sarah reader


Imagine Being A Student To The Winter Soldier Before The Fall Of Hydra

For @dtescohmi

“(Y/N) loosen your arm when you swing,” he snaps as he catches your punch easily.

“Yes sir,” you say and throw another punch. He lets the punch hit his hand and nods approvingly.

“You’re getting better. Again.” You swig again, and again, and again, until your knuckles bleed.

The Winter Soldier is a strict teacher but he has a soft spot for you. You can’t say why he’s gentler with you but you imagine it’s because you both experience the same mind control.

The other students are loyal to Hydra but you and the Soldier are forced. Hydra took you for your abilities and created the Soldier.

“That’s enough, dismissed,” the Winter Soldier orders in a clipped tone. The rest of the students disperse but you hang back. The Winter Soldier approaches you and the two of you quickly pretend to be practicing.

“When can we speak without ears?” you whisper to him.

“Midnight at my room, there’ll be no guards,” he murmurs. You throw a punch and it hits him in the shoulder.

“I’m getting better,” you say and walk briskly away.


The Winter Soldier and you have been meeting in secret for a year, since the day he saw a Hydra officer beat you for disobeying. You are kindred spirits, the two of you.

Every second with him is a second away from hell and for that you are grateful beyond belief.


“My soldier calls,” you murmur as you nudge open his door. You’ve both memorized the guard rotation and turning of the cameras so you can slip in and out at just the right times.

“And my student answers,” he returns and takes your hand pulling you in and shutting the door softly behind you. His lips are on yours in a second and your fingers tangle in his long hair.

“Say my name, my real name,” he requests. During brief moments of memory he tells you everything so you can whisper it to him on nights like these.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you breathe. “You were a sergeant in the 107th US regiment during the war.”

“And you’re (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N). You were visiting Russia with your father the ambassador, he enlisted you in Hydra to make use of your unique abilities,” he returns and you smile. His flesh hand is cupping your cheek while his metal one holds to your waist. You hold his face in your hands and make sure to maintain a steady gaze.

“You had a scrawny best friend named Steve, you called him punk,” you utter and give him a chaste kiss. “His mothers name was Sarah and he wore newspapers in his shoes.”

“Thank you, I love you.” He pulls you in for a impassioned kiss that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. Only with James do you ever feel emotions besides fear and despair.

“I love you too.”

For a long moment you just hold each other close, sharing a heartbeat and even breathing.

“You have a knack for knowing what others feel and making them feel whatever you could wish,” he adds after a quiet moment. “But you don’t use it unless you’re told because you hate having that much power over another.”

“And you have amazing strength, accuracy, and heightened senses that put you above the rest but you only use them if you’re told because you hate feeling superior.”

“You love me,” he states.

“You love me,” you return.

“And we’ll both never love another,” you both promise at the same time.

Your lips meet once again in fiery sparks and raw emotion.

In the time of Hydra James Buchanan Barnes is your only solace.


A week later James disappears from your base and the last you hear from him is ‘I hope I remember you.’

A week after that Captain America reveals Hydra and destroys most of it but the Winter Soldier vanishes.

You managed to escape during the chaos and vanish yourself.

With your newfound freedom you search for him.


“Allow me to pay,” you interject and hand currency to the vendor. The vendor hands over the goods and the man you’re paying for looks up, staring at you with wide eyes.

It’s James, he’s buying plums of all things. You mod your head and lead him to an alleyway out f sight. He follows wordlessly.

“I am (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) we knew each other in the compound. I told you facts about your life whenever they’d make you forget, and we loved each other.”

“You’re (Y/N), you helped me stay calm during episodes,” he utters. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Imperfect pages

Bodleian reader Sarah Gilbert happened upon some interesting, imperfect pages when examining a manuscript at the Bodleian Libraries. We asked her to write about the experience.

In the medieval period in Western Europe, books were copied by hand onto specially prepared animal skins. The animals used for this purpose in the British Isles were sheep and cows, and in order to turn their pelts into pages these animals would be killed, their blood would be drained, they would be skinned, and then these skins would be soaked and stretched, scraped and dried, and polished and trimmed to make them into usable pages.

Jesus College MS 37, a copy of Iohannus Diaconus’ Vita Sancti Gregorii, is a manuscript with some very unusual pages. A few of its folios preserve faint traces of their animal past in the form of stained blood vessels.

Such stained vessels are very rare - transparent vein structures can sometimes be seen on a manuscript page like contour lines on a map, but to see the vessels still outlined in blood is much more unusual, and is possibly the result of the animals being bled too slowly after they had been killed.

Making parchment was a skilled job and sometimes imperfect pages were used in medieval books simply because the skins, however flawed, were too precious to waste.

As I was reading Jesus College 37 I was very excited to see such an unusual manuscript phenomenon “in the flesh.”

- Sarah Gilbert, Bodleian reader.

Imagine: Dean Watching You Read

Originally posted by poor-sammy-lost-his-shoe

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,000

Warnings: none, just fluff

A/N: HAPPY ALMOST NEW YEAR - have some fluffy Dean!! If you couldn’t tell, I’ve been reading A LOT for the past couple days

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This Can’t be happening

Pairing: Steve Rogers & Readers three year old daughter x Team

Warning: This broke my heart. So I mean good look people. Good luck.

A/N: Heart Break Weekend

@chrisevansthedoritobastard   @holahellohialoha  @almightyunnie @imamotherfuckingstar-lord  @iwillbeinmynest  @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @goodnightwife @irepeldirt  @yourtropegirl  @bellejeunefillesansmerci  @buckyb-avengers  @winterboobaer  @mrhowardstark  @rileyloves5

Originally posted by littlemisssyreid

She grips tightly to her doll as Uncle Clint helps her out of the car seat. He’s fidgeting and his face has that look as if he’s struggling to keep it together. Sarah hold his hand as they walk quickly across the parking lot walking through the big doors Clint’s hand squeezes around her little hand as they reach the desk, they mutter between the two of them the woman behind the counter and Clint, both looking down at Sarah who grips harder on her doll. Clint turns walking faster than Sarah who was struggling to keep up.

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my current read. I actually originally read this when it first came out, but never picked up acomaf and now I’ve forgotten everything that happened in the first book.
I only gave this book 3/5 stars when I first read it, but I’ve come to the realization that I like books by Sarah J. Maas the second time around way more than the first. We’ll see how this goes.


Summary: In order to get the information you need for case, you start to date the owner of an auction house’s daughter. Dean isn’t keen on the idea of you dating anyone else.
Words: 8.5k (plus 2.8k smutty coda- smut can be avoided or read alone)
Dean x Reader, Sam x Jess, brief Sarah x Reader
Warnings: pseudo-infidelity, bi!reader Coda warnings: smutty smutty goodness

Beta: @blacksiren 
A/N: this is part of my ‘Jess never died’ rewrite, find the masterpost here

Your name: submit What is this?

You were lying on your stomach in a motel just outside of New York, skimming through local papers and looking for a case.

Dean was out hustling pool, your sister shopping for non-perishable essentials, leaving you and Sam behind to do the job hunting.

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I was watching brendon urie periscopes on youtube and got this idea. You’re welcome. It was also requested.

Request: Can you do a poly imagine with brendon urie x reader x sarah urie

“‘You’re a dick’, why thank you,” Brendon said, reading off the chat on periscope, “'my mom’s phone corrected your name to breadbin,’ that’s sweet.”

I laughed at that from seat next to him,“'her glasses need jesus’,” I read, “fuck you, I love my glasses.”

“Oh look, more people asking about my dick,” Brendon pointed out on the screen.

“His dick is very nice,” I laughed, Brendon  laughed really hard at that.

“Well, you heard it here folks,” He laughed, resting his head on my shoulder.

“'What does she look like without glasses?’ You’ll never know,” I chuckled.

“She looks very nice without glasses,” Brendon sighed.

“'Where’s Sarah?’ I have no clue,” I said, looking around. Brendon lifted his head off my shoulder and looked too.

“Probably up stairs or something,” Brendon suggested.

I shrugged and read out more comments, “'You’re a slut,’ aw, that’s not nice.”

“Fuck you,” Brendon said, getting a bit defensive, “You’re a douche for even suggesting she’s a slut.”

“Brendon, it’s ok,” I said, patting his back.

“'Why is Bren getting so defensive?’ Because one of you just called my lovely girlfriend a slut.”

“’(Y/n) is sweet, fuck off,’ that’s nice, but it doesn’t bother me,” I said. Sarah stalked down stairs, but neither of us heard her.

“’(Y/n) and Bren should wear eachothers glasses,’ I don’t know, she’s pretty blind,” Brendon laughed.

“Just shush and hand me your glasses,” I laughed, handing him my glasses.

Once the were on his face, he squinted. Sarah had to stifle a giggle when I went bug eyed.

“Holy shit you’re blind,” Brendon said, “this is too clear, it makes my eyes hurt.”

“Wooow, it’s so blurry,” I said, trying to read another comment, “’(y/n) is pretty with glaciers?’ I think I read that wrong,” Sarah snuck behind us.

“’(Y/n) is pretty with glasses,’ I agree,” when she said it both Brendon and I jumped. Brendon jumped so hard he dropped his phone.

“Jesus fucking christ Sarah! Don’t do that!” Brendon cried as I tried to even out my breathing. We switched glasses back as Sarah laughed at us.

“Don’t do that again,” I said, picking up Brens phone, “Sorry about that, guys.” There was a flood of ‘lol’ 'lmao’ and 'it’s ok’ in the comments.

“I think I just shit myself,’ don’t do that, go change,” I read.

“'Jesus fucking christ,’ I don’t think jesus wants to fuck christ,” Sarah read.

“I guess that’s our queue to go, some of you were nice, and some of you were bastards-”

“Brendon,” Sarah warned.

“Bye!” I waved, ending the broadcast.

“Jesus christ,” Brendon sighed, locking his phone and putting it up.

“Could have been worse,” I said, kissing his cheek, “Sarah only scared us once and I only got called a slut twice.”

“They shouldn’t call you that to begin with,” Sarah said, “You’re not a slut.”

“Thanks, babe.” I said, kissing her on the cheek.

“So, food?” Brendon asked. Sarah and I shared a look.

“Taco bell?” She asked.

“Taco bell.” I affirmed.

“Not again!” Brendon exclaimed, a giant smile on his face, nonetheless.

I kissed Brendon on the lips, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Fine, let’s go to taco bell,” He sighed. Sarah and I wooed in celebration, “jeez, my girls are spoiled.”

“You love us,” Sarah said, holding his keys out to him.

“That I do,” He sighed, “that I do.”


Originally posted by adaav

This is for @deals-with-demons​​​ Sarah’s 200 Followers Celebration. I got the prompt ‘Yeah I get it you have feelings for me, I don’t give a damn’. I went with past Sam x Reader. And present Dean x Reader. 

Characters: Y/n (GENDER NEUTRAL) , Sam, Dean

Pairing: Past Sam x Y/n,  Dean x Y/n 

Warnings: Angst, dickish Sam, mentions of cheating (not proper cheating, but it’s kinda there), arguing, language, like 1 sentence of smut. More angst and heartbroken Sam. 

Word Count: 1798

Summary: Sam finds the person he messed everything up with, intent on fixing everything. But will his apology be accepted?

A/N: Ok, so some angst cos…this quote kinda screamed it. Guess there’s a sort of dickish reader? Not in my opinion, but maybe u’ll think that. I think he deserves it. Either way, hope u like it!!

Tagged Peeps: @waywardsons-imagines@whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname@sallyp-53@salvatorexwinchester@helvonasche@notnaturalanahi@wayward-mirage@riversong-sam@nerdflash@miss-miep@impala-dreamer@mypeopleskillsarerusty0203@greek-geek481@chelsea072498@deals-with-demons@plaidstiel-wormstache@impalaimagining@deathtonormalcy56​ @scorpiongirl1 @the-latina-trickster@aingealcethlenn@squirels-angels-and-moose@meganwinchester1999@cubs2019-blog@lucifer-in-leather@p–trick​​


Did he really have to be here?

Was it just a coincidence that he managed to be in the exact same state as you, going to the exact same city, town and finding the exact same bar you just so happened to be in?

You shook your head, trying to focus on your drink, knowing your peace would be interrupted.

Of course, he strode over to you, just looming over you as his gaze was focussed on you and only you.

You tried your hardest to ignore him, but his huffing and his radiating heat just pissed you off.

“What the fuck do you want?” you snapped, not really caring how harsh you were being. He deserved it.

“I…I just saw you here. Thought we could catch up”.

You scoffed. He sounded so unconvincing. Damn bastard.

“Yea. Ok. Cos you didn’t track me down or get into contact with all your hunter buddies, right?”

You scowled at him, Sam flinching at the hate that was pouring out of you.

He wasn’t used to this. This wasn’t…this wasn’t how he was used to you looking at him.

Once upon a time, you looked at Sam as though he was the love of your life. The one man you’d be with forever.

But now…now there was just disgust and resentment.

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Tea Party For 9

Pairing: The Men of The Avengers x Steve Rogers Daughter Sarah Rogers

Warning: This is ridiculous and well I think I’m funny sorry if you don’t. Haha

When Sarah wants a tea party, she manages to get her way with Uncle Tony’s help. She doesn’t hear the word no when it comes to her uncles, not a single one is willing to tell her no, even if that means being forced into Dress Up attire and using their manners. As long as it stays between the nine of them only.

@chrisevansthedoritobastard @holahellohialoha  
@almightyunnie @imamotherfuckingstar-lord  
@iwillbeinmynest @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked
@goodnightwife @irepeldirt
@yourtropegirl  @bellejeunefillesansmerci 
@buckyb-avengers  @winterboobaer
@mrhowardstark @rileyloves5
@ria132love  @samanthaneedsanap
@theonlyparadox   @seargantbcky
@the-witching-hours12-3   @callamint 
@cryokinetic-cobain  @agentsinstorybrooke 

“Are you sure about this?” You sigh leaning against the wall as you watch your daughter run from her uncle Clint who was chasing her down for of course stealing one of his French fries, her little legs going as quick as they could.

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