You blushed when Peter walked in and started staring at Stiles fingers as he fiddled with something in his hands. Peter of course noticed your reaction to his presence, the side glances or the way you would blush and smell flustered if he ever got to close.
You didn’t pay attention to anyone or anything said during the entire pack meeting. Peter was stood a few steps away from you and you had put all of your effort and attention into keeping your eyes fixed firmly on anything but him.
Promt: A soulmate AU where everything you write or draw on your skin appears on your soulmate too
A/N: Wohooooo! second part :D enjoy! and the ususal reminder: if anyone wants to be tagged let me know.
Tony sighed, adjusted
his tie, then checked himself again.
The black suit was expensive (like pretty much everything
else he owned) and fit him perfectly. He was dressed to impress which was even
more important than usual for tonight’s party since some big business partners
were going to be there.
Stephen King: wanna play tag me: stephen stop it we played tag before Stephen King: please can we play tag me: (sighs) okay stephen, lets play tag Stephen King: tag me me: Stephen King: tag me! me: (tags stephen) you’re it Stephen King: who’s it? me: You’re it Stephen King: ….who’s it? me: (sighs again) Stephen King’s It Stephen King:
You, screaming into the void:
I just feel like we should uplift and glorify only healthy relationships in our media and fandom so that people can firstly, recognize what healthy relationships look like in real life, and secondly, not force anyone to relive any past trauma that they may have endured with regards to potential previous abuse
Me, outside your window holding a boombox:
Understandably so, but the internet as a whole cannot take on the responsibility to keep everyone in their comfort zone- that's up to the individual to filter the content that they consume for themselves. Additionally, fandom does not equal reality and enjoying the relationships in a fictional setting does not mean you approve of them in real life
You, reaching for a glass of water:
While that may be true, doesn't condoning them in fiction also normalize it to a more impressionable audience as well as further demonstrate to people with previous abuse that their abusive relationships are romanticized by others?
Me, lowering the boombox to turn it off:
It can, which is why people should be responsible for the content they consume and liberally filter their experience if they're easily upset by dark themes in fiction.
You, still kind of hoarse:
What happens when people who enjoy these canons and ships are rude, refuse to warn for it after being asked, or spam it without consideration for their followers?
Me, tossing up a cough drop:
Then they're assholes and you should probably unfollow them.
Today our little girl is a year old, J. I can’t believe it was just a year ago that I gave birth to this tiny human that grew inside me…and now she’s walking! Some of the faces she makes remind me so much of you. I have a feeling she’ll be the class clown.
Your head was against the window as you were driven away from the city that you’d called home your entire life. Music played softly in your ears, blocking out everything else. Sighing, you wiped a tear from your cheek, watching semis, vans of families, and groups of teenagers singing along to whatever music they had playing.
When you’d heard that he lived just one hour from you, you were floored. So close, and you’d never laid eyes on him. You were already halfway there, and no one would tell you who he was. What did it matter? Your phone was shut off, and you’d only kept it for the numbers and pictures on it. Even so, your friends would find out soon enough.
Shaking it off, you’d stopped trying to get hints, simply rolling your eyes and trying not to picture anything too out there.
That morning at breakfast, Jensen told JJ about you, and showed her the most recent picture that was in with the letters. It was from the summer after middle school, you playing in the pool with a couple friends. You were sitting on a man’s shoulders (yet there was no indication who he was), and your best friend was on her father’s, each of you laughing and trying to knock the other off.
He knew that she could make some noise, but the excited noise she made caused him to wince. Getting her to sit still after that was impossible, her voice filling the house as she chattered away.
Now he was sitting out on the front steps, knowing that you’d be there soon. His elbows were on his knees, his fingers laced together as he watched his driveway. There was no telling how this would go, or how you’d be reacting to your mother’s death.
Warnings: ANGST. Depression,
Violence, Smut, Mutant Reader (ALWAYS) powers include immortality, healing and telekinesis.
Currently can’t think of anything else.
Summary: 5 years after the events of CACW, you are the live-in
therapist for the newly reconciled Avengers, Steve’s Fiancé. The first words
your soulmate speaks appears on your body, but only after your first
conversation has taken place, making it impossible to know who your soulmate
is, what will happen when Steve brings Bucky too live at the compound?
Moy um diya tebya temnyy- My mind is too dark for you
YA Reshu, Yesli eto tak ili net- I will decide if it is or isn’t
I’m Late you
think, rushing down the hallway to your office, first session with the winter soldier and I’m LATE, clutching the enormous
stack of papers to your chest you pick up the pace, rounding the corner you run
straight into Steve, bouncing off his muscular chest like a squash ball off a
wall, landing solidly on your butt you peer up at him “Dammit Stevie, can you
at least make some kind of noise when you walk” his eyes rake up your flustered
form “Late again doll?” he asks you trying to suppress his laugh “I’m always
late Steve, It’s part of my charm, now help me up off of this floor before I do
you bodily harm” you reply “ I mighn’ be opposed to that baby doll” he purrs as
he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, You had been dating Steve for the better
part of 5 years and recently accepted his marriage proposal, you had never been
happier, you knew you weren’t Steve’s first choice, Peggy Carter had been his
soulmate, His love, The woman for who he would take on the world and come out
bloody and bruised on the other side, you, however had not met your soulmate
and had given up hope of ever meeting them, besides, In what kind of deranged
world would you choose anyone over Steve Frikkin Rogers? “you are such a perv
Cap” you say as he hauls you too your feet “Yeah, but I’m your perv baby” he
whispers as he plants a kiss on your forehead.
Entering your office, you get your first look at the
infamous Winter Soldier, your breath catches in your throat holy hell in a hand basket this man is
gorgeous you think, Long chocolate locks frame his sharp jaw, pink plump
lips are drawn into a hard line as he scans the room, he’s all broad shoulders
and muscular chest and thick thighs and…
focus (y/n) you think he’s here for
your help, so help him. “Good morning Sergeant Barnes” you greet him, your
voice is pitched low, stance as nonthreatening as you can make it, His piercing
blue eyes snap to yours and you swear your entire world narrows to only him.
Nothing but him. “My name is Dr.(L/n). My specialty is people with PTSD. I’m
going to help integrate you into the 21st century” your voice is
shaky, get a grip (y/n) “you’re Stevie’s
girl” he grunts, fidgeting nervously with his black T-shirt “Yes, I am Steve’s Fiancé”
his face hardens “ I ain jus gonna sprout off to ya, what makes ya think you
can’ help me anyways?” he spits, you sigh “I was originally brought in to help
the Captain adjust, I spent 5 years waking him from nightmares and talking him
down when things threaten to overwhelm him. Let me help you Sergeant” He
studies you for a minute “Moy um diya tebya temnyy” he replies, you suck in a
breath, a strange tingling has started in your chest, you answer in what feels
like slow motion “YA Reshu, Yesli eto tak ili net” the words are barely out of
your mouth when the pain starts, you let out a startled cry as your hand flies
to your collarbone, Bucky is doubled over on the floor hand holding his hip as
his gaze snaps to yours.
“shit” you breath, eyes wide searching his face “No no noo
no no no” you’re panicking “this cannot be happening” Bucky lifts up his shirt
and you pull down the edge of your top.
“you’re my soulmate” Bucky says voice dead.
“Fuck” you whisper as you see the words inked on his skin. “Steve’s
going to lose his mind”
“No” He barks at you, striding forward he levels you with a
deadly look:“Steve ain never gonna find out”You gape at him“What the fuck do you mean Steve isn’t going to find out?”
you screech “Its literally inked onto my skin!”
He’s floundering, desperately looking for a solution to the problem, finally his shoulders slump and with a defeated sigh he says:
Tags: Next Chapter will be Angsty AF. Let me know if you want to be untagged.(Strikethorugh means the tags arent working)
“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty.” You glared. “You’re here for a case. Focus on that.” Getting into it with Dean would not end well. “Hunter is none of your business, Dean.” As far as you were concerned, at least.
Sam was staring at the table. “No, but he is mine.” His voice was firm as he looked up.
You put your elbows on the table, and rested your forehead on your fingertips. “Yes, I know.” You sighed. “My choices were limited. It was either wait, and let people get hurt until you or another hunter came in. I could have waited to call until it was too late and something happened to Hunter. Or, I could have simply ignored it.” Licking your lips, you looked at him. “It’s clear that the choice I made was the right one, given the other three.”
His jaw was tight. “You took off nine and a half years ago, with my son.” He ground out. “What, did you plan to just play house, marry some guy, and never tell me?” Saying it out loud killed him. The anger in his eyes was being taken over by pain.
“I didn’t think of it like that.” You told him honestly.
“Really? How did you think of it, then?” Dean snapped, not enjoying the pain he knew his brother was feeling.
Sitting back, you pulled the hair tie from your hair before running your fingers through your hair. “I didn’t see you a lot, Sam.” You sighed. “It was random, and even then, I never knew if I’d call and find out you were killed on a hunt.” Pulling your knee up, you went on. “And then there was Dean. How was I supposed to tell Hunter that his father might not come back one day because he got killed? Or that he might be gone for long periods of time fighting demons or something?” You shook your head. “How would I have explain to him why Mom and Uncle Dean don’t always get along? Because I don’t lie to him. Not outright. He asks me something, and I answer it.”
Sam nodded, letting out a breath. That, he understood. “That still doesn’t make it right.” He pointed out, his voice low.
“So, you’re telling me that you would have wanted me to stay, attempting to raise my son in a bunker, constantly afraid of that one case that kills you, or all the shit that comes your way?” You shook your head, getting up. “I won’t say I’m sorry for giving my son a safe, normal childhood. I would think you of all people would have wanted that for him.”
Dean furrowed his brows at you. “Where’re you going?”
You shot him a look. “To get ready for work. Some people don’t live on the road, Dean.” Sighing, you walked off, heading upstairs. Honestly, you just wanted to curl up in bed and cry. That wasn’t something you had the luxury of doing, though.
I’m finally back with the Pride Man. Ugh, he’s so fun and cosy to write for! Feedback is welcomed and very much appreciated. Hope you all enjoy it, as always, thank you for reading <3
Title: Is That My Shirt?
Requested by: Anon - “23 and Pride?”
Word Count: 512
Pairing: Pride x Reader
23. “Is that my shirt?”
The clock showed 22:23, the bright lights of the numbers making you squint in the dim light of Pride’s bedroom. You were currently reading through a case file that Gibbs had sent over for you to read through - it was an old case from your time spent in D.C. Reaching over for your phone you press the power button to see no texts from Pride - it was getting late and you were starting to think he was pulling an all-nighter.
Imagine Sam trying to apologize for hurting you when he left for Stanford.
A/N: This takes place during S1E8 Bugs. Sam is trying to apologize to you but you aren’t having any of it. This episode has been hell for me so I figured why not go original imagine to just get it over with. This imagine might make more sense if you’ve read the previous one, which you can read here.
Dean x Sister!Reader Sam x Sister!Reader
“Go talk to her, now.” Dean said shoving Sam in your direction. You had all just said your goodbyes to Matt and his family, you were walking ahead of your brothers to the impala and Dean was tired of the silence between you and Sam.
“Dean, she’s not gonna talk to me.” Sam replied, turning around to look at Dean.
“Yeah well, try. You’re the one that broke this, now you’re the one that’s gonna fix this. I can’t make it better Sam, this is on you.” Dean said sadly.
Sam let out a sigh, knowing that Dean was right. You and Sam were once so close, but now you two can’t be around eachother for more then a few days without a fight breaking out. It all originated from you being pissed at him for leaving. He had to make it right.
“Y/N, wait up a second.” Sam called to you. You stopped walking and let out a groan, you weren’t in the mood for a touchy feely conversation with Sam. You just wanted sleep.
“Can we not do this now?” You asked in an annoyed tone.
“No, you guys are doing this now.” Dean said as he passed by you, getting into the driver’s seat of the impala.
Letting out a sigh you turned towards Sam, “What?”
“Y/N, look-” Sam started but you stopped him.
“Sam, there really isn’t any point for this. You left. You aren’t sorry that you left, you’re sorry that I feel like this. You apologizing for how I feel isn’t going to help us.” You told him with a sad face.
“Well what can help us? I want my little sister back-” San said.
“I’m not that same little sister anymore Sam! You left, I grew up, it’s been 4 years. And every time, every damn time I let myself start to get attached to you, you leaving gets brought up. And yesterday, telling Matt how good it is to leave your family? Sam you don’t regret a damn thing about leaving, you just wish I let you back in as easily as Dean did. But I’m not going to. So just-just stop trying.” You and Sam stared at each other for a moment, not saying anything, “I’m done fighting Sam,” You told him in a defeated voice, “But I’m not gonna try to make this better.”
Sam just nodded his head, you turned around and got into the backseat of the impala while Sam continued to look at the ground with a heartbroken face.
“That looked like it went well.” Dean said in a sarcastic voice.
“Please De, just-not now.” You told him as a tear ran down your face.
“Kiddo?” He asked, turning to look at you.
“Just don’t Dean. I just wanna go to bed.” You told him while laying down face first on the seat, “Why’d he have to leave De?” You asked in a muffled voice, “It screwed everything up.”