Warnings: angst with some fluffy moments, ansty ending though
Word count: 1359
A/N: This is for the wonderful @avanatural and her 300 follower celebration! Congratulations again darling and thank you so much for hosting the fun event! I’m sorry if this is late I totally lost track of time. The prompt I chose is bolded within the fic. I hope y’all enjoy it!
Ahhh, even though you broke my heart, I LOVE THIS, @nerdyfangirl67! ❤ And don’t worry, you’re not too late at all! I gotta admit, you really surprised me with this fic! This quote actually felt like a fluffy, family AU kind of prompt to me, and gosh, did you prove me wrong! I’m a huge fan of being surprised by stories, and you just blew me away! The angst was so ON POINT, I don’t know how you do it You are such a talented writer, thank you so much for taking part in my challenge! ❤
There are quotes below the cut, so watch out for spoilers for this wonderful story!
@avanatural ! Oh my gosh! I don’t even know where to start! Everything about this response just gets to me At first, I thought I was going to go in the fluffy direction with this one, but it totally came out angsty instead.
I love that you had so many favorite parts in this fic! It makes me Thank you so much for reading and taking the time to write this amazingly beautiful review! It means so much that you liked it!
Thank you for hosting this exciting writing challenge! Congratulations again on the follower milestone! Can’t wait to see where you go from here
The winners have been drawn y’all! Three of you will get to send in your requests and have them written! As a little bonus fun, I thought I’d allow the winners to make holiday themed requests, in celebration of the upcoming holidays
Thanks to all who took part in this celebration!! I couldn’t have got here without you!
I won?? That’s incredible! Congratulations again on the follower milestone, darling ❤ I love that you’ll take holiday themed requests! ✨ I can’t wait to send you one and see what your lovely mind will come up with!
Thanks darling!! Can’t wait for your request (especially if it’s holiday themed!!)❤️
Warnings: language, talk of drinking/alcohol, talk of nightmares and hell, PTSD symptoms, unintended violence
Word count: 2579
A/N: Okay, here’s chapter three. I hope y’all enjoy it! I had a lot of fun writing this one. It just seemed to come easily while writing :) Once again, thank you @avanatural (my amazing beta!) for reading this over!
Summary: A Stephen Holder AU. We’ve all seen those true crime shows, where infamous cases are re-enacted for the entertainment of audiences at home. What if The Killing really was just a television show, but the detectives and cases were real?
Warnings: The Killing spoilers, language, smoking, mention of addiction, reader has a nickname
Word Count: 2,944 words
A/N:This fic has truly been a collaborative process with the massively talented Vee @a-reader-and-a-writer! Thank you so much for sharing this journey with me and helping out with so much of the plot and dialogue. This is just as much your story as it is mine.
Thank you to the wonderful @sociiallydiisoriiented for beta-reading! Your advice has been invaluable <3
The next eight weeks of filming seem to fly by, and before Stephen knows it, they’re midway into season two. He still feels like a fish out of water when it comes to being on set, but he has to admit that his outlook has brightened.
“Yo, you seen Hendrix yet?” he asks Linden as they make their way through the woods and into the clearing where they will be shooting today’s scene. He spent longer than usual in make-up this morning, having fake blood and bruises applied to his skin, and he’s worried that he’s somehow missed her.
I’m catching up now, and still loving this so much!!! It’s just.. so Stephen. Plus I died a little at uncle Steve And I love that Linden still has his back every time.
“Know that ain’t gonna fly with me, mama. Detective, remember?” Stephen raises an eyebrow, attempting to make light of the situation despite his concern - something that has long been one of his specialities.
So Stephen❤️ (also a mood lol)
Thank you so much Sam! I adore Stephen and Linden’s friendship ❤️
Summary: Steve buys you a present, but it’s more for him.
Warnings: smut, dom!Steve, language.
W/C: 663
Rating: E (explicit - 18+)
Characters: Steve Rogers, fem!reader.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
A/N: I saw a post online that said something like, “got a couple of sundresses I want you to fuck me in!” and it inspired this. I created the dress on the title card using canva.
There was a time when you would have called Steve shy. He was a fierce soldier, a loyal friend, and, in the beginning, a shy lover.
He was timid; the first time he saw you completely naked, you swore, his eyes filled with tears. He’d acted as if you were made of porcelain, taking extra care not to hurt you, needing your reassurance at every move to make sure you were okay. After a frank and earnest conversation, you’d revealed a few kinks, and it had awoken a hibernating bear. He was hungry all the time. Insatiable. Passionate. Sometimes borderline condemnable.
He’s waiting in the hallway of your apartment when you get home, arms folded over his broad chest, seams of his shirt barely holding their ground. That devilish smirk, the one that is reserved only for you, creeps across his mouth.
“Welcome home, baby,” he says, and his eyes shimmer with mischief, “have a good day?” His tone suggests he doesn’t actually care.
“I did,” you shrug off your jacket. “And I have a feeling it’s going to get a hell of a lot better.”
His smile deepens, eyes darkening, and he flicks his chin up slightly. “Bedroom.”
Summary: When Superman died, Martha lost her son and her home. A friendly neighbor, Sage, took her in and cared for her when she got sick. Clark makes a difficult decision to return home to the Kent farm after breaking up with Lois. Can Sage convince him it was the right decision? Can he show her that running from her past isn’t her only option?
The smell of barley and wheat grew stronger the closer the truck took him to his childhood home. Hickory Lane was as bumpy as ever, and the lack of change made Clark smile. It was nice to know some things remained as they had always been. He thumbed a tune against the side of the door, arm hanging out the open window, his happy mood increasing with each rotation of the wheels. As uneven as the dirt road was, he barely felt it. The new Ford pickup truck, courtesy of Bruce Wayne, was top of the line, and Clark looked forward to using it to its full potential on the Kent Farm.
Dusty heard the truck arrive and pushed the screen door open to stand guard on the porch, barking at the unknown visitor.
“Hey boy,” Clark called, jumping out of the vehicle and walking to meet the happy dog.
The screen door squeaked again - he’d have to fix that - and he looked away from the overzealous dog to see his mother, followed by an auburn-haired woman, walk onto the porch.
“Clark!” Martha said, smiling happily but with a hint of inconvenience in her tone, “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
His mother wasn’t getting any younger, and he wanted to be there for her in her twilight years to help run the farm. Since Bruce had brought it for them, there was no financial incentive to keep it going. Now, it was simply for the love of what their family had built.
He jogged the distance to the porch and met his mother as she reached the bottom step.
“I wanted to surprise you,” he told her, enveloping her in a hug.
A perfect mix of angst and fluff. Clark is so true to character, and Sage is a wonderful balance of strength and vulnerability.
“Oh, fuss will be made,” he confirmed,…
I already told you I loved this retort, but I just had to say it again. I don’t know why, but this is hysterical to me.
She rolled her eyes and laughed, “you ever just let someone thank you?”
Clark scrunched his face as if deep in thought, looking off to the left, and then shook his head, “there was that one time in ninety-four, I think. Suzie Jones thanked me for letting her borrow my pen.”
Love that dry sense of humor and I can perfectly visualize his expression while saying it.
Wonderfully sweet and beautifully written.
Comments Reblog
I never would have finished or posted this without your help, so thank you
Summary: Bucky didn’t intentionally break her trust, but maybe Sam has the right idea of how he can make it up to her.
Warnings: fluff, fluffy angst (maybe), Sam Wilson being immature, implied smut, language, hints at the reader having abilities but not explicitly mentioned.
“I thought I could trust you,” she says, bottom lip sticking out in an adorable pout.
She’s not tryingto be adorable, her expression is fierce, but that just makes it worse. He should be taking her seriously but Bucky’s not sure he’s ever wanted anything more than to kiss her. He’s staring at that protruding lip and it’s all he can think about. If the circumstances were different, he’d do it. He’d lean in, nip that plush lip with his teeth then kiss away the sting. He’d kiss her until her lips were swollen and she was breathless. Then he’d do it again till she was delirious and light-headed.
She snaps her fingers a millimetre from his eyes, and it’s the disruption in his vision that brings him back to the room.
“You’re supposed to be making amends, Barnes,” she teases, “and here you are doin’ some shady shit to the person who took your ass in, helped you when you needed it most. We’re supposed to be able to trust each other.”
He gives her a crooked smile. “You can trust me, doll.”
Summary: After being stalked for almost two years and moving home three times, can you finally settle down? More importantly, can Andy convince you to stay?
Warnings: fluff (I hope that’s the point), Mentioned but not described in detail: attempted murder, stalking, assault, abduction.
You sit nervously on the wooden chair at the prosecutors desk listening to the defence lawyer, Davis Smith, give his closing argument. The jury isn’t buying it, the women are all tight-lipped and have stern expressions. The men seem bored. It’s true what they say, never trust a man with two last names.
“Lastly, I would like to thank you for your time,” Davis says and gives a slight bow before returning to his table next to his client, Sam Scott.
Andy Barber, your lawyer, twists in his seat to give you a reassuring smile and he doesn’t need to say anything, his grin says it all; ‘I’ve got this.’
He stands, buttoning his jacket up. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Davis has used my opening line of thanking you for your time. But let’s be honest, we all know your time has been wasted.”
Juror number six; a woman in her early thirties nods and is halfway through an eye roll before she gently coughs it away, realizing she’s supposed to remain neutral.
“This case should never have made it to this courtroom. Mr Scott-” Andy gestures toward the man sitting at the defence table as if the jurors could forget who’s on trial. “-stalked Y/N Y/L/N for over two years, simply because she was kind enough to buy him a coffee one morning after he forgot his wallet. He couldn’t handle rejection from a beautiful woman, he refused to take no for an answer so instead, he put her through hell. She moved homes three times, left a job she loved and eventually had to change cities to escape him because no one took her seriously.”
Summary: You’ve been kidnapped, and you wake up in a dark room scared and alone…. but maybe you’re not alone as you first thought.
It’s dark. Wherever you are, the smell is potent, filling you with a dread that sits deep in your stomach. You try to dismiss the rancid scent that lines your every breath, but it’s becoming increasingly impossible. You want to convince yourself that you’re dreaming, but unfortunately the way your senses are going into overdrive only proves that you’re not. Even as you force your eyes to open, you expect to have to blink away the light, but no, it remains pitch black.
You’re so confused, the last thing that you remember is going to bed at home; everything had been so normal before. You force yourself to sit up, only to get hit by a wave of nausea that sits heavy in your stomach, and there’s a sudden pain in your head that makes you wince. Touching the place where it’s most tender, you pull your hand away to find it wet and sticky. You know the feeling all too well… blood.
@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone Thank you so much babe, for these amazing comments and for reading! You’re literally the sweetest! So glad you liked it! :D Gotta say I was quite pleased with the twist myself ;)
