but i spent a long time erasing around the edges SO I KIND OF LIKE IT

The Old College Try: Part 2 (Lin/Reader college roommate!AU)

Summary: You spent the summer before your freshman year of college thinking your roommate was going to be a girl named Lin. When you get to campus, that’s not what you find.

Part Two: In which there are crayon contracts and costume parties, but definitely no jealousy.

Note: Sorry this took me so long to get out! Now that the story is completely outline, it should flow a lot faster. I’m pretty sure this is Part 2 out of 4.

You can find Part One here!

You can find Part Three here!

A few people asked to be tagged, so this is that!: @icanneverbesatisfied @clamilton @moonchildcharm @danspepes @calumbeans @blueco16 @brigzter-ly @21phantasticromances @picklessfights @thedoctorsnerdgirl @smileystumph @beestigo @lindsay-grey

Rating: T

Words: 4021

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okay so i had the most horrible idea for a kagehina scene so now you all have to suffer with me - 2.4k, rated t, :( but then :)

Hinata found him behind their gym. His uniform jacket was stuck to the prickly cinderblocks half-way up his back like he’d leaned and slid down into the grass instead of sitting on the ground in the first place, like he couldn’t bother with normal human actions and just melted down the side of the wall out of spite or something. His messenger bag lay upturned and half-way gutted over the green ground in front of him, with his shoe dangerously close to the crime scene. It looked like he’d kicked it himself in anger.

Hinata bit his lip, wringing his hands as he stepped around the corner and approached Kageyama. 

He’d planned it all out, researched the best ways to go about it and the best poems–even read some in Japanese and English to see which language would sound cooler in the moment–and the best day in the week to do it. He’d talked to Yachi about it, and then Noya, who were both more in touch with this kind of stuff (especially compared to him). He’d thought about how tired they would be just after lunch versus at the end of the day (he couldn’t do it in the morning, because what if it went terribly wrong and Hinata would have to go to school with him all day instead of being able to escape at any point–best to avoid unnecessary embarrassment if he was rejected). He hadn’t anticipated this, though.

Just before last period, he’d pulled the piece of paper out of his trouser pocket–the one that he’d nearly scribbled and erased and scribbled down to pulpy nothing, the one he’d read and reread so much that the blue lines across it were fading at the edges from his restless thumbs (the one that he’d nearly thrown in the wash the other night)–and held it in his hands as he walked up to Kageyama in front of the sciences building. As usual, the volleyball team tended to gravitate toward each other during any sort of between-class downtime, so Tanaka, Ennoshita, Yamaguchi, Yachi and a couple of the first-years were all sprawled or leaning or loitering on the lawn with Kageyama, who sipped at his box of milk through a straw and slouched in the shade of a scraggly tree, listening to another one of Tanaka’s stories. 

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Homecoming.

(GIF is not mine, but I adore it) 

Requested: No! But the new trailer gave me so many ideas!

Warnings: Fluff, Angst. 

MasterlistRequest 


Everything has happened so quickly. You walked away from Peter for one second to go grab a drink and just like that your feet were dangling in the air, a tight metal arm wrapped around your waist.

 When you let out a blood curling scream the gymnasium became silent–and everyone looked your way. You struggled, making your heels fall off and hit the tile floor with a ‘clank’–and Peter looked at you helplessly, unsure how to exit without ‘Vulture’ noticing.

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The Song Is You (Chapter One)

Summary: A summer road trip with your best friend lends its way to some revelations. 

Author’s Note: This has been a long time coming, you guys!! You’ve probably been hearing Esme and I talk about our fic collab for a while now. We’re very excited to finally begin releasing this special piece to the public! All we can say now is that you will finally understand all the Monster Mash and “rick rolling” jokes you’ve heard in the last weeks. 

*** If you wanted to listen to the road trip playlist that is mentioned in this chapter, please click here!! 

Words: 4,481 

Warnings: an extremely cheesy mixtape, lame jokes, Lin showing off (so, nothing?) 

Without any further ado, welcome to the world Esme and I have so lovingly crafted for you! 


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When Another Man Looks

Pairing: Dean x reader, Ketch, Sam

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, sex in a bathroom, jealousy, fake flirting with Ketch on reader’s part, slight angst 

Summary: You are working on a case with Ketch to try and take down a vampire, but one change in the outfit you would normally rock on a hunt has thing deteriorating quickly between you and your boyfriend Dean. 

Word Count: 5153

A/N: This was written for an anon who requested  Hi! If you are taking requests could I request a dean x reader? Perhaps where they are dating and then when they are working with the BMoL either Mick or Ketch keeps flirting with her and dean gets really defensive and a bit possessive of her, maybe ending in smut? Thanks! So this is what I came up with. Also a special shout out to @roxy-davenport who helped to beta the beginning part of this fic and stopped me from scrapping it, so thank you so much! 

Pushing down the lump that was forming in your throat, you tried to ignore the way Ketch’s eyes kept shifting to your body, he had suggested you wear something more revealing in an attempt at getting the vampire’s attention, essentially, wanting to use you as bait. It was something so stereotypical male, it made you want to puke, the whole idea that as a girl the only thing you were good for was standing around looking pretty and vulnerable. The blood coursing through your veins had started boiling at the casual suggestion, but working with these new Men of Letters meant that you had to make sacrifices. Since the Winchester’s were on board with these new guys, despite some reluctance, you were too.

“Fine, I’ll go get changed,” you growled, trying your best not to stomp too loudly as you made your way to the bedroom.

You could see why the boys were torn about working with these guys, clearly, they were working on a different level than the average hunter you had come across, but the boundaries were blurrier too. When they had told you about how Mick had killed the girl who had been bitten by a werewolf before she even managed to attack anyone, you had felt disgusted. Then again, you saw the tools that they had, and there was no denying that their ability to spot these groups of vampires and quickly take them out was going to help a lot more people in the long run.

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fic: forget your perfect offering

I wanted Carol to wear a pretty dress (this is the one I was thinking of, in case anyone’s interested), and then this happened. If you’re expecting any sort of plot or wildness like that, please don’t even click the read more, because you’ll be so disappointed as it’s pretty much allllll smush (with a tiny bit of angst). Idk, apparently I just have ~7k worth of random feelings about them is all.

The title is from Leonard Cohen’s ‘Anthem,’ which is one of my favorite songs in this universe.

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Second Chance (Karamel) - Chapter 9

Originally posted by highwaytothe7hells

Summary
One moment can change everything.

When Mon-El lost Kara, his fiancee, in an alien invasion one year ago, he thought he’d never see her again. Since then he’s been trying to build himself a life and pick up whatever pieces of him was left after losing her, and he’s been failing miserably. Just when he thinks he can’t go on anymore and loses all hope, he’s thrust into a world completely different than his; a world in which everything he used to know is changed. Which includes Kara Danvers never dying on that fateful night.

Mon-El soon finds out it won’t be as easy as he hoped it would be to reverse the changes, especially when with each passing day he gets more sucked up into his new life. Because in the end, reversing everything means losing Kara all over again, and he’s not sure he’s strong enough to go through that a second time.

Second Chance
- Prologue
- Chapter 1: Failure
- Chapter 2: Nightmare
- Chapter 3: Gone
- Chapter 4: Ripple Effect
- Chapter 5: Fault
- Chapter 6: Valor
- Chapter 7: Not Enough
- Chapter 8: Happiness
- Chapter 9: The Right Thing
- Chapter 10: Hollowness

Other Karamel Fanfics:
Karamel Fanfiction Masterlist

Note: hey y'all!

right now, i’m so glad that i’d went ahead with my plan for this story and wrote until chapter 14 (yup, 14), because if i’d written it according to my original plan, there was no way i could’ve posted this chapter right now, because, well, i have six exams next week in five days, and last week i’ve had five of them. there was NO WAY i could’ve written it. BUT, fortunately i did, so you won’t have to wait more after that cliffhanger on the last chapter ;)

anyway, without further ado, i hope you like this chapter! i feel like a lot will be explained in it, so if you’re confused or have any questions, please let me know :)

also, i barely know ANYTHING about comic books, so the character references in this chapter are based on the Supergirl show and my own imagination. just wanted to point that up if it ended up being different than the comic books :)

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All Business - Alfie Solmons Fan Fic (rqtd) - Just You Wait P2

would you possibly do a part two to “just you wait” where o/c never turned up to the date or whatever alfie had planned because she wanted to make him wait like he did her, and they don’t speak for a week or whatever and he asks her to be involved in a meeting (or make that bit up I don’t mind) and she gets her own back on Alfie during the meeting? Thank you x


 PART ONE – Just You Wait

All Business - Just You Wait, Part Two

 Her lunch sat untouched on the desk crowded with paperwork, as Y/N stared at the opposite wall lost in thought.  Or maybe it was lust.   She hardly knew anymore, only that her insides were in a constant twisted state.   It had been lingering, coiling within her since that night when she had changed in and out of that damn polka dot dress at least a dozen times, before backing out of the date.  If it was a date at all.   More like a command attendance. 

It had been about a week.    Each day flipping back and forth between anger, regret and a desperate unquenched desire she wasn’t rightly proud to admit.   A week of avoiding one another – until they couldn’t.   Especially since he was her boss and actually required her to do work for him.   His requests coming in a stilted, indifferent tone.   Followed by that look.   Despite his best grumpy efforts, he couldn’t hide what he really wanted either.   Her own gaze a loaded canon of emotion and confusion.   The lingering glances often leading to casual touches and every now and then she could still feel him like a ghost that whispered upon her flesh.

A brief brush upon her arm “Miss Y/N can you please type this form.”    

A light hand on her back.   “Miss Y/N please come this way to my office.”    

Every touch pushing her further into the regret camp, as her mind still vividly recalled the feel of his mouth and hands – those strong hands all over her body.   She had only just fully healed from the red, raised welts left behind by his beard.   The day they disappeared in the mirror a feeling of loss overcame her.   She had meant to prove a point, and now it seemed she proved it all too well and lost the bigger catch.    The truth was, she had been desperately wishing for a second chance, but Y/N just didn’t necessarily want Alfie to know that.

And now it had arrived.  Of a sort.

She stared at the note that lay crumpled upon her desk; ink blurred from the sweat of her hands.   Another summons.  This time – all business.  As in a Business Meeting that she was required to attend.  Strictly legit as it absolutely fell in line with her prescribed duties.   A duty she had performed at least a dozen previous times.   So why were her palms sweating?

There would be others in attendance.  It wasn’t like she would have to be alone with him.  Her stomach clenched in protest and she picked up the neglected sandwich, taking a small bite.   It didn’t settle the gnawing ache that was more fear then hunger.  Or perhaps, it was just another kind of hunger.   She knew he felt it too.   A man didn’t look at a woman the way Alfie Solomons looked at her – if he didn’t want her.   And she was damn sure that he had gained a measure of respect since she did not jump when he commanded.   Despite how easily he had stoked her passion.   Now, to just hold that in check so she could do her job. And then, what?   She pushed the thought aside as she rose to go to what she now considered his lair.

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What Did I Get Myself Into? - 4

A/N: A little heavier than previous chapters. Talk of Spencer’s tragic past.

                                                 ———————-

After you and Spencer had divulged some of your deepest fantasies to each other, he still insisted that you get to know each other, both in general and in bed, before jumping into any of the things you’d discussed. You’d learned a lot about him. He had been through hell on more than one occasion while on the job. Kidnapped, shot, tortured - you named it and it had happened to him, at least once. Hesitatingly, he also confided that after he’d been kidnapped and tortured by a serial killer more than a decade ago, he had gotten hooked on dilauded, which the killer had shot him up with numerous times over the course of two days. Some days, he claimed to still feel the pull of the drug, but he hadn’t used since he quit all those years ago - no matter what life had thrown at him.

Your mouth dropped open in horror when he recounted the ordeal, but you made him promise that if he ever felt the pull again, he’d come talk to you.

“I promise, Y/N,” he said, kissing you tenderly. “Thank you.”

“So…” you started, not wanting to push if he didn’t want to talk about it, “Can I ask about your parents and going to college at such a young age? When I mentioned it before, you seemed to ignore the subject, but I would like to know more about your childhood.”

He gathered you in his arms and sat flush up against his bookshelf, having ended up there after a pillow fight that left you both in stitches. Taking a deep breath, he began, “Well, I did say that my mom had schizophrenia, right?” You nodded, grabbing his hand and squeezing it; this was obviously difficult for him to talk about. “She was not medicated well for a really long time. More than once, she’d have an episode where the voices were really horrible and she’d sleep a lot. Sometimes I would even have an issue at school and be late, but she wouldn’t realize it because she was too deep in her head.”

Leaning into his neck, you tilted up, kissing his neck, “I’m so sorry.” You squeezed his hand again, convincing him to continue. “My dad left when I was 12. He couldn’t take my mother’s issues anymore and he really didn’t know how to talk to or take care of me, so I kind of raised myself for a time.”

“So you don’t talk to your dad?” you asked sadly. You couldn’t imagine - you and your father were very close.

“No, not really,” he shrugged, having apparently come to terms with his relationship with his father. “We aired things out a few years ago, but we still don’t talk that much. He missed too much of my life.”

Reaching back, you grabbed a handful of his hair, massaging his scalp. “And how are you with your mom now? Is she on the right medication?”

That made him smile. “Yea, mom and I are good. It was tough when I was around 18, because I put her in an institution at home in Las Vegas against her will. She was mad at me for a little while, but once she was medicated properly, she knew I had done what I did because I love her. I’d like you to meet her one day, I think she’d love you. She loves people who are straightforward.”

“I’d love to meet her one day,” you said, spinning around to face him, straddling his lap with your knees on the outside of his. “You don’t think she would look down on me for my job?” you asked, always worried that people would make assumptions.

“No,” he replied instantly, “As a matter of fact, I think she would ask a lot of questions. Actually, when you do have that conversation, I don’t think I want to be in the room.”

You laughed, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. “What about school?”

“That’s even tougher for some reason. Probably because my mom had a diagnosable problem. There was no excuse for what I went through,” he said, looking down and swallowing hard. He had obviously tried to forget the terror he had endured as a child prodigy. “I don’t know even know where to start. I was made fun of and called all types of names on a constant basis, but the worst was…” He started to choke up, the words catching in his throat. 

You caressed his face in both your hands, peppering it with soft, gentle kisses. “Take your time, Spence,” you whispered. 

Having taken a few cleansing breaths, he started up again. “Once, when I was 13, this girl I liked asked me to meet her behind the gym. She was easily the prettiest girl in school, so I was excited. When I got back there, she asked me to put a blindfold on, so I did…” With his next breath, the tears started falling. You just pressed your forehead against his, hoping it was enough to get him through.

“Once I had the blindfold on, she gave me a kiss on the cheek and all of a sudden I heard a bunch of people snickering. All of the popular kids had showed up and started laughing, including her, and once I took the blindfold off, they stripped me of everything but my underwear and tied me to the flagpole. I wasn’t able to free myself until later that night and my mom was having an episode, so she didn’t even realize I was missing.”

You closed your eyes and started to cry yourself. Children could be so cruel. “Oh, baby,” you said, kissing him, tasting a mixture of both of your tears, “I’m so sorry. That must’ve been horrible.”

“It was,” he breathed, the tension of telling the tale falling away with your soft touches, “but it’s over now. And look at me now. They suck and I have you.”

“Yes, you do. And we have to make blindfolds fun for you again. I want to erase that memory from your head, or at least replace it with something fun.”

Easing back into the bookcase, Spencer moved his hand under your tank top, gently stroking the skin on your lower back. Your small intake of breath caught his attention and he pressed down on the area, pulling you into him. His other hand traveled up into your hair, gently tugging back to expose your neck to his affections. You moaned happily as he kissed at the flesh behind your ear. As he sat up, holding you close and placing you on your back on the rug at the foot of his bookcase, he looked up and down your body, silently asking if you were ready for this - for him.

His lean frame hovered over yours and you answered his silent plea by gliding your hands to the buttons at his chest, slowly undoing them. “I want you,” you breathed, thinking it was one of the most sincere things you’d ever uttered.

The look of hesitation in his eyes disappeared and he grasped the side of your neck in his hand, his mouth following suit, sucking and licking down your neck and in between your breasts. A small whimper escaped your lips as his nimble fingers nudged your shirt and bra upwards, revealing your upper half to his hungry gaze.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he muttered, kneading your breasts in his hands.

“Please.”

With your pleas ringing in his ears, he latched his mouth around one of your nipples and continued to knead the other breast. The sensations he evoked throughout your body were ones you’d never experienced with someone else and you found your hand traveling downward, inching into your underwear, desperate to bring about some kind of release.

Spencer grabbed your wrist in his hand, easing it away from your jeans and he looked up, “I’d like to be the one to do that if you don’t mind,” he smiled, kissing just above the waistband of your jeans. “But I would like to watch you do that one day.”

“Do you wanna watch me masturbate, Spencer Reid?” you giggled, feeling the heat spread faster from your core. Your body enjoyed the thought of him watching you lose yourself apparently. Dawn would flip if she could be inside your head right now.

As he licked his lips, he peeled your jeans and panties off, casually throwing them behind him without ever taking his eyes off of you. “Very much so,” he groaned, divesting himself of the rest of his clothing, “but that’ll be another day.”

“Please,” you whimpered again, “I need you inside me.” Without another thought or word, he slipped inside your slick heat, causing your pelvis to grind upward, desperate to get closer. “Oh, god, Spencer…” you moaned.

“I love hearing my name on your lips,” he mumbled into your mouth. As he began to pick up pace, you dug your fingers into his shoulder blades and bit your lip, trying not to scream out and draw unwanted attention to his apartment. You couldn’t believe that after 30 years, you were about to have your first orgasm with someone else; he knew you were close. His right hand moved in between your bodies, applying a slight, but consistent pressure to your clit, which, along with long strokes, sent you over the edge in a matter of minutes.

You noticed that as soon as you climaxed, Spencer all but stopped, staring at your arched back and waiting for you to ride out your high. As your back eased down, touching the soft rug underneath, you reached down to stroke his length and soon after, he realized his own release.

Out of breath and closer than ever, Spencer reached toward the couch to grab a blanket, wrapping it around both of you. He pulled you into him once more and spent, both emotionally and physically, you fell asleep in each other’s arms under the shining rays of the moonlight streaming through his apartment window.

Sign Me To Sleep: Part Two

Pairing: Bucky x Deaf!Reader

Word Count: 2,680

Warnings: Angst. Torture and fighting and stuff.

A/N: Part Two! I really hope you guys enjoy! Hopefully the angst isn’t too much! Sorry if some of the sign descriptions are wrong, feel free to tell me if they are. Part 3 will be up soon if you guys want it :’)

Part 1  Part 3 Part 4

Originally posted by blackinjustice

You were kept heavily drugged for the next couple of weeks, and plans for The Winter Soldier to go back into cryo had been delayed. He was the one to subdue you after you had taken out nearly 50 HYDRA members. They were keeping The Soldier around you at all times, in case you miraculously were able to function against the sedatives running through your veins.

They started to wean you off of the drugs slowly, making sure they had done all of the tests they could. They had blindfolded you and covered your hands in clunky metal covers in hopes you wouldn’t be able to use your power. When you were finally somewhat conscious you were completely panicked. You couldn’t see, you couldn’t hear and you couldn’t move.

The Winter Soldier was standing guard at the door when you came to. He had convinced the doctors to let him stay because he said he would intimidate you most. But he had actually said it because he knew you would trust him, and he trusted you. No matter how many times they seemed to wipe him, he would always recognize the small girl with wide eyes and choppy hair.

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Unwanted (Part 2)

Summary: The reader is kidnapped by Hydra and finds out that she is Tony Stark’s daughter. She is taken under the wing of the Avengers with Bucky and Steve acting as her protectors. The reader discovers the truth about her family while trying to grieve over the death of her mother, who died during the events in Sokovia. Will she be able to forgive the people responsible for her mother’s death? Will she survive the danger that has fallowed her all her life?

Bucky X Reader X Steve

Words: 1559

Part 1

Originally posted by moan-s

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The name’s Annie Edison, but people call me Psycho ‘cause I had a nervous breakdown in high school.

dust to dust

SPN Writing Challenge: @ozonecologne vs @magnificat-cas

Prompt: Chalkboard

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

Word Count: 1574

Tags: Fluff, College AU, Lit Professor!Dean, Physics Professor!Cas, nerds

Dean knocked the lecture hall door open with his hip, taking a long drag from his coffee cup. First day of the new semester and he was raring to go; he’d been bored all summer without the constant distraction of frazzled undergrads clamoring for his attention, and was looking forward to the bustle of a new school year.

“Morning, nerds!” He called into the room as he crossed the room to deposit his things on the front table.

He took a moment to survey the hall. He was a little worried when he heard he was going to have to teach in a lecture hall – usually his courses were small enough that he was put in a normal classroom – but this year there seemed to be a shortage in his preferred room assignments. He didn’t like teaching large groups of students, but it looked like he was in luck.

“Oh, good. A whole twelve of you showed up,” he remarked. The twelve students spared him encouraging smiles and a few hushed laughs, all clustered in the front of the room.

Dean nodded to himself, pursing his lips. He rolled up the sleeves of his button down and turned towards the chalkboard, already launching into his introductory speech. “Good. Ok. Well, I’m Professor Winchester and this is Modern American Litera – what the hell is that.”

The chalkboard was absolutely COVERED, top to bottom, with numbers and symbols and erasure smudges.

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Shipmas: Day 1 - LadyNoir/Adrinette (Part 7)

Part 7 of 7.

A one shot about a bunch of sticky notes with poorly written pickup lines for both LadyNoir and Adrinette. Two for the price of one!

This marks the end of Shipmas day one. I hope you Miraculous fans enjoyed your two ships for today. Please look forward to your Marichat/Ladrien tomorrow :D

Total time spent writing: 10 hours. 

I lied not when I said it was a lot of work. Imagine if I kept the 5 quota. I’d be dead.

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Afterthought

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1462

Warnings: Angst, implied smut no descriptions

AN: This just came out as pure angst and I have no idea why. I’m sorry lol. I hope you like it though. Thank you for erasing my doubt @jalove-wecallhimdean. I don’t feel like I am any good at angst but she reassured me this was more than okay.

Request: Request, cause you’re so lovely and such an amazing writer! I love you! Could I request a Whoever you feel compelled to write, with lots of fluff (smut if you so feel inclined) but whoever comes across reader who’s using herself as bait and they hang back to discover she’s in over her head– @plaidstiel-wormstache

Originally posted by supernaturalgifscollection


Being bait was never your idea of fun, but sometimes it was a necessary evil. This was one of those cases. There had been reports of girls fitting your description showing up dead after visiting a local nightclub. The bodies were always found drained of blood and you had found several tiny fangs at the last crime scene. You were definitely dealing with a vampire.


You had to go shopping for a dress that would help catch the attention of the vamp, not that you were looking forward to it. You were definitely more of a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl, but you did what you had to do for the job. You squeezed into the tiny black number, trying desperately not to think about how much skin was hanging out for the world to see, and made your way to the club just down the street from your current motel.


You didn’t always hunt alone, at one point in time you had several different hunting partners throughout your career. You just had trust issues that went beyond basic repair, which didn’t make you the easiest person to work with. You’d do anything for the other person, but would never let them do anything for you. Dean Winchester was the only one you had come close enough to trusting, and he had tossed that all out of the window the second his father called him. You understood it in a way, family is supposed to be important, you just never had much of a family to hang onto.

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You’re not sorry lll

Imagine Kozik cheating on you and you running away

Originally posted by rhaegarlyanna

Originally posted by accio-lucax


After some time you learned they called themselves “The Sugar Girls”. You’ve learned a lot of stuff with them;good and bad things. You still weren’t used to people calling you Raven, or to have been lying about your whole life up until this point but you had your reasons and you were hoping that if any of the girls found out, you would be understood. You had nothing on you; you’ve sold your cellphone, helping you and Melissa, your roommate, to pay the first month; and your car was abandoned in a lot, getting rusty and dusty. being sold by the piece; you had nothing.

Mrs. Lane gave everyone a sweet deal in exchange of the girls working in there; It wasn’t fancy like Diosa, but the dance was really good, and you had a roof on top of your head, you had your pay day  and the tips were better. As long as you worked the nights of  the days you got, you could do everything you wanted at the day light. You spent most of the time asleep, or staring at the slightly pale shadow of your wedding ring in your finger. What used to be there, the promise of endless love, was gone now.  You have been wanting to call Darla, tell her you were alright and that you were good somewhere near Tacoma, but either she will try to talk you out of this nonsense or she would call Kozik for him to find you. You were alright just were you were no one kicking your heart, no one telling you what to do; just you and your Sugar girls.

A week had passed since you last saw Kozik; but you wouldn’t know, since every connection with your past had been erased from your life. It was still hard; but you tried not to think about it too much; because if you did you would cry. 

“Raven…” Melissa called, handing you tonight’s outfit. It was your very first solo performance, being content before with being in a chorus and only dancing on the stage, in the darker part. “Are you ready?” 

She was the coolest girl ever. She kind of remind you of Darla for some reason; she was kind, and she loved to drink her panties off, from what you’ve learned she had a kid up down in Texas where her mother was taking care of it; Melissa told them she worked at a gas station and sent money every week. It looked like you weren’t the only one living a double life. You nodded, getting up and trying on the red and studded bikini you were supposed to wear this night. She fixed a few things, making it more flattering for you, and you smiled to each other.

“You’re really good at this…” 

“My mother is a tailor.” She said, writing some things down in the notebook. “Mrs. Lane gives me extra money if i do the outfits for the stage; So it helps me and Kenny down in Texas.” She sighed staring at nothing “It’s a good life.” 

You looked at her, sad expression on your face. “Yeah…it is.” 



Herman could hear his heart beating in his head as Happy punched him once again; opening a wound in his cheek bone, cutting his flesh as blood started to pour out. Both men were breathless, shirtless, finishing each others off in the ring, at Herman’s request. It was a way to calm him down. Clay and Jax kept staring at them, while Bobby was up in the ring, smoking a cigarette.

“When did she left?” Jax asked, without taking his eyes off the fight.

“It’s been a week. We called Quinn and nothing. Donnut’s old lady doesn’t know anything, either.” Clay said, taking a drag from his big cigar. 

“Juice found anything?” 

“Her cellphones dead. The license plate appears missing on the system; wherever she is, she’s walking.” 

Jax sighed, thinking for a minute what he would do if his old lady went missing like that. “I mean…we’ve all been there, done that…” the Vice president confessed. Clay nodded, crossing his arms. 

“Yeah; this one actually has balls.” Kozik smashed his fist into Happy’s jaw, throwing him against the robes, with a pretty nasty cut on his eyebrow, too. Clay rolled his eyes and got up. “Bobby, break them off.” Him, along with Jax left the room, as Bobby pushed Herman away from Happy. 

Both men rested against the robes, trying to catch his breath. Bobby sighed and shook his head, slapping Kozik’s shoulder. “We got all charts looking for her, brother…” The blonde one looked down as Bobby got off the ring. “We’ll find her.” In a matter of seconds, it was only Happy and Kozik on the ring, no one around. Happy rubbed his face and sighed, sitting on the edge of the ring, his feet hanging on the side of it. Herman took himself a few minutes but did it too. 

They sat down in silence for a couple of minutes before someone said anything; Herman, of course, breaking the silence. 

“I don’t even know why I did it…” He shook his head, looking down.

“You were thinking with your dick.” Happy said. “You wouldn’t hurt her. We didn’t knew she was here.” 

“Still…I’m worried.” Your old man, said, getting off the ring and standing in front of Happy. “A lot of people want my head in a plate; If she’s alone, with no brother near…” Happy motioned for him to shut up; after all you were his best friend, like a sister to him. 

“The Sons are looking for her. She’s a big girl…she can take care of herself, brother.” Kozik nodded, as he played with the ring on her pants pocket, eager for you to wear it again. 



Since your real name wasn’t Raven, you decided it was the one you were wearing as a stripper. Raven Delight; because according to Melissa, or Felicia Hot, you needed a stripper last name, at least. Your hands were sweating and you were so nervous you were afraid you wouldn’t hold on to the pole and fall flat on your ass. The glitter all over your body was starting to get itchy and your make up was falling due to your sweat but you were ready. Normally, it will take quite a lot of time to throw a rookie to the stage, but you were a fast learn and you needed the cash.

You danced your night away to the beat of “High by the beach” by Lana Del Rey. You walked the cat walk and jumped to the pole, in a classic way, sliding down ever so slowly, making everyone’s jaw drop. La Jungla was the perfect place for lost girls trying to find a family, and you needed one. The strip club was small and it was really hot inside, making everyone sweat. You swayed your hips to the slow beat, and it was fresh for all the costumers, being used to the quick beats and cheap dances; You agreed on stripping and dancing on the stage, but you were going to do it your own way. 

As the big finale, lacking all of your clothes, you slide down to the ground, spreading your legs and doing a split, while the lights went off and the whole crowd erupted in cheers and hugs, as you felt the money being thrown at you. Your roommates were cheering too, jumping up and down from the side of the stage as they saw you get on your knees lifting all the green. You smiled at them as Melissa raised two thumbs up, while Mrs. Lane smirked from her desk, smoking a big joint. 


The kutte on his back reads “SAMMAY”; his name was Lost Boy; His actual name was Francis but Lost Boy seemed a better fitted name for a Son from Maywood. He looked at you, squinting his eyes while his cigarette burned down to ashes, on top of the wood table of La Jungla. 

“Rocky…” He spoke, low voice. The named Rocky turned around at him, following his gaze. “Could it be her?”

“Huh?”

“SAMCRO, that old lady…” Rocky looked again and stared back at Lost Boy. “Look at her…” Rocky denied.

“I don’t think so..” he said, but then smirked, lust in his eyes. “I can check for ink if you want.” Lost Boy smiled at him, showing his gold teeth and shaking his head as he got out his prepay, dialing a single number. As he did, you were already hugging your new found sisters, while excited holding your money, too excited you didn’t noticed the bunch of kuttes with the reaper on. 

“Bobby? Lost Boy from SAMMAY…” He took a long drag of his cigarette. “Yeah; I think we’ve got something for you.” 

With These Hands

Hey, could you maybe do an imagine where the reader is an orphaned teenager and was brainwashed like Bucky and she used to work for Hydra cause she was good at fighting and also an elemental and she stayed with Bucky after they escaped and they know what each other went through so they’re like really really good friends and they think of each as family. Could you maybe do a scene from civil war or just a scene from before where they’re just like living together or something? Thanks 😊💘

I love this prompt so much. Hope you don’t mind but I changed it a little bit. This story turned out to be A LOT darker than I planned. Feedback is always welcome! Enjoy! For anon.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 1225

Warnings: mentions of torture, suicide

It’s pretty angsty and depressing. Absolutely no fluff here.

The smell of stale blood. The sound of echoing screams. The colors of the laboratory. It would not stop haunting you. You knew you were dreaming. But you had no control.

The scientists dragged you into a cramped cell, forcing a gag in your throat. They didn’t have to, your voice was already gone the moment they kidnapped you from New York. One of the scientists grabbed you by the hair and another one stuck a needle in your arm to tranquilize you.

After God knows how long, you wake up on a cold metal table, naked and screaming. The bright fluorescent light blinded you from seeing what was around you. It smelled like rubbing alcohol. Your body was numb, so numb that you thought they had cut off your limbs.But you could hear clearly. And you remember their words.

“Ms. (L/n), you will be the next step in human evolution.”

You wake up, panting, sweating, and Bucky by your side. His face was scrunched up with worry, afraid he was going to lose you to the past. He knew that whatever HYDRA put into you was still there, and in him too. Bucky was kneeling by your bed, holding your hand with his right hand. Feeling his pulse and warmth brought you back to reality. You look at him with tearful eyes. No words were shared between the two of you. No words were necessary to communicate the pain and regret that both you experienced. Sniffling, you fall into his arms. His soothing embrace doesn’t calm you. If anything, it only reminds you of the shit you’ve been through.

“I can’t do this anymore, Bucky. It’s too hard,” you sob into his chest. He shushes you as he pats your head gently.

“You’re strong, (y/n). I know you can do this,” Bucky whispers. He knows what you’re going to say. You’ve said it a million times before.

“But I can’t. I wake up from these nightmares, and I live my life scared it’ll happen again,” you cry. Your life isn’t even a life. Every day is spent confined in the dark and secluded apartment, afraid you’ll be noticed if you go outside. Any sound you hear puts you on edge, because you think it’s someone trying to kill you. Or worse. Take you back. It was getting too hard to live this life, if this is what you called a life. “I should just…kill myself,” you whisper. “I’d being doing everyone a favor.”

“No,” Bucky says sternly. You were the one thing keeping him here. He couldn’t lose you. “You’re not going to kill yourself.” It pained him to even think about what you would do to yourself if he wasn’t here. All those years under HYDRA, you and Bucky were under their commands. Lab rats. Assassins. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

Quieting your cries, you looked at Bucky. His cold blue eyes bore into you, a spark of hope inside his eyes. He was right. He couldn’t lose you. And you couldn’t lose him. But everyday, you were losing your mind. Even without HYDRA brainwashing you five times a day, you were still subconsciously under their command. You’d rather not live than live with their filth plaguing your brain.

“You know I was supposed to turn twenty, the day before they caught me?” you mumble. “It was the day before my twentieth birthday. I had no one to celebrate it with, though. My parents were long gone, and my friends…well, who’d want to be friends with me?” You laugh quietly, a cold, frozen laugh. You glanced at Bucky, he was listening to your story. He was surprised by your openness. Never had you been so open about your past. “I was walking home from work. There was riot on the street that I usually took, so I went a different way. And they took me. Right off the street.” You laugh bitterly at the memory. “Every fucking day since, I’ve wanted to die.”

“I’m not going to let that happen to you. None of this is your fault,” Bucky replies. You’ve heard him say that a thousand times before. He was right, it wasn’t your fault. But you still did it. All the murders, all the dirty work.

“I know Bucky, I know,” you say calmly. You lift yourself off the bed and walk towards the fridge. While you were grabbing the bottle of water, you saw a gun on top of the fridge. Your eyes flickered back and forth. This was your chance. A chance to flee from all of this shit. You gulp, hoping Bucky didn’t hear your thoughts. But he did. He runs for the gun and snatches off the fridge. Your heart beats quickly, but Bucky’s beats even faster.

“You thought I would,” you say with a cold smile.

“You weren’t going to. But I wasn’t gonna to risk it,” he says back.

You place the water bottle on the counter. “Don’t worry Barnes, I’m not going anywhere.” You sit down on the couch and look intently at your hands. All the memories of the awful things you’ve done with your hands flash past your eyes, making you wince in pain. What could you do to wash your hands clean of all the blood? How could you forget all the faces of your victims?

Bucky sits down next to you, and put his metal arm around your shoulder. He knows exactly what you’re thinking about, because he thinks about it every second of every day too. He had been there, all those missions. And you had been at his side, every mission.

Still looking at your hands, you think of the last time you used your abilities. Controlling the elements, nature at your will. It was unnatural, to say the least. And they had told you that you were “enhanced”. Scoffing at their words, you clasp your hands together. Then Bucky does something, something he had never done before. He places his right hand on your closed hands, and gently rubs his thumb on the back of your hand. You feel his affection and love in every nerve of your body. His calloused hands firmly held yours, as if he was afraid of losing you forever.

“You’re not weird,” he says quietly.

You chuckle, “Thanks. Really reassuring.”

A smile plays on his lips. You haven’t seen him smile like that before. “You’re beautiful. Whether you see it or not, I do,” he confesses. He takes your hand and intertwines his hand with yours. “Whatever you’ve done with these hands, and whatever you will do with these hands, it won’t ever erase the person you are. You’re still the nineteen year old from New York.”

His kind words warm your frozen heart. He had never expressed himself in this way to you before. And Bucky was just as surprised as you are. He thought he was no longer capable of emotions. But after all those years of enslavement under HYDRA, he finally realized his feelings that he had buried in his heart. He loved you.

You look at him with wide eyes, confused. Searching his eyes for honesty, you stare at him.

“And I mean every word,” he says reassuringly.

“I know Barnes,” you smile. You loved him back.

Originally posted by stanxstan

After the hug

So I promised @ifyouarelookingforbabynames​ some fic as study motivation. I may have slightly gotten carried away. I hope you enjoy it!

On AO3 as well: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9279233


Eventually, John stops crying. It takes a while, but when the tears finally stop he feels better than he has in a while. Yeah, his eyes feel as though someone has coated them in sandpaper, and he’s pretty sure that he’s gotten snot all over Sherlock’s shirt, but he feels…lighter, somehow. As though a burden he hadn’t noticed he was carrying, is suddenly gone.

 He loosens his hands. At some point they’d migrated to clutching the back of Sherlock’s shirt so tightly that John is pretty sure the creases are going to be there forever. Sherlock releases him immediately, and steppes back. John tries not to feel bereft.

 “Okay?” Sherlock asks. He seems hesitant, not like himself, and John can’t stop himself noticing the slightly blurred edges of the word, where Sherlock’s swollen mouth and stuffed nose robs him of his usually-precise diction.

 John shrugs. Do better, the echo of Mary’s ghost whispers in his mind.

 “That was…that thing you did, that was…” he looks for the right word, and eventually his mind presents him with, “good. Thank you.”

 It’s amazing. Sherlock doesn’t move a muscle but his face lights up and he looks…transcendent. It lasts only a moment and then Sherlock Holmes is back, but with a new softness around his eyes and his beautifully expressive mouth, a melancholy twist that John has never really seen before.

 “I’m glad no-one saw that,” Sherlock murmurs, turning away. “Mrs Hudson will think she’s been right all along.”

 And John has been deflecting and denying for years – years, since school and uni and Afghanistan, years of saying the words over and over as though they could protect him from…something, he didn’t even know what, maybe himself? – but he can’t just let that stand.

 “Hasn’t she, though?” he suddenly asks, and Sherlock freezes with his back to John. He doesn’t even look like he’s breathing.

 John waits. He can be patient, if the goal is worth it, and this goal, he’s just decided, is worth everything. It takes almost a minute before Sherlock unlocks, and takes a deep breath. He doesn’t turn around as he asks, “What do you mean?”

 It takes John aback for a moment, but then he squares his shoulders and soldiers on, because he’s just given this man a speech about taking your fate in both hands and he damn well will practice what he preaches.

 “Mrs Hudson,” he says. “Lestrade. Irene. Even Mary, for God’s sake! They’ve been telling me and telling me for years, and I didn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it but…Sherlock, are you in love with me?”

 Sherlock doesn’t answer, and John, both fists clenched so tightly that they’re almost certainly going to hurt later, presses on before Sherlock can deflect or deny or even respond.

 “Because….because I think I’m in love with you. I think I’ve been in love with you for years, and I’ve been telling myself that it’s just friendship, but.” And that’s as far as he can go. That’s as much as he can say to that rigid back, those shoulders, that bowed head.

 Sherlock doesn’t turn around.

 “John, if this is just some kind of…”

 And John doesn’t let him go on, because this is too important, this needs to be said.

 “No, Sherlock, it’s – look, when you…when you were dead, right? I had a lot of time to think. And one of the things I thought about was us. Well, it’s actually all I thought about, but artistic license, yeah? And I realised that I would have spent the rest of my life with you, and I would have been happy. Even if we were never anything more than friends, because I love you, and I just…I love you. And it’s okay if you don’t feel that way, you don’t have to-“

 “I do,” Sherlock says, and it’s quiet, so quiet John wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t listening for the faintest interjection.

 There’s a moment of silence, and you can hear a pin drop.

 “You-“

 “I love you,” Sherlock says, and he begins to pace, just as he always did when he was explaining his deductions. “Of course I love you John, don’t be stupid! I wouldn’t fake my death for just anyone. Of course, I didn’t really understand until…well, that doesn’t matter now. Anyway, I love you, and I think I’ve loved you since the day we met. You said I was amazing, do you remember? And it was like fireworks in my brain. And later on you thought…well. What you just said about Mary and how you wanted to be the version of yourself she saw? You were that for me. You’ve always been that for me. You’ve always held me to a higher standard, believed better of me than I did myself. You’re my conductor of light, John, and when you were gone…” Sherlock turns, and there’s an aching vulnerability in his face, almost like when he was on the floor in the morgue. A sort of fatalism, like someone who is expecting to be hurt and is resigned to it. “When you were gone it was as though the whole world had turned to shadow, and I couldn’t…I couldn’t see.”

 And Sherlock’s voice cracks on the last words, as they did in the hospital – God, John wants to see Culverton burn, if only to erase the way Sherlock’s voice broke as he said that he didn’t want to die – and his hand goes to his mouth as though he can’t quite believe what has escaped from it. He is about to turn away again, but John finds himself taking a long step and pulling Sherlock into his arms.

 Sherlock lets him, lets John guide his head to rest on John’s shoulder. Lets his arms go around John even as John rests one hand in his hair and the other on his hip.

 Even as John murmurs into his hear that he loves him, he loves him, he’s always loved him and always will.

We’ll Always Have the Moon

Sam x Reader

This fic goes out to all the friends who don’t have the opportunity to see each other everyday. I had this idea one night with drunk and talking to my now best friends, @demondean-for-kingofhell and @holywaterbucketchallenge. I was weepy because they live so far from me and I’ve yet to have the opportunity to hang out with them in real life.

I realized that whether you live down the street from your best friend, or 2 time zones away, distance is nothing. The bond you have with someone can be some much stronger then something as insignificant as distance.

Shout out to all the others I’ve met on Tumblr, and will probably never meet in person: @busybee612 (my Editor Queen) @justanotherdeangirl25 @pulgapelayo18 @thefallenisredeemed @kittenofdoomage @oriona75 @supernaturalgeekygal @deanwinchester-af @d-s-winchester @balthazars-muse @bookshido @beriala @sexyashmike @mrswhozeewhatsis @ariminiria @callmeshifty @blushingsamgirl @19lynda81

Originally posted by hunterchesters

“Momma! Isn’t the moon SO big tonight?”

“Yes,” she sighed with a sad smile. She looked on as her son snuggled into his bed, getting ready for a good night’s sleep. She smiled wide and tucked him in; able to forget herself momentarily. After kissing him goodnight and flipping his ‘Paw Patrol’ nightlight on, she snuck out of his room, and headed downstairs.

Being wide awake, she poured herself a soothing cup of coffee, and headed for the porch swing on her deck. The night air was bitter as she pulled her worn sweater closer to her body. Getting comfy on the swing, she began to sip her coffee, feeling the warmth spread through her body.

There was no where else her eyes could wander, they were drawn to the glorious moon that hung triumphantly in the dark sky above. It was ridiculously clear tonight as the stars shone brilliantly, only making the moon stick out even more.

It was nights like this that she thought of him. Nights like this where was wondered if he even remembered her. But as soon as she’d see the brightness in the sky, her anxieties were suppressed, and her heart was settled. As long as the moon hung in the sky, she knew Sam was okay.

Sam had once meant the absolute world to her and her son.

Being from the world they were, there was nothing normal about their relationship, nor how it started.

Y/N would never actually call herself a “hunter”. Although she would lend a hand to the Winchesters whenever they needed, when it came to the fight against evil, she prided herself to be the brains of the outfit. She was wicked smart, always knowing exactly what section of the library to head to.

Spending so much time with the Winchesters over the years, it was inevitable that Y/N developed some sort of bond with the two men. Dean was always the brother she’d never had, but Sam was more. There was always something more to the simple shoulder pat, or reassuring smile the long haired hunter would send her way.

Although there was an obvious attraction there, the timing was never right. There was never the perfect opportunity. They were never in the same place, emotionally. It was very frustrating to Dean and Cas as they watched Y/N and Sam dance around each other.

When Sam was ready to take the leap, and pursue Y/N, she wasn’t interested in dating anyone. Once Y/N realized she really cared about Sam, he was off shacking up with a cute veterinarian.

Looking back, it was kinda funny to watch; their relationship being something out of a romantic comedy. Well one that included blood, monsters, and more blood.

It wasn’t until one night, Y/N called Sam, clearly upset, that the dynamic between the two clueless adults changed.

Sam’s fists curled in such anger, as he brooded silently, listening to Y/N retell the story of her evening.

Jonathan was everything Sam wasn’t. That’s probably why she was drawn to him. Hoping to forget Sam. It didn’t matter how shitty Jonathan was to her, or how she would never admit how unhappy she was, she’d never leave him. He was a welcome distraction from what she really wanted.

Being the deadbeat roaming hunter he was, at the mention of “pregnant” and “it’s yours”, Jonathan was out of there faster than you could imagine.

The father’s absence left Y/N alone to bear and raise a child all on her own. She wasn’t scared; hell, she’d battled the scariest things this world, and others, had to offer.

Being a single mom was no biggie. Sam thought otherwise.

“Y/N, don’t be stupid. There’s no way you can have this kid. Do you realize what you do for a living?” he chided.Y/N turned on him, finally letting the tears flow. Everything that happened was bad enough, but having her best friend scold her like a child, was the straw the broke the camel’s back. “Yes, Sam. I am fully aware of what I do for a living!” she spat.

The majority of Sam’s anger and frustration melted when he looked into her eyes. She was scared, and whether she would admit it or not, she wasn’t sure she could do it alone. His body visibly relaxed as his shoulders slumped, and he took a deep breath. He ran his hand over his face before he closed the gap between the two of them. The flood gates completely broke as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into the reassurance of his embrace.

She shook as he pulled her even closer, squeezing her to steady her trembling body. “You don’t have to do this alone. You won’t do this alone,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. It absolutely killed him to see Y/N hurt like this, and as her ‘best friend’, he would do anything to take away the hurt. Even if that meant fathering a child that wasn’t even his.

He was there for every bit of the next  months; from doctor’s appointments, cravings, hormones, and horniness. Y/N marveled at how he stepped in to take care of her and her child. His support and kindness erased every thought of Jonathan and how he got off easy. The hatred and bitterness she had towards her ex soon evaporated as an even more worthy father figure stepped into her child’s life.

Y/N and Sam finally had the relationship they had both wanted for so long. Finally the timing seemed right, and finally they were both in the same place in both their lives. Baby or not, Y/N and Sam both fell into an easy relationship. Who knew it would be an unplanned pregnancy that would bring them together?

Several years down the road, Y/N and Sam found themselves taking their son to his favorite park one summer evening.

“Daddy!” Ryan screeched.

Sam smiled as he watched his rambunctious “son” sprint to the tall slide on the playground. Tonight his heart was full and warm as he spent time with his family. He hadn’t felt this good in a while, but who was he to question the good mood. He jogged just a couple steps to catch up with Y/N as she carried the blanket to the stretch of grass just next to the playground. As soon as he reached her side, he grabbed her hand. Her hand was cold, making his heart slightly jump. She always used to be so warm. Since when was her skin so cold?

Y/N’s heart leapt into her throat as she felt Sam’s massive hand wind with hers. She was shocked to say the least. It had been so long since Sam had shown her any physical affection; the simple gesture of holding hands seemed taboo. Almost too intimate.

In an instant she felt the love she knew he had for her. She reveled in the spark he always seemed to send through her. As soon as his fingers entangled with hers, her body reacted. She squeezed his hand gently, walking the rest of the way to their usual spot on the grass.

Y/N and Sam watched as Ryan kept himself busy on the various pieces of play equipment. He was strong like Sam, and as Sam liked to point out, loud like Y/N.

The evening wore on, the sun eventually setting. Ryan was too caught up in his game of make believe to leave the monkey bars to join his parents on the blanket.

Eventually Sam laid back, pulling Y/N down with him. She giggled as his arms easily wrapped around her pulling her close. “Mm. Nice night, huh?” he lazily commented, gazing up at the stars.

Y/N nodded into his shirt, absorbing every bit of him. It had been so long since he felt so close to him. She missed him so much. She missed her best friend.

“Wow!” he exclaimed, raising his arm to point. “Look at that moon!”

Y/N reluctantly turned her head to look into the sky. “Full Moon,” she murmured, turning her head back into his shirt.

“You know what that means?” he asked. “The weirdos are out.” he added with a chuckle.

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle too as his laugh shook in his chest, sending vibrations through her. “That means us, Sam. We’re the weirdos.” she kidded.

Just then a breeze picked up around them, sending goosebumps all over her exposed skin. As if the wind carried the lightness away from the moment, a new heaviness fell over the couple.

“Ya know, Sam,” Y/N started keeping her voice low so it wouldn’t carry over to Ryan, “no matter what, as long as we’re both happy, I’m okay with that.”

Her statement was simple, and he knew exactly what she meant. Although on the surface everything seemed so peachy keen, soon things began to fray at the edges. Both Y/N and Sam saw the forming tension, but both opted to say nothing, not wanting to rock the boat.

“As long as we’re under the same moon…” he agreed adding to her declaration.

Y/N smiled despite her heart falling into her stomach. The two remained tight in each other’s embrace for several more minutes before Ryan interrupted them saying he was ready to go home.

The next couple years seemed to drag as it was filled with more tension, tears, and fights than happy feelings. It all grew to be too much. The relationship they had, finally came to a head one night after Sam got back with Dean after a long “business trip” to take care of a couple skin walkers.

It seemed to play out in slow motion as they fought and argued. Dean knew the warning signs and acted before it was too late; taking Ryan out for ice cream.

“I can’t do this anymore, Sam,” Y/N confessed as the tears stained her cheeks. She began moving around the room gathering her things into a large duffle.

Once he realized what she was doing he grabbed her wrist stopping her, and pulling her attention to him. “Y/N, what are you doing?” he asked, his heart seeming to stop.

“I’m taking Ryan and were leaving. I can’t do this any more. The fighting, the arguing. It’s too much and I don’t want Ryan around it any more,” she choked, pulling from his grasp to continue packing.

He struggled to find words as she zoomed around the room scooping up a toy here, and a shirt there. “You can’t,” he sputtered.

Y/N stopped in her tracks, and slowly turned to face him, finally meeting his eyeline. Her heart shattering even more as she looked at the hurt reflected in his glossed over eyes. “Sam, yes I can,” she began softly, “we can’t keep lying to each other. We’ve been so set on staying together because ‘it’s what was right’.” She moved forward, closing the space between them. She cautiously lifted her arms to rest on his shoulder, and when he didn’t move away, she moved even further into him. Automatically his hands moved to hold her hips as he looked down into her eyes.

“I know you only stepped up to the plate because you were protecting me. You did it because you thought it was the right thing to do,” she rushed the words out, knowing he would argue. On cue he opened his mouth to rebut, but she stopped him by pulling him closer as she encircled her arms around him. She squeezed and once she knew she could continue, she pulled away. “Sam, I will never be able to thank you for what you’ve done for Ryan and I. Truth be told-” a new sob surfaced, but she was quick to regain her composure. “Truth be told, Sam, you will always be Ryan’s father.”

At the mention of Y/N’s son, a welcome smiled appeared on his lips. There was no denying Sam loved Ryan. Y/N was right, Ryan was and always will be Sam’s son and Dean’s nephew.

“But Sam, we need to leave. This isn’t going to work for any of us. It was doomed from the start.”

Sam could swear he could hear his heart begins to shatter as Y/N spoke.

“I love you, Sam. You’re my best friend and my hero. But I think it’s best for all of us, if Ryan and I left,” she said with a sad smile. “I think it would be wise to part ways. Permanently,” she whispered. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see his reaction. She was surprised when he heaved a sigh, and then pulled her back into his chest.“

I think you’re right. Ry doesn’t need the fighting and the arguing. I especially don’t want him around the hunting life. Take him away from here, Y/N.” He hated himself for saying it, but he knew it was the truth. Finally the tears spilled over his lids, streaking down his face. “As much as it kills me to let you go, Y/N, it’s what’s best,” he choked as he now began to sob.

Y/N held him close as she stood a bit taller. Although she was dying on the inside, she needed to be strong for Sam and for Ryan.

In no time, Y/N had her and her son’s possessions packed, and was loading her car. Dean watched wordlessly as Sam scooped a sleeping Ryan from the Impala, turning to place him in Y/N’s car. Y/N wanted with everything to scream and let the tears flow as she watched Sam kiss Ryan goodbye. He whispered into his hair as a new sob shook him, sending a tear falling unto his son’s head. Y/N turned and simply kissed Dean’s cheek as he looked at Y/N for some sort of explanation as to what the hell was happening.

With Ryan’s door shut, Y/N looked at her best friend one last time. She nodded her head, and reached for the door handle. In the blink of an eyes, Sam had her spun around, and back crushed against his chest. He barely held it together as he kissed the top of her head and let her go once and for all. Not looking into Y/N’s eyes, he reached behind her and opened the door. She slowly got in, looking at him, searching for his gaze. It took a moment, but finally he looked into her eyes and she was surprised when she was met with a smile.

“We’ll always have the moon, right?” he chuckled darkly. It took just a split second before her to catch on, but once she got it a smile spread on her lips.

She sniffed, nodding. “Yes, definitely. Always.”

He eventually shut the door and stepped away from the car. Sam and Dean watched as Y/N sped off to start a new life. Without them.

“Sam!?” Dean called, shaking Sam from his haze. It had been God knows how long since that night, but he could still remember it so vividly. Sometimes his imagination took a wild turn when he started to wonder if Y/N and Ryan even remembered him.

“You okay?” Dean prodded when he was able to get his brother’s attention but was only met with his silence.

Sam simply nodded as he set his sights back out the car window. He watched the blurred scenery whizz by as brother barreled down the lone desert highway. Suddenly from behind the mountain, the bright glowing moon made an appearance. At the sight of it, Sam’s heart sped up and smile crept on his face.

The moon.

“Bright moon tonight,” Sam commented.

Dean bent to look at the orb in the sky and shrugged at its normalcy.

The moon was all Sam needed. It was all the reassurance he needed, knowing that as long as the moon was in the sky, Y/N and his son were okay.