Cast Away (1): The Ticking Clock

Cast Away (1): The Ticking Clock

Summary: After a mission gone awry, you end up stranded on a deserted island. While you know that you have the skills to survive in the desolate paradise, you’re not sure if your heart will.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,000

Warnings: Swearing (as per usual). Asshole Bucky. Asshole reader. Assholes all around. Brief mentions of a suicide mission.

A/N: Hey guys! This idea has been in my head for so long and I’m excited to see what you all think. As always, I appreciate all comments, likes, and reblogs (they fuel my writing!). Scream with me or at me? Beggars can’t be choosers.

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IT Rewrite || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 8: Somebody’s Watching Me •

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by your side

a/n: these were requested fucking forever ago and i’m sorry it took so long but i finally finished it so here it is

song to listen to while you read: by your side by the 1975

warnings: angst. pregnancy. mentions of sexual assault. happy ending i swear

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West Philadelphia

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Type: One-Shot

Word Count: 677

Summary:  The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air is a classic and it’s really important to you and Sam that Steve watches it. 

Warnings: Chaotic nonsense, one cuss word

A/N: I’ve been drinking and this is the ridiculous result. I fully recognize that this personality does not fit with canon Steve. Humor me, fam!

You were shocked. Wounded almost. 

Sam was the one to tell you and he wasn’t happy about it either. The offense was pretty serious. Sure, the guy had been on ice for a few decades. And he’s been a little busy protecting the world from HYDRA and aliens.

But Steve Rogers still hadn’t seen the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

And it was a travesty.

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Prince of the Court of Night x female reader (nsfw) - Fae Realm Story

So, I’ve been on a bit of a Fae Realm bender over on my Patreon lately, mostly due to starting (finally!) to read the Silmarillion and becoming ever so slightly obsessed with mythical graceful and powerful entities who each have sway over different elements etc… 

I did a longish post over on Patreon on the social and governmental structure of my Fae Realm, from the Seelie/Unseelie rulers, to the 12 courts who govern beneath them, and the different noble houses in turn allied with/governed by them. After that, I was asked by a lovely patron to do an nsfw story for the Prince of the Court of Night with a short, slightly curvy, craftswoman. I answered a couple of asks about him on here which you can read here and here, though you might want to wait til you’ve read the story to read the first one, as it contains spoilers (ish?). I’ll link them again at the end. 

I’ve also done a short piece and quick drawing for the Prince of the Court of Winter, and a couple of aesthetics for the younger prince of the Court of Spring (on Tumblr), the winged Princess of the Court of Air, and the Prince of the Court of Fire (the latter two of which are about to go up on my Patreon for everyone from the Shadows tier ($1) upwards!). January’s ‘creepy’ kelpie story over on patreon is also set in this world, but features one of the more ordinary fae instead of nobility. 

Anyway, after all that waffling, here it is, all 9200+ words of it! I really hope you enjoy it even half as much as I did writing it :). 

Dull, grey light filtered in through the leaded windows behind you as you chiselled and punched the design into the damp leather which sat on a slab of granite on the workbench in front of you. It would make a beautiful cover for one of the older and more battered books in the royal collection that you had to rebind, and with the design that you’d painstakingly invented - one of interwoven leaves and vines, studded with flowers and tiny bees - it would indeed be a book fit for the hands of a king. At least, you hoped it would.

It seemed a long way off that as it sat on your table, but you weren’t one to get disheartened easily when it came to your work. Your hands were rough and callused from the years you’d spent in your apprenticeship, but now you had a workshop of your own, working with the archivists here in what had to be the greatest human palace ever built.

Taking a break, you rolled your shoulders out and stood, pushing the heavy wooden chair with its squashy, threadbare cushion back and easing out the building tension in your neck and spine. Your mostly sedentary life had meant you were carrying a little more on the hips than most women your age at court, but then again most of the women at court your age were noblewomen, thinking about ensnaring good husbands and making good matches. You, the daughter of a country farrier, who had grown up tooling leather saddles and bridles, were hardly the centre of anyone’s attention. There was a rather attractive scribe who worked on the floor below, but you didn’t run into him all that often. Besides, he had what might have been called a rather ‘fae’ look about him, and everyone knew that even the slightest drop of fae blood in someone meant trouble, if not outright danger.

You shuddered at the thought of the Fae, knuckling the small of your back with a grunt and heading for the door that would take you down a winding, spiral staircase, through the archives, and out into a small courtyard where you could get a breath of fresh air, even if it was admittedly a rather grey, misty day.

As you paced through the familiar warren of labyrinthine stacks, the hairs on the back of your neck suddenly rose, goosebumps prickling along your arms, and you paused, feeling horribly like a trapped rat in a tunnel for absolutely no discernible reason. A glance behind revealed nothing but the empty rows of books.

A shadow moved up ahead, and you glimpsed a figure holding a scroll in one hand and a light that was definitely not a candle flame in the other. The light remained steady, with none of the guttering and flickering of a naked flame, and, aside from that, it was a shimmering green. Magic.

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I’m gonna say it... Animated Bucky can get it