathroom, a towel wrapped around your damp body, your two friends were sprawled out on your bed. Before you could speak one of your friends cut you off. “Don’t even think about it.” You wanted to complain but by the look they gave you, you knew it was a non-negotiable. With your bottom lip jutted out, you make your way to your closet, throwing your limbs about in a similar fashion to that of a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

The bar you were going to wasn’t fancy by any means, a little dive bar tucked away in a corner. You opted for a simple outfit, black jeans and a cream sweater with a pair of white vans.

The bar was busy, as was expected for a Saturday night. While your friends found a table and ordered drinks, you headed towards the bathroom, the sudden urge to cry washed over you. Hot tears blurred your vision and made it near impossible to see more than a foot in front of you. You bumped into someone, mumbling a quick apology, and continued on your path towards the bathroom.

You didn’t get far before a hand was gingerly wrapped around your wrist. Gaze lifting, you’re met with a pair of honey eyes you never thought you’d have the pleasure of seeing in person again. Sam was stood there, looking as handsome as ever, a pool stick in the hand that wasn’t still placed around your wrist. He saw your teary eyes and red face, eyebrows turning down in concern.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” His thumb rubbed soothing circles against your wrist, something he probably didn’t even realize he was doing, easily slipping back into the habit.

Just like the last time you saw him, words failed you. Instead of speaking you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him into a tight embrace. Your grip tightened when you felt him recibrocate the hug, breathing in his familiar scent that hadn’t changed over the months. Holding back your tears was futile when you felt him place a kiss to the top of your head.

Eventually the tears stopped and you pulled your head back enough to look into Sam’s eyes. The sleeve of his cream sweater met your face, wiping away the tears as best he could. “Hey, we’re kind of matching.” You made a face when your voice came out rough. Sam’s eyes lit up as he let out a loud laugh, one that had his head tilting back and nose crinkling. He brought your head back to rest on his chest, the hums of small laughter reverberated through his chest.

“Haven’t seen you in months and that’s the first thing you say to me.” His tone was light, letting you know there was no underlying meaning to his words.

“Missed you.” You didn’t think you had the right to tell him or if he had even heard you, as you mumbled the words into the cotton of his sweater. But the way he let out a sigh and brought you impossibly closer told you he did and that he had missed you too. The next time you looked up at him, you discovered he was already looking at you. Sam moved his face closer, placing his forehead against yours, your breath hitched when his lips met yours in a soft kiss. His thumb caressed your cheek as you both pulled away, only enough to allow you to speak.

“We should probably talk about this…and everything else.”

“Tomorrow.” Lips lightly brushing as he spoke. “Promise.” Sam pulled away, smirking, and handed you a spare pool stick. You rolled your eyes but accepted his offer nonetheless, falling back into rhythm with Sam was effortless.

“Fine. But you’re not allowed to do your happy dance if you win.” You point a finger at him and smile.

“Not if baby, when.”

#sam kiszka #sam gvf #sammy kiszka #sammy kiszka one shot #sam kiszka angst #sam kiszka fanfic #sam kiszka fluff #sam kiszka one shot #sam kiszka imagine #Greta Van Fleet #greta van fleet imagine #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet one shot

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euphoriic-dysphoria · 3 years

Text

Blue hair - Bucky Barnes

Firs time posting something like this on Tumblr, I welcome constructive criticism, anything to make my writing better and easier to read. As long as you're not an ass about it.

Summary: you've wanted to dye your hair for sometime now, but you're too scared to do it all by yourself and it seems like a whole big thing now that you keep kinda wanna do with a friend. Yes I'm projecting😅😅

THERE MIGHT BE A PART TWO, NOT REALLY SURE YET.

Warnings ⚠️ : none, just extreme flustered bucky, whipped bucky, fluff ig yeah. Without further ado,

Bucky was falling for you. Hard. He fell more each and everyday, but somehow, you were either not into him at all, or painfully oblivious.

He said painfully, because everytime you expressed even the slightest discomfort, even if on the Quinjet you just couldn't fall asleep, bucky just had this inexplicable urge to suddenly bring you all the pillows in the world to make you happy and laugh and smile your beautiful smile.

Bucky wasn't stupid. He'd seen how smart you were on missions, and how fast you'd solved riddles to annoy Tony. You would never be oblivious to things like this. He'd long ago accepted that he was just gonna be a friend to you, of course that didn't stop him from daydreaming about you, or freezing up everytime you brushed your arm with his.

After all, some might assume what with bucky falling head over heels for you (literally, but that's a story for another time, including Sam and being at the beach) that you guys were probably best friends or at least pretty close. Nope. Bucky was embarrassed to say that you stole away all his old fashioned Brooklyn charm the minute you were in a 2 meter radius. He was so nervous he stumbled over his words and opted to just stay quiet and enjoy your presence.

Of course, you thought that bucky was just naturally shy, and well- akward. It never occurred to you that you were the cause of that shyness, but you didn't mind. You found it endearing and utterly adorable the way a pale pink would wash over his features, and brush across his nose.

Today, he was utterly relaxed, pink free, in his room in the Avengers tower, reading and trying to get the thought of you out of his mind. That was hard when abruptly a hard knock sounded at his door, and he was just about to turn around and ignore it, when he heard you mumbling and thinking outside. Supersoldierhearing

Closing his book, he straightened up and furrowed his brow, thinking as to why you'd be outside his room. He hoped everything was alright.

"buckkyyyyyyyy! Woa-hiya, how are YOU on this verrrry fine morning?" You stumbled into his room, bucky was so deep into his thoughts he wasn't aware he opened the door so suddenly, you almost fell in.

A whirlwind of chaotic energy, you recovered quickly and jumped about, before turning back to where bucky was frozen at his door.

You were only wearing a T shirt.

Now, it was 7 in the morning, and most of the avengers were well aware that you walked around in a t-shirt in the mornings, well, only Steve and Nat cause they were the only ones that woke up then. Normally, bucky wakes up earlier to do his run, and so by the time you wake up, he's showered and reading in his room.

Shaking his head a bit to uh, clear up his thoughts, he quietly trudged back to his bed, where you were sitting and excitedly bouncing up and down on.

You gave him a good morning half hug, as you were practically buzzing with energy.

Oh. That alone was more that enough to make Bucky's cheeks start to glow a dusty pink.

However, you were already setting up the boxes of hair dye on his night stand.

"ok. Alright buck, are you ready for maybe the most important decision of your lifetime?? Ahem-" Buckys eyes widened as you did a little drumroll, jiggling your thighs and bringing up your shirt a bit, but you were too absorbed in the boxes you didn't even notice.

In your best announcer voice, you looked at him and grinned. "Blue, or red?" Holding up each colour respectively.

Huh? Bucky was so focused on your smile he practically missed what you said, which would've been hella embarrassing.

"uh- I'm not- where is this coming from?" Bucky almost winced at his voice, coming out hoarse and deep.

With an angelic smile on your face a devil would fall for, you patiently explained the hair dye situation. You wanted to dye your hair. Check. You already bought the hair dye. Check. And last but not least, now you were waiting on one of your friends to reply to you about dying their hair too. This wasn't a demanding act, for you only hit up the people you knew also had wanted to dye their hair too.

"i-i uh whyreyaaskingme?" Oh god. Before Bucky had anytime to mentally smAcK himself for mumbling like that, you were already replying.

With a soft smile you said, "well of course I'm asking you buck, I don't think it's very nice to knock on people's doors at 7 in the morning unless they're awake, and Nat and Steve left together to get coffee. Plus, I trust your opinion, I'm sure you have an excellent sense of style." You teased, reminding him of the time he refused to wear a ridiculous suit that Tony had jokingly, not really, designed.

Buck sighed quietly, as you made your way to the bathroom to compare the colours. Ouch. It was never a nice feeling to know you had come to him out of necessity. Little did he know, you had earlier rushed Nat and Steve straight outta here, in attempts to build a closer bond with bucky. Those two just shared a smug little knowing look, before hightailing it right out of the tower.

Lost in his thoughts, bucky didn't realize you had stopped muttering to yourself about the hair colours.

It was quiet. Too quiet. In the bathroom, there was absolutely no sound.

Bucky frowned, making his way over, and knocked on the door.

"can-uh do you mind if I come in?" Bucky knocked.

The door creaked open, and Bucky peeked inside to find your dejected expression and little pouty lips as you sat on the edge of the sink counter, scrolling through your phone.

"hey- wh-whats wrong doll?" Aw jeez. Cut it out, he said firmly in his head. Stop stuttering, just talk to her like a normal person.

"you- wanna tell me why you're looking like a sad puppy down over here?" Bucky's breath hitches as he's in the middle of berating himself for comparing you to a puppy, when you finally look up and meet his eyes, droplets threatening to leak and break past your waterline.

Bucky's heart just about cracks at the sadness radiating off of you. As far as he knows, you of all people should never have to feel this sad. All nervousness forgotten, he quickly bends down and tilts your chin up, tenderly wiping away the tears that have now started their journey down your cheeks.

It's been 5 minutes of you and him, leaning against each other as he wipes away the quiet tears that keep replacing each other.

Finally, in a quiet voice, you explain. At first it was just the dissapointment of no one wanting to really dye their hair with you. But you understood. Really, it was early in the morning, and it was easy to see why people didn't wanna dye their hair right away, or at all even. You completely and totally respected them and their choices. But then, you thought, maybe they're annoyed at me. Maybe, they don't like me anymore. Maybe they wish I'd leave them alone. Maybe they'd be better off without me.

You were well aware you were spiralling, but after the negative thoughts started, it was hard to stop. You had anxiety of these types of things.

Countless times, Nat and Wanda had had to reassure your wanted presence and that the team did love you.

While you were explaining, Buckys arms slowly snaked around to embrace you, and put his chin on top of you head. He was sad, simply because you were.

But listening to your thought process made him realize that you were human too, and it opened his eyes to listen to your anxiousness, no matter how much it still hurt.

Uh oh. The feeling was coming back, tugging at bucky, eating him away, making him want to do anything to make you happier.

Tightening his arms around you one last time before releasing you, he blurted, "uh- I'll dye m-my hair."

Your eyes widened. A small smile slowly creeped onto your tear streaked face. "Yo-you'd do that f-for me?" You hiccuped.

Holy shit. Oh man. Bucky would've tattooed his face if it gave you that little glowing smile and hopeful face you were giving to him now.

"Oh doll. You wouldn't believe what I'd do for you."

PART TWO IS NOW UP

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urimaginespimp · 3 years

Text

The Wrong Bait

Bucky x Reader

You, Bucky, Nat, and Sam are undercover in a Gala. Nat was supposed to be the one to get close to the target, but the initial plan goes down the drain when the target starts hitting on you instead.

--------

Your role in this mission was simple: blend in with the guests, be on the lookout for Nat’s target, make sure nobody gets hurt. The man wasn’t that much harmless, but he was working with sketchy people.

This was probably one of your most laid-back missions yet, and it could’ve been taken cared of by other agents, but you, Nat, Bucky, and Sam wanted jumped on the possibility of a fancy night out after a day of pure boredom.

“I don’t have sight on the target yet.” you spoke in a low voice in the intercom.

“Neither do I.”

“Negative.”

Bucky and Sam replied at the same time.

The satin floor-length gown you had on was enough to be appropriate for the occasion, and at the same time take your boyfriend’s breath away.

“I told you, quit having those heart eyes or I’ll poke them out.” Sam’s hushed voice came into the device again, confusing you.

“Who are you talking to?” you asked as you moved your way through a busy sea of people chatting along, and you took a seat by the bar.

“Your simp of a boyfriend.” Nat snorted an answer in behalf, making your cheeks burn at the flattery.

Turning your seat and scanning through the faces in the room, your eyes finally met your boyfriend’s who was standing by the corner in his well-tailored suit, ignoring the unsubtle adoring stares sent his way by other guests.

“I don’t have hearts on my eyes.” Bucky muttered weakly in defense, sending you a shy smile that you mirrored, which of course was seen by Sam from who knows which corner he’s hiding.

“Don’t make me go over there and smack that grin off you.” Sam threatened, thought you could hear the mirth in his voice.

But because of that little conversation the four of you had, you all missed to note that the target had made his way by the bar himself, and was now sitting beside you.

“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” A deep voice asked you on your side. Turning your head his way, you stared right into the eyes of the man whose picture was flashed during briefing. Curses were heard through your earpiece.

Composing yourself, you knew you couldn’t blow it. But there was a reason why Nat was the one to interact with the target and not you. And that is the well-known fact that you are bad at flirting.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing.” You found yourself answering with a smile, though you were pretty much kicking yourself now in your head.

“I am too sober for this.” you heard Sam mutter once again in your earpiece.

However, instead of being put off by your response, the target seemed to find it amusing. “So, I’m a nice girl now too, eh? I guess we nice girls should be sticking together.” he winked at you before taking a swing from his own drink.

A scoff from undoubtedly Bucky, came through.

“I think I located the secret room. Y/N keep him there so I can get what we need and leave smoothly.” Nat instructed, and you almost let out a groan from frustration.

“You’re blushing.” The man commented, bringing your attention back.

“I'm not blushing. Your face is just so hot that I got sunburned.” you attempted to redeem yourself but failed once again. You winced.

“Wow, you’re on a roll, Y/N” the tone in Sam’s voice implied that he was close to losing it.

“In a hotel ballroom at night?” the man let out a boyish laugh, shaking his head at you. “Come on, don’t let me deteriorate your confidence.”

From his reactions so far, this might actually be easier.

“Uh... People call me Y/fake/N, but you can call me tonight?” you tried to sound confident, but it was evident in your face that you were cringing.

“Keep going, darling, I might just fall in love with you.” he was still grinning at you in amusement.

“Quit flexing, Buck. We get it, you have a jawline.” Sam spoke once again, amused at seeing how hard Bucky was clenching his jaw from across the room.

“I’m about to break this guy’s jaw.” he replied through the intercom in all seriousness.

Clearing your throat, you hope that Bucky will forgive you for what’s about to come out of your mouth next. “It’s working then. I mean I would flirt, but I often seduce men with my awkwardness.” you smiled.

Nat who was being all stealthy in the secret room couldn’t help but comment. “Isn’t that your comeback to Bucky after all those teasing about your awkwardness?”

“Yep. The very same one that got him to kiss her.” Sam added to her comment.

“I didn’t know you guys kept a scrapbook of our relationship.” Bucky replied in annoyance. “It’s alright, darling.” He assured you, his tone softer.

“I owe you one.” you found yourself replying, confusing the man in front of you.

“What?” He asked.

“I- I owe you a dance!” you quickly excused from mini panic, and pull him to the dance floor. It felt really wrong, especially when the reason you even learned how to dance was also because of Bucky, who has since then gone quiet.

The man himself was good on the dancefloor, but you couldn’t help getting distracted from your own guilt, when you finally spot Nat by the exit, giving you a nod as a signal that you were free to go.

“I have to go!” you exclaimed a little too excitedly.

“Why so?” The man before you asked, slightly annoyed.

“I just have two hundred-year-old men at home. They’re kinda traditional and need me home by now.” you reasoned smoothly.

“Two?” he inquired.

“Yeah, people keep joking they might be more than platonic though.” you chuckled and waved at him while already making your way to the exit.

Once outside, you turned right around the corner to where Bucky was already waiting, while Nat and Sam were already inside the car waiting. You gave him an apologetic smile, and was ready to apologize when he pulled you into him and kissed you, almost in a desperate manner.

Pulling away, you saw that there was a glint of smile in his eyes. “You’re not mad?” you asked and he shook his head with a smile.

“Maybe just a little jealous.” He answered.

“A little?!” Sam called out from the car, with the window down. “Get your assess in here so we can go home.”

Before you could reach out the door, your boyfriend pulled you into him once again and gave you a peck before giving you a playful scolding look.

“Don’t think that I didn’t hear what you said about Steve and I, doll.”

--------

Y/N: This is short, but I’ve been having a bad case of writer’s block and just slowly working my way through it. Lol.

HAVE A NICE DAY!

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cow-smells · 3 years

Text

Party Favors (Eli “Hawk” Moskowitz / reader)

Request: Can I have one for a Hawk smut where he’s having a little pool party and the reader is usually always wearing modest/baggy clothing but she wore a pretty sexy bikini to the party and everybody is shocked cuz she is hiding a super nice body under all those clothing. Hawk gets a boner seeing her and has to go inside the house to fix his problem and the reader goes inside the house and catches him and offers him some help and he’s shocked because she seems innocent. Basically a version of that fast time at ridgemont high bikini scene lol (for: @le-fashionmwah )

A/N: there’s been an influx of requests for Hawk smut so I really hope this hits the spot lol. felt really dirty writing this even tho its probs not that bad?? idk. lemme know. also, for some reason i only looked up that scene/movie halfway in to writing this, so i hope this is somewhat what you visioned

Words: 1582

Warnings: nsfw :)

Read on AO3

It had been a couple of months since your family moved to California, and you were loving it.

You befriended the Cobra Kais as soon as you started school and they had invited you to a pool party today at Sam's house.

You were a little bit reluctant to go at first, preferring to keep your weekends to yourself, reading a good book all curled up in one of the over sized hoodies you usually wore; that was, until Hawk came along.

“Come on,” he whined to you a couple of days earlier. “Miguel's going to be all up in Sam's ass and I'll be bored as hell. You gotta come keep me company.”

You hated to admit it, but you were putty in his hands. You were nursing an ever growing crush on Hawk from the moment you first layed eyes on him; so naturally, you were easily convinced. You were desperate to make a move on him, but you were still new and friendless other then the Cobra Kais; you feared making a wrong move and losing them all.

That is how you came to find yourself in Sam's back yard, trying to recognize familiar faces. You arrived with Miguel who as per Hawks prediction quickly abandoned you to chase after Sam, leaving you to fend for yourself. You scanned the yard filled with your peers; you couldn't recognize anyone – at least, not by name. Taking your phone out of your hoodie, you tried calling Hawk to no avail. He didn't pick up.

Assuming he wasn't answering because he was driving over (you didn't want to think he might have decided to pass on the party after convincing you to come), you decided to do the only thing there was left to do at a pool party – go for a swim.

You took a deep breath and took hold of your over sized hoodie, pulling it up and off of you, leaving you in nothing but the new bikini you got just for this (and maybe, just maybe, for Hawk too).

You didn't notice the many pairs of eyes that were suddenly focused on you.

Embracing the carefree air of the party, you jumped in to the deep end of the pool, letting your body sink for a moment before propelling yourself up to breathe. The cold water woke up your senses, letting you forget about your previous shyness if only a little. You swam to the edge of the pool and pushed yourself up to sit on the ledge.

“You're the new girl,” a voice suddenly asked. Looking aside, it was a boy you recognized from English class. He allowed himself to take a seat by you. “sit behind me in English, right?”

“Yeah,” you smile, happy to have been noticed. You two go on with your small talk for a little while until an extremely recognizable figure walked out the house.

“Hawk!” you called, more eager than you probably should have. You excused yourself from the boy who acted as a pleasant distraction, rising to your feet and making your way over to him, your bikini dripping heavily.

It took Hawk a heavy moment until he responded, his jaw slightly slacked as you came to stand in front of him.

“Hi,” he finally said, feeling his mouth dry. Hawk had to train his eyes intensely on yours, lest they venture downwards.

“Took you long enough,” you tease, nudging his arm playfully. “oh, sorry,” you apologize at seeing the spot you touched become dark with moisture. “I'm wet.”

Yes, you are, Hawk thought to himself.

A slight gust of wind hits you, and you cross your arms under your chest, trying to preserve your heat.

Hawk looks aside bashfully, heart pounding at your now even-further pronounced breasts. “I, um,” he mutters, “forgot my bike running. I'll be right back.”

Without a second glance to you, Hawk leaves in a rush.

You see him through a window and to your surprise, he doesn't leave the house. He detours to a bathroom.

You felt confused and slightly offended – what was the rush to leave you like that, after you greeted him so publicly too? Was he... embarrassed to be seen with you?

The negative thoughts began plaguing your mind; there was only one way to settle this, you decided. With that, you entered the house to confront him.

You're two steps in to the living room when Moon gets an eyeful of you. “Damn, Y/n!” she surveys your scantily clad body with a grin. “You were hiding that under all those layers? Good for you, girl,” she winks. Your quest to Hawk continues with reddened cheeks and a little grin.

You reach the bathroom you saw Hawk enter and knock, calling his name.

“What?” Hawk replies, his voice strained and perhaps agitated.

“I'm coming in,” you declare boldly, turning the door handle and prying it open.

“No, don't -” Hawk begins, but it's too late. You're already in.

Hawk's face is red, his shirt is tousled – which brings your eyes down to his unbuttoned jeans, and a prominent bulge coming from them.

Your eyes widen as you realize what you just walked in to. “Oh.”

Hawk looks just about ready to bury himself alive. “Would you get out already?”

You space out for a moment as your brain runs through the course of events. He walked in, saw you, left with a boner.

Huh.

“I can leave,” you finally reply. “or,” his eyes lighten in confusion. “I can help you out.”

“Help – help me out?” Hawk stutters and he scolds himself for acting so timidly, like Eli rather than Hawk. He needed to regain control of the situation.

You shut the bathroom door, making sure to lock it. Walking up close to him, Hawk looks down at you, trying so hard to regain his composure. You sink down to your knees.

He nearly protests, cowers away, asks what you're doing. But then he doesn't. He's Hawk, and Hawk doesn't back away when the girl he's infatuated with is eye-level with his dick. He stays put. He takes control.

Your hand goes to caress his hardness over his clothes. Hawk one-ups you and pushes his jeans and boxers down, revealing himself to you completely. His hand weaves through your hair, letting him see your expression better.

He's worried, for a moment, that he might have taken things too far, read you incorrectly. A thought that's quick to leave his mind once your tongue is on his tip.

He thinks his heart might actually beat out of his chest. He would have never, not in his wildest dreams, be able to imagine this scenario happening in real life. Although he wanted you for a while now, he didn't think you returned his feelings. Besides that, you were usually modest, you clothing hiding your body under it and you never flirting with anyone. He'd never peg you for the type to go down on him in a bathroom during a party with half your school year just out the door.

Hawk groans as you slide your tongue from his tip to his balls, cupping them in your hand. It's nearly overwhelming to him when you spit in your hand and begin to pump his shaft.

Hawks grip on your hair tightens; you take him in your mouth. Hawk can't help the throaty moan that leaves him as you take him as deeply as you can, hollowing your cheeks as you pull away.

His free hand comes behind your head and his fingers find the strings holding up your bikini, which he allows himself to pull on until they sever and the top of your bikini comes loose.

Finally taking control, Hawk uses his grip on your hair to guide you on and off his dick, making you take him deeply enough you have to relax your throat to accommodate him.

“You're such a good girl for me,” Hawk groans as he gazes down at you with his dick in your warm mouth. “you take me so well.”

Your heart swells at the compliment, at the clear pleasure you're bringing him.

Hawks moans rise in volume and his hips rut gently forward while he holds your head in place. Without warning a gust of warm liquid pools in your mouth. Hawk pulls out and before you can think to move he cums, white strands painting your lips and cheeks before dripping down to your bare breasts.

You swallow what made it to your mouth and look at Hawk towering above you. He looked absolutely spent... and content.

Hawk helped you to your feet, this time allowing himself to stare at you to his hearts content. He helped you clean off your face before taking it in his hands and kissing you deeply. You couldn't believe you had managed to do all that before sharing your first kiss.

Breaking apart, Hawk lets his hands skim down your body, his thumbs flicking your nipples playfully before taking hold of your bikini strings and tying them back up behind your neck, leaving your breasts still covered with his cum underneath the fabric.

He finished tying the knot, kissing you once more. “You're my girl now.”

There's a question there, beneath the deceleration, so you nod. Feeling bolder than before, Hawk holds your hand as he leads you back to the pool.

#cobra kai imagine #cobra kai #cobra kai hawk #eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz x reader

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Of Kings and Beasts - Seven

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Angst, Injuries, Violence, Language (Maybe)

Word Count: 3.7K

A/n: hello friends! Enjoy this plz. also idk what’s wrong but I’m having a hard time remembering things and my brain is just super mush. I think I’m like, malnourished and exhausted but I really don’t know. Goodnight though, I love you all!

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

“How many times must I explain this? I hardly remember anything. I could barely see his face through the snow. I know not his name nor his rank, all I know is that he was wearing the armour of a Knight.” You’re getting frustrated now as you explain for what feels like the thousandth time what happened before you ventured out into the snow.

James and Steve exchange glances.

“I did not send for her. And I know you would not trust her safety in the hands of anyone who has not fought alongside you in battle. I believe-” James stops speaking abruptly, shaking his head. He’s not sure who is trying to sabotage his marriage, and he doesn’t want them to know that he knows.

“What?” You ask softly, stepping towards him. He takes a step back and you frown. You’d thought that after the night you had spent with the man that he would be more open to having you, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

“Nat!” The redhead is in Steve’s office as soon as he says her name.

“I want you or Sam with (Y/n) at all times. You may only leave her side if you are directly dismissed by one of the three of us. Do you understand?” She nods, guilt heavy in her gut at the fact that you could’ve died because of her carelessness.

“Have Clint bring the stable boy here. I want him to give me details. I need to know who the traitor is and why they want my wife dead,” Steve says after a moment, his eyes hard at the thought of someone wanting to bring you harm.

“I’ll go,” James pipes in, avoiding your eyes as he walks to the door, closing it tightly behind himself.

Your shoulders slump and you shake your head sadly. “I had thought that after our night... we may be starting to rebuild our relationship. However, it seems as though he does not wish for that to happen.” Steve sighs, walking around his desk to wrap his arms around your frame.

“He is sad and afraid. He has not been himself for a long while, but he will come back.” Your bottom lip quivers and you curse yourself for being so emotional.

“I do not wish to be the cause of his unhappiness. At times I wonder if it would be better if I stayed away. If I allowed the two of you to continue as if I were not here at all.” Steve turns you around and lifts your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

“You are very important to both of us. If he truly wanted you out of the picture he would not have gone out to find you. You matter far too much to the both of us. He will come around again, he just needs some time.”

A knock on the door pulls your attention from him and you sniffle, wiping a stray tear off of your cheek.

“Come in.”

The door gets pushed open and a red-faced young man scurries in, his eyes focused on the ground as he bows.

“Y-you called for me, Your Majesties?” Your heart warms at the obvious nervousness.

“What is your name?” You ask, cutting Steve off. He raises his eyebrows at you and you simply smile, taking a step away from him and towards the boy.

“P-Peter, Your Majesty. A-and I did not mean for any harm to come to you. I was led to believe that the man was indeed a knight of the king and that the business transpiring was none that should involve me. I ask that you are lenient in your punishment, for I truly enjoy my position and I am so grateful that you have given me the opportunity to work here. I-” You raise your hand, silencing his rambling and looking every bit like the queen you are.

Steve watches from behind you, never having seen you truly take control of the title you have.

“You will not be punished for following the orders of someone who seemed to be an honest man. No harm came from it. We simply would like to know if you have any recollection of his name or his rank. Or perhaps a description of his appearance.” The boy stares at you in shock before looking to the King. Steve simply nods and the boy inhales deeply.

“I did not gather his name nor his rank, Your Majesty. But he seemed tall. Not as tall as the King, Mind you, but still taller than most knights. And his build was slimmer, which I found surprising. I should’ve questioned it and I will spend my days regretting that I did not because our Kingdom could have lost its queen due to my carelessness and-”

“Peter, please stay focused,” Steve says. The boy swallows hard and nods, clearing his throat before speaking again.

“He had... dark hair and dark eyes... bared no resemblance to any knight I’ve ever seen before. He lacked the composure of a knight as well. It almost seemed as if he were trying to mimic the actions of one.” You turn to Steve, brows raised at this new information.

“Thank you, Peter. That will be all.” The boy bows again then hurries out of the room.

“So someone was able to pose as a knight? But who? And why? I hardly have a purpose in the kingdom. Why did I become a target?” Steve shakes his head, wishing he had the answers of which you seek.

“I know not. But I will be bringing this up when James and I meet with the council next. Any threat against our wife is a direct threat against our kingdom, and justice needs to be served.” The mention of your other husband has your heart aching.

“Do... do you think he would talk to me were I to find him?” You ask. Steve purses his lips. James seemed so comfortable with you the other night. He hates the thought, but maybe it’s his presence that is making James so distant.

“There is no harm in trying. Have Natalia accompany you.” You nod, gathering your skirts and hurrying out of the room, the redhead hot on your heels.

“I offer you my sincerest apologies, your majesty. I should have been there.” You shake your head at her, smiling softly.

“Do not apologize, Natalia. No one was harmed.” you pause just as you’re about to walk past the glass doors leading to the gardens, a glint of silver catching your eye.

“You may wait here. I fear having any more of an audience will only have a negative effect,” you whisper, pushing the door open and venturing into the snow.

Natalia stands just outside the door, watching with her hand on the hilt of her sword as you walk down the path towards the brooding king.

“James?” You call, waiting until he looks at you.

“You should not be here,” he murmurs, his eyes closing tightly and his hands clenching into fists. He huffs out heavy breaths through his nose, the air forming a misty cloud that dissipates slowly.

“James, please. I cannot stand the distance you put between us. I am begging you to let me in.” He grinds his teeth together, his face contorting in what looks like pain before suddenly going stoic.

He’s quiet for a long moment, long enough for you to slowly approach him, fingers prickling in the cold winter air.

“James?” You ask softly, hoping he’s ready to open up to you again.

His eyes snap open and in a flash of silver, he’s got his metal hand wrapped around your throat, fingers flexing and nearly crushing your windpipe.

Your eyes widen and you instinctively grab at the metal appendage.

His face is devoid of emotion as he lifts you nearly clean off the ground, the tips of your toes hardly brushing the ground. Your lungs burn and tears of pain and discomfort well up in your eyes.

There’s a whooshing sound and then he grunts, toppling to the left and dropping you to the ground.

You collapse in a heap, hands grabbing at your throat protectively as you draw in huge lungfuls of air between painful coughs.

The sound of metal clanging against metal has your eyes shooting upwards just in time to see two swords connect above you, one belonging to the king and the other belonging to Natalia.

“Your Majesty, get back!” She shouts, her eyes on you for a brief moment.

You scramble through the snow, trying to get to the palace and call for help.

James overpowers the redhead with practiced ease, and then his murderous gaze is focused on you again.

Fear freezes you in place and you stare up at him with wide eyes while Natalia is screaming for him to stop, for someone to come to your aid.

His sword comes down right as a powerful hand jerks you to the side.

The blow that was meant to kill you draws a red line across your cheek, blood spilling out and trailing down your chin.

The hot liquid splatters against the frozen snow, melting a hole and staining the white.

For a moment you’re reminded of your place in the world. A stain against purity. A mistake.

You’re wrenched back to reality by hands yanking you backwards, away from where the two Kings fight each other, Steve with desperation and James with determination.

“Come, Majesty.” Nat helps you inside but you don’t move past the doors, heart hammering in your chest as guards rush out to help the blond king.

“Your Majesty, you’re injured. We must-” you shake your head at her, eyes far too focused on the fight.

James manages to knock Steve’s sword away but is quickly distracted by the other men, giving the blond an opportunity to deliver a nasty blow to the back of his head.

The brunet collapses in the snow, groaning and grabbing his head.

You watch with nothing but terror and tears in your eyes as he slowly pushes himself to his knees, familiar blue eyes looking around in confusion.

They land on you, blood on your cheek and fear in your eyes and he nearly throws up as he realizes what he’s done.

“James?” He shakes his head at Steve, stumbling to his feet and hurrying into the Palace.

“James!” He runs straight past you and down the hallway, disappearing after a few moments.

Steve stands in the snow, blue eyes narrowed and pink lips parted. He pants, trying to gather his thoughts while the cold air bites his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

Steve is at your side in a flash, his hand cupping your cheek and angling your head to allow himself to inspect your wound.

“Just a scratch,” he murmurs, brows drawn together as he glances to where his husband was.

Your eyes, however, are drawn to a movement in the garden.

A familiar pair of muddy brown eyes stand out against the snow and you inhale sharply.

“Steve, it’s him.” He follows your gaze to the garden,

“Guards!” He shouts, grabbing his sword and hurrying out into the snow.

“Please, your majesty. I need to tend to your wound.” You finally allow Natalia to drag you away, but not before hearing Steve mention something about the dungeon to one of the guards with him.

~*~

You toss and turn all throughout the night, missing the warmth of your husband and beyond afraid at the events of the day.

Not only were you attacked, but you also potentially caught the man who wants you dead.

The worst part? Steve has given you zero information. No matter how much you asked, he refused to say a single thing about James or the stranger in the garden.

So that is how you have ended up here, pacing through the dark palace halls in search of your blond husband.

As you’re leaving his empty office you hear a whisper of your name, followed by a soft laugh.

You frown and follow the sound, the voice beckoning you closer and yet getting further away every time you approach.

The voice leads you through the halls for what feels like hours until you find yourself in front of a wooden door that nearly blends in with the walls around it.

Steadying yourself with a deep breath, you push the door open. It creaks loudly and you instinctively look around to make sure that no one heard.

Once deeming the coast to be clear, you slowly walk through the doorway and nearly fall.

It’s a spiral staircase going downwards.

Your heart beats loudly in your ears as you take the steps one at a time, getting reminded of all the times you snuck around the Palace back home.

Through the darkness, there’s a yellow glow that you identify as candlelight.

You dare not step into the light, so instead, you stay tucked safely around the corner, ears straining to hear... anything.

You make out two voices, one of them far more familiar than the other.

“I am going to ask you one last time: who is it that is plotting against me?” Steve demands.

The other man sounds weak, his breath coming in ragged pants.

You risk a glance around the corner, eyes finding the two in the dimly lit room. Th man on the ground is bloody and bruised and you can hardly recognize him until he speaks.

“You’d best be careful who you allow into your circle, your Majesty. I serve my Kingdom, but not all who are close to you are true to their word. Is it not suspicious that so many terrible events have occurred so soon after the Queen was brought here?” Steve's hand comes down hard against the man’s face and you hold back a gasp.

“If you do not cooperate and answer truthfully, I will rip your teeth out one by one and force them down your throat.”

The man spits blood onto the ground then chuckles weakly.

His bloodied face is too much for you, and you turn on your heel and run up the stairs as silently as you can, hands trembling with fear and disgust as you realize that both kings are brutal in their own sick ways.

“You know I speak the truth. The change in your husband has only occurred since your wife has been here. Has Orlen always been a friend to us? Or have they been trying to get into our Kingdom to take what they wish?”

Steve is silent for just a moment too long, long enough for the man to know he struck a nerve.

“If you wish to kill me, do so. But remember my warning. And do not be surprised when she turns on you, too.”

~*~

He doesn’t return to his chambers for nearly an hour after that, and as much as you try, you cannot fall asleep after what you witnessed.

Sure, you expected there to be consequences, but you never imagined that Steve would torture the man with his own hands.

When he finally returns to you, he climbs into bed without noticing your stiff figure.

His arm comes around your waist as it usually would, and you try your hardest not to flinch away from him.

A single glance down shows you his split knuckles and you have to bite your lip to stop from making a noise of fear.

He falls asleep quickly behind you, and you’re horrified at how comfortable he is with being so brutal to another human being.

~*~

The King paces in his office, the question of the prisoner echoing in his mind.

He had not even considered the possibility of you being responsible for the change in his husband’s demeanour, but it only started since you came to the palace.

A weight settles in the pit of his stomach and he takes a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down.

He needs to speak to you immediately.

Just as he pulls the door to his study open, you raise your hand to knock.

“Oh!” You gasp, grabbing your chest and taking a sharp breath.

“You startled me. I was just coming to find you. H-have you any news of James?” Your eyes stray down to his split knuckles and Steve takes notice of the tension in your shoulders.

“He’s locked himself in the east wing. He refuses to speak to anyone but doctor banner,” he says, voice stiff and mechanical.

You nod slowly, stepping into the room when he steps aside and motions you to come in.

It’s silent for a long moment, the pressure nearly making your eardrums burst.

You want him to say something, anything. Explain what happened last night or what’s going on today. You’re far too terrified to ask him, however. After witnessing what you did... you do not want to anger him.

That seems to be a futile wish, however.

“Is he alright?” You try, hoping that this is a safe topic.

Steve doesn’t reply. No, instead he paces slowly around the room.

“Do you take me for a fool?” He asks, eyes finding you for the first time.

“What are you talking about?” You’re genuinely curious, trying to think of what you could’ve done to make him ask you this.

“I will ask you again, and this time you will answer. Do you take me for a fool?” He’s walking to you now, steps purposeful and intimidating, a walk that he has practiced and perfected.

You back up a step, fear coursing through your veins. “N-no, of course not. What is this about, Steve?”

“You will address me properly.” You’ve never seen this side of him before. Except for last night.

“I-I don’t think I am understanding... Your Majesty.” You’re not sure if you are more disappointed or sad, but you drop your eyes to the floor.

“Rumours have been spoken, words whispered of a traitor among us. Someone who wishes for the kingdom to fall. Someone close to myself.”

You furrow your brows, taken aback by the accusation.

“And you think me capable of that?” You demand.

He shrugs but his eyes are anything but calm. There’s a fiery storm in his blue eyes, accusation and rage simmering just beneath the surface.

“I hardly know you. It would be foolish of me to think you are anything more than a spy sent by Orlen.” Your heart hurts and you need to take a few deep breaths before you speak.

“I have been nothing but loyal to you, your husband, and your kingdom. Who might I even have to conspire with? I have not been allowed near the people, and I fear my own ladies because their loyalties lie with you.”

Your words ring with truths that even you didn’t consider until now. Steve opens his mouth to speak but you do not allow him a turn.

“I have not breathed a word of the brutalities I have experienced at the hand of your beloved. I have not even dreamed of leaving the castle walls for fear of what consequences would await such thoughts. From the moment I arrived, I have been treated like dirt and yet you stand here with the audacity to question my loyalties!”

He’s taken aback for a moment. He wants to trust you, he really does, but he just can't. Not after what the man said last night. It makes too much sense that you would do this.

“You speak of rumours... as if you do not have your own to worry about. Your brutality is spoken of throughout the continent. Clearly, the rumours hold true, for your brutality extends far beyond the lines of the battlefield. The kings show no mercy, not even to their wife in the privacy of their bed chambers.”

He grabs your forearms tightly, face full of fury.

“You will watch your tongue, woman!” You huff out a breath and shake your head, face contorting in pain as his grip tightens.

“You are so quick to accuse me when you were nowhere to be found in a time that I needed you.” His brows raise nearly to his hairline.

“Are you implying that I had a hand in that?” He demands, a vein in his forehead throbbing as he only gets more furious.

“I imply nothing, your majesty. I am simply taking note of the fact that you were conveniently away during a time when I was in peril.”

His hand comes up before he can register what’s happening, and then you’re tumbling to the floor, the crisp sound of a slap ringing in his ears.

Your hands tremble and your cheek burns. You stay rooted in place, eyes squeezed shut in fear as he towers over you.

He stands before you, chest heaving and eyes wide with horror at himself.

“Your actions only further prove my point,” you whisper, blinking your eyes open to suppress your tears.

“And do yours not prove mine?” He counters, glaring at you as you rub your aching wrists. Seeing you cower beneath him, so small and so fragile, his anger starts to melt away.

“I would like to remind you, Your Majesty, that I do not benefit from being here. I have only traded one prison for another, and I am not sure how much longer I will endure such treatment.”

He opens his mouth to speak, one hand extending to help you to your feet. His eyes find a line of red on your cheek and he glances down at his hand, the mark on your cheek matching his wedding band.

Now you have matching scratches on either side of your face.

“Do not touch me,” you hiss, glaring up at him with wet eyes.

He’s crouching down when there’s a knock on the door. Sam pushes it open without waiting for an invitation but the look on his face is enough for Steve not to snap at him.

“There’s been an attempt on Doctor Banner’s life.”

#king au #king!bucky #king!steve rogers x reader #king!bucky x Princess!reader X king!steve #king!Steve X reader #king!steve x reader #dark!au #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #darkfic #Steve X reader dark fic #bucky x reader dark au #steve x reader dark fic #Bucky Barnes x reader dark au #bucky x reader dark fic #Steve rogers x reader dark fic

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gates-keeper · 3 years

Text

Part 1: “Words of Affirmation” Destiel Quotes & Parallels

I’m sure someone’s done this before me and done it better, but I’m compiling a huge Destiel evidence docket for no reason. Anyone got any quotes to add?

Comments From Outside Characters

To Dean

Uriel: “He has this weakness. He likes you.” (4x10)

Balthazar: “You have me confused with the other angel. You know, the one in the dirty trench coat who’s in love with you.” (6x17)

Hester: “The first time Castiel laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost.” (7x21)

Meg: “He was your boyfriend first.” (7x23)

Charlie: “What about Castiel? He seems helpful. And dreamy.” (8x20)

Marie: “Although we do explore the nature of Destiel in Act 2.” (10x5)

Sam: “Shouldn’t it be Deastiel?” He then goes on to tease Dean with “Sastiel” which Dean takes negatively. (10x5)

Dean: “This Cas is looking at me weird.” Sam: “So like the real Cas then.” (15x14)

To Castiel

Hannah: “We gave you our trust. Don’t lose it over one man.” (9x22)

Metatron: “His true weakness is revealed. He’s in love…with humanity.” (9x22)

Metatron: “Oh, that’s right. To save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but, ultimately, it was about saving one human, right?” (9x23)

Ishim: “I’m going to cure you of your human weakness [i.e. Dean]” (12x10)

The Empty: “I have tiptoed through all your little tulips. Your memories, your little feelings, yes. I know what you hate. I know who you love…There is nothing for you back there.” (13x4)

Demon: “I thought you were joined at the… (looks down) everything.” (14x01)

There are also several instances where other characters try to poke at insecurities regarding their relationship.

Naomi: “You're hoping Castiel will return to you. I admire your loyalty. I only wish he felt the same way.” (8x19)

Casifer: “There comes a time when every relationship has run its course.” (11x18)

Michael!Dean: “You only tolerate the angel because you think you owe him, because he ‘gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition.’ Or whatever.” (14x10)

Comments From Dean

To Cas

“There are two things I know for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay. And two, you are not going to die a virgin.” (5x03)

“So what? I’m Thelma and you’re Louise and we’re just going to hold hands and sail off this cliff together?” (5x03)

“You know what? Blow me, Cas.” (5x18)

“Cas, not for nothing, but the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.” (5x18)

“Look, I don’t need to feel like hell for failing you, okay? For failing you like I’ve failed every other godforsaken thing that I care about! I don’t need it!” (8x07)

“We need you. I need you.”

For more on this quote see the “We vs. I” section.

To Other Characters

Bobby: “I think maybe it’s time you made a call.” Dean: “Why does it always gotta be me that makes the call, huh? It’s not like Cas lives in my ass. The dude’s busy.” (Cas appears) Dean: “Get out of my ass.” Cas: “I was never in your… (head tilt)” (6x19)

“On my car…. He showed up naked… covered in bees.” (7x23)

While Cas suffered from some mental issues at the time, it seems somewhat significant that he sought Dean out under the circumstances, not Sam, etc.

“There’s things… people… feelings that I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time.” (10x16)

“My shy but devastatingly handsome friend here” (12x12)

“He came into my room and he played me.” (12x19)

“Let’s see. Crowley’s dead, Kelly’s dead, Cas is—Mom’s gone.” (13x01)

Dean’s inability to list Cas’s death singles him out as the most devastating of the losses.

“We’ve lost everything. And now you’re gonna bring him back.” (13x01)

While some people have heard this as “bring ‘em back”, the Netflix captions and transcripts I have been able to find say “him.”

“And Cas bought it. And you know what it got him? It got him dead! Now you may be able to forget about that, but I can't!” (13x03)

“I have a family.” (In response to John Winchester lamenting Dean doesn’t have a wife and kids) (14x13)

Comments From Cas

To Dean

“I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You. They feel I've begun to express emotions. The doorways to doubt.” (4x16)

“I’m hunted. I rebelled. And I did it—all of it—for you.” (5x02)

“I gave everything for you. And this is what you give to me.” (5x18)

“I do everything that you ask. I always come when you call.” (6x21)

“So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord.” (6x22)

Before taking on the role of God, Cas seemed very concerned with Dean’s forgiveness/acceptance/love. It is interesting that, as God, that was the first thing he asked for, turning from Sam (who had just stabbed him) to Dean to ask for love.

“Sam, and everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. Everyone except me.” (10x22)

“I love you. I love all of you.” (Arguably to the group, but the first “I love you” can be seen as Dean-specific, especially since it cuts to Dean after being said.) (12x12)

“You mean too much to me. To everything.” (12x9) (To Mary, Sam, and Dean. However, the camera immediately cuts to Dean specifically, even though he is in the back of the group).

“I’m your Huckleberry.” (13x06)

Cas love confession (15x18)

To Other Characters

“Dean and I do share a more profound bond.” (6x03)

“I won’t hurt Dean.” (8x17)

This is said as Castiel is breaking away from Naomi’s mind control—mind control she fostered specifically by having Cas kill a thousand versions of Dean. This implies she knows that Cas’s strongest loyalty is to Dean, not Sam, or humans in general.

“The point is that they [Dean & Sam] were here at all and you got to know them, you -- When they're gone, it will hurt, but that hurt will remind you of how much you loved them.” (14x14)

“You know, Dean, he... he feels things more acutely than any human I've ever known.” (15x13)

Other Comments

Reaper: “How do I start looking for this... Castiel?” Bartholomew: “I got one word for you. Winchester.”

Rowena: “An Angel of the Lord, shattered at the altar of Winchester.”

Use of We vs. I

In the crypt scene in Season 8, Dean tells Cas, “We need you.” This is not enough to stop Cas’s actions. When the language switches to “I need you,” Cas drops the angel blade.

We can clearly see that Dean tries to put up barriers about how he really feels about Cas in his use of “We.” For example, after showing the audience many scenes of Dean, not Sam, frantically trying to call Cas, we get the following lines:

“So not only were you ditching us, but you were also ignoring us?”

“With everything that's going on, you can't just go dark like that. We didn't know what happened to you. We were worried. That's not okay.”

It’s clear that these “we’s” are really “I’s”

In the alternate future presented in 15x9, Sam asks Dean, “What’s happened to you Dean… ever since…?” to which Dean responds, “Ever since what? We lost pretty much everyone we’ve ever cared about? Ever since the Mark made Cas go crazy and I had to bury him in a Malak box… ever since then?” While he acknowledges Sam’s losses as well, his switch to “I” in reference to Cas implies that Cas’s loss belongs especially to him.

(Mostly) Verbal Parallels to Other Couples

In 1x01 (start at 2:27), Dean pulls Sam away from a dead Jess in a direct parallel to how Sam pulls Dean away from Cas in 12x23

Following Jessica’s death, Sam keeps seeing glimpses of her as he and Dean travel around in the Impala. Dean does the same in Season 8 following his return from Purgatory without Cas.

David from “Bloodlines” (9x20) tells his love interest, “I was there. Where were you?” which is the same thing Dean says to Cas in “The Man Who Would Be King” (6x20)

When asking Dean whether he’s in love with Cassie, Dean gives a similar response to what he will say in 10x5 when asked about Destiel.

Destiel is paralleled with their counterparts from the Supernatural play who are “a couple in real life” (10x5)

Cain compares himself to Dean in Season 10. He describes the significant kills of his life (The Knights of Hell, his wife Collette, and his brother Abel) and tells Dean that he will follow his same pattern by killing the King of Hell Crowley, Castiel, then Sam. It is also mentioned that all Collette asked of Cain was “to stop,” which is the same language Cas uses with Dean in 10x22.

Dean explains how his parents fell in love to prove his identity to Mary in 12x1, “He was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song, so when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed.” Later in this same season (12x19), Dean gives Cas a homemade mixtape of his favorite Zeppelin songs.

Ishim fell in love with a human named Lily Sunder who ultimately left him for someone else. When trying to recruit Castiel, he compares Dean to her.

Dean questions how much of their life has been controlled by God. Cas states, “You asked, ‘What about all of this is real?’ We are.” (15x02) Later, they find out that God has been using Eileen to spy on the Winchesters. She says, “After what happened, I don’t know what’s real anymore.” Sam kisses her, stating “I know that was real.” (15x09)

PART 2 “Physical Touch” Now Finished

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel is canon

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