Summary: The first words you’ll hear your soulmate say are tattooed onto your skin from birth. You hear the words, but in the worst possible situation - he’s in love with your close friend. Scenario: Soulmate AU, angst, fluff Word Count: 5,746
“You’ve had some
pretty bloody stupid ideas before, Remus Lupin, but this has got to
be up there.”
Tonks buried her short
nails into the palms of her hands, for fear of them shaking. A baby’s
cry echoed from upstairs.
“This is it, Tonks.
They need all the help they can get.”
“Then we both go.”
Tonks silently cursed
the day she married a man as stubborn as she was. It did not bode
well for arguments.
Remus. We fight together. That’s how it’s always been.”
“Not this time.”
She unclenched her
fists, but there was nothing to hold on to, so she clenched them
“So you’re just going
to leave? After last time?”
When Remus had returned
and looked at her with broken eyes and held on to her as though he
were falling, she had forgiven him. But she knew better than to trust
in the promises he made. She had lost enough people to know
those who leave don’t always have a choice.
“Dora, I don’t have a
“You do. This time,
you do.” She closed her eyes and willed her voice not to waver.
“I’m not asking you to stay behind. But we’re too out of
practice… neither of us can fight like we used to. This won’t be a
Her voice remained steady but the tears in her eyes betrayed her, and Remus threaded his
fingers through her own.
“You’ll die if you go
Remus held her to his
chest and she felt the rise and fall of it, his steady heartbeat. A
hungry wail cut through the silent hallway, and she knew.
“Look after Teddy for
me,” he whispered into her hair. Lilac shifted to a soft, pale
blue. “I love you.”
After the door had
clicked shut behind him, Tonks climbed the stairs to their son’s
room. She picked him up and cradled him gently, ignoring how her stomach twisted as she smiled at their matching hair. She told him that Daddy had something important to do, but he couldn’t do it alone, so she was going to help him and make sure they both came home.
She hummed softly to drown out her thoughts whilst she wrote a letter
to her mother.
Tonks ran through the
dust and the chaos towards the Great Hall, knowing there wasn’t
enough time but praying for it anyway. She felt the air crackle
and her ears rang as she tore through the
doors and she saw him, she saw his face and the way Dolohov drew back
his wand and she didn’t hesitate before drawing back her own and
screaming a curse.
Her aim was off – it
hit the pillar by Dolohov’s head and showered him with rubble as he
stumbled backwards. But she was by Remus’s side and he was filthy and
bleeding from the head and alive, looking at her like she was
the last thing left on earth.
Tonks knew there wasn’t
enough time but prayed for it anyway as Dolohov found his footing and
turned on them. Remus raised his wand and his free hand brushed hers.
Tonks looked past
Dolohov into the eyes of her aunt.
summary: based on the song “kiss me slowly” by parachute. peter parker really, really wants to kiss his girlfriend, but can’t seem to work up the courage to do so. this is cheesy as hell but i just needed to write it, okay.
I can see you there with the city lights Fourteenth floor, pale blue eyes. I can breathe you in. Two shadows standing by the bedroom door, No, I could not want you more than I did right then, As our heads leaned in.
Peter has never been one to make the first move. After all, it only took three long months of being constantly encouraged by Ned to finally approach you in your literature class. He’s shy, even more so when it comes to the pretty girl who sits in the row behind him, who always gives him a small smile when she caught his eye. He isn’t staring - at least that’s what Peter always tells himself.
An AU of sorts. Where hunter’s have communities, and arrange marriages for their young. Y/N is from the Northwest region, arranged to marry Dean, from the midwest region.
Catch Up Here: Masterpost
Feeling lips brush your cheek, you tried to wake up,
struggling when darkness met your eyes. “Shh, this won’t hurt. Just
because I’m Lucifer doesn’t mean I’m going to hurt everyone I meet.”
Your heart pounding, you tried to crawl up the bed, away
from the glowing red eyes in the darkened room. “Leave me alone!” You screamed,
as you tried to climb off the bed. Falling to the floor, you crawled over to
the nightstand, reaching up to grab your knife, even though you knew it would
do nothing but piss him off.
How do we feel about jazz singer natasha falling for her boss/boyfriends body guard Clint
Clint who has to do sketchy things for his boss, because he’s a crack shot with any gun he gets his hands on
Natasha, who ends up patching him up after something goes wrong
Clint, who tries to kiss her while drugged up and gets slapped
Natasha, who starts singing more love songs than usual
Clint who ends up getting the shit beat out of him as a warning to stay away from the boss’s girl
Natasha, who runs away from her abusive bf in the middle of the night and ends up as a waitress in a shitty bar in the middle of nowhere
Clint, who roars up on his motorcycle months later and just swoops her up and carries her off into the night because Hawkeye isn’t going anywhere without his Songbird
I mean honestly guys
Natasha channeling Jessica Rabbit with her hair style and rocking body
Clint in jeans and leather jackets
Natasha crooning everything she says like a 40s singer
Clint watching her from a booth in the corner, his gun resting on the table, his eyes full of want and lust and love
Natasha getting manhandled by a drunk guy and Clint calmly breaking every bone in the guys hand
Natasha telling Clint “I’m not bad, I just look that way.”
Clint laughing and telling her “you absolutely are bad, baby girl, but I wouldn’t want you any other way”
Natasha setting fire to her old pimps apt and walking away in slow motion while the building explodes behind her, hiking her skirt up and throwing her leg over the back of Clint’s bike as they race away into the night
A year and a half later and Clint comes home from his job at the steel mill and opens his kitchen door and a little red headed girl with pale blue eyes screams “daddy!” And races towards him on chubby legs
Natasha rubbing her stomach because she’s already six months pregnant with the next one, and this ones a boy
Prompt: Postwar: isolated Katniss did not sit frozen in that quiet tomb of a house, suffocating! She ran madly into the woods. It’s years before anyone sees her again. What’s become of 12, Gale, Haymitch, mom…of Peeta? [Submitted by @567inpanem]
AN: This is for the lovely @567inpanem who submitted the prompt. I hope you like what I’ve done with it. I know I’ve only addressed half of the prompt here, but the story was getting too long, so I decided to break it into three different parts. Part 2 will be ready soon.
I want to thank the wonderful @xerxia31 for helping me with this one. Believe me, this story is a LOT better because of her. And finally, I want to thank the always incredible @akai-echo for making such a beautiful banner for me.
I’ve had this AU in my brain for awhile, thinking of making it a VERY short story. Here’s part 1
It’s a cool and damp night, the kind that makes Vegeta want to go out and cause some mischief. He can’t help but feel his fingers itch with the promise of beating someone bloody and raw until they beg for his mercy. But tonight, he’s feeling a bit lucky. And all he wants is to do is head on down to The Blue Room and cuddle up with a few glasses of whisky and sleep under the thick blanket of jazz. Tonight, he doesn’t want to be a shadow waiting at the end of the alley. Tonight, he wants to pretend that he’s a regular fellow with nothing better to do on a Saturday night.
He’s heard good things from the shore of South City since The Blue Room opened. ‘The best jazz this side of the ocean!’ has rang in his ears more times than he can count, so he decides to head on down and see what the buzz is about. He’s even found his best suit; a sharp number that is known to make the ladies croon in delight and the men move out of his way. It makes him feel powerful, and Vegeta never objects to feeling like a king.
The pale blue lights welcome him as he steps through the doors, the room smoky in a haze of secrets and sex. A smooth piano rift transports him to another place and time, and he looks over to the musician with compliments. He recognizes him immediately. Raditz’s brother. The man who was either too dumb or too smart to join his older brother in one of the most ruthless gangs in the area. Kakarot, if he’s not mistaken. He looks towards Vegeta and nods in understanding, showing that he recognizes him too.
Vegeta turns his head and steps towards the circular bar, sitting quaintly against the deep blue walls of the room. Coconut trees flash in and out behind the bartender, inviting anyone with a strong enough appetite for the dark liquors inside. He takes a stool and scoots up, leaning against the countertop.
“What’ll it be, mister?” The bartender looks like a young boy, Vegeta thinks. But if he’s old enough to sell him a drink without getting the law involved, he won’t complain.
“I’ll start with a Tom Collins,” he demands huskily, fishing in his coat pocket for his wallet, “And make it a double.”
“You got it, mister.” The barteneder’s head is shiny enough that Vegeta can see Kakarot glaring at him from behind. He’s probably wondering if he’ll be up to no good in his establishment. Vegeta smirks; he’s always up to no good.
“Is it your first time here?” The bartender pours the concoction in a glass and slides it over to Vegeta, leaving a trail of spirits in its wake. Vegeta ignores him and presses his mouth to the rim, letting the liquid burn his tongue with delight. The bartender is unperturbed by his mannerisms and keeps talking. “I haven’t seen you around these parts before. You sure picked a special night to visit.”
Vegeta looks up at him, the question why swimming in his eyes like barracudas. He takes another long sip of his drink, resisting the urge to throw the glass against the wall and demand silence. The bartender gets it and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Vegeta notices for the first time that he doesn’t seem to have a nose.
“Well, it’s her night, after all. The crème de la crème, the dame of South City, the Belle of the ball-”
“Who?” Vegeta asks impatiently. Surely if such a woman existed, he would have ran into her by now. After all, the shores of this city belong to him, and he knows every footprint that marks the sands.
“Oh, wow, you are new,” the man shakes his head, wiping away the mess on the counter. “Everyone knows that she’s the gem of this dump. That’s why we’re so busy tonight especially. Well, you may have come here with ignorance, but you’ll definitely know her name by the time she leaves.”
Vegeta straddles the line of curiosity and not giving a damn. How many little starlets come here to make something of themselves, only to wind up in some drug induced stupor and begging him for a fix? He’s heard this tale before, and he doubts that whoever she is will have an effect on him like the blobbering idiot before him.
That is, until the lights dim down.
In the darkness, Vegeta can taste the lust of the men who’ve clutched their seats a little tighter, turning to the stage and pressing their hands in their tight suits. The smoke from their cigarettes choked him as soon as he entered, but now he’s seeing more ashtrays being passed around and more butts being dumped. “She’s coming out,” the bartender says, licking his lips and abandoning his job. Vegeta looks over his shoulder as a single light illuminates the stage, showcasing a curvy silhouette behind a sheer curtain.
Whistles parade around the room, the men reminding him of a hungry pack of wolves ready to gobble this dame up. He’s disgusted by them, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the sheer curtain and the woman behind it. She’s bent over and running her hands up her shapely legs and he feels his groin twitch as she glides over her thighs. Just as she’s almost in a standing position again, the curtain slides to the left, revealing the most beautiful creature he’s ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes on.
Kakarot’s fingers produce a milky string of chords at the piano, a smoke little riff that she’s switching her hips to seductively. He doesn’t notice it, but he’s turned fully around in his chair, completely under her trance. Her hair is the color of the waters of South City, and he doesn’t need to be close to the stage to see the sparkle of her sapphire eyes. Her lips pout into red pillows and she walks towards the mic, a silver little number hugging her figure deliciously. She opens her mouth to speak and he’s already about to sink into the floor.
Her eyes run over the crowd and she smiles. She’s like a little kitten who’s begging to lap up milk, and he’s about to run to the store to get her some. She croons over the piano notes, her voice as soft and sultry as she is.
I’ve got my eyes on a man. A strong kind of man. He’s the kind to leave me under his spell.
It’s almost like she’s purring, this exotic little kitten, with every syllable that escapes her lips.
I want to touch him and see. Will he be good to me? Or leave me to wilt, I can’t tell.
“What’s her name?” He asks the bartender with urgency. His mouth is salivating and he drinks more of his liquor to stop himself from drooling.
He’s like whisky and smoke. If I’m not careful, I’ll choke. But mama didn’t teach me well.
“Bulma,” the bartender says her name like it’s oxygen, and Vegeta plays with it over his tongue. He likes the way it smooths out his mouth like marble.
I wonder what he’ll do. When I tell him the truth. How I’m completely under his spell.
She shimmies her shoulders and rolls her hips smoothly, earning a mixture of applause and whistles from the crowd. She’s walking down the stage, singing and flirting with the men who’ve moved their seats, giving her a center aisle.
A center aisle that is leading directly towards him.
She notices him sitting against the bar, his demeanor quiet unlike the chaos around him. She’s interested, he can tell. She further proves this by walking towards him slowly, making each step her own show. Vegeta can’t take his eyes away from her thick hips or the sparkling fabric. Everything about her screams of an orgasm.
He’s too hot for the touch. But I need him so much. Oh, boy, what’s a lady to do?
She’s getting close enough that he can taste whatever perfume she’s doused herself in for the night. Her blue curls are electric, like lightning in the middle of a rain storm, and they bounce against her shoulders as she approaches. He runs his eyes up to her breasts. Even through the material of her dress, they look like the softest satin he’s never touched.
Is he ready for me?
She runs a finger in between the cutout of her dress, lightly touching her breasts, and he can feel the goosebumps on his own chest.
Is it possible? Can it be?
She’s close enough to reach out and touch him, and she takes his hand and curls it around her back, making him push her in between his legs. She looks down on him and smiles, running her fingers through his hair. Vegeta is trapped. He knows she can smell the desire pouring from his skin. Her fingers are like the skin of ghosts, and he shivers every time they touch his skin. She runs one finger across his lips and leans in close, and he can taste the peppermint that she most recently ate.
That I’ve got him under my spell, too.
Before she turns and leaves, she squeezes his hand, slowly removing her warm thighs from his own. He wants to squeeze her in his legs and taste her skin, see if the kitten is as good as she smells. Instead, he’s cruelly exposed to the smoke of the bar again, and he can only watch her plump behind sashay back to the stage, finding other saps to toy with. He bites down his lips in jealousy; she shouldn’t be touching anyone else but him. How could she want to anyways?
She looks at him again over her shoulder before she steps up the stage and smiles challengingly. He thinks to himself that she’s either the smartest woman alive or the dumbest to look at him like that. His cock twitches with his wild imagination. He finishes his drink as she finishes her song, the sheer curtain covering her again.
Vegeta vows, with absolute certainty, that he will have her by the end of the night.
Like I said, a very short story of only 3-4 parts, and I’ll probably only post this on Tumblr for the time being.
Leaving for work, the last thing you expected to find in
front of you, propped up against his pale blue door, was a badly beaten version
of your neighbour: bruised and bleeding and barely conscious, groaning in pain.
You dropped down onto your knees in front of him and cradled
his bloody face in your delicate hands. “Sehun are you ok? What happened?” you
murmured frantically, your thumb brushing across the cut on his lip and
immediately pulling back when he winced and leaned away. “Who did this to you?”
you asked more sternly, placing a gentle finger on his chin and lifting it to
check for more injuries.
He didn’t answer. Instead he swayed out of your grip and dropped
back against his front door with a dull thud, his face showing the amount of
pain he was experiencing.
You had three weaknesses in your life that you would drop
everything for in a split second without a single thought. Number one was white
chocolate - in whichever form you could get it. You would probably knock over
children if they came between you and the last white hot chocolate on the
planet. Number two was puppies – cute adorable little balls of fluff that made
your heart melt into a puddle on the floor. They were extremely hard to resist. And the third?
Summary: Reader makes a decision to end all the strife.
Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff
Word Count: 1,799
A/N: Part 7! The end is here! Thank you so much to everyone for their support, praise, and comments during this series. This was only ever intended to be a oneshot, but look how far we’ve come. I’m sad to see it end, but alas, all good things come to an end in time. Just remember, you love me, ok?
Sam cupped her face, holding her tight. “Tell me what you want? I do still love you, in spite of everything. If you want to work this out, we can forget everything and try again.” He dropped his hands from her, his expression changing. “But…if you’d rather be with Dean…I won’t stand in your way.” She looked at him confused, pained. “I just want this to be over, and I want you happy. So tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”
Dean held his breath, his head bowed, as he listened, waiting for Y/N’s response. Was his love enough?