#sam taylor/reader

[stardust4ver]

[pinkiebieberpie]

i like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings ୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮

supernatural masterlist

[katiapostsss]

𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 . . anakin skywalker

🎬//

teaser:

BUT I JUST MISS YOU,

AND I JUST WISH YOU

WEREEE A BETTER MAN...

ᶜ ʰ ᵃ ʳ ᵃ ᶜ ᵗ ᵉ ʳ ˢ : modern! anakin x fem! reader

warnings! :

swearing ,, angst

SUMMARY: the last person you expect at your door is your unofficial ex boyfriend of 3 months, in need of a favor... in need of a date.

based off this request (hope you like it ❤️)

〰️

the microwaved mac and cheese, laying pulled apart on your plate, was left completely uneaten. you weren't necessarily hungry, and you knew it even while making it, too. but maybe you did so just to grasp onto the semblance of a routine you still had. the incandescent, dim glow of your overhead light normally cast your small, cramped dining room into somewhat of a cozy aroma, but now, it brought shadows of hollowness along with it, much like your empty stomach.

watching the metal of your fork dig lazily into the small noodles, you leaned back in your chair, free hand on your thigh, and heaved an elongated and heavy exhale. your pinned up hair might've been collecting dust considering how long you had been sitting there, staring. night was slowly luring your town into its cave and pinching the wick of its candle until the flame kneeled and gave up.

biting your lip, you finally stood, pushing the chair from your legs, grabbing your mac and cheese and fork and walking the short distance to your kitchen. you emptied the contents of your plate into the pullout trashcan and turned on the sink, giving the water a moment to heat up before running the glass and metal beneath. when your house murmured with the shrill tune of the doorbell, you nearly rolled your eyes in disgruntlement, then straightened in confusion. who on earth was at your door on a random tuesday at 7 pm? setting the plate and fork onto the bottom of the sink, you shut off the water and shook your hands semi-dry, walking the hallway to your front door.

you patted your palms onto your jeans before you unlocked the entrance, turned the knob, and pulled the wood open. remembrance in a coat stood on the other side. almost immediately, your heart seized in your chest, the weight of memory hitting you in the all the wrong places. him. him. sweat collected in your palms, and a feeling of slight horror followed behind the shock. what was he doing here? what was your unofficial ex boyfriend doing here? when was the last time you even saw him? how many months ago was it that you had given up and packed your bags, leaving his empty house without so much as a goodbye. thinking so foolishly that maybe, if you fled, he'd chase after you. he'd care again. but no. you hadn't talked since. you didn't need to. prior to your undeclared breakup, there had been so much incessant fighting, that he must've known it was over the second he came back to his completely vacant house. no closure was needed, either. he didn't go after you, even if you wanted him to. that was that.

and yet, there he was. standing in front of you. staring. it was quiet a moment. he looked more shocked that he was there than you were. in fact, you didn't look shocked at all. your face was void of any emotion. the only giveaway that you were surprised was the slight raise of your eyebrows. and he... he was just as you recalled him to be. dark, blue eyes, framed by long lashes and low-set brows. soft curls that fell in waves over his forehead. the face you recalled late in the night. in your dreams. when you'd wondered why you had left in the first place, when you considered so thoroughly, just going back. going back to him. even if it meant the first thing you'd be doing in his vicinity would be screaming.

rain pattered on the roof. he did look a bit damp. "y/n," were the first words spoken in 3 months. it wasn't a question. and it certainly wasn't said in that desperate, breathy tone the men in movies laced into their words, proof that they'd spent hours dreaming of the holding of a hand or a kiss on the cheek. it was a statement.

"anakin," was your first response back. his name on your tongue seemed to snap the sense back into him. he shifted on his feet for the first time since you'd opened the door, and finally, anakin seemed to register just what was happening. you pursed your lips, gripping the knob until your knuckles turned white. "why— why are you here, anakin." not a question, either.

"i need—" his chest stuttered, "—a favor."

---

"no." your eighth word to anakin. no. what a powerful word. a simple, one syllable, two letter word that had the power to completely rip apart a whole spiel of pleas, a paragraph or two of asking. by saying just that one word, you killed a whole night's worth of planning and courage-building. but you weren't thinking much about that fact, then. no.

anakin stared incredulously at you. because he was definitely feeling the weight and wrath of that one word. he felt it like a nuisance. it was the silence that followed and the look of vacancy on your face. finally, he inhaled through his mouth, looked away. an annoyed expression enveloped his face, which was honestly laughable. "look—"

"no." 9th word. next, just to rub salt in the wound you'd formed with that one word, you bit out a humorless, horrible laugh, shaking your head and looking away. you didn't even know why you'd let your unofficial ex boyfriend into your house, sat him down at the table, and let him explain this "favor" of his. "you should leave, anakin. please."

his face hardened, shifting with your movements as you stood, expecting him to follow after. he did indeed, but stopped in front of you instead. "if this is about what happened—"

"i don't want to talk about what happened. ever. i thought you got the memo." rubbing a hand over your brows, you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head again.

"okay, fine. i won't bring it up. not once. after it's over, in fact, i'll leave you alone and never talk to you again, because that's what you want, right?"

it was mockery. anakin was mocking you. you stopped shifting, looking up at him with your mouth slightly agape and your eyes boring into his as if he was just joking. "y'know, you have some real nerve, coming to my house and expecting me to accommodate to your needs—which are some really stupid fucking needs—even after what happened. some real nerve. get out, anaki—!"

"i know! i know i do!" his hands flew out at either side of him, hovering, and thick brows knitted together, casting his face into madness. he was mad. he had the audacity to be mad. you were reminded again of why you left in the first place. you couldn't go 30 minutes without bickering. "do you think i'd be here if this situation wasn't drastic?! my mother will stab me in the eye if i show up to this dinner without you. literally stab me—!"

"your problems stopped being mine 3 fucking months ago. get out, anakin, or do i have to start screaming bloody murder until my neighbors call the cops?"

he shifted on his feet in that way that angry mothers did in movies, as if unbelieving of what was happening. even though he had brought it upon himself. "i know you hate me, y/n, for... for— what happened. and i know you blame me too. i understand it, but i have reason to hate you just as much. you might despise me, and i might despise you, but you need to understand just how important this is to beru. to my family. so can we please just— just..." the anger in his eyes shifted. so did something in your chest.

"i do. and i'm telling you no." you turned on your heel, walking down the hallway, opening the front door, and motioning him outside. he still stood at that spot in your kitchen. you inhaled deeply, your chest rising. "i don't care about you or your shit anymore, okay? i stopped fucking caring because you didn't fucking care. get out." he did not budge. groaning, you abandoned the door and walked back down, leaving it open. "you're still as egotistical as you were 3 months ago."

"and you're still as stubborn as you were 3 months ago."

"you're the one who refuses to get out of a woman's house."

"fine, you hold grudges just the same as you did 3 months ago."

"text me the fucking information and get out!" you snapped, and he didn't so much as flinch. because anakin knew what he was doing, wearing you down until you gave way.

relief washed over his face. you wanted to rip it clean off. what you didn't want was to give him the satisfaction. maybe it was petty. not maybe. it really was. standing here, in the same room as him, was like torture all over again. it brought back memories of days you thought you'd buried. but at the same time, what happened happened, and you couldn't make it go away by making him the villain. he was right. you hated to admit it, but it wasn't solely his fault after all. maybe it was meant to happen. and plus, how many times had he saved your ass when you asked for it? you owed it to him. you owed it all. so why was it so hard to say yes? cause you liked knowing he was desperate and you liked the way it felt, to turn down a desperate man just because of a past that was not solely his fault?

"maybe not as stubb—" you raised a hand as if to hit him and it was what sent him into a quick thank you and departure.

---

and so, because you blurted a hasty and angered approval with little to no actual thought behind your words, you sat at your small vanity and pinned your hair into an updo a week later, on an airy, wednesday afternoon. much too pretty an afternoon to be worrying over things like celebratory dinners. you didn’t even want to think of what would happen in the following hours, surrounded by a family you still knew every fault and strength of. next to a man you, of course, still loved. you also didn’t want to think about what you’d have to do to keep up this… act of dating with him in front of his sister and parents. there were too many things you didn’t want to think about.

the skin of your neck still whined about the burn you had acquired trying to curl your hair, which you were embarrassingly horrible at despite being good at styling hair otherwise. already you were annoyed and none of the actually annoying parts of the night had commenced yet. you'd given yourself an hour to get ready and with the curling iron incident and the trouble to pick out an outfit, you were just barely on time when you rushed out the door and drove off.

"thanks for showing up," were anakin's first words, leaned against the wall a few feet off from the entrance of the restaurant. but it wasn't a thank you. it was sarcasm. he stifled the butt of the cigarette between his fingers on the brick beside him and flicked it to the ground.

"you're welcome, and also very lucky," came your reply, gripping your black leather handbag in front of you and nervously looking around. even in your navy blue, satin gown, you felt poorly dressed. it was the best part of town and the restaurant not 3 feet from where you stood had only received good word and input.

"oh, yes. you've absolutely graced me with your presence." anakin pulled a hand from the bag and lifted it to his mouth, but you lightly—unfortunately—swatted at his face before he could kiss it.

"i'm actually hoping to un-grace you as soon as possible. let's get on with it, please and thank you." your eyes flew to the opening door, and the extravagantly-dressed couple that walked out laughing together, hand in hand, the sound of soft jazz and chattering words stumbling out after them. rich patchouli rode the air, and you breathed a handful of it in.

when you looked back, a bit confused as to why anakin hadn't answered with his own, snarky remark, you almost immediately got your answer. he was staring at the mark on your neck. fuck. you forgot to cover up the burn. his eyes were driven over with starkness, looking almost black instead of their usual blue. "curling iron." your free hand insecurely prodded at the burn, eliciting a sharp wince from your throat. "and stop staring at me, you creep. get on with it." your fingers fell and instead motioned to the door, telling him to lead the way in silence. anakin snapped out of whatever spiral he fell into and cleared his throat.

he turned fast enough to miss the prickle of redness that coated your cheeks.

---

the dinner went as expected.

beru's stomach bulged from under her overcoat, and she touched it almost every second. her eyes wore the tired and worn stare of a soon-to-be mother, and yet, she seemed ecstatic. you could tell she had not acquired much rest, and the same went for her boyfriend, owen. you'd met him maybe once or twice, and he seemed worthy enough of your almost-sister, though, in truth, you felt no one was worthy enough.

shmi was as she was three months ago. her hands still held their gentleness and her smile was just as soft and delicate. cliegg was no different, either. no one was different, in fact. so similar you felt you'd completely dreamt your breakup with anakin, that this was just another day, in love with him.

it appeared not.

"so, how are you two?" forks clanked against plates. bubbles of champagne popped and crackled in their cardigan of glass. your steak scraped your throat as you swallowed and met your unwelcoming stomach, your appetite gone. depleting further when the question was asked. "it's been so long since we last had a dinner like this." shmi's supple fingers rested atop cliegg's arm, her expression lightening as she looked to her husband and back to you. the two of you.

"it's been a long time in general," beru chimed. anakin leaned back from his plate, clearing his throat.

"yes. it has," he agreed. you straightened, pushing back your shoulders and nodding once.

"we've—" you looked to him for a second, the tender glance of a lover, as if you couldn't keep your eyes off of him for one moment. when he faked a smile, you did too. "we've been good. all the same, in the least."

shmi nodded her head, and beside her, cliegg leaned over the table, both arms on either side of his plate. "you talked about that orchestra last time we met, did you not?" the woman asked, cocking her head. "how's that going for you?"

"oh, it's all good." you never tried out.

"you'll get in," beru reassured.

"i'm sure she will." anakin reclined forward, meeting your eyes and smiling softly. you resisted the urge to scowl, resisted the urge to run away screaming, and in your haste, responded stupidly.

"don't jinx it." to your fortune, shmi laughed, and then beru, and then, everyone else.

"and anakin doesn't bother you too much, yes?" cliegg chimed in, eyes on yours. you shrugged, conjuring up an actually-thought-through answer.

"i'm still here, right?" more laughter. you chuckled yourself, delicately taking your champagne glass from the table and closing your still-smiling lips around the rim. you smiled as the bubbles clambered and fought for space in your mouth, and you smiled as they did the same all the way down your throat, the tangy citrus tasting more of poison on your tongue.

when you leaned back in your chair, you slyly spoke to the man beside you, "ice cream."

he looked to you then, confused, and you rolled your eyes, exhaling sharply. "my favor. you owe me ice cream. i don't know when, but you owe me ice cream."

anakin grinned then, and it made your empty stomach twist. "i thought you'd ask for a second life or my soul. maybe a genie lamp, knowing you. something undoable."

"lets not forget that i have the power to tell your whole family that your pathetic ass turned up at my door after we broke up 3 months ago, asking me to fake date you. i would watch your tone if i were you. something undoable." he shut his mouth, and your pride was short-lived upon realizing beru was staring strangely at you. quickly, you turned and captured his lips with your own. just a peck. you made sure to smile when you pulled away, and pinched him when the only thing on his face was surprise.

"nice going dumbass. you're blowing our cover," you said through a tender smile.

"since when have you cared about covers," he countered through his own.

"since ice cream was on the line."

---

soon, it became all unbearable.

anakin's presence beside you was the log in your throat and the death that loitered too often. everywhere. it was worse that you had to kiss him and hug him and love him like nothing but happiness was what your relationship was built off of. his lips were the nausea in your stomach and the worry in your brow, each bite of your steak like consuming toxin and tightening the noose around your throat further. you'd lost your appetite just by breathing his air.

"s'cuse me." you turned to him, lightly touching his arm and pulling him from his conversing, though you left before you could see the curiosity that combed through his blue eyes.

your time in the bathroom was spent fanning yourself off—it was, for whatever reason, sweltering hot in the restaurant—and staring at your reflection in the mirror. not to any surprise, even the bathroom was extremely expensive-looking, yet no one but a few, equally expensive-looking woman sauntered in and out while you were there. you earned looks, of course, but you also didn't care much. you needed a break and a cigarette horribly.

you were maybe 6 minutes into your isolation when the door opened and heels clicked. leaned over the sink, you watched the entrance and the woman step in through the mirror, but she was not just any woman.

"y/n?" beru's curious eyes met yours, and she quickly walked fully in and let the door close shut by itself behind her. you straightened, turning and clearing your throat.

"beru, hi," you breathed out. she cocked her head, brows pinning together.

"everyone's wondering where you are. you've been in here the whole time?"

"yea, sorry. just... period cramps." your eyes followed her stout figure as she knowingly nodded and reached into her purse, rummaging through the contents.

"i think i might have so advil in here," she mumbled more to herself than to you. "i never leave the house without it. y'know how it is." quickly, you paced the distance between you and her and rested a hand on her searching arm, stopping her. beru's gaze strayed to yours, having to crane her neck a bit, and she gave you a confused look.

"no, that's fine. i dont— i'm fine." more skepticism than confusion now. she eyed you down for a moment before retreating her hands and resting them beside her.

"alright..." a moment of staring. you awkwardly rubbed your hands down your lap, turning and pretending to fix a loose strand of hair in the mirror. silence passed. finally, her hand on your shoulder. you looked to her in the mirror, her gaze fixated on your reflection.

"are you okay?" it caught you off guard.

"yea— of course. why— why do you... uh— ask?" you sputtered, squirming.

beru pursed her lips, looking straight into your eyes in a way that made your body alert. "i don't know. there's tension, i've noticed." she stared a moment longer before walking to the sink beside you and leaning into the glass, fixing her makeup. "i thought you guys would be the next, y'know." her eyes flickered to her stomach. you gulped. "i guess... you know he loves you, right? i can tell." your stomach twisted, something you wished so badly wasn't tears pricking your eyes. the words hurt more than anything, because they made you think. they plunged you into that feeling, actually, forced thoughts you had worked to leave behind right back into your mind, erasing all those nights you turned away from that turmoil.

"if you need to talk, i'm always free." she turned her head to you, then walked over, squeezing your arm. you opened your mouth, searching for words you knew you wouldn't turn up with. "you're my friend. my sister. it doesn't matter if you aren't yet. you know i love you. you know everyone in that room loves you. but i've never seen someone love as much as anakin does you. it's something i can't fathom. sometimes, i think he might not deserve you, but then i see the way he looks at you. with hope. with emotions i thought could only be grasped in books and plays. he does love you, in case you ever doubt it."

those same tears threatened to slip down your cheeks as she leaned in and kissed your cheek. you thought. you thought so much, so distantly. so distantly you did not bother anakin the rest of the dinner. so distantly you almost forgot to say goodbye to shmi and cliegg. so distantly no one questioned it.

---

"fuck!" your shoulders slumped inward, every single emotion physically leaving your body except for lingering anger, which intensified and intensified and intensified. it quickly switched into worry.

the streets were not empty, of course. you could call an uber, but then you'd have to sit out here for a while, where it was cold and brisk and much too unwelcoming. you cursed towing companies and their stupidity, and cursed yourself for being late and not noticing you'd parked in a restricted area of the street. no car. no way home.

you turned away, surveying the roads across and exhaling deeply. "damn it. fuck. of course this happens to me." and so began the long walk back down to the restaurant, in hopes you'd find a taxi there, where it was much more populated. soon, your feet were throbbing in your heels and your handbag might as well have weighed 100 pounds.

"just a bit more," you spoke to no one but yourself and the loitering darkness, whispering and murmuring all around you. "a little longer—" headlights. a car turned on the road and clambered up the street, and was that... anakin. you stopped, and it stopped, and the engines noisily protested, but still, he rolled the window down and gave you a curious look.

"my car got towed," you explained, borderline panting. anakin raised his brows, and you half expected easy quips and a car driving off, but no.

"get in."

you paused, wondering if what had come out of his mouth had actually come out of his mouth. just to be snarky, you looked around a moment, then back at him, pointing to yourself. "a— are you talking to me— or do you do just casually drive up to women on the road and tell them to get in your car every night?"

"the latter. get in." rolling your eyes, you near-stomped up to the car and opened the door, slinking into the familiar seats. the smell of pine and rich bark filled your nose, and it brought back memories of so many things, that the scent seemed more foul than sweet.

"how unoriginal," you nodded to the tree-like car refresher hanging from the rearview mirror that was the whole reason it smelled this way.

"really, 'cause i remember you picking this out for me. said something along the lines of, 'now your car will smell good'."

you shut your mouth and looked out the window as he hit the pedal and started driving away from the street. in fact, you shut your mouth the whole ride to what you assumed was your house—unless he was planning to axe murder you, of course—and only opened it when you actually thought he was planning to. instead of keeping straight, he turned onto your town's main road and started through the many shops and stores.

"this is not the way dumbass."

"you think i forgot? it's only been three months. and you never told me to bring you home," anakin countered, looking to you for a second before focusing back on the road.

"well i doubt you're any good at kidnapping, so where are you bringing me?" you studied the lines of his face, the way the shadows carved his cheeks and jaw and the stop lights brightened his eyes. your stomach twisted, and beru's words came rushing back. you wondered if you still looked at him in that way. hopefully. lovingly. stupidly.

"ice cream, dumbass.'

"i don't want ice cream anymore, dumbass."

"well too bad, 'cause i want it, dumbass."

---

"get me a—"

"i know!"

---

despite your earlier claims, you devoured your chocolate ice cream like it was the last thing you'd ever eat on earth, unknowing of just how hungry you were now that you didn't have any food to eat. the rich delicacy coated your tongue and bit into your throat, chilled and soft and so so lovely. you held anakin's pecan ice cream in your other hand as you walked out the small yet cozy shop and opened the car door—not without a struggle—slinking inside. you were a bit damp, as it was slightly drizzling out, but the rain was not what you cared for.

"how'd you remember my order?" anakin asked indifferently, his voice laced with easiness as you handed him the cup between your rapid licks.

"it's only been three months," you quoted him in a mocking tone, but was too fixated on the sweet treat in your hands to catch the look of annoyance he gave you. "shit. i don't think i don't even remember the last time i had ice cream. i forgot how good—" a lick, "—it is."

anakin chuckled. "it's not gonna run away. slow down."

"dessert waits for no one," you countered in a smart-ass tone, finally pausing to look his way. he stared incredulously at you, his lips parting and even more laughter gracing your ears and filling the chocolate-and-pecan tainted air. "what?" you pursed your lips, and his fingers came to his own, pointing.

"you uh—" laughter, "have something... everywhere."

"yea, thanks for the details, jackass. have something where," you mused with a slight smile.

anakin only laughed, trailing his mouth with his finger and watching you wipe at your face.

"there. is it gone?" you found yourself speaking in between your giggles.

"ice cream can never be that good," he teased, watching you finally pull down the mirror and inspect your lips. you gawked. it was everywhere. truly. even on your nose.

"yea, you're a great help, anakin."

"anakin?" he cocked his head, and you briefly looked to him, raising a brow. "i don't think i've heard you call me that yet. dickswab, yes, maybe shit-face."

"i hate you," you laughed, shaking your head and turning back to the mirror. "and if you don't eat that soon, i will." you gestured to the pecan ice cream in his hand that you'd only seen him manage two spoons of in your chocolate frenzy.

his eyes trailed your figure as you wiped and wiped and wiped, that perfect smile seemingly stuck to his lips. how long had it been since you last saw it, anyways? too long, you decided, as you turned and pushed away the mirror, meeting those stupidly blue irises with your own. yes. much too long.

"and you're the one who said you didn't want any," he quipped one last time before taking the spoon and digging it in, coming up with pecan-littered smoothness. his lips wrapped around the plastic, and your smile died as you watched him. silence fell. you stared and stared for what seemed like hours. "you're drooling."

"over the ice cream, duh," came your half-thought reply. but ice cream was a long-forgotten thing. he chuckled, eyes straying from the bowl, to your own. you gulped. again, quiet. it fell so easily. too easily. too calmly. but silence wasn't calm at all. it was s wild, unruly thing, and you could feel its chaos leeching the worry from you. feel it everywhere. the way he looked at you. hopefully. like in the books. beru's words came rushing back to you, and suddenly, the silence was not a good thing. it was horrible. it was death. you swallowed down thickness and lingering chocolate, your heart twisting in your chest as you thought back on what she said, and turned away.

"i— i'm tired." the mood immediately changed. "can you just bring me home now?"

his throat bobbed. "sure.." anakin must've felt the shift too, too, because a moment's stare at you longer and he was dropping the bowl into the cup holder and turning on the car, backing out and away from whatever had conspired in that moment.

as the stores hid behind the bend he turned on to your house, the unease that gripped your throat morphed into something bigger. something greater. anger. he had let you leave. no person who loved you as much as beru said he did would just let you leave without a fight. why hadn't he fought, anyways? he didn't love you. maybe at some point, but not nearing the end of your relationship. and maybe you were the one that left in the end, but it was never because you wanted to. it was because you wanted him. you wanted him back. you thought maybe, if you left, he'd see the impact you had on his life. he'd leave his differences behind, just to get you back. you thought he'd change. how stupid. how ironic. you almost laughed at it, too. because he would never. the whole reason you fought was because of his tendency to push you away. to isolate himself. to torture his mind with his thoughts. it drove you crazy, and it was what led to your relationships' demise.

"are you okay?"

"yea." you shrugged, staring out the window and tucking your hands between your closed thighs. but your tone was harsh and rude. he knew something was up, and to his credit, didn't question any further.

when, finally, he pulled into your driveway, tears were pricking your eyes. ones of anger, firstly, but sorrow for what could've been secondly.

"i'll walk you to your door," anakin offered as you unbuckled your seatbelt, doing the same.

"it's fine," was your only reply as you harshly opened the door and stepped out, squeezing your handbag like a lifeline. rain pattered against your skin, but you didn't seem to care. not as your hair soaked through and your dress clung to your body. you roughly shut it behind you and started walking the length up to your entrance, heels clicking on the concrete, when the loud thud of his own door shutting sounded beside you. you ignored him, even as his footsteps drew nearer underneath the sound of the rain.

"can you hold on for one moment?" anakin's voice called, then, his hand on your arm. you shoved him off of you, not even looking him in the eye.

"leave me alone." water slid down your face, and you were glad for it. glad the tears streaking your cheeks looked more like the precipitation than your feelings unraveled.

"what is your problem?!" he hissed, hair clinging to his forehead and liquid dripping off his lashes. "what did i even do?!" a demand.

you stopped, whirled around, and conjured up the nastiest look known to man on your face. "not what you did, anakin. what you did was hurt me, what you did was shut me out, what you did was pretend your own damn girlfriend didn't exist. but maybe that would've been excusable. it's what you didn't fucking do."

he shut his mouth, shriveled. you hadn't talked about it, and right now, you were. it was like an unspoken rule. don't speak of the breakup. but now... he stared into your hurt eyes.

"what you didn't fucking do, was go after me. how can you say that you love me, and then let me leave you?! do you think i wanted to go in the first place?! do you think for one second that i'd just leave you like that because of some stupid fucking fights?!" you cried over the rain. your sobbing was evident now. the rise and fall of your chest, the plea in your voice, hidden by anger, your face, twisted in frustration and pain. "answer me, anakin!" you hit his chest, and hit it again, your bag falling to the ground. "do you think for one fucking second, that i meant it when i said i hated you?! do you think i would just abandon you after 3 years of loving you because you turned away?! you selfish bastard!" you hit, and hit, and hit, and still, he did not budge. it infuriated you more.

your fists collided with his chest over and over again, and anakin just stared down at you, his face crumbling but still upright. you wanted it to fall. so badly. "you broke me! you fucked me up, asshole. i thought you'd go after me, i thought you'd care again, and you didn't! you didn't give two shits. and i don't hate you, but i hate you for what you didn't do for me. i hate you for not fighting, and i hate you for thinking that i wouldn't fight!" with each punch, you became slower. your arms became heavier. rain claimed you in its grasp, but you didn't care.

"say something, anakin," you begged, sobbing and stopping your fighting altogether. you stumbled back and your arms circled around your middle. he did not answer your plea. did not say anything at all. just studied you. finally, you bent and grabbed your slippery bag in your hands, staring at him a moment more and willing him to speak, before turning, heart heavy, to your door.

your hand was on the knob when his voice sounded. "i wanted you to leave." you bristled, and everything within you stopped. sadness, and then... "because i did not deserve you, and it hurt to know. it hurt to watch you linger around me, when i knew you could've done much greater things with your life. it hurt to know i was the one holding you back, that it was my fault you were in such pain. i couldn't... i couldn't handle it. i couldn't handle knowing you deserved a better man. someone who would hold you but not hold you back, someone who would care but not be overly careful. i was hurting you, and it hurt me. i wanted you to leave, not because i didn't want you, but because i knew you shouldn't have wanted me."

the words struck you like a bullet to the chest. your back was still to him, but your surprise was evident in the way your shoulders tensed, just as your heart did beneath the safety of your ribs. you stared at a crack in the wood and thought. the tears stopped, but rain still pattered across your face.

"and i know it is selfish. i know i'm a selfish bastard for hurting you in the way i did and deeming it for your own good, but it was killing me, too. loving you was killing me, because i loved you too much, but i knew no matter how much i did, i'd never deserve your love in return. and i should've told you, and i'm so sorry that i didn't, y/n, and i'm so sorry that i hurt you like this, and i know it's too late—"

"it's only been three months," you quoted. he had not noticed you turn around, looking so intently at anything but you, but now, his eyes were fixed on yours, and you were staring, and he was staring. and for a moment or two, rain was the only sound, his blue eyes were the only sight, and an eternity and a half later, he was kissing you.

back against the door, soaked hands in soaked hair, and the taste of weather on his lips. it was a kiss for three months lost, and it was everything. soft, then fervent, fervent, then soft, as if to make up for time long gone, and it really did. you felt every inch of him part against every part of you, and pressing, and pressing, and pressing. when you parted, you pulled a few inches away from him.

"there is no better man. there's only you, anakin." you whispered. "you're selfish and stupid, but only because you can't realize that. you can't not deserve someone who loves you, because it doesn't make sense. they chose you, so obviously you're worthy. and i hate you for not telling me, too, but i hate a lot of things." you shrugged. "so.. it's okay. i forgive you, and... i guess i'm sorry for hitting you... or whatever, but you deserved it for being stupid."

he laughed, and with red eyes you now knew were from crying, stared back into yours. "i hate you too, and i guess i'm sorry for not realizing it sooner." anakin's head cocked to one side, inspecting your wide smile. "and i see why you like the chocolate. it tastes good." he tasted it the rest of the night.

.

RED = TAYLOR REFERENCE AND I'LL BE PUTTING THEM IN ALL MY WORKS FROM NOW ON 🤭🤭

thanks for reading!! ik its a bit lengthy but i was grinding the shit out of this fic soooo

anyways, hope requester liked it! requests are always open ❤️❤️

@blairwaldrfsworld

[xspeter]

𝑭𝑶𝑳𝑲𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑬 (𝒌𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏)

𝑨 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝑻𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒐𝒓 𝑺𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒃𝒖𝒎, “𝑭𝒐𝒍𝒌𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒆“. 𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑚！𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑢𝑛𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑖𝑠𝑒！

𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓; 𝑻𝒉𝒆 1: 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞, 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓; 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒏: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞 (𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐡𝐞) 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐉.

𝑫𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑺𝒂𝒍𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒆; 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝑮𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝑨𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝑫𝒚𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒚: 𝒀𝒐𝒖’𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑫𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒐𝒓 100 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆, 𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒐𝒏; 𝑬𝒙𝒊𝒍𝒆: 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑨𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒏; 𝑴𝒚 𝑻𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝑹𝒊𝒄𝒐𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒕: 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐨 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐲.

𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒐𝒏; 𝑴𝒊𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐇𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠.

𝑺𝒂𝒎 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓; 𝑺𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝑺𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒌𝒊; 𝑨𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒔𝒕: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐲𝐝𝐢𝐚.

𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓; 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒆 𝑻𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈: (𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐮, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐰𝐡) 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞.

𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓; 𝑰𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒕 𝑨𝒇𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒔: 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐭.

𝑱𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓; 𝑰𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒚 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒌𝒆; 𝑴𝒂𝒅 𝑾𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏: 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝.

𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓; 𝑬𝒑𝒊𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒚: 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐭��� 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲.

𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚; 𝑺𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒌𝒊: 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤.

𝑱𝑱 𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒌; 𝑷𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒆: 𝐉𝐉 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒐𝒏; 𝑯𝒐𝒂𝒙: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨, 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭?

𝑺𝒂𝒎 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓; 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔: 𝐈𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Midnight Rain

“I broke his heart because he was nice. He was Sunshine, I was Midnight Rain…”

Request from ao3- "ok but imagine a grumpy/sunshine fic with sam but the reader is the grumpy one 🤷" For one of my fave readers, @/badasswithafatass I hope you enjoy! 💛

Pairing - Sam Wilson x Reader Sam Wilson Masterlist | Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration

“You know, for a smart guy, you’re pretty fucking dense," Bucky mutters, taking another swig of his beer.

“Aw… you think I’m smart?” Sam sarcastically awes from the bar stool beside Bucky.

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head, “Do you honestly think she had any real interest in me?”

Bucky doesn't miss the tick in Sam's jaw at the mention of you. Months had passed since the last time Sam saw you, and he wasn’t too keen on remembering that dreaded last night. Just the memory of you leaning over the bar counter, hand resting on Bucky’s chest, whispering something in Bucky's ear, was enough to make Sam's stomach twist into a knot.

Even before that night, he could tell that you were pulling away from him, but there it was, that night, the final nail in the coffin. That was the last time he’d seen or heard from you. You walked out of his life without so much as a goodbye.

Sam rolls his shoulders back, his mouth twisting in distaste, “Sure seemed like it to me.”

“See? Dense,” Bucky declares, tipping his beer in Sam's direction.

“Alright, I’ll bite. How does any of that make me dense?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Are you going to keep insulting me or are you going to actually explain?”

“Sam, she’s a spy, an assassin," Bucky explains like it should be obvious. "She knew you were standing there. She knew you were watching.”

"So maybe she wanted to make a point. It’s not like she was one for talking or communicating, maybe that was her way of letting me know how she actually felt. Trust me, I got the message loud and clear. That doesn’t make me dense."

"Sam..." Bucky takes a long breath. "We're a lot alike, me and her. And people like us, we cut and run, it's what we do. We don't wait for things to go bad, we live with the expectation that things will always go bad."

Sam tosses the rest of his whiskey back, flagging down the bartender for another one. "That's a depressing way to live."

“It keeps us alive.”

“We weren’t on a battlefield!" Sam spits through gritted teeth. "We were done with the fight, remember? We won, for Christ’s sake!”

“And where did that leave her, Sam? With a conditional pardon? People watching us 24/7?”

“With me!” Sam snaps, slamming his glass down on the bar. “It left her with me. We were good, Bucky! We were happy together. At least, I thought we were happy together. I even- I told her that after everything, that I would take her back home, meet my family, maybe settle down a little.”

"And while you're thinking about taking her home to meet your family, she's probably thinking how a family like yours is going to react to you bringing an actual assassin home."

"I... didn't think about it like that,” Sam confesses, faltering for a moment. He shakes his head. No. He refuses to accept that. It didn't excuse that he'd found you flirting with his best friend. It didn't change that you told him he meant nothing to you. “Because I don't think about her like that. And you know what? She could've talked to me, she could've told me she felt like that, Bucky, but she didn't."

"Sam, can I be honest?"

"Shoot."

"I don't think you two will ever work."

"That's a shitty thing to say to me," Sam spits.

"I don't," Bucky admits with a languid shrug. "Honest truth, I don't see it."

"You don't have to see it, I do,” Sam firmly states. “I see it working out."

Bucky claps a hand on Sam's shoulder with a tight lipped smile, "That's my point, Sam. That's the difference between you and us. You, you live for the hope of it all. She doesn't know how to do that. I don't know how to do that. We're broken, haunted people, Sam. We hurt people that get too close."

"You're wrong."

"Why else-"

"Because she was bored!" Sam angrily shouts, not caring at the stares his outburst brings. "She only wanted me because I was there."

“Do you honestly believe that?”

“Yes. I do believe that,” Sam hisses. “Unlike you guys, I believe the words that come out of people’s mouth. She was bored... She was bored and I was there.”

Bucky takes a long pull from his beer, rising from his seat with a defeated sigh. He turns to Sam to offer one last piece of insight, “All I’m saying is I wouldn’t go on the run with someone for two years because I was bored. Not unless I really gave a shit about them. Not unless I loved them, like really loved them.”

"Do you mean that?" Sam asks over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I mean that."

--

3 Years Earlier - Somewhere in Scotland

“Just let me do the talking, okay?”

Sam raises up his hands, “No arguments from me.”

The doorknob rattles for a moment, opening just enough for you to stand before them. You look at them and immediately try to snap the door shut, “No.”

Nat extends out her hand to stop the door from swinging shut. “Just hear us-“

“No.”

"You don't even know why we're here," Nat argues. “It’s important. Please.”

You relent, allowing the door to fling open. Standing tall in the doorway, your eyes rake over each of them, “Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov or whatever name you’re going by now, and Sam Wilson, all in the flesh, all the most wanted fugitives on Earth. So I don’t care how important it is, my answer is no.”

Sam’s eyes comically widen, his voice taking a slightly bewildered, high pitched tone, “How did - Do you happen to know the names of all strangers that show up at your door?”

Your eyes dart over to Sam with a grimace, “Strangers that show up at my door end up dead. Consider yourself lucky.”

“I want you to know I’m choosing to take that as a compliment,” Sam quips, placing his hand over his heart. 

“Don’t worry, Sam," Natasha smirks over her shoulder. "She’s more bark than bite. And this is me calling in a favor.”

Your eyes narrow at Natasha, "Which favor?"

"Budapest."

Your mouth narrows into a thin line as you glare at her. You hated that favor.

You look back at the three of them. Even dressed in street clothes they all stuck out like sore thumbs. They’re all disheveled, clearly exhausted, and you did owe Natasha. You convince yourself that there is no good in this deed, it’s just a repayment. Even as your eyes linger back to Sam for a second too long. You tell yourself you don't care what happens to any of them. It's just paying a debt. “Fine. Just keep me out of it.”

Natasha nods, offering a small grateful smile, “Thank you.”

You turn on your heels without another word, striding down to your room. You slam your bedroom door shut, leaving the others on their own.

“It was nice meeting you,” Sam calls after you.

You don’t bother to reply.

After a few hours, the sun sets and your safe house returns back to its normal quiet state except for the soft snores of Steve Rogers in your spare bedroom. You’re certain that they’ve all gone off to get some rest. That is, everyone, except Sam Wilson.

“Have a good nap?” Sam greets you, sitting on the small couch in the middle of your living room.

Your eyes snap over to Sam, lightly scoffing, “Actually, I was avoiding you.”

Your brutal honestly doesn’t phase Sam. The corner of his mouth twitches up as he playfully tugs on the collar of his t-shirt, “I tend to have that effect on the ladies… That sounded better in my head.”

“For you and me both,” you quip.

“You know, you’re kind of a jackass.”

“I know. Thanks.” That's the only conversation you plan on having with Sam Wilson. You continue walking to the kitchen without saying anything else.

"So how long have you and Nat been friends?" Sam asks, trailing you as you walk to your kitchen, clearly not taking the hint that you don't want to talk to him.

You scoff over your shoulder, "Who said we were friends?"

"So you're not friends? Because the whole letting us hide out here, housing us, letting us eat your food, not turning us in, sorta gave me a different idea."

"We're not friends."

In truth, your relationship to Natasha was much more complex than that. At one point, you were like sisters. In the Red Room, she was all you had. Your only friend. Your confidante. And still, you could never quite live up to her, always second to her. You knew all her secrets, all the blood spilt, all the skeletons in her closet, and she knew all of yours.

The night before your graduation, you ran. As far away and as quickly as your legs could carry you.

You were never quite sure if it was irony or simply Dreykov’s own cruelty, but she was the one tasked to find you and collect you. You never stood much of a chance against the person that spent almost two decades besting you. She found you in Budapest. It would’ve taken a single shot. And still, it never came.

But you weren’t going to tell that to Sam.

"You're not friends?”

"No."

After that, your paths crossed only once in a blue moon. Once Natasha left Dreykov, she never sought you out. And you didn’t bother to either. You weren’t friends. You weren’t enemies. She was the sister that became little more than a stranger.

"Do you help all your not friends run from the law?"

"Natalia and I have an agreement of ... mutually assured destruction."

"Mutually assured destruction?" he dubiously repeats, quirking an eyebrow. "...So best friends."

In spite of your best efforts, your outwardly stoic expression gives way as a chuckle bubbles out of your mouth.

"Did anyone see that?” Sam proudly announces to the empty house. “I want it on the record that I made a Black Widow laugh!"

"Don't push it," you warn, though the hint of a smile that pulls at the corner of your mouth dampens the threatening undertone of your words.

"You've got a nice smile," Sam compliments.

You wipe the smile off your face, but there's nothing you can do to tame the slight blush creeping up your face, so you say the first thing that comes to mind, "Fuck off."

--

That's how it went between you and him. Push and pull.

Their time at your safe house in Scotland was short lived. No more than a few weeks. And even in those few short weeks, he saw it, saw the good that you desperately tried to keep hidden. Even then he knew, he knew you cared so much more than you would ever let on. Cooped up in your little cottage, he found that behind your barbed words and tough exterior, was a person that he really liked. You didn't let him see very much of it. Most of the time, it was in little slip ups, little cracks in your armor, but he saw it. He swore he did.

Sam ambles alone through the streets of New York, the pavement is still damp from the midnight rain, the noisy cityscape is the only thing keeping Sam from fixating on the endless loop of memories playing in his head.

He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t think about you anymore. He did. All the time.

He thinks about how good it used to be. How even on the run, constantly looking over your shoulder, it was good. He'd like to think you were as happy as he was.

In truth, he wasn't sure how or when it happened. You weren't very nice to him - to any of them really. You kept them at arm's length. He had to earn every glimpse of the person behind the armor. He had to earn every smile, every laugh, but he found each one was worth it. To him, you were worth it. You were worth all of it. 

And when that time came, when that safe house wasn't safe anymore, you stayed by his side, you became his home. 

--

You simply walked up to the breakfast table and announced that it wasn't safe to stay much longer. "You have to leave."

"What?"

"We've been here too long. People in town are beginning to talk."

Natasha didn't miss a beat. "How long?"

"Tonight."

Sam watches the interaction closely. You refuse to look at him. For a moment, Natasha's eyes look at you, imploring. She utters a quiet question in Russian.

You don't respond, only shaking your head once.

"I understand." She softly inhales, her shoulders slumping slightly, "Thank you."

You nod, turning on your heels and heading to your room. You didn't expect Sam to follow after you.

There's some part of you that's unsettled by how easily Sam fits into your life. You don't like how he speaks to you like you're friends. You don't like that there's a part of you that would love to know what being in Sam's life would feel like. And you most certainly don't like that Sam has no problem questioning you. Prying into your life. He won't like what he finds. He'll run the moment he sees the number of skeletons in your closet. No, you don't like that at all. 

And you definitely don't like that he feels comfortable enough to follow you back to your bedroom. He wedges himself into your doorway, leaning against the wall, "So what about you?"

You don't turn to look at him as you pack your duffle bag, "What about me?"

"Where you gonna go?"

"I have other places."

"By yourself?"

"Typically."

"Why don't you stay with us?"

You pretend like you're surprised by the offer. As though Natasha didn't offer the same thing two minutes ago. You just didn't expect Sam's kindness to extend past his need for your safe house. "What?"

He takes a step off the wall. Even turned away from him, you can practically hear the grin he wears in his words. "We could always use the help. You seem like kind of a pro at being a fugitive."

"I don't think your team would appreciate my presence."

"I would. I want you to come." Sam turns back at the doorframe. He pauses for a moment, looking back at you. "You should come with us."

--

You never told him why you ended up joining them. It was the one question he couldn't ever get a straight answer for.

He couldn't really remember how or when you ended up in his bed - or more accurately, when he ended up in your bed.

All he knew was that for two years, you were his sanctuary. Each and every night. He held you. Kissed away your fears. You allowed him to see parts of you that you buried long ago. 

It made the moment you walked away hurt even more. 

He doesn't know what the hell he's doing here. He's pacing through the streets of New York in the middle of the night. It won't bring you back. It won't change what happened. You still left him.

It was easier believing that you left him because you didn't love him. 

The other option hurts. It hurts too much. His heart almost shatters at the though of you leaving him because you didn't see it working out, because you thought you would hurt him. 

That's the worst part - he believes Bucky. He believes that no one, not even someone as prone to finding trouble as you are, would ever go on the run with someone for the hell of it. Not unless you cared. Not unless you loved him. 

He should've seen it. The panic in your eyes when he suggested going back to Louisiana. The pain when you lost Natasha, the last person you considered family. 

It eats at him. He didn't even try. Not really. Yeah, you walked away, but he could've gone after you. He could've believed in the love he knew you shared. 

He reaches for his phone, tucking into the crook of his neck as he hails a cab, and calls the one person that could possibly help him, "I need your help. Can you find someone for me?"

--

1 Year Earlier - Somewhere in Eastern Europe

“Stop watching me sleep.”

Sam kisses your bare shoulder, resting his chin on your arm, “It’s the only time you’re not frowning. Except when you’re with me, of course.”

You sleepily sigh, trying to suppress the smile that Sam so effortlessly puts on your face. You halfheartedly push him away, rolling further away from him, “I’m going back to sleep.”

Sam’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him, “No, come back.”

“We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow, we should get the rest while we can.”

“I miss you,” Sam whines.

“I’m right here.”

“But we’re always talking about work, about the world ending, I just - I just want a minute, just me and you.”

You finally turn around to face him with a cheeky grin, “You had me to yourself all night, remember?”

“How could I forget?”

You settle against him, resting your head on his chest, “So why couldn’t you sleep?”

He smiles down at you, absentmindedly playing with your fingers, “I was thinking.”

“About?” you urge.

“What comes next. After the fight, after everything, about going home, finally seeing my family again. My sister would love you. I can't wait to introduce you."

Your smile slips from your face. "What?"

"I mean, I know we're on the run and everything, but I'm still holding onto hope," Sam confesses. "You'd love Louisiana."

A sinking feeling overtakes you. Those survival instincts you've spent your entire life cultivating bubble up. You could see Sam's family picture where he left it on the dresser. His picture perfect, shiny family.

That wasn't you. Not even in your wildest dreams could that be you. The closest thing you had to a family was the Black Widow sitting in the other room cleaning her knives. You weren't meant for domesticity. You weren't built for the happy ending that Sam deserved. The happy ending he wanted. 

Sure, he loved you now, but would he love you when his family looks at you with disdain? Would he love you when Sarah refuses to let you anywhere near his nephews? 

Or even worse, what if he did? What if he loved you through it all and you broke him in return? What if he loved you and he lost everything else because of it?

You could tell Sam. Right here and now. Tell him that you weren't built for that life. He would listen. He would hear you. Like all of your other scars and imperfections, Sam would take it in stride. You knew he would. 

But could you really do that to him? Doom him to a life tethered to someone so tainted.

He was perfect. In every conceivable way. He was Sunshine. And though you'd done unspeakable things, there would be nothing quite as vile as dragging him down to the dim, murky depths of the wasteland you called home.

He deserved more. More than you would ever be. 

--

6 Months Ago - A Bar in New York City

"You don't have to do this."

You bitterly chuckle. It was too late. You'd made up your mind. You gave yourself until the war against Thanos was won. You gave yourself that time to say your silent goodbyes, to memorize the one and only love you would ever allow yourself to have. You were selfish in that way.

Now was the time to save Sam while you still could, to finally set him free. Even if you had to break his heart to do it. You rest your hand on Bucky's chest, the furthest you could allow yourself to go without making your stomach turn. "Do what?"

Bucky's jaw ticks, "He's a good man."

"I know." It's the only time your voice reveals even an ounce of your pain. Your eyes flicker to over Bucky's shoulder. It's too late. Sam stands a few feet from you, watching you with anguish in his eyes. For good measure, you lean in closer, whispering in Bucky's ear, "But I never did well with sunshine."

"Can I talk to you outside?" Sam demands. 

You roll your eyes and snort, "If we have to."

"We do."

Sam doesn't waste a single moment. The second you step outside, he points back to the bar, "What the hell was that?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you kidding me? I saw you. You were all over him. He's my friend!"

"I was just having a little fun, Sam."

"A little fun?" Sam scoffs. "Are you kidding me?"

You don't allow a single ounce of remorse to show. You don't allow him to see the regret. Your face is purposely blank, cold and uncaring. You were good at this part. You were good at hurting people. It's exactly why you have to let him go. "I don't see what the big deal is, Sam."

"You don't see what the big deal is?" Sam's voice wavers. "You were just coming onto my friend! What about us?"

"What about us?" you scoff. "I was bored, Sam, we had our fun but it's done now. We're not on the run anymore. It's not a big deal."

"Just like that, we're just done?"

"You were there, Sam," you lie through your teeth. Acid churns in your stomach, rising up through your esophagus and coating your every word. "There's nothing more to it, nothing more to us."

You'd done a lot of bad things in your life, but nothing made you feel quite as wretched as watching Sam's heart shatter before you. It was better this way. He didn't know it, but it was for the best. You couldn't ruin his life anymore. You couldn't hurt him if you walked away right now. Those were the last words you ever said to him. 

--

He did it. He couldn't believe it. He'd found you. There you were, standing out on a rooftop, out in the pouring midnight rain. He almost laughs because of course you wouldn't even realize how theatrical this whole scene was. "Do you realize how dramatic it is to be standing out in the pouring rain all by yourself? And without an umbrella?"

"I'm working, Sam."

"Shooting your next romantic comedy? Is this the breakup scene?"

You don't even turn to look at him. “You shouldn’t be here, Sam.”

Sam scoffs, “That’s all you have to say? That I shouldn’t be here?”

“Go home, Sam," you demand. "I don’t want you here.”

“You’re such a jackass, you know that?”

It pisses him off that you still refuse to even look at him. If you were going to break his heart all over again, the least you could do was look him in the eye. You speak through clenched teeth, "I know."

He storms around, planting himself in front of you, forcing you to look at him. "No, I mean that, I really, truly, from the bottom of my heart, I mean that. You're such an asshole. You're one of the most difficult, abrasive, cold, and selfish people I've ever met."

You can't bring yourself to meet his gaze. You look just past him, mustering every ounce of your training to stay stone faced, "I know."

"Do you know how hard it was to find you?"

"I didn't ask you to come here," you spit at him. "I didn't want you to come looking for me. You knew that."

"And you're a liar!" Sam exclaims, a bitter laugh bubbling up from his chest. "A damned good one, too."

"I never lied to you about who or what I was."

"But you did lie, didn't you? You've lied to me before."

“Yes, I have," you softly admit. You catch yourself, reminding yourself of why you're being so harsh with Sam. You force yourself to speak with that venomous tone you know all too well, "Many times, so if you’re done insulting me, I have to go.”

"God, you're so selfish, and- and you're mean! You brood way too much. You're so fucking angsty all the time. You act like the tortured character in every shitty teen movie every made. You're inconsiderate. You don't listen. I swear, talking to you is like talking to a brick wall. And sometimes - sometimes, I want to hate you so much."

It takes everything in you to sound as unaffected as you do. You quirk an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms over your chest, "Is that why you came here? Because you're upset?"

"Upset?" Sam incredulously repeats, taking a step toward you. He's still several feet away from you, still far out of your reach, "No, I'm not upset. I was upset six months ago. Now, I'm angry. I'm pissed off - with you. I have never been so mad at another human being in my entire life."

"I didn't do anything to you. You knew who I was - who I am."

"You think that's why I'm pissed? I'm pissed because you made me like you. I'm pissed that you made me fall so hopelessly in love with you."

For the first time in six months, your eyes find his. His warm eyes, the ones that grounded you through storms of midnight rain. He'd never said he loved you before - there's no taking that back. You suck in a breath, "Sam."

"I'm pissed because I believed you when you said you were bored. But mostly, I'm pissed that I let you go, that I let you walk away without fighting for you."

You try to warn him, beg him to stop before he says something that'll make it too hard to walk away from him. "Sam."

"Because I'm in love with you."

Your voice wavers as you beg him, "Don't do this, Sam."

"I'm in love with you," Sam announces again to his audience of one. "And I know you don't think you're good for me. And I know that it won't be easy, but I am. I am in love with you. Every part of you. Especially the parts you don't like. I like that you're mean, I like that you're tougher than any other person I've ever met, I like that you're grumpy. I like that you don't see how dramatic it is to stand in the pouring rain all by yourself! I love you. I love all of you."

"Sam..." His name leaves your mouth in a whisper. It's too late. You're not strong enough to survive walking away from him. He's doomed himself.

He takes a step closer to you. "And maybe it wasn't real... but I think it was. I think you feel the same." And then another step. And yet another. Until you're face to face, close enough that you could reach out and touch him for the first time in months. The rain beats down on the two of you. The dampness on your cheeks has nothing to do with the rain. "Tell me that you don't love me and I'll leave. Tell me and I won't bother you again, I promise."

You can't. You can't bring yourself to say any of it. "Sam, it'll never work for us. You have to know that."

"We're not at war anymore." His hand skates across your cheek. "We don't have to hide. We don't have to run."

"I'm not - I'm not good, Sam." And you are, you want to say.

“No, no, you’re not good. You’re great. You’re amazing. And it’s a damn shame you haven’t stepped into the daylight long enough to see how incredible you are.”

You jerk your face away from his hand, “And what if I can’t give you what you want? What if I can’t be what you want?”

“What do you know about what I want?”

“You want a bride. You want someone to bring home to your family - that’s not me, Sam. I don’t think that’ll ever be me.”

“I want you." Sam takes your face in between both hands, begging you to see the sincerity in his eyes. "I want you in whatever way you’ll have me.”

“I’m not worth it," you softly exhale. "You have to know that I’m not worth the trouble and the heartache I’ll put you through.”

“Break my heart," Sam offers without hesitation. "Do it over and over again. Do it for the rest of our lives. It’s all yours. You’re worth it.”

“Sam…” You didn’t have any other defense. He’d broken down each and every argument you spent years cultivating. You didn’t know where to go from here.

“Do you love me?” Your lips press into a thin line, eyes squeezing shut to keep the tears welling in your eyes from falling. The rain slows to a halt. His thumb and pointer finger grip your chin, forcing you to meet his warm brown eyes. “Do you love me?”

“I love you.” You don't think you've ever said those words before. You don't think you've ever seen the daylight until you saw him. It'll take time for your eyes to adjust, but he's worth it. "I love you so much it hurts, so much that I let you go."

“You don't have to let me go anymore. We'll figure the rest out together."

Sam Wilson Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[my-proof-is-you]

Now That We Don’t Talk - Part 2

Summary: When you started dating Jensen Ackles, things were damn near perfect. You were so compatible, and you fit into his life seamlessly. After Supernatural ended, though, Jensen got a new job. Pretty soon, Jensen also got a new life. And you no longer fit in it.

Jensen x You

Inspired by the song Now That We Don’t Talk by Taylor Swift

Masterlist

Present - Jensen

It had been two weeks since he’d last talked to you. Two weeks since you’d walked out the door, leaving Jensen confused and heartbroken. Two weeks since you’d told him you were going, and Jensen let you leave.

He felt the anxiety bubbling up, threatening to overtake his senses. He was on his way back from a party for the season wrap of The Boys.

Going to parties with other people in the industry was just part of his job. He had to do it frequently, but it didn’t change the panic he felt after the events about how he’d come off or what sort of impressions he’d made. 

You used to help him with that.

Not only did he know he made a better impression on strangers with you by his side, but you were the only one who could calm him down after a party. You knew exactly what to say and brought him out of his mind. He thought back to one of the first parties he’d brought you to.

Jensen slid into the car that had been waiting to pick you up. As soon as he settled and the car was moving, he let out a deep sigh, placing his head in his hands. 

“Jay.”

He didn’t move. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, and his breathing was becoming a little shallow. 

“Jay, look at me,” you said. You’d placed a hand on his thigh from your seat next to him. He finally lifted his head, glad he had when he saw the soft smile gracing your face. 

“What’s going on?” You asked, a small crinkle forming between your brows. “It went great,” you said, moving your hand to interlace your fingers with his.

“I just—I feel like no one liked me. My jokes fell flat, I was awkward—the only time things felt good was when I was talking to you or Jared.” He stared down at your interlocked hands.

“That’s not true, Jens. Everyone there loved you.”

“How do you know?” He asked incredulously.

“Because I do,” you said with a pointed look. “You’re hard on yourself. You focus on your flaws. But when you’re on the outside,” you paused, placing a gentle finger under his chin to lift it, causing him to look at you, “it’s obvious. You are amazing, and I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Jensen smiled and leaned into your hand that had slipped to his cheek. His fears faded, and he leaned toward you, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You gave a small, contented sigh, and Jensen melted even more. 

He let the memory of your words echo in his head. It was in no way the same as having you with him. But he tried to remember that he was critical of himself, and that he had probably been fine at the party. After all, he was a bigger name now. People stared when he walked in—moved to the side to let him through as he approached his fellow actors. 

He chuckled dryly to himself. He could almost see you rolling your eyes at the awed expressions of the partygoers. You’d never bought into acting like celebrities were royalty. It was one of the things that had attracted him to you in the first place. 

He sucked in a sharp breath as realization hit him.

It was one of the things that drove you away, too. 

You - Now

“I’m sorry, Gen,” you said into your phone. You really were sorry. You wanted nothing more than to see your closest girlfriend. Hell, you even wanted to see Jared. In the time you and Jensen had dated you had gotten close to the entire Padalecki family. 

“It’s not like we’re taking sides, Y/N. We miss you,” she said with a sigh. 

“It’s not about that,” you replied as you paced your apartment. “It’s just…he’s your family, Gen. He’s always going to be in your lives. And I just can’t—“ You stopped, taking a deep breath. “I just can’t be around him right now.”

“I get it, Y/N/N, I do. Let’s plan a date for just you and me, though, okay? And soon. I need my best friend.”

You felt guilty for not being around more and there for Gen. But you remembered what it was like when you were with Jensen. The four of you did so much together: dinners, long weekends at the lake…and just because you and Jensen weren’t together anymore didn’t mean those events stopped. It just meant you couldn’t bring yourself to be a part of them knowing he would be there.

You’d promised to get together with her the following week before your call ended. You laid down on your bed, and exhausted from a long day. You really did love your job running a small boutique in downtown Austin, even if it was tiring. Jensen had introduced you to the owner at a party before you’d moved to Austin and started living with him. He knew you’d loved all things both vintage and handmade, and figured you would hit it off with Kendra. 

Kendra had wanted to take more time to travel, and thankfully had really liked you. So she allowed you to run the day-to-day of the store, and you loved it. 

You decided to scroll through social media before going to sleep. Of course the first thing to pop up on your feed was a picture of Jensen. 

Pain stabbed at you when you saw his face. He looked handsome as ever, though you noticed he’d continued growing his hair out. You had always liked it a little shorter, like how he kept it for Supernatural. 

Guess it doesn’t matter what I think now, anyway. 

The headline of the article under the picture was something about Jensen and some pro golfer he’d spent time on the course with. You rolled your eyes. 

One of his new “idols,” I’m sure. 

Try as you might to not dwell on it, you couldn’t help but be annoyed. Jensen never used to care about big names or other celebrities. You’d missed that attitude toward the end of your relationship. It felt like he was always schmoozing someone at every event he dragged you to. 

You locked your phone and put it face down, sighing. 

It was so strange to feel the way you did. You were so angry with Jensen. And while you were pissed, it didn’t mean you didn’t miss him. It was the main reason you couldn’t talk to him. You’d just want to get back together with him. 

You couldn’t, though. He’d changed too much. He wasn’t the same man you’d fallen for. 

You cried as you fell asleep. You cried because you missed him. You cried because you knew you shouldn’t miss him. You cried for the memory of who Jensen was before. 

You - Two Years Ago

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You were luckily finishing up your shift at the bar and pulled it out, surprised when you saw a number you didn’t recognize. 

Okay, 1000 miles is officially too far. 

You smiled, surprised to be hearing from the actor already. 

Y: What makes you say that? Didn’t enjoy the views on the drive home?

J: It was beautiful. I was a little distracted, though. 

You pulled out your keys before responding, having already made the short walk back to your apartment. 

Y: Oh?

J: Yeah. Had trouble getting a certain pair or Y/E/C eyes out of my head. 

J: Still can’t. 

You felt yourself blushing. You liked to play it cool with the opposite sex—be mysterious, even. But you couldn’t deny that the man made you feel things. 

Y: Pretty interesting statement coming from a man who has millions of fans fawning over his eye color. 

J: Eh, they like the eyes of a character I play. It’s not like they know me. 

Y: And you think you know me?

J: I know enough to wish I knew more. 

Y: And you think the way to do that is through texting?

J: Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. I’ll get on a plane right now. 

You sent him an eye-rolling emoji. While you appreciated the gesture, you wouldn’t want him to actually do that. You wouldn’t want anyone to spend that kind of money on you, actor or not. 

Y: How about we play 20 questions before boarding any planes, hot shot. 

J: Works for me :)

You and Jensen spent the better part of the evening texting back and forth, asking each other questions as silly as what your favorite colors were to as serious as what your childhoods were like. 

J: You know, all this getting-to-know-you does is make me want to see you again even more.

Y: Well, hot shot, if you can make it happen without spending crazy amounts of money, I’d be glad to see you again.

J: Hmm…challenge accepted.

Y: No one is challenging you!

J: It’s my own little challenge, sweetheart. ;) goodnight.

Y: Goodnight, Jensen. 

Forevers:

@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​  @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573

Dean/Jensen:

@harleycao 

[xetswan]

By Your Side- Prologue

(Joshua Washington X Reader)

(Until Dawn)

[Prologue] [One] [Two]

“Hey sissy.” Jessica jumps on the end of my bed with a huge grin. I raise a brow, closing my laptop.

“What is it, Jess?” I let out a large sigh causing her to pout out her lip.

“Oh come on, I just wanted to hang out with my older sister.” She nudges my calf, scooting closer to me on the bed.

“Right, you haven’t called me sissy in years.” I call her out, to which my little sister scoffs. Shaking her head in disagreement to my statement.

Right now we’ve been home alone, our parents out for some business trip or so they say. They do this every month or two, telling us a business trip came up that they have to go to when in reality we all know it’s just a mini vacation they want to take without feeling guilty. Something they shouldn’t have to feel guilty for.

“Uh, yes I have. Just the other day. Maybe I just want to say it again.” Jessica argues with me and I let out a small chuckle.

“Okay, I’ll keep you to it, sissy.” I mock her, she tries to hide it but she breaks out into a smile as well.

“Okay, fine. I overheard Hannah saying we’re going to the lodge! Did Josh say anything to you about it?” She hops up on her knees, bouncing on my bed a little bit. “It was mentioned but I don’t think I’m going.” I let out a nervous laugh, I watched as her eyes bulged out of the sockets along with her mouth hung wide open.

“You have to go! Mom and dad won’t let me go unless you do.” She grips on my knee shaking me aggressively.

It’s not that I don’t want to go.

It sounds fun as heck but lately Josh has been acting a little more flirtatious with me and I’m not up for an awkward weekend of the group making fun of us. Ever since Thanksgiving he started becoming more flirty with me. I went to his family’s dinner and I don’t know.

I like him, of course I do. Who wouldn’t in my position I just don’t want our friendship to get messed up in the heat of things.

“I.. I don’t know Jessie. I have a lot of homework to catch up on.” I lie, I’m all caught up. I only have three classes so I also have time to work.

“[Name], please. I’ll clean your car whenever you want me to! And your dishes! For a month!” She pleads with me. I bite the tip of my thumb thinking about it. A weekend with friends might get out minds off of things. Josh might not bother me as much as I think he will. I close my eyes.

“Okay,” I breathe out, “okay, I’ll go but please try to make sure the pranks against me are at a minimum. And don’t worry about cleaning my things.” I slouch down a tad bit only to be brought back up by my sister who squeals and hugs me. “I can’t wait for the invitation to make things official!” She lets me go and excitedly leaves my room.

I hear her call Ashley which surprised me. I didn’t expect her to really become friends with Ashley. It’s better than Emily though.

I check my phone that pings a few times, Josh and Chris’s names pop up and I roll my eyes at what they’re saying.

“Partying it up on Mount Washington!!!!!!!!! What you guys think?” Josh using way too many exclamation points.

“I’m in, you know it!” Chris sends with multiple emojis and I snort out a laugh.

“[Name], how about you?” Josh puts a little winky face to which I roll my eyes, a smirk still laid upon my lips though.

“Hm, I don’t know.” I respond back, Chris sends a gasping face emoji in response to my message.

“You’re the life of the party you have to be there:(“ Chris says.

“Is it worth my time though?” I tease them, obviously I already told Jessica I was going. I’m not backing out of my word but it is fun to mess with my boys.

“Oh wowww, can’t believe Miss chugger won’t come to a party… with provided alcohol.” Josh says, my jaw slacks open in shock.

“Hey, Miss chugger is in the past, dead even and she’s not coming back.” I remind him. In high school we of course were bit of partiers.

I was the worst of the worst when it comes to drinking. I’d out drink everyone, chugging disgusting beers, taking shots of pure vodka like it was nothing. Just thinking about those days makes me want to vomit.

“I miss her:(“ Chris comments,

Josh puts the laughing emoji, “me too:(“ I roll my eyes once again.

“Shut up, I’m coming I already told Jessie I would. Miss chugger on the other hand you guys can forget it.” I turn my phone off after I hit send, getting back on my laptop to watching YouTube videos like I was before Jessica rudely came into my room.

“C’mon, sissy, everyone else is already waiting for us!” Jessica dramatically tugs me onto the cable car.

“You’re really sticking with Sissy now?” I scrunch my face, throwing my backpack onto my back since I just had to get my hat out, somehow I forgot how cold it actually was going to be up here. I was currently wearing a little puffer jacket, a pink slightly cropped sweater underneath with low rise jeans.

“Of course, I told you I might want to say it again and I do!” She folds her arms. I shake my head. “Okay, sorry.” I jokingly say.

As the cable car goes up I glance around. Taking in the beauty of it all.

I used to come up here with the Washington’s for the summer sometimes, this also isn’t my first winter up here. I love the Washington’s, they’ve always welcomed me. It was nice to have a place where I didn’t always have to take Jessica with me since she’s my younger sister our parents always expected me to have her tag along.

I love her and all but it’s cool to have my own time too.

“Look, I see them!” She points over to the group who were actually waiting for us. I glance over and they’re waving to us, so we do it back.

Jessica was practically on the edge of her seat excited to get off. As it gets to where we need to be we rush off and get greeted with hugs from our friends. Even if we’ve seen them just days or a few weeks ago.

“It’s nice to see you actually came!” Josh jokes with me, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Yeah, it was a tough decision.” I mess with him. Chris gives me a small side hug.

“Ready for the weekend Chugger?” He takes my hat off to which I slap him on the arm.

“Chugger doesn’t exist anymore. Give me that!” I jump up to grab from the blond.

“I think I’ll wear it.” He places it on his head. “Doesn’t this look nice on me, Josh?” Chris turns to our other friends as we all start walking. “Oh man, I’d totally take you to the bone zone if you were a girl.” Josh says and I let out a sort of loud laugh.

“The bone zone? God you are so corny.” I hold my stomach.

“Okay, okay, calm down. It wasn’t that funny.” Josh pats my back. Chris tries to hold back his laughter as well.

“Are we almost there yet, my feet are killer from the work out I did earlier.” Matt speaks up from behind us, we stop and turn.

“Just a little bit always, princess.” Beth replies to him. “Ha-ha, I’m serious. I might’ve did a little too much.” He mainly comments the last part to himself. I then hear Mike and Emily flirting with each other making me want to gag but then I also notice how Hannah was staring at them, well staring at Mike.

We began walking again and I slowed down a little bit.

“Hey, Han.” I nudge her arm. She snaps out of her thoughts looking at me.

“Hey [Name].” She gives a small smile. “You like him?” I whisper, her face suddenly then drops.

“Who told you? Did Josh read my journal or something?” She starts to panic but I shush her, calming her down.

“No, no, I saw the way you were looking at them. Either you like him or it’s Emily which is kind of doubtful considering I didn’t think you swung that way. It’s not a bad thing if you did.” I rambled on a little bit, causing her to snicker shaking her head.

“It’s him, I didn’t think I was that obvious.” She shyly rubs her hands together, most likely trying to give herself warmth.

“It’s probably not, I just enjoy observing people sometimes.” I assure her.

“Oh, okay. Well I’ve actually done some observing myself and it seems like you’re avoiding my brother.” She calls me out, my mouth instantly closing having nothing to say in response to that spot on observance she had.

“What? I haven’t- I’m not avoiding him.” I disagree, glancing up to see Josh, Chris and Matt messing with each other as Mike cheers for god knows what they’re doing. “Right, so you not coming over on the weekends to hang out with Josh after Thanksgiving is you not avoiding him?” She questions me.

“Exactly it’s not.” I try to stay confident with my answer, attempting to keep a straight face but once I look at her we both burst into laughter.

“Fine, fine! I am.” I sigh out, kicking the snow as we walk up the trail. “But why? You guys never have a problem.” She frowns.

“It’s a long story.” I bite my bottom lip thinking about all that’s happened.

“We have some time before we get to the house.” She says, shrugging her shoulders. I glance up ahead again, seeing as everyone was pre-occupied with each other.

“Josh and I sort of got flirty with each other. Your brother was super headstrong with it. I kind of did it back. We kissed a few times on Thanksgiving night and since that night I was scared it would ruin our friendship so I cut back. I gave excuses to not come over.” I let out in a low voice so only she could hear. Hannah smiles at me sweetly.

“I know I’m a jerk for it but it’s just my anxiety taking over I guess.” I stare at the ground.

“You’re not a jerk. That also wasn’t a long story.” She comments, both of us laughing once again. “Just talk with Josh. You never know what could happen.” Hannah nudges me, I do it back to her. Both of us smiling. “Okay, I will.” I stand up straighter.

Once we get to the lodge, Josh opens the door dramatically.

“Finally, warmth!” Sam opens her arms, spinning around as she walks further inside. I watch Beth turn the lights on with a smirk watching Sam. “Very exciting.” I agree, tugging my jacket off, holding it in my arm.

“Party time!” Mike announces earning the rest of us to cheer. Josh, Chris, Ashley and I go get our rooms, well Josh is showing us to ours, I’m the last one too. He turns a familiar corner and I start to fold my arms.

“This is your room, Josh.” I point out. “Nice observation.” He smirks, taking my jacket and back from my hands he places them down with his on a chair that’s up against the wall. I shake my head, chuckling.

“Where’s my actual room that I usually sleep in?” I lean against the doorway.

“Oh c’mon, babe. Just this weekend.” He comes up to me, taking one of my hands. “Just this weekend, what?” I raise a brow, confused but also intrigued. He leads me into the room, sitting me down before going back to close the door.

“I mean we both know how we feel about each other. It’s pretty obvious.” He concludes, not exactly looking me in the eyes. “And how do we feel about each other, Joshua?” I stare up at him. His eyes finally meet mine, and it looks like he melted just from our eye contact.

“Y’know…” He mutters, coming closer. “I don’t.” I tease him, standing up to push him down on the bed so I’m in between his legs this time. His hands find my hips, aggressively he squeezes them, lowly groaning.

“[Name], please, you don’t understand what you do to me.” He pulls me closer to him, my chest practically in his face. I feel my face warm up, I wasn’t expecting this. My hand drags up his torso to his face, cradling it as I force him to look up at me.

“Let’s try this out.” I whisper. His eyes lighten up, I feel his grip tighten even more.

“What- what do you mean?” He adjusts himself on the bed, I still stare at his face. “Let’s try out the relationship thing,” I begin and a smile erupts on his face.

“But, if this doesn’t work out, we don’t let our friendship get awkward.” I practically am begging with my facial expression. “It will work out.” He pushes me back a little bit so he can stand up. He kisses me gently, first on the lips then trailing down to my jawline.

“We should get going back down before anyone gets suspicious.” I hum out, feeling his lips begin to touch my neck. I try to push on his chest but he’s gripping my sides so tightly like I’ll run away.

“Let them.” He takes a small break only to work on my neck again. “Josh.” I gasp. He snickers, finally stopping. His eyes trail all over my face then to my neck.

“You might want to cover that up.” He taps the spot he was attacking before grabbing his phone from the bed and walking out. My face scrunches up, confused at first but then I rush over to the mirror, I let out a loud gasp.

“Joshua!!” I hold my neck and I hear him let out a laugh. I sigh, going over to the chair with our stuff and dig in it, finding a stupid thin scarf I brought and neatly wrap it to hide the hickey he gave me.

I finally start heading downstairs, joining the rest of the group who were planning out what we’re doing for the weekend.

Later that night Josh and Chris decided to do a drinking game, I sat next to Josh as Chris sat across from us.

Beth and Sam were watching everything go down. “Come on Chugger, you gotta join us.” Chris practically whines, my eyes roll in response. “I told you she’s dead. Now knock it off.” I wave my hand in a swift movement.

“I liked Chugger, she was sexy.” Josh whispered the last part into my ear. I shove him away from me as my face warmed up.

“What was that? Care to share with the class?” Sam speaks up and I felt my eyes widen.

“Chugger, she was a sexy woman back in the day.” Josh announces and my body shrivels down in embarrassment. “She was a careless teenager.” I disagree. “Same thing.” Chris shrugs his shoulders, picking up a beer and beginning to take the first sip.

I watched as the two get shitfaced with Beth and Sam, us three talking about school work or just things going on in our lives.

Sam decides to join the others and I think Hannah went to go write or something, Beth and I are now taking pictures on our phones acting stupid.

Josh and Chris are passed out now.

“I’m glad you decided to come.” Beth smiles at me and I nod, putting my phone down.

“Me too, even if your brother is annoying. I’m still having fun.” I joke, of course forgetting why I have my scarf on I take it off due to me getting hot and my neck starting to sweat.

“He loves you.” Beth mumbles looking over at her drunken brother, laughing. “I don’t know about love but yeah.” I glance over at him, his face smushed on his arm with his mouth wide open.

“Oh my god.” The girl suddenly whispers and I snap my head over to her. “What? What is it?” I look down at myself to see if she accidentally dropped something on me.

“Is that a hickey?” She flicks the spot on my neck, I hiss, slapping her hand away.

“Is that from Josh?” She breaks out into a small laughing fit.

“What- no, it’s- maybe.” I couldn’t find a good excuse okay? Kill me. “That’s hilarious, Matt owes me fifty bucks.” She throws her head back.

“You bet on our love life?” I crossed my arms. “Everyone practically did. Even Chris.” She gets up to start cleaning after Josh and Chris.

I just sit there, in shock from what she just told me.

Beth leaves the room and I go back to sitting beside Josh, laying my head down on his shoulder. He moves around a little bit. “Hm?” He hums and I shush him.

“Sorry, just wanted to be by you.” I whisper. He grumbles a little bit but harshly leans up to put his arm around me, laying his head back down on his other arm. I smile to myself, laying down on my arm, cuddling up next to him. Our legs now sort of entangled together. I didn’t drink or anything but the tiredness of traveling finally hit me.

I don’t even know how much time has passed but that was until I heard the ending of a conversation.

“Just because he’s class Prez doesn’t mean he belongs to everyone… Mike is my man.” I hear Emily say as they leave the kitchen.

“Hey, Em. I’m not anybody’s man.”

“Whatever you say, Darling!” She sings. I lift my head up for a second but then shrug, going back to sleep, I hear someone walk in but I just ignore it.

Thinking I was going to get to fall asleep for longer I instead get Beth walking in to continue cleaning up, I still let Josh hold onto me but I sit my head up to watch her.

“Hey did you see that? Dad said it’d just be us this weekend.” She turns to us but sees the two boys still passed out.

“Josh?”

“He’s been passed out, love. I don’t think you’ll be waking him up anytime soon.” I give her a sad face.

“But what did you see?” I ask. “I thought I saw someone outside. I swear I did.” She frowns, glancing at the window again but she heads over to the counter.

She picks up a bottle that’s in front of us and empty by the way. It’s an older scotch, Jeremiah Cragg.

“Jeez, Josh… Once again brother you outdone us all. She pats the arm that he has around me and I tiredly laugh. I then watch her spin a paper around, picking it up to read it.

“Oh my god. What did our naive sister get herself into now?” Beth turns to us and I raise a brow. “What?” I ask. “Here.” She hands me the paper and I read it. I close my eyes letting out a long breath.

“I think they found out about Hannah’s feelings. This has to be a prank.” I gently pull Josh’s arm off of me and I stand up, placing the paper down and they we look outside to see Hannah crying, running past the window.

“Oh my god.” I gasp.

“Wake Josh I’ll go to the others, I hope that wasn’t Hannah.” She runs outside, I nod. Going over to the passed out drunk. I overhear the others yelling outside for Hannah and then hear Beth run after her sister.

“Josh, Joshua, hun.” I push his body. His snore becomes a little louder and I bite my bottom lip. “Babe, c’mon wake up, Beth and Hannah ran outside.” I say a little loud, shaking him more aggressively.

“What?” He becomes more awake.

“They what?” He lifts his head up.

“The others played a prank on Hannah, I’m guessing it was bad because she ran outside and Beth followed from what I heard.” I tell him, now he’s more alert and he drunkenly stood up. He stumbles a bit so I run over and get him a water.

“Here, drink and let’s go.” I tell him. Suddenly when we saw the group he sobers up.

“What the hell did you guys do!?” Josh angrily shouts, he was holding my hand for support.

“It was just a prank, Josh, we didn’t mean for it to upset her like that.” Emily steps forward and I glare at her. Then at Mike, then to Jessica.

“Especially you, Jessica.” I point a finger at her, her head goes down.

“I can’t believe you guys would do something so stupid like that.” I shake my head, disappointed.

“I tried to warn her, I was too late.” Sam tells me and I smile weakly. “Let’s just hope they come back soon.” I frown.

Soon never came though.

After thirty minutes Josh began to panic and I woke Chris up. Catching him up with everything as we decided to go look for the two sisters.

I called the police and mountain patrol but we never found them.

For months we did search parties, I stayed by Josh’s side, knowing it’s a tough time for him. I barely passed two semesters as I was always with him trying to help.

I didn’t mind it though. I wanted to make sure he was okay. I knew he wasn’t. His parents were rough on him, telling him it was his fault since he was drunk.

It wasn’t his fault. It was our stupid friends fault for playing that dirty prank on Hannah the way they did.

It’s about a year now and no one has even seen a sign of them…

It’s horrible.

[calliesadeckis]

character's i write for

welcome to my list of characters where i have many of them from many fandoms that i write for

requests: temporarily closed

main masterlist

yellowjackets (shauna shipman, jackie taylor, lottie matthews, taissa turner, van palmer, nat scatorccio, laura lee, callie sadecki)

dc titans (dick grayson, jason todd, kory anders, gar logan, donna troy, dawn granger, hank hall)

fear street (deena johnson, sam fraser, ziggy berman, cindy berman, kate schmidt, alice hart, simon kalivoda, tommy slater, young!nick goode)

teen wolf (scott mccall, stiles stilinski, isaac lahey, malia tate, kira yukimura, lydia martin, liam dunbar)

scream (sam carpenter, tara carpenter, chad meeks martin, mindy meeks martin, wes hicks, quinn bailey)

miscellaneous: maeve rojas (one of us is lying), leighton murray (the sex lives of college girls), kit walker (american horror story), miguel diaz (cobra kai), brooke davis (one tree hill), maeve wiley & ruby matthews (sex education), kate bishop (hawkeye), any of hailee steinfeld's characters tbh, jeremiah fisher (the summer i turned pretty), roronoa zoro (one piece live action)

another thing i'd like to add, i wouldn't mind writing poly ships x reader like dickkory, jackieshauna, stalia, sameena, lottienat, jaygar, etc. (or a poly ship with crossover characters like dick grayson & kate bishop for example)

i will write for fluff, angst, and maybe smut (there's only so much i am comfortable with though) if you ask nicely. and i only write for fem & gn readers

and as a reminder, you guys can request for the following fandoms for oneshots, headcanons, or just sending your fluffy or horny thoughts in my inbox (i don't judge)

[snowangie]

snow on the beach

a finnick odair x fem!oc series

summary : in the heart of the capitol's glittering deception, Giselle Snow, granddaughter of president coriolanus snow, conceals her true emotions while working to undermine the hunger games. sent to district 4 after the 74th Games, she grapples with forbidden love for district 4's Finnick Odair. Snow on the beach is weird but fucking beautiful – Giselle is the snow, Finnick is the beach, an unexpected yet perfect harmony in the delicate ballet of their existence. as the quarter quell unfolds, panem becomes a battleground for love and rebellion, and Giselle faces a choice that will alter destinies and unravel the threads of her past.

content warnings: swearing, mild smut, violence, death, torture, mentions of sex trafficking, weapons, trauma, mental illnesses

genre: angst, romance, forbidden love, violence, hurt/comfort

chapters: 1-flecks of lights , 2-life is emotionally abusive , 3-time cant stop me quite like u did

chapter 2 : life is emotionally abusive

The people of District 4 greeted Katniss and Peeta as they stepped off the train for their Victory Tour. Giselle, with an air of poised authority, her posture commanding respect, stood at the forefront to welcome them. Cameras followed their every move, capturing the supposed harmony of the Capitol’s facade.

With an air of quiet strength, Giselle extended a delicate hand to welcome Katniss and Peeta. “Welcome to District 4. I’m Giselle Snow, overseeing the affairs of this district.”

The atmosphere was different from the other districts they had visited. As the cameras trailed their every move, Giselle’s blue eyes, mirroring the despised lineage she carried, maintained a stoic composure. Her poise was unwavering, a testament to the Capitol’s meticulous training.

Katniss, known for her keen instincts, sensed something unique about Giselle. The way the district residents looked at her, the unspoken understanding in the air – it was evident that Giselle was more than just a Capitol puppet.

Giselle continued, her words carrying a weight of responsibility. “District 4 has faced its share of challenges too. They find hope in various places, not just in the Capitol's spotlight.”

Katniss, intrigued, exchanged a glance with Peeta. Giselle's words resonated differently from the usual diplomatic scripts they encountered. There was a genuine strength in her, a leader who saw beyond the Capitol's narrative.

As Giselle guided them through the district, her interactions with the residents showcased a different kind of connection. She spoke of resilience, community, and a shared vision for a better Panem. The people listened with unwavering trust, their admiration for Giselle extending beyond the reason that she is a part of the president’s legacy.

The atmosphere carried a sense of controlled leadership, and the cameras drank in the illusion of unity. Giselle, aware that her every move would be scrutinized by Capitol eyes, played her part with practiced precision.

Katniss, observing Giselle from a distance, couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship. There was a quiet understanding between them, an acknowledgment that they both carried burdens and hopes beyond the Capitol's expectations. The cameras captured the carefully orchestrated scenes of unity, but Katniss, attuned to the subtlest of nuances, recognized that Giselle was more than the Snow name she bore.

Leading the district with a firm yet graceful hand, Giselle’s gestures exuded a quiet assurance that belied her petite stature. The Capitol might see her as an obedient Snow, but Katniss, with her discerning gaze, recognized the subtle nuances that hinted at a conflict within Giselle – a struggle to maintain the facade while harboring a more profound truth. Despite the polished exterior, she caught glimpses of something more. In the subtle cracks of Giselle's composure, Katniss saw vulnerability. A flicker of emotion that betrayed the Capitol facade.

As the visit unfolded, Katniss turned to Peeta, a subtle gleam playing in her eyes yet her face expressionless. “There's something about Giselle. I have a good feeling about her.”

Peeta, equally perceptive, nodded in agreement. The visit to District 4 had revealed a leader who, like Katniss and Peeta, recognized the power of hope amidst the Capitol's shadows. In Giselle, they found an unexpected ally, a person from the capitol who saw beyond the facade and shared a vision for change in Panem.

As Katniss and Peeta boarded the Capitol-bound train for their next Victory Tour stop, Katniss couldn't shake the impressions of their visit to District 4. She found herself deep in thought, staring out the window as the landscape blurred into a ribbon of green.

Peeta, noticing her contemplation, gently asked, “What's on your mind, Katniss?”

Katniss turned to him, her eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern. “Giselle Snow. She is Snow’s granddaughter right ? There's something about her that's different, Peeta. Did you see it?”

Peeta nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, she doesn’t feel like a part of the Capitol. There's a strength in her, a sense of purpose beyond the Games. It’s almost like she wasn’t born and raised by Snow.”

As they settled into their compartment, Haymitch, nursing a drink, sauntered in. Katniss, determined to share her observations, spoke up, “Haymitch, have you ever talked to Giselle Snow?”

Haymitch, raising an eyebrow, took a swig from his flask. “Giselle Snow, the granddaughter of President Snow himself. Yeah, I've heard of her of course. She's got connections close to the top, closer than most. But she's not your typical Capitol socialite.”

Katniss, intrigued, asked, “But she's not like them. I can feel it. There’s a look to her eyes that reminds me of us. The hurt. It’s not like a secret agenda. It’s a look of humanity.”

Haymitch, a seasoned observer of the Capitol's machinations, leaned back in his seat. “Katniss, Giselle is a different kind of player in this game. She's got the Capitol's ear, but she's not like her grandfather. Only a few people can see it. She’s soft. She's not in it just for the spectacle.”

Peeta, joining the conversation, inquired, “Why is she so important to them?”

Haymitch, with a cynical smile, explained, “She's family. President Snow's granddaughter. But Giselle's got a mind of her own. She plays the Capitol's game, but she's rewriting the rules in her own way.”

Katniss, processing this information, murmured, “She's a puzzle. I can't figure out where her loyalties truly lie.”

Haymitch, with a knowing glint in his eyes, concluded, “Giselle is playing a dangerous game. She's a key player in the Capitol's politics, and yet, she's the wild card they can't control. Keep an eye on her, Katniss. She might just be the ally we didn't know we needed.”

As the train sped towards the next district, Katniss contemplated the enigma that was Giselle Snow. In the intricate dance of power within the Capitol, Giselle stood at the nexus – a figure of importance, yet a puzzle of contradictions that could potentially sway the tides of Panem's destiny.

The day had been a symphony of forced smiles and scripted words for Giselle as she played her part, maintaining the Capitol's facade during her interactions with the District 4 residents. They, perceptive and resilient, recognized the act she put on, their eyes reflecting the stark contrast between the Capitol's expectations and Giselle's true self.

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, Giselle, free from the watchful eyes of the Capitol, found herself walking along the shoreline towards her living chambers. The weight of the day's performance bore heavily on her shoulders, and the facade she wore to protect herself from the Capitol's scrutiny started to crumble.

When she thought she was alone, the mask fell away. Giselle's composed demeanor shattered, and tears welled in her eyes as she allowed herself to feel the weight of the charade she was forced to maintain. The sea, a silent witness, echoed the turmoil within her.

Unbeknownst to Giselle, Finnick, having sensed her distress, followed discreetly. As she walked with heavy steps, shoulders slumped, he approached her cautiously. "Giselle?"

She turned, her eyes red from unshed tears. In that moment, the District 4 people's recognition of her act became inconsequential as Finnick saw the vulnerability that lay beneath.

Without a word, Finnick pulled her into an embrace, allowing her to release the pent-up emotions that the Capitol demanded she suppress. Giselle, in the safety of his arms, felt a cathartic release, the weight of expectations momentarily lifted.

Finnick spoke softly, "You don't have to be what they want you to be. Not here."

Giselle, her voice choked with emotion, whispered, "I'm so tired of pretending. I just want to be myself."

Finnick, understanding her struggle, gently wiped away her tears. "Then be yourself, Giselle. District 4 sees you, not the Capitol puppet."

In that vulnerable moment, Giselle found solace in Finnick's presence. She looked up at him, her eyes searching for understanding. "Stay with me tonight, Finnick. I don't want to be alone."

He nodded, wordlessly conveying his willingness to offer comfort. As they walked towards her living chambers, the sea whispered its approval of the genuine connection blossoming between them.

In the quietude of Giselle's chambers, Finnick's presence became a beacon of solace. As they stood facing each other, the unspoken understanding lingered in the air. Giselle, overcome by a surge of emotions, pressed her lips against Finnick's in a tender, yet passionate, kiss – a culmination of shared vulnerabilities and the promise of an authentic connection that transcended the constraints of their worlds.

As Giselle and Finnick sat in the quietude of her living chambers, the topic of conversation naturally drifted towards the world they inhabited, the Capitol's machinations, and the recent victors, Katniss and Peeta. The evening air held a certain weight, a prelude to the impending announcement of the 75th Hunger Games.

Giselle, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon, spoke with a contemplative tone. "Katniss and Peeta changed something, didn't they? There's a shift in the air, something different about this time."

Finnick, leaning against the wall, nodded in agreement. "They defied the Capitol in a way no one expected. Katniss especially, she sparked something in the districts."

A subtle tension enveloped the room as they discussed the changing dynamics of Panem. Giselle, though intrigued by the possibility of change, couldn't shake the underlying fear that accompanied it. “It's different, Finnick. I can feel it. But that uncertainty scares me.”

He looked at her, his expression mirroring a mix of understanding and concern. “Change is always unsettling, especially when you're part of a system that thrives on control. But maybe that's what we need – a shift in the balance of power.”

As they delved deeper into their reflections on the world outside, the conversation shifted towards the impending announcement of the 75th Hunger Games – the dreaded Quarter Quell. Unbeknownst to them, the Capitol's plans for this edition had taken a dark turn, but in their isolation from Capitol whispers, Giselle and Finnick remained oblivious.

Giselle's voice carried a hint of apprehension. "The 75th Hunger Games... I can't shake the feeling that it's going to be different, that the Capitol will respond to the defiance with even more brutality."

Finnick's gaze bore into hers, a shared concern etched on his features. "Whatever happens, Giselle, we'll face it together. We can't let fear dictate our actions."

Little did they know that the impending Quarter Quell would hold a cruel twist, and the world they thought they understood would be upended. In their unity against an uncertain future, Giselle and Finnick found strength, unaware of the storm that awaited them in the Capitol's machinations.

Amidst the coastal backdrop of District 4, Giselle and Finnick found a stolen moment of respite from the weight of their respective worlds. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of gold and pink across the sky, and the rhythmic sound of waves provided a soothing melody to the evening.

Finnick, ever the charmer, flashed a playful grin at Giselle. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be the granddaughter of the big bad Snow, you're surprisingly good company."

Giselle chuckled, a genuine sound that danced in the twilight air. "And for someone known for charming everyone in the Capitol, you're not as insufferable as I thought."

They strolled along the shoreline, the wet sand cool beneath their feet. Finnick couldn't resist the temptation to be a bit cheeky. "Well, it seems the Capitol's reputation doesn't quite match reality, does it?"

Giselle glanced at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. "Maybe I'm just an exception."

Finnick raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Oh, an exception, huh? I thought I had a monopoly on charm."

She nudged him playfully. "You do, but I can appreciate it without falling for it."

Under the soft glow of district lights, Giselle and Finnick found a moment of solace amidst the tumultuous world around them. The night air carried a gentle breeze that played with Giselle's raven tendrils as she stood by the shore, looking out at the tranquil sea.

Finnick approached with that effortless charm that had become his trademark. "You know," he began, a playful glint in his sea-green eyes, "I heard once that the sea has a way of washing away all worries. Want to give it a try?"

Giselle smiled, charmed by the lightheartedness of the suggestion. "Are you suggesting a midnight swim, Finnick Odair?"

Finnick grinned, his charm radiating like the moonlight reflecting on the water. "Maybe. Or maybe just a stroll along the beach with the most captivating woman in District 4."

The compliment caught Giselle off guard, and she chuckled softly. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Odair."

As they walked along the shoreline, the laughter flowed freely, unburdened by the weight of their respective roles. They shared a lighthearted moment that defied the gravity of their worlds. In that fleeting instant, the distinctions between Capitol and District, Snow and Odair, faded away, leaving only the simplicity of two people drawn together by a connection that transcended their origins.

Finnick, ever the charmer, couldn't resist teasing. "You know, Giselle, I've been trying to figure out if the sea is more unpredictable or you."

Giselle rolled her eyes playfully. “Excuse me. You mean whether it is the sea or you! I'd say the sea and the Finnick Odair are two of the same thing.”

Finnick Odair, much like the sea, possessed an unpredictable allure that drew people into his depths. With his sun-kissed hair and sea-green eyes, he mirrored the colors of the ocean on a calm day. His laughter echos like the soothing rhythm of waves, lulling those around him into a sense of comfort.

Yet, beneath the surface, there was a wild and untamed quality to Finnick, akin to the unpredictability of the sea during a storm. His charm, like the ebb and flow of the tide, could be both gentle and tumultuous. Just as the sea held secrets in its depths, Finnick concealed layers of complexity beneath his charismatic exterior.

In his presence, one could sense the vastness of experiences he carried, much like the sea carrying the whispers of distant shores. Finnick was magnetic, drawing people toward him with the gravitational force of the tide, and, just like the sea, he held the power to leave an indelible mark on those who dared to explore the depths of his soul.

They continued their stroll, the sound of waves providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. In that fleeting moment, romance hung in the air like a delicate fragrance, and the barriers that divided them seemed to dissolve, leaving only the shared warmth of newfound connection.

Under the moonlit sky, Giselle and Finnick found themselves drawn to the edge of the sea, the rhythmic sounds of the waves creating a natural melody. The air was filled with a sense of anticipation, and the moon cast a silver sheen on the water, inviting them to immerse themselves in the beauty of the night.

Finnick, always one for spontaneity, flashed a mischievous grin. "Ever swum under the stars, Giselle?"

She couldn't help but smile in return, captivated by the allure of the moment. "Can't say that I have, Finnick."

Without another word, Finnick began to unbutton his shirt, revealing the sculpted lines of his physique. Giselle watched, her heart quickening, as he kicked off his shoes and waded into the water. The cool embrace of the sea welcomed him, and he turned to Giselle with an outstretched hand.

"Care to join me?" he invited, his eyes sparkling with a combination of playfulness and something deeper.

Giselle, feeling a rush of excitement, kicked off her shoes and shed her outer layers, leaving herself in the simplicity of undergarments and joined him in the water. The sea was surprisingly warm, and the cool night air created a contrast that heightened their senses. They swam side by side, the moonlight casting shimmering reflections on the surface.

The soft glow highlighted the curves that adorned Giselle’s figure, a significance to her resilience and undeniable beauty. As Finnick looked at her, he found himself captivated by the authenticity of her form—no pretense, just the raw elegance of a woman comfortable in her own skin.

Drawn by an irresistible pull, Finnick pulled her into the sea, his arms enveloping her as he whispered, "You're beautiful, Giselle." In that moment, the waves carried away any insecurities, leaving only the genuine connection between two souls discovering the depth of their attraction amidst the tranquil dance of the water.

As they floated, Giselle's laughter echoed in the night. Finnick, captivated by the genuine joy on her face, couldn't resist the urge to draw her closer. Their laughter turned into shared whispers, secrets exchanged in the intimate embrace of the sea.

With a tender touch, Finnick brushed a strand of wet hair away from Giselle's face. "You know," he murmured, his voice a soft caress, "I've never felt more alive than in this moment."

Giselle, gazing into his sea-green eyes, felt a warmth spread through her. The world around them disappeared, leaving only the two of them suspended in time. The midnight swim became a dance of connection, the sea bearing witness to a romance that blossomed under the stars.

The soft glow of the television illuminated Finnick's cozy home in District 4 as Giselle sat on the couch wearing one of Finnick's shirts, a subtle intimacy that went unnoticed by the world. He, shirtless and in sweatpants, joined her, and they found themselves nestled in each other's arms, a silent comfort that transcended the Capitol's expectations.

As they tuned into the Capitol broadcast, the charismatic Caesar Flickerman appeared on the screen, announcing the engagement of Katniss and Peeta. Giselle watched with a certain detachment, knowing the public facade all too well.

Finnick, leaning back against the couch, scoffed at the display of affection. "You really think they're in love, Giselle? It's all for the cameras. A survival tactic."

Giselle, tracing idle patterns on Finnick's chest, defended, "Survival is different for everyone, Finnick. Katniss and Peeta are just doing what they need to. It doesn't mean their feelings aren't genuine."

Finnick, a hint of bitterness in his voice, countered, “Genuine? In the Capitol, everything's a game. Love, loyalty, it's all just a show for them.”

Giselle, looking into his sea-green eyes, insisted, “Not everyone is playing the Capitol's game the same way. Katniss and Peeta have faced unimaginable challenges. Their love, even if it's a performance, is a form of resistance.”

Finnick, his skepticism apparent, remarked, “Resistance or not, I've seen enough lies in the Capitol to doubt anything genuine. It's all a charade, Giselle.”

She sighed, understanding the jaded perspective he had acquired in the Capitol. “We're all navigating this world in our own way, Finnick. Sometimes survival means playing along, even if it feels like you're compromising yourself.”

As they continued watching the televised spectacle, the weight of their shared secrets and unspoken connection hung in the air. In the quiet of Finnick's home, Giselle and Finnick found solace in each other, aware that their bond, hidden from the public eye, was a refuge in a world where survival demanded more than just physical strength.

In the midst of their argument about Katniss and Peeta's engagement, a sudden tension gripped the air. Giselle, her gaze fixed on the television screen, questioned with a hint of vulnerability, “Is this just a game for us too, Finnick?”

Finnick, caught off guard, faltered for a moment. The weight of unspoken truths lingered in the room, and in that awkward silence, Giselle withdrew from his embrace. She rose to her feet, slipping out of the oversized shirt she had worn, and began to dress in her own clothes.

Finnick, a conflicted expression on his face, didn't offer any immediate reassurance. The realization that their connection, as genuine as it felt, could be perceived as a game unsettled the usually composed victor.

Giselle, finishing the task of dressing, looked at him with a mix of hurt and disappointment. “I thought we were different, Finnick.”

He hesitated, the words caught in his throat, but before he could respond, Giselle turned and left his house. The door closed with a quiet finality, leaving Finnick alone in the dimly lit room.

For a moment, he stood there, contemplating the weight of their unspoken relationship. The Capitol's influence, the games they played, the blurred lines of genuine emotion – it all swirled in his mind, leaving him conflicted.

As Giselle walked away from Finnick's home, a cloud of negativity hung over her. The vulnerability she had shared seemed to echo in the emptiness of the night. Surrounded by the district's tranquility, she couldn't shake the feeling that even what they had could be seen as part of the Capitol's intricate game.

Finnick, though torn, remained in his home, unable to chase after her. The complexities of their unspoken connection weighed heavily on both of them, leaving the lingering question of whether they were just players in a game where the rules were set by the Capitol, or if there was something genuine beneath the surface.

In the quiet hours of the night, Giselle wandered through the corridors of District 4's Victor Village, the dimly lit streets amplifying the silence that surrounded her. Despite the grandeur of her position as President Snow's granddaughter, a profound loneliness clung to her like a shadow.

She had no true friends, nobody to share the burdens and secrets she carried. The Capitol's intricate web of politics and power had woven her into a position of influence, yet it left her isolated, a puppet without genuine connections.

As Giselle passed the lavish houses of fellow victors, she couldn't help but feel like an outsider. The laughter and camaraderie that echoed through the Victor Village seemed distant, a melody she couldn't quite join.

Her role in the Capitol, the expectations of her family, and the weight of her responsibilities had left her with no confidantes. The residents of the district admired her, but their adoration was a facade, a reflection of the Capitol's influence rather than a testament to genuine companionship.

Even her complex connection with Finnick, the one person who seemed to understand her in the midst of the Capitol's complexities, added to the isolation. Their unspoken bond, though filled with a unique intimacy, couldn't fully bridge the gap between the roles they played in the Capitol's political theater.

The emptiness she felt was a heavy burden, a silent ache that accompanied her in the solitude of her grand home. The walls, adorned with opulence, seemed to close in on her, amplifying the profound isolation she carried.

As Giselle gazed out at the moonlit sea, the waves crashing against the shore mirrored the tumult within her. Despite the Capitol's attempts to mold her into a figurehead of influence, she yearned for genuine connections, for someone to see beyond the political games and acknowledge the vulnerability beneath her poised exterior.

In the absence of true friendships, Giselle navigated the Capitol's corridors like a ghost, always present yet hauntingly alone. The silence that enveloped her became a constant companion, a stark reminder of the isolation that accompanied her status. Even in the midst of her complex connection with Finnick, the genuine connection she sought remained elusive, leaving her to grapple with the weight of her existence in the Capitol's unforgiving embrace.

[denwritesandcries]

Masterlist

You can find all my posted works here and also in their character tags!

BOTTOMS

Hazel Callahan

Love, Hate and No Relationship: Hazel Callahan hates you and you have no idea why. Now, this wouldn't be such a problem if it weren't for the fact that you're in love with her.

Work of Art: You join a fight club just to spend more time with your pretty friend, Hazel Callahan. The fact that you're running out of time to finish an art project is just a detail.

Hold to my Hand : You might be a little – completely – obsessed with your girlfriend's hands and apparently she enjoys that a lot.

YELLOWJACKETS

Shauna Shipman

Heart Stealer: In which Shauna Shipman steals not only your favorite pen during class, but your heart too.

Lottie Matthews

Nat Scatorccio

Call me Yours: You're in a closet with Natalie Scatorccio. How ironic. NSFW

Van Palmer

Like a Movie Scene: Van Palmer should come with a warning sign, she invades your life with her crooked smiles and stupid jokes and draws you into her orbit without even asking for permission, as if it were something destined to happen. Which, you assume, it probably is.

Misty Quigley

Jackie Taylor

Taissa Turner

Multi!Yellowjackets

YJS body type HCs

The Wilderness Wants Us To (Kiss): Have you ever experienced all kinds of weirdness since the plane crashed months ago, so why the weirdest thing so far is it seems like all the girls are suddenly courting you?  Or, a series of kisses between you and your dear football team.

SCREAM

Sam Carpenter

Hug me Tighter: You’re only trying to make your girlfriend take a nap with you, the fact that it’s in a hospital bed after one of the worst nights of your lives doesn't really matter.

Tara Carpenter

Take a Breath (and kiss me): Your girlfriend Tara gets a little clingy when she realizes you haven't kissed her properly in days.

Sleepy!Tara Carpenter HCs

[jaidens]

LOVING HIM WAS RED.

REQUEST PAGE FOR : EPISODE : RED - TAYLOR SWIFT. [ 9 | 22 | 23 — 10 | 6 | 23 ]

RULES FOR REQUESTING —

i am not taking any smut requests at this moment; your request can only be under these circumstances.

• fluff : cuddling, kissing, and ‘sleeping together’ are underneath this category!

• angst : break-ups, arguments, and other upsetting topics are underneath this category!

REQUESTS !

Side A

1. State Of Grace (Taylor's Version)

2. Red (Taylor's Version) [SAM WINCHESTER.]

3. Treacherous (Taylor's Version)

4. I Knew You Were Trouble (Taylor's Version)

Side B

1. All Too Well (Taylor's Version)

2. 22 (Taylor's Version)

3. I Almost Do (Taylor's Version)

4. We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together (Taylor's Version)

Side A

1. Stay Stay Stay (Taylor's Version)

2. The Last Time (Taylor's Version)

3. Holy Ground (Taylor's Version)

4. Sad Beautiful Tragic (Taylor's Version)

Side B

1. The Lucky One (Taylor's Version)

2. Everything Has Changed (Taylor's Version)

3. Starlight (Taylor's Version)

4. Begin Again (Taylor's Version)

Side A

1. The Moment I Knew (Taylor's Version)

2. Come Back...Be Here (Taylor's Version)

3. Girl At Home (Taylor's Version)

4. State Of Grace (Acoustic Version) (Taylor's Version)

Side B

1. Better Man (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

2. Nothing New (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

3. Babe (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

Side A

1. Message In A Bottle (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

2. I Bet You Think About Me (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

3. Forever Winter (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

4. Run (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

Side B

1. The Very First Night (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

2. All Too Well (10 Minute Version) (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

FOR THE [ 2 WEEKS ] THIS REQUESTING PAGE IS OPEN, MY INBOX IS OPEN.

AFTER THESE TWO WEEKS [ OCTOBER SEVENTH OF TWENTY TWENTY-THREE ] THE PAGE WILL BE : FOLKLORE + EVERMORE!

🧣 — i bet you think about me !

[pinkiebieberpie]

i thought, "heaven can't help me now" .⁠｡⁠*⁠♡✧⁠*∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° nothing lasts forever, but this is gonna take me down •⁠ᴗ✧⁠*｡⁠•⁠ ｡⁠☆ he's so tall and handsome as hell

sam winchester moodboard || supernatural masterlist

++ tagging my sun ☀️ @ghostlyfleur

[fuiabarcelos]

Supernatural (Taylor’s version)

Hello hunters and Swifties!

I love reading supernatural stories inspired by songs and I'm addicted to Taylor Swift, so I decided to recommend stories inspired by her songs.

If I find more stories I might think about doing a part 2 or an update.

1 - Speak Now: By @darling-i-read-it

“Based on the song speak now”

Info: One shot - 1100 Words

Warnings: “Hexing being a bad thing, weddings, Fluff.” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Speak Now.

2 - Speak Now: By @bi-bard

“(Season 7, Episode 8) During a trip that was meant to be a vacation, (Y/n) and Dean are met with some very surprising new from Sam and an old face.”

The author didn't say if it's really inspired by taylor's song, I just deduced that it was. If I'm wrong, I'm sorry.

Info: One shot - 1695 Words.

Warnings: “Drugging, threats of violence” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Speak Now.

3 - When I saw your face: By @seriesxwriting

The story of how enchanted it was to meet Sam Winchester.

Info: One shot - 2069 Words.

Warnings: “Drinking, swearing?” - Warnings described by the creator.

Song: Enchanted.

4 - I Remember it All Too Well: By @bi-bard

“The story of the two hunters that lasted far longer than they should’ve. Each chapter shows that Sam and (Y/n) were either meant to last a lifetime or fall apart at the seams. (I used season 11 as a reference for ages)”

Info: One shot - 4905 Words.

Warnings: “Break-up, unhealthy relationship, arguing, cussing, I made Sam a terrible person and I'm not sorry about it.”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: All too well (10 minute version).

5 - All You Had to do Was Stay: By @hellooo-tricksters

“When Sam jumped into the pit, you were devastated, you thought you would never get him back. Then he returns and he is not who he used to be, he is rude, aggressive and cheats on you. He goes, and after a year he returns at your door.”

Info: One shot -  2172 Words.

Warnings: “Swearing, a little angst and maybe a little fluff too.”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: All you had to do was stay. 

6 -  How You Get the Girl:  By @hellooo-tricksters

“ It has been 6 months since you’ve last seen Sam. And now he decides to show up? “

Info: One shot - 1627 Words.

Warnings: “Swearing, smut if you squint I think…”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: How You get the girl.

7 - Welcome to New York: By @d-s-winchester

An AU series, where each chapter is inspired by a song from the album 1989.

Info: Series - 13 Chapters. 

Warnings: “Angst, drinking, language, smut sorta” (Most of the chapters have no warning.)  Warnings described by the creator.

Songs: Welcome to New York, Blank space, Style, Out of the Woods, All You Had To Do Was Stay, Shake it off, I Wish You Would, Bad blood, Wildest Dreams, How You Get The Girl, This Love, I Know Places and Clean.

8 - Gorgeous: By @justagirlinafandomworld

“Sam Winchester ruined your life. And he might know it.”

Info: Drabble - 100 words.

Warnings: “Secondhand embarrassment probably. Maybe feel a little called out?”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Gorgeous.

9 - Paper rings: By @bi-bard

“(Season 12) After everything happened with the British Men of Letters and the return of Mary Winchester, Sam does a lot of thinking about his future. Specifically, his future with his partner.”

The author didn't say if it's really inspired by taylor's song, I just deduced that it was. If I'm wrong, I'm sorry.

Info: Drabble - 983 Words.

Warnings: “Mentions of torture” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Paper rings.

10 -  The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me: By @bi-bard

“(Season 7) Sam had been struggling since he had come back from the cage. As his condition worsens, (Y/n) tries everything to help him.”

Info:  Drabble - 746 Words

Warnings: “hallucinations, past trauma”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Peace.

11 - Look at this idiotic fool that you made me: By @bi-bard

“(Y/n) finally puts their foot down with Sam. Sam trips over it.”

Info: Drabble - 787 Words

Warnings: “mentions of sex”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: illicit affairs

1 -  Head First, Fearless: By @swiftlymoniquesblog

“ “But you’re just so cool, run your hands through your hair, absent mindedly makin’ me want you” from Fearless by Taylor Swift!”

Info: One shot - 2048 Words

Warnings: All the fluff!  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Fearless.

2 - Enchanted:  By @d-s-winchester

“All I can say is I was, Enchanted to meet you”

Info: One shot - 1428 Words.

Warnings: “Language, fluff” - Warnings described by the creator.

Song: Enchanted.

3 - Speak now:  By @d-s-winchester​

“Speak now or forever hold your peace”

Info: One shot - 1305 Words.

Warnings: “None.” - Warnings described by the creator.

Song: Speak Now.

4 - Red:   By @d-s-winchester

“Missing him was dark gray, all alone”

Info: One shot -1048 Words

Warnings: “Sadness, heartbreak, death, dealing with death” - Warnings described by the creator.

Song: Red.

5 - All to well: By @the-winchester-pie​

Info: One shot - 2071 Words

Warnings: Angst?

Song: All too well. 

6 -  I’d Say I Love You Even at Your Darkest: By @bi-bard

“Doubt and guilt creeps in and convinces Dean to run for the hills. (Y/n) refuses to let Dean believe that they would ever be happier without him.”

Info: One shot - 1838 Words.

Warnings: “Self-doubt, arguing, cussing”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Forever winter.

7 - Style:  By @hellooo-tricksters

“Dean and the reader are in a no strings attached relationship since they met on a hunt. It passionate, steamy and complicated, but they keep returning on the same path, not matter which road they take.”

Info: One shot - 1869 Words.

Warnings: “Slight smut, mainly mentioning of it, maybe swearing, cheating?”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator. 

Song: Style.  

8 -  Dorothea: By @imaginestuffs

“Dean “doesn’t like” your music, or so he says.”

Info: Drabble - 913 Words.

Warnings: “ A few curse words I believe, and fluff!!”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Dorothea.

9 - Bloodmoonlit: By @moonlightspencie

“ Six years of friendship with more simmering beneath the surface. They thought they had no chance (but that’s romance).”

Info: One shot - 5400 Words.  

Warnings: “Drinking (a lot of it tbh), both of em being massive dorks, 18+ pls bc it gets mildly spicy at the end.”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Glitch.

1 -  I'll Let You In: By @bi-bard

“(Season 7 + 9) After gaining his memory back, Castiel has to leave to go help the Winchesters. (Y/n) promises to leave the door open to him. They weren’t expecting him to actually come back.”

Info: One shot - 2490 Words.

Warnings: “Mentions of death”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: That’s When.

2 - Shake it off: By @kaz2y5-imagines

Dean and Sam find you and Castiel dancing "Shake it off" in the bunker.

Info: One shot - 1696 Words.

Warnings: None?

Song: Shake it off.

3 - Bad blood:  By @hellooo-tricksters

“Castiel finds the reader after they broke up 3 months ago. It was ugly, hard and painful, but now, now she works for Crowley. She’s a demon and she’s got all the right ways to show him what he did to her. He’ll pay.”

Info: One shot - 1439 Words.

Warnings: “Swearing, torture...slightly… Demon!Reader”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Bad blood.

 4 - My lover:  By @swiftlymoniquesblog

Info: Drabble - 574 Words.

Warnings: Fluff, slight mention of relationship doubts

Song: Lover.

5 -  I'm setting off, but not without my muse: By @bi-bard

“ Monsters are known for terrifying people. Some monsters even scare themselves.”

Info: One shot - 1575 Words. 

Warnings: “Character death, angst, suicide (seriously, read with caution)”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: The lakes.

6 -  And if I didn't know better, I'd think you were talking to me now: By @bi-bard​

“ (Y/n) had grown up with the Winchesters, but Castiel was the one who really took on a father role over the years. (Y/n) has to cope with losing him and having someone else claim to be his kid.”

Info: Drabble - 866 words

Warnings: “Mentions of death, grieving, Child!Reader”  - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Marjorie.

7 - Safe and sound:  By @d-s-winchester

Info: One shot - 1231 Words.

Warnings: None  - Warnings described by the creator.

Song: Safe and sound.

If you guys know of more supernatural stories inspired by taylow swift songs, let me know as I might put them in part 2/update.

Enjoy the stories!

To the writers: You are amazing!

[xspeter]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 1

𐬺 ➾ 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑚！𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𐬺 ➾ 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒏 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒔𝒖𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒆, 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

𐬺 ➾ 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑘𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡！

There’s something so calming about autumn in New York.

Everyone is calming down from their summer adventures, central park is littered in decorative leaves, and every shop in town is decorated for the season.

You take a deep breath and are met with the warm smell of pumpkin as you enter the local coffee shop. The barista, who must know your order by heart at this point, greets you with a warm and welcoming smile.

You thank the woman briskly as she hands you your coffee, the warmth immediately filling your cold hands as you grab it.

You take a sip of your drink as you leave. As soon as you step onto the sidewalk you’re met with the sound of children laughing, and you glance towards the noise. You’re met with the sight of two children walking to school, one boy and one girl. Your heart pangs a bit at the nostalgia the sight gives you.

No matter how much you try to forget him, you know he’ll always be there. Like a moth to a flame, your thoughts will always eventually lead back to him- to Dean.

The way things ended between the two of you was no one’s fault, it was just a struck of fate that things had to end the way they did. You both wanted different things out of life. He wanted to stay on the road and fulfill his fathers legacy, and you.. well you wanted more.

You wanted an actual job, a stable life, kids, marriage…

Well, more like you wanted all that with him.

When you finally worked up the courage to express these thoughts to Dean, he had thought you were joking.

“What do you mean?” He asked, his warm hands creeping into your own cold ones.

You sniffled, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear, you explained more in depth. “I don’t want this life anymore, Dean. We don’t even have a real home. We’re constantly in different hotels, I don’t have any friends- no money- no nothing! I just want… I want a stable life for both of us. Do you really want to live like this for the rest of your life?”

Dean was silent for a moment, his pupils dialting in shock as he processes what you’ve said. What you’ve admitted to him.

In all the years he’s known you, which is a lot, Dean has never heard you express these thoughts.

“What’s gotten into you, y/n? You’ve never said anything about this before. I mean- since when did you want such a simple, boring life? I mean, what? You’re just gonna go live day to day just waiting to die? Because that’s what everyone else in this world does. We’re lucky! We get to have adventure. We don’t have to just sit down at some boring desk job with the rest of our lives laid out in front of us.” He said hurriedly, his breathing beginning to become erratic.

You bit your lip, “What if.. What if that is what I want, Dean?”

Dean stiffened, his hands instinctively going into his jacket pockets.

“Then I guess this is where we say goodbye.”

You quickly push the memory in the back of your mind, instead deciding to continue on your journey to work.

Of course you often wonder where Dean is and what he’s doing. Last you heard he was on his way to Stanford to pick up his brother, but that was seven months ago.

Sam, his brother, had the same idea as you. He wanted a different life, something without all the danger and unpredictability.

You know it hurt Dean when Sam left, but he still had his dad. And you think a part of him always knew Sam was different from the two of them. Even when you were growing up with the boys you could tell. Sam was more reserved, smarter. Where as Dean and his father were more adventurous, constantly looking for danger where danger shouldn’t be.

You feel a sense of relief as you enter your work building, happy to finally escape from the cold.

Dean knows there’s no possible way he’ll see you. New York is a big city, what’re the chances he’ll see you of all people?

“You okay?” Sam asks, placing a hand on his shoulder. Dean turns his head to look at him and goes he’s a nervous smile. “Yeah.”

Sam nods, obviously not believing him.

So much has happened since you left. Sam joined him on the road to find his father and also got powers, they found the demon who murdered their mother, and Dean would have died if his father hadn’t given his life for him.

So, yeah. A whole new bowl of trauma.

“You nervous you’ll see her?” Sam asks. Sam hasn’t seen you since he left home for Stanford, but he knows you leaving really hurt Dean.

Dean scoffs, “No.”

Sam just smiles, “Of course you’re not.”

“I’m really not.”

“It’s okay if you are-”

“I’m not!” Dean yells.

Sam puts both hands up in surrender, turning to continue putting his stuff in the drawers of their motel.

Dean sighs and rubs his temple. Of course he’s nervous he’ll see you. He just wishes things could still be how they were, when the nerves in his tummy were for a different reason.

Deans stomach flutters with butterflies as he knocks on your door. He grips the flowers so tightly his knuckles begin to turn white.

The door opens with a click and he’s met with the gentle, smiling face of your mother. “Hello, Dean.” She says cheekily. Dean laughs nervously, “Hello, ma’am.” He says, his accent slipping out a bit.

“She’ll be down here soon. Why don’t you have a seat while you wait?” She asks, leading the younger boy inside. Dean swallows as he takes a seat, careful to smooth down any wrinkles in his suit jacket.

“You look very handsome.” Your mother says, and Dean thanks her with a smile as she retreats up the stairs, most likely going to tell you that he’s arrived.

Dean fiddles with the pink flowers in his hands. Who would’ve thought going to prom with your long-time crush would be more nerve wracking then hunting monsters?

Dean practically shoots out of his seat once he hears the click of your heels down the stairs. Slowly, he watches you emerge. Your hair is down, and your wearing a beautiful flowing blue dress. You look like a princess.

“You look.. Wow.” Dean stammers, and you giggle, a dark pink coating your cheeks as your eyes sparkle up at him.

“You really think so?” You ask.

“I know so.”

“Are you ready to go?” Sam asks, pulling Dean away from the memory. Dean stands, rubbing his hands on his pants and rolling his neck.

“Yeah.”

Dean throws his head back against the leather seat with a groan. He forgot New York traffic was practically hell on earth.

“Well this sucks.” Sam sighs out annoyed.

“Give me a run down of the case again?” Dean asks Sam. Sam opens his notebook and skims over the details for Dean.

“Uh, women in their late 20’s are going missing off the subway. Usually y/h/c, y/e/c…” Sam swallows when he realizes who the description reminds him of.

Dean squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re positive?”

“I sure as hell wish I wasn’t.”

Your nose and cheeks are flushed a bright red by the time you get to the subway. Your hair blows against your face harshly as the train wizzes past, the crowds of people around you all pushing to get to where they’re going.

You used to feel overwhelmed in the subway, all the people and the constant rush of the train, but now you can positively say you’re an expert at navigating the underground station.

You push your hair behind you ear to prevent it from blowing in your face again, and out of the corner of your eye your positive you see someone eerily similar. Your head snaps in the direction, but instead of seeing him, you see no one. Suddenly your aware of how quickly the station has emptied. Leaving you and and just a few others.

You rub your eyes and try to ignore the fact that you’re starting to see things. You hadn’t done something like that in months- it must’ve been that memory from earlier.

Before you can think too much about it though, your subway arrives and the doors are opened. A cascade of people in all sorts of attire step out, and you push your way past them and step in.

Very few people are on your cart, with only a young couple sitting a few seats down from you. You try to assure yourself and assume it’s because of the late hour, but no… that wouldn’t be right, would it? It’s rush hour.

A sinking feeling in your stomach starts as you begin to put some of the pieces together.

Something paranormal had to be happening. Or were you just being paranoid?

You had hunted for just as long as Dean, your parents raising you just as Deans father had raised his boys. You knew the signs, but there was no way that’s what was happening here right?

The train stops once more and the couple gets off, and now you’re alone.

You take a deep breath and try to calm your nerves, you fists clenching and unclenching. You do your best to ignore the creaking of the train, or the way the lights begin to flicker.

A rotten smell fills your nose, and your now absolutely positive that something not natural is happening.

You reach into your purse to see if there’s anything at all that could help you, but stupidly you’d thrown out any and all weapons except for some pepper spray back when you’d first moved.

The air around you starts to feel suffocating as a black smoke begins to seep through the vents and any cracks it can, your eyes go wide as you start to panic.

The only thing you can think to do is chant an ancient protection spell under your breath, hoping that would drive the thing off at least for a second.

The smoke eventually meets in the middle, coming together to form a shadow of a man. There’s no definitive features- just dark, black, smoke.

It turns it’s head to stare straight at you, and you quickly bolt for an emergency stop or a door or- or anything really.

The smoke stretches it’s arms though, it wraps itself around your body like a snake as it engulfs all your senses. It goes into your nose and covers your eyes until all you can see is black. You begin to panic swatting and punching at what feels like an invisible force.

Suddenly- the blackness is lifted. You begin to stumble and almost fall, but someone is there to catch you.

You know who it is before you even turn around. You had dreamed about being held by these arms again for months.

“Dean..” You whisper, finding your standing and slowly turning to face him.

“It’s me, baby.”

“So there’s some entity that’s coming after women who look like me?” You ask, fiddling with your thumbs. Sam and Dean had filled you in on everything that’s happened in the few months you’ve been gone. It hurts your head that you weren’t there for them when they lost their father- but there was no way you could’ve known.

Sam nods his head, “Pretty much.”

You furrow your brows, brining your hand to your lips and beginning to nibble on your nails. A nervous habit. “Do you know what it is?”

Sam shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, “No. That was the first time we’d ever saw the thing.”

You sigh, running a hand down your face, “Amazing.”

You glance at Dean. He hasn’t said much of anything since they saved you, and his silence is putting you on edge.

Sam must notice the tension between you and Dean, because he stands and leaves with a smile and an excuse of going out for some food.

Once you and Dean are left alone, things are even more awkward. You continue to take glances at him, and if he notices he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stares at the table and fiddles with his thumbs.

“Dean…” You start, finally working up the courage to break the silence, but his position doesn’t change. You take a breath, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

He shrugs his shoulders, finally looking at you for the first time since he saved you. “Wasn’t your fault.” He mumbles.

You sigh, you feel the familiar build up of tears in your eyes and you place your head in your hands. Your hair falls around your face creating a curtain around you.

“I know that.” You sigh, “I just… I just wish I could’ve been here.”

Dean scoffs, he pushes his chair out from under him with a screech as he stands to his full height. “You could’ve been here, y/n! But you chose to leave- you chose to leave me and our relationship and for what? So- so you could be hunted by monsters?” He rambles.

You sigh, you expected this would happen, just not so soon. “Dean…” You mutter.

For the first time you see just how this last year has effected him. The usual light playfulness was no longer in his eyes, instead there’s a dark sadness you’ve never seen on him before.

“Why did you leave me?” He suddenly asks, “Was I not enough for you? Did I not- Did I not make you happy?”

You shake your head so fast you could’ve gotten whiplash, quickly, you stand next to him and attempt to reach out for him, but he pulls away.

You bite your lip, “You were everything to me. You think it was easy for me to leave? You think I don’t regret it everyday?” You sob, “I just couldn’t live like that anymore Dean! I was lonely and I was sick of constantly putting my life on the line. What’s the issue with just wanting a normal life?”

He rolls his eyes, “Yeah, and being hunted by a demon is normal-“

“That’s not fair.” You say, “You know that’s not fair, Dean.”

Dean sighs and bites his lip, he runs a hand over his face and nods his head, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and sit on the bed. “No. I’m sorry.” You say, “I should’ve… we could’ve kept in contact- or something… We didn’t have to break up. We could’ve gone long distance or-”

Dean sits down next to you and shakes his head softly, his eyebrows furrow and his eyes shine with tears, “No, we couldn’t of. There was no way we could’ve been able to stay together without seeing- feeling each other.”

“We would’ve made it work.” You mumble.

Dean sighs and rests his head in his hand, “We would’ve tried to, yeah, but… we would’ve just been hurting each other so much more.”

You sniffle and nod and pull your knees into your chest. No matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, he was right. The two of you would’ve only ended up hurting each other more in the end.

Slowly, Deans arm creeps around the middle of your back as he pulls you into his chest. You welcome his touch with open arms. The smell of pine cones and bond-fires filling your nostrils is one you’ve missed all too much. You snuggle closer in his hold, finally relaxing once you feel his arm tighten around you.

Hesitantly, you whisper, “I missed you. So much.” You say it so quietly you’re not even sure he heard you- but he did. He kisses the crown of your head and sighs out in relief.

“You have no idea.” He replies.

“You’re positive this’ll work?” You question Sam for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. Sam sighs, annoyance creeping in his tone as he replies, “Yes, i’m positive it’ll work.”

You swallow, “Okay,” You psych yourself up, “So all I gotta do is go in there and be bait?”

Sam nods, he closes his bad with a snap and throws it over his shoulder, “That’s pretty much it.”

Easy enough.

The three of you arrive at the subway station and slowly make your way down, it’s empty because of the late hour, only a few people every now and then.

Dean glances back at you every few seconds, clearly sensing the nervous energy you’re giving off. He slows his pace to match yours, letting Sam take the lead. “You don’t need to be nervous,” He says, “You’re the strongest woman I know. Plus, you’ll actually be able to protect yourself this time in case anything goes wrong.”

Your hand ghosts over the salt gun in your waistband and you reassure yourself. You groan, “I just feel a little… rusty, I guess.”

Dean chuckles, “You? Rusty? Last time I checked my girl is always on her A-game.” He says slyly.

You try to ignore the pink that begins to dust your cheeks as you shrug. The three of you walk in a comfortable silence as you get to the correct station.

Your chest fills with anxiety again, but you just roll your shoulders and push it into the back of your brain.

When the train arrives, the doors open with a swoosh and you enter. You glance back at dean as you do, reminding yourself he’ll just be in the train cart next to yours.

You sit and fiddle with your thumbs, the train cart is completely empty, which makes your anxious body feel even more uneasy. Your body rocks as the subway picks up speed, and you can’t tell if the lights are flickering like they would normally or if it’s because something else is here.

Your question is answered as the smell of something rotten begins to fill your nose, and your reaching for your gun before you can even process.

You have to remind yourself not to blow your cover, and instead take a breath, hoping the demon hadn’t noticed. The black shadow begins to creep into the cart just as it had before, and you mentally prepare yourself for whatever is about to happen.

The creature meets together to form a smokey figure of a man, just as it had before. The man walks towards you, and this time you really reach for your gun.

The man continues to creep closer just as Dean and Sam burst through the doors. Sam begins to chant some kind of prayer at the demon while Dean attempts to shoot at it.

The demon seems to have expected this though, because he continues to get closer to you until you’re eventually face to face.

“De-” You begin, but stop as the demon begins to fill your senses. It enters your nose and mouth, effectively choking you. You fight against it but it’s no use, your hands can’t even touch it.

Your vision goes black, and the last thing you see if Dean reaching for you before you pass out.

“Y/N? Are you awake?” Your vision is foggy as you open your eyes. You can’t make out the man in front of you, but you recognize his voice.

“Dean…?” You whimper out, your voice hoarse. You feel something wet hit your cheek as dean laughs and holds you closer to his chest.

“Yeah baby, it’s me. Thought I- thought I lost you for a second there.” He sniffles out.

You wrap your hands around his neck and pull him to your mouth. Dean ignores his shock and quickly accepts your advances. He kisses you sweet and slow, effectively showing you just how much he’s missed you and your touch these past few months.

When you pull away your met with his smiling face.

“You’ll never lose me,” You whisper, “Never again.”

𐬺 ➾ 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭!

tag list - @fictional-characters-i-love-them

[h0ttestgrlinm0urgu3]

it's the new year so prepare to be sick of me.

🎀🎀🎀

This also means I'm officially taking requests

I have some things in the works

but the time for requests is now☆

what I write

only fem reader

sub reader x character dom reader x character

character x reader x character

~they don't just have to be characters

I like a lot of bimbo and brat stuff you can ask 4 that

🎀

kinks: daddy, mommy, praise, degrading, consensual somno, overstim, voyeurism & or pegging

~not limited to just throwing some out there

🎀

people: Chris evans / steve rodgers, Jacob elordi, Henry cavill /Clark Kent, Dominic fike, Manny Montana / Rio, Jensen ackels, Jacob black, han lue (fast and furious), Sam winchester, Aaron taylor Johnson / Dave lizewski/ tangerine, tasm! Peter parker, Penn Badgley/ Joe goldberg, Spencer reid, Aaron hotchner

🎀

have fun and don't be afraid to add anything to your request

[my-proof-is-you]

Now That We Don’t Talk - Teaser

Coming soon!

Summary: When you started dating Jensen Ackles, things were damn near perfect. You were so compatible, and you fit into his life seamlessly. After Supernatural ended, though, Jensen got a new job. Pretty soon, Jensen also got a new life. And you no longer fit in it.

Jensen x You

Inspired by the song Now That We Don’t Talk by Taylor Swift

Forevers:

@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​  @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007

Deanies/Jensen:

@tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @akshi8278 @weepingwillowphoenix @playingdeep17 @justanotherwinchester @flamencodiva @caligraphee @miufel @lovely-lynns-likes @smokinserious @squirrelnotsam @mother-dearest-loves-me @mrspeacem1nusone @allonsy-yesiwill @jensenackels512 @deandreamernp @siospins @thoughts-and-funnies @440mxs-wife @deandreamernp @love-yourself-first-tfw @siospins @bicowboywuvhugz @muhahaha303