#30 day writing trope challenge

[freakrenaissance]

Something about big, sexy protective man taking out any threat to his love...oof... the violence. So freaking romantic, I can't take it! Love this!!! 🤭

more than safe

pairing: avengers!bucky barnes x shield agent!reader

summary: when you're injured on a mission in sokovia, bucky barnes comes to help—and you share a soft moment together.

warnings: fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, mention of blood/injury, bucky barnes kills a man, protective bucky barnes

word count: 2k

a/n: day 30 of my 30 day writing trope challenge was "who did this to you," which i've technically written before (though for august walker) but i was excited for it all the same! i knew i wanted to write for bucky and had a couple ideas but ended up running with this one. not much here other than some hurt/comfort fluff, but i hope y'all enjoy!

-

Your scream pierced the night sky. Despite your best efforts to fend him off, your opponent’s knife had sliced a deep gash in the outside of your thigh. Though you managed to land a fist against his temple, sending him flying into a tree, your leg collapsed and you fell to the snow-covered ground.

You’d barely had time to check the cut and make sure it didn’t hit anything serious when a crashing sound from the woods beyond the clearing caught your attention. Bucky Barnes, in his full Winter Soldier getup, strapped with more weapons than a small army, raced into the clearing and caught sight of you on the ground. His blue eyes flared with fear and rage, a combination you’d never seen on the man before.

Bucky crunched through the snow, his black combat boots eating up ground faster than any normal human, but you noticed he’d lost some of his inhuman stealth, making more noise than you’d expect of the Winter Soldier. It was like he was being careless in his need to get to you. When he reached you, he dropped to the ground and began examining your wound. It occurred to you that you should be afraid to have the Winter Soldier so close, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to fear Bucky even after only knowing him a few weeks.

For a little under two months, you’d been assigned to the SHIELD team that acted as support for the Avengers. You’d moved into Avengers Tower, per your orders, even though you’d had a perfectly good apartment in Brooklyn. Maria Hill had told you Tony Stark insisted anyone working with the Avengers had to live in the tower in case they needed to leave at a moment’s notice.

One night shortly after you’d moved in, you’d been complaining about leaving your apartment behind to Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton in the kitchen when Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes had walked in. When they’d heard you lived in Brooklyn, it launched a long conversation about whether certain staples of the borough were still there. Steve had done most of the talking, with Bucky only saying one or two words at a time. But when you’d taken them on a tour of modern Brooklyn, Bucky had opened up a little more, pointing out all the places he’d saved Steve from getting his ass kicked when they were growing up. 

After that, you and Bucky had fallen into a tentative friendship, both preferring the quiet of the Avengers Tower library to the raucous team-building nights Tony insisted on. Sometimes Steve would join you, sketching or reading while you and Bucky would lay tangled up on the overstuffed couches and read. Once or twice, Bucky asked you for book recommendations and then you’d discussed them when he’d finished reading. He enjoyed fantasy over contemporary fiction, and you were more than happy to share some of your favorites with him.

Even still, your friendship with Bucky was new and you were still trying to learn how to read him, especially since the most you heard him talk was about books. In the field, you’d found he shut down even more, like he would default to his Winter Soldier programming and go nonverbal. You’d only been on two other missions with him, but after both, it had taken hours before he spoke. Which was why it shocked you to hear him say anything in that snow-covered clearing.

“Who did this to you,” he demanded in a gravelly rasp, the black half-mask he wore over the lower half of his face making it sound more menacing than you knew he intended. The way he’d said it left no room for argument, so you pointed to the Hydra agent that was beginning to rouse from where you’d dropped him. 

Bucky quickly unzipped his black leather jacket and tore off a strip from the white t-shirt he wore beneath it, tying the fabric around your leg to staunch the bleeding. You bit your lip to keep from crying out, but Bucky noticed the way your body jerked from the pain and his hands gentled as he tied off the ends of the makeshift bandage. 

When he was done, Bucky stood, just as the Hydra agent was getting his feet underneath him. With his metal fist, Bucky punched the man in the face and you could hear the crunch of his nose breaking in the silent woods. The Hydra agent flew back and glanced off a tree, falling limply into the snow.

You were pretty sure he was unconscious but that didn’t seem to be good enough for Bucky, who kept stalking toward the enemy. His other hand unclipped a gun from the holster on his thigh, uncaring that the man wasn’t awake to fight back. Bucky stood over the unconscious man and fired two shots into the Hydra agent’s head, then re-holstered his gun.

When Bucky turned back to you, his face was a mask of coldness, but he picked you up with gentle hands. He cradled you carefully in his arms as he took off through the woods, faster than you ever would’ve thought possible. As you passed through the trees in the Sokovian countryside, you heard the sounds of fighting, but they were behind you and grew increasingly distant the more Bucky’s strong legs carried you away.

Finally, you reached the Quinjet and Bucky carried you inside, setting you down on one of the seats and kneeling in front of you. When he saw that you’d already bled through the strip of cotton he’d tied around your leg, Bucky made a small sound you couldn’t decipher. Then he stripped out of his leather protective jacket entirely and tugged his t-shirt over his head. 

You were left with a shirtless Winter Soldier—the first time you’d ever seen him shirtless—and you were too stunned to do anything but sit there and stare. Bucky’s chest looked chiseled from granite, even as his skin shone with a light sheen of sweat. If you’d been any less dumbfounded by the sight of Bucky’s bare chest, you may have reached for him and tried to trace the curve of his pecs and shoulders with your fingertips. 

As it was, Bucky tying his full t-shirt around your leg to bandage your wound brought you back to the present. The sharp sting of pain shot up and down your spine and you cried out, unable to stop yourself when you hadn’t been prepared for it. 

“Sorry,” Bucky muttered, his voice clearer. It was only then that you noticed he’d taken off his mask, dumping it on the floor of the Quinjet next to his jacket. You watched as he deliberately gentled his hands while he looped the t-shirt around your leg again and tied it off. “That should hold until we get back to the tower,” he said, standing up.

You knew you should say something, like thank you, but your mouth hung open as you stared straight at Bucky’s abs. The most you managed to do was trail your gaze up his torso, taking in the wide expanse of his pale chest and the way his muscles shifted beneath his skin as he breathed in and out. You knew you should stop staring, but you couldn’t seem to manage it.

“Sorry,” Bucky mumbled. That finally distracted you from the sight in front of you as you looked up at him with a confused frown. “I know it’s not a pretty sight,” he continued, reaching up and using his hand to shield where his vibranium arm was fused to his body. 

Your stomach flipped with a sickening feeling at his vulnerability and the thought you’d made him feel insecure. Before you could stop yourself, you reached for his arm and tugged it away, grateful he let you. 

Bucky was right, it wasn’t necessarily pretty, mainly because Hydra had done a miserable job when they attached the prosthetic arm. But your first and foremost thought was to worry about whether it hurt him. You traced a finger so gently along the scarred skin next to the prosthetic you weren’t sure he could feel it, but Bucky’s big body shuddered slightly so you knew he could. 

“Does it hurt?” you asked in a soft voice, eyes flicking up to Bucky’s blue gaze, unsure if that was okay to ask.

Bucky’s intense eyes met yours and he shook his head. His mouth was set into a grim line, but he didn’t pull away or try to stop you.

You breathed a small sigh of relief at his answer, your fingers shifting to the cool metal of his prosthetic arm and down the length of it. When your fingers reached his vibranium hand, you turned it over gently, so you could draw a circle on his palm. You looked up at him. “Can you feel that?” you asked, your voice less tentative.

Bucky shook his head again but his face contorted in a perplexed expression. “I can’t feel it, but I know how it should feel,” he explained slowly, picking out his words carefully.

You hummed in understanding and nodded. Ducking your head, you dropped a kiss to Bucky’s metal palm before you looked back up at him. “Thank you for coming for me,” you said with a soft smile. 

Kneeling down again, Bucky cupped your face in his warm hand and gave you a serious look. “Don’t thank me for taking care of you,” he said, his voice low and somber. “I wish I’d gotten there before you were hurt.”

You offered him a wry smile, glancing down to his stubbled chin, unable to hold his serious gaze for too long. “Peril of the job, I guess,” you tried to joke, glancing back up at his intense blue eyes. 

Bucky grunted in acknowledgement, but his mouth pulled down in a frown that was almost comical. You had to hold yourself back from giggling, then worried the blood loss was getting to you. Tiredly, you leaned back in the Quinjet seat, still holding Bucky’s metal hand in your lap. 

Gently, Bucky slipped his hand from your grip and stood. Gathering you up in his arms, he turned and sat down on the jet’s seat, holding you firmly on his lap. You were positioned sideways across his legs, and you leaned your head against his shoulder, his warm skin feeling nice against your cold cheek. 

“When you’re healed, I want you to train with me,” Bucky murmured, adjusting you on his lap, pulling you closer to his chest. “If I can’t always be with you, I want to know you can take care of yourself.” His strong arms were heavy around your waist but you enjoyed their weight.

“My SHIELD training not good enough for you?” you teased in a sleepy voice, snuggling closer to him, your hands resting on his chest. You felt so safe and secure in Bucky’s lap with his arms around you, you couldn’t help but start to succumb to the exhaustion you felt.

Bucky grumbled, the sound rumbling through his chest where you were pressed against him. For a long moment, he didn’t answer and you thought he simply wouldn’t, but then he spoke. “I just want you safe.” 

“Okay, Buck,” you murmured as warmth bloomed in your chest and you hid a smile against his neck. With your face buried against him, you let the scent of his skin—something fresh mixed with pine—calm you. He ran a soothing hand up and down your spine, settling you further. You were nearly asleep when you continued speaking, knowing he’d be able to hear your whispered words. “Want you safe, too.”

Bucky squeezed you lightly in his arms, then went back to holding you close and running his hands over your back and legs like he couldn’t stop touching you—couldn’t stop making sure you were safe. Eventually, you dozed off, content to let the Winter Soldier take care of you. You knew you were more than safe in Bucky’s arms.

⫸⫸30 Day Writing Trope Challenge Masterlist⫷⫷

[angellbarnes]

man, I've been gone from this whole writing this for a while now, huh... what better way to get back into it with a 30 day writing commitment, right? hopefully it'll stick, but let's not be surprised if it doesn’t fit into 30 days exactly...

as per, to coming back to my writing, my account has seen a change of scenery. I’ve changed my account name, too, from @thundering-barnes to @angellbarnes (which is the same as my wattpad username (which I’m also yet to post on)) oops.

anyway, I saw another account that did this (@witchywithwhiskey) and wanted to try my own! I borrowed some from hers and added a bunch of my own, put it in a randomising list and here we are. I thought as a good way to get back into my writing flow, I can try out a load of tropes/AUs I've been wanting to write for and some new ones as well! I’m super excited to be writing for all you lovelies again🤍

I will be writing for Marvel characters (probably mostly Bucky), but maybe some of the actors' other characters. We'll see, I guess.

so, here's the list...

•••

warnings will be written at the beginning of each fic. also expect language in probably all of them

•••

day 1 - firefighter AU - sparks flying (bucky)

day 2 - rivals - denial is best served hot (bucky)

day 3 - forced proximity

day 4 - wedding

day 5 - pregnancy

day 6 - mutual pining

day 7 - zombie apocalypse AU

day 8 - professor x student

day 9 - fake dating

day 10 - enemies to lovers

day 11 - roommate AU

day 12 - double date

day 13 - bartender AU

day 14 - drunken confessions

day 15 - pets

day 16 - partners in crime/ride or die

day 17 - mental health

day 18 - devils and angels AU

day 19 - training session

day 20 - superpowers

day 21 - mafia AU

day 22 - heartbreak/breakup 

day 23 - friends to lovers

day 24 - “I didn’t know where else to go”

day 25 - soulmate AU

day 26 - argument

day 27 - “who did this to you?”

day 28 - sex pollen

day 29 - relationship

day 30 - hurt/comfort

[whumpuary]

Whumpuary 2025!

(edit in case anyone actually reads this, i messed up and put "i'm fine" in twice for day 25 and alt prompt, so either ignore that or you can use "do it" as an additional alt prompt)

these prompts came together through community submissions and then a voting form where people voted for their favorites, here are the top 53 prompts

i want to try a slightly new format where there are still only 15 days for creation prompts but with additional community prompts/questions. those are entirely voluntary but are here to possibly inspire some community interaction and trying new things

i'm excited to see some awesome creations in january!

go here for info/rules/tagging go here for faqs

(note: number 31 is not a creation prompt and therefore not required to complete the challenge, it's just colored black so the colors add up)

text version of the prompts and rules is under the cut

(image description note: there are 31 numbered prompts, on each odd number the text color is black and on even numbers the text color is white)

Whumpuary 2025

a whump-themed multi media creation event for january

create for at least one prompt from each odd/black number to complete the challenge community prompts (even/white) numbers are voluntary

main prompts

1. sacrifice | headache | "this will hurt" 2. how did you find the whump community? 3. choice | storm | black eye 4. what are your favorite whump tropes? 5. "do you trust me" | manhandled | chills 6. share your favorite whump creations (others or yours!) 7. unfair fight | insomnia | "no one is coming" 8. what media genre do you like whump in? 9. trapped under rubble | gunpoint | out of time 10. write your own whump prompt 11. "i didn't ask for this" | blood | abandoned 12. create something in a new/less familiar medium 13. close call | sleep | choking 14. what's your favorite character dynamic? 15. handcuffed | dead | "please, stop" 16. leave a comment on a whump fic/art/creation 17. drugged | "i'm glad you're alive" | revenge 18. favorite whump medium? (movie, book, art, ...) 19. "let them go" | overworked | head injury 20. send a nice message to someone in the community 21. bruises | "who are you?" | immortality 22. take 10 minutes to work on a wip 23. backhand slap | alone | "i can't do this anymore" 24. what do you take inspiration in? 25. "i'm fine" | missing | drowsiness 26. draw/doodle something whumpy 27. stuck in a loop | twisting the knife | rescue 28. find a creator in the #whumpuary tag and send them an ask 29. kidnapped | "don't leave me" | devotion 30. make a whump meme 31. say something nice about your own work

alt prompts

hiding impaled "i'm fine" rain betrayal hair pulling darkness falling (added later, not in the image: "do it")

rules & info

-any medium is allowed (art, writing, gifs, edits, ...) -prompts are open for interpretation (but the context does have to be whumpy) -create for at least one of three prompts on creation prompt days (black/odd numbers) to complete the challenge -if you're not aiming for completionist you can do however many prompts you want any way you want -community prompts (white/even numbers) are voluntary and don't count for completionist (but can be combined with creation prompts if applicable) -use alt prompts to replace main prompts you don't like some works posted on tumblr will be reblogged if tagged correctly -#whumpuary2025 -#whumpuaryno1 (number of the prompt(s)) -#sacrifice #head injury #"i'm fine" (the prompt(s) you're using) -any trigger/content warning tags -any additional tags (fandom, oc, other used tropes, ...)

[drabblesandsnippets]

Imagine... Masterlist

Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female reader

December Daze Challenge 2024 - Huge thanks to @the-slumberparty for creating this event - I had so much fun writing these imagines/drabbles! More thoughts here 🩶

Specific tropes (*will be turned into longer fics)

Day 1 | Day 4 | Day 14 | Day 27 - Possessive!Bucky Day 16 | Day 25 - CEO!Bucky Day 22 - Mob!Bucky Day 7 - Stalker neighbor!Bucky* Day 13 - Roommate!Bucky* Day 2 | Day 18 - Bucky with a breeding kink Day 9 - enemies to lovers Day 26 - friends to lovers* Day 29 - Bucky x virgin!reader Day 19 - fake dating (fluff) Day 23 - first-time parents (fluff) Day 30 - Bucky x single mom!reader (fluff)*

Established relationship - fluff/smut

Day 3 - baking together but neither know what you're doing Day 6 - *hand on forehead* oh gosh, you're burning up! Day 8 - apple cider and a nice book Day 11 - this snowmaze seemed fun until I got lost Day 12 - the car broke down and the snow is getting deep Day 17 - an unexpected guest at the holiday gettogether Day 20 - there's only one left and I need it more than you Day 21 - the electricity is out, let's keep each other warm Day 24 - is it those cookies that smell delicious or is it you? Day 28 - can I put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth? Day 31 - cabin-core!

Fluff

Day 5 - I worked so hard on dinner but nothing turned out Day 10 - secret santa but somehow nobody picked me Day 15 - working on christmas eve

Main Masterlist

Banners by @cafekitsune - Divider by @saradika-graphics

[zepskies]

Podcast Interview With Idling in the Impala: "Y/N and Let Y/N…"

Here we go! Sandra and Kasey, the lovely hosts of @idlingintheimpalapodcast — the podcast for all things SPN and fanfiction — invited me on the pod for an interview…

We chatted about Dean Winchester and Jensen Ackles’ early roles, the best and worst seasons of SPN, the joys and pains of writing Soldier Boy, and much, much more.

That’s right, there be some hot takes coming in this convo, and I had an absolute blast with these two! (And like I said in Sunday's announcement, I’m also putting my name and my voice out there for the first time! 😆)

So if any of that sounds interesting, feel free to dive in!

(**Important Note: Just to preface, we recorded this back in June, so it was before I posted certain stories or even started developing Lost on You. It was also when Tumblr activity/engagement was going through a spring/summer slowdown lol.

Links to all the fics and podfics we mentioned are at the end of this post.)

Have a listen: ⤵️

Interview Timestamps –

(Plus fic recs, SPN writer shoutouts, and more!)

1:44 – Who’s your guy: Sam or Dean?

3:35 – Getting into Supernatural for the first time (and seeing “Deanisms” in Jensen’s early roles).

10:15 – We debate the best and worst seasons of SPN: talking Mary Winchester, the British MOL, MOC Dean vs. Demon Dean, Chuck/God villainy, “jump the shark” moments, and that ending.

30:29 – Favorite SPN characters besides Sam and Dean.

32:34 – Writing fanfiction, joining Tumblr, and writing reader inserts vs. OCs.

38:05 – To “Y/N” or not “Y/N,” and the power of 2nd person. (**Disclaimer: Despite my hot take on this, I’ve loved a lot of stories by authors who use Y/N in reader insert stories.

Also, if I’m remembering the book You and its characters incorrectly forgive me, it’s been like 5 years since I read it lol.) 

51:00 – Favorite fanfic tropes in romance, the joys and challenges of writing Soldier Boy (AKA: the Original Asshole), and attempting to humanize Ben in Break Me Down.

Shoutout to @deans-spinster-witch always for giving me the inspiration to write BMD. 💚

Why We Love The Boys – A review of Supes Ain’t Always Heroes

1:07:57 – Engaging with readers, tips on increasing engagement, optimizing your Tumblr blog, writing schedules and processes, and incorporating reader feedback into stories.

1:26:38 – Sandra graciously narrated Midnight Espresso (Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader). We chat about what sparked the idea for the ME-verse, self-representation in fanfic, feeding Dean, loving Dean, and writing about culture and ethnicity in the fandom space.

1:38:26 – Chatting about the inspirations behind Smoke Eater, a firefighter!Dean AU; law enforcement procedurals, House MD, and researching for stories.

1:44:30 – Which Jackles character is the easiest or most fun to write?

1:47:39 – The challenges of writing Sam vs. Dean.

1:53:15 – Shoutouts! To some of my favorite SPN authors. I could only remember a few people off the top of my head (stupid me), but I love all of you!!

@waynes-multiverse @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @luci-in-trenchcoats @rizlowwritessortof @waywardxwords

@deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @deanwritings @spnbabe67 @thatonewriter15

@justagirlinafandomworld @kaleldobrev @artyandink @princessmisery666 @wayward-dreamer (– and many more.)

2:00:40 – How I came up with my username.

2:05:04 – Kasey’s Secret Question…

2:07:38 – Advice to fanfic writers and creatives for inspiration and/or wisdom.

2:16:35 – Sandra and Kasey’s lovely outro: self-representation in fandom, escapism, diverse voices, and more. (“Reach out a hand. Touch somebody. …Not like that.”)

📖 Fics Mentioned:

Sandra: @talltalesandbedtimestories -

Some Sunny Day Series – Dean Winchester x OFC - (I'm in the process of reading this entire series and it's been a joy to read! 💜)

Past Due – Dean Winchester x Reader

The Iceman Cometh – Dean Winchester x Reader

Cowboy Canter (Original Fiction) – Inspired by cowboyish Dean/Jensen.

Kasey: @sam-is-my-safe-word -

English Cottage-verse – Sam Winchester x Reader (I've read it and it's fantastic! 💜)

(K)not for sale – Soldier Boy x Dean Winchester

Alex (Zep/Me) -

Break Me Down – Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Midnight Espresso (& the Series Masterlist) – Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Dream With Me – Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Smoke Eater – Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Every Second Counts – Russell Shaw x F. Reader

🎙️ Stories/Podfics Sandra has narrated for me:

Podfic Playlist

And please remember to check out all the other awesome interviews, narrated podfics, and fun topics covered by Sandra and Kasey on the Idling in the Impala Podcast!

[richonneevents]

Richonne Fictober 2024 Rules, Guidelines, & Calendar

Richonne Fictober 2024 is a 31 day challenge for fanfiction writers/creators to write/create and publish a Richonne-centric story or related content everyday for the month of October.

Fics should be between 100 and 5,000 words. Rick and Michonne must be the main pairing. Richonne is an interracial pairing, so be mindful of tropes and language that perpetuates racism and misogynoir. Rick is a canonically disabled character, so be mindful of using tropes and language that is ableist. Fanartists should be mindful of not whitewashing Michonne, Andre, and RJ in their pieces.

Please tag @richonneevents and use the tag: #richonnefictober24

Be sure to tag your prompt and which day you are filling.

In addition to Richonne-centric fanfiction, creators are encouraged to make fanart; playlists; edits; moodboards; rec lists; graphics; podfics; gifsets; photo sets; fanvids etc.

WEEK 1

Day 1: Making Caramel / Candy Apples

Day 2: Seasonal Shopping (Clothes, decor, etc.)

Day 3: “The leaves are changing!”

Day 4: “Pumpkin spice...what?!”

Day 5: Autumn Breeze

WEEK 2

Day 6: Overcast Morning

Day 7: Bobbing for Apples

Day 8: Pumpkin Patch Visit

Day 9: Rainy Day

Day 10: Scarecrow

Day 11: Haunted Hayride / Haunted House

Day 12: Horror Movie Marathon

WEEK 3

Day 13: Jumping in A Leaf Pile

Day 14: Warm Apple Cider / Hot Chocolate etc

Day 15: Corn Maze

Day 16: By The Fire(place)

Day 17: Candles 

Day 18: Flannel

Day 19: Nestled Under Blankets

WEEK 4

Day 20: Festival 

Day 21: First Frost

Day 22: Kissing In The Rain

Day 23: Baking Pies

Day 24: Cemetery Stakeout 

Day 25: Black Cat

Day 26: Dead-End

WEEK 5

Day 27: Underneath The Sky

Day 28: Full Moon

Day 29: Carving Jack o’ Lanterns

Day 30: Costume Party

Day 31: Trick or Treat

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Home For Christmas - Jake Seresin x OC

A/N: This is my entry for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Writing Challenge, with the trope childhood friends. I was watching a lot of romcoms last night and felt inspired, it's definitely heavily influenced by 13 Going on 30, Just Friends + Sweet Home Alabama. (I realize only one of those is set in the winter, but I digress). I'm debating a part two/epilogue as well, if anyone is interested! Also super proud of this one, because it's the longest fic I've ever written.

pairing: Jake Seresin x OC

warnings/content: none, lots of fluff and pining. Jake's been promoted to Captain. Probably a lot of inaccuracies.

word count: 7.7k (literally my longest one yet, I'm sorry)

tagging anyone who might be interested: @littleenglishfangirl, @floydsmuse, @sailor-aviator, @mamachasesmayhem 🤍

December, 1999

“Jake! Jake, wait up!��� 

“Run faster then, I gotta get home before the street lights come on or my mama’s gonna be so mad she won’t let you come over tomorrow!” 

“Jake, your mama’s not gonna say no to me comin’ over and you know it.”

“Jenna, how you ever gonna keep up with me when I join the navy and start having to run a few miles every day?”

Jake turned around to face you for a moment, running backwards with a grin plastered on his face, his baby-faced cheeks red from the cold, his green eyes full of mischief as he watched you try and keep up with him. His sandy blonde hair stuck out slightly from underneath his Dallas Cowboys baseball cap, a handmedown from his older brother that he rarely left home without since Matt had given it to him. He stopped running, placing his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, the cold air stinging his throat as he panted. You finally managed to close the distance between the two of you, raising an eyebrow as you panted, your own cheeks ruddy from the combination of cold winter air and physical activity. 

You and Jake had been best friends as long as you could remember. In eleven years, you couldn’t name a single time where the two of you had as much as had a disagreement, or went more than a few hours without talking to one another. Your mothers had been best friends in high school, and you two were destined to be best friends since birth - born four days apart in the same hospital, living on the same street and having your first play date at 10 and 7 days old. Jake was four days older than you, and he never let you forget it when it came to matters where age or maturity played a role. However, where Jake had four days more experience in the world, you had multitudes more experience in dealing with hardship than any eleven-year-old child should have. 

Where Jake had the picture-perfect family - a mom, a dad, an older sister, an older brother and him, all living in perfect harmonious happiness, never as much as a doubt as to whether or not there was love in his household, you had the opposite. An absent father, an only child, and a mother who worked two jobs to try and make life better for the two of you, you spent almost every waking minute with Jake and his family, not only as an escape to experience the happy, blissfully carefree life he lived, but also, as a favour to your mother, with Mrs. Seresin often volunteering to care for you when your mother had to work late or work on weekends. 

You were at the Seresin home almost every night, with Jake’s mother fussing over her best friend’s daughter, helping her lifelong friend however she could in guiding her little girl, you acting as the surrogate daughter that part of her had always wanted. Jake’s father trying to fill in the blanks where your father had lacked - offering to coach sports teams and including you in games of catch with Jake and his brother, taking you and the boys to get new baseball gloves or soccer cleats when needed, taking the three of you for ice cream after a big achievement in life. Jake’s 16 year old sister, Bethany, would take time to do your hair in the mornings before school whenever she had a chance, offering to do it in all the fun styles she and her friends wore, the kind you were often envious of, passing you old tubes of lip gloss she had lingering around in her backpack on your way to school, encouraging you to use them to your hearts content.  Even Matt, who at 14, thought his brother and his brother’s friends were the most irritating beings in existence, had offered you old sports jerseys of his that no longer fit, teasing you the same way he’d tease Jake, treating you like the little sister he never had. 

Until this past summer, you found yourself wishing most days that Jake’s family would just adopt you, let your mother move in with them and the two of you could just officially be a part of their fun, bustling family that served as your cheerful escape from life. However, when elementary school ended in June with middle school looming around the corner, Bethany had pulled you aside to talk to you about the transition between schools. 

“You know, middle school is…different. It’s not bad. It’s just…things change sometimes. You and Jake might start going on dates with people from school, and it might change your relationship. It happens,” She’d said matter of factly, not mincing words as she shrugged her shoulders, fixing her frosted eyeshadow in the mirror before turning to face you again.

“You might even develop feelings for each other.”

At the time, her words didn’t hold meaning for you. You and Jake had been best friends since Jake was four days old. Your moms were best friends. You practically lived in their home. There was no way things could change between you. You could never have a crush on Jake. He was Jake, the boy who would hide under his mama’s kitchen table with you and a flashlight, swapping baseball cards with one another, the boy who, when you were six-years-old, you’d witnessed eat an entire package of Oreos, then laughed at as he proceeded to throw up an hour later from the sheer volume of chocolate-vanilla sandwich cookies he’d consumed that day. Jake could never be someone you’d have a crush on. He was your best friend. That would never change.

It was two weeks later when Jake had been on the baseball diamond, pitching an inning of Little League with you in the stands watching on. His baseball cap had been flipped backwards to mimic one of his favourite major league players, his green eyes narrowing in concentration with every pitch he threw out. His golden blonde hair poked out the front of his baseball cap, much like it was doing today, on this cold January evening. His focus was on nothing but baseball, while yours was on everything but when it came to him. When he happened to look your way during the game, you felt a weird feeling in your stomach - a bubbling sensation, like nerves that couldn’t be settled. Your cheeks flushed, turning a pale pink as they became warm to the touch, reddening slightly as you felt Bethany’s gaze fall on you, a grin forming on her face as you proved her right about how your feelings were evolving for Jake. 

Since that day, you’d found yourself continuing to crush on him, each day your feelings grew deeper and more intense than the day before. At this point, you almost swore you could see yourself marrying him one day. You had to admit, you knew everything there was to know about him, you always had fun with him, and he was always happy to see you - you were convinced you two could be as happy and as in love as his parents were someday when you and Jake got older. You’d never tell Jake, you just hoped and prayed that he’d realize one day that he felt the same way about you as you felt about him. You knew there was always the chance that it might not happen, but you didn’t want to think about that.  In fact, as far as you were concerned, you hoped that there was never a day where Jake didn’t love you as wholeheartedly as your little eleven year old self loved him.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ 

Present Day

“Jake, please, come back. I miss you,”

“I miss you too, Jenna, I’m coming home to you. It’s always been you.”

The ear-piercing screech of your phone’s alarm blared from your nightstand, interrupting your dream as it screamed at you. You rolled over in bed, groaning as you clumsily stuck your hand out, feeling around on the wooden side table for your phone to silence it and allow yourself a few more moments of peace and quiet before you had to start your day. The last think you wanted right now was to let this dream slip away on you - it was the closest you’d ever find yourself to Jake professing his love for you after all these years, and you clung to it whenever it cropped up in your mind as you slept. 

Jake had always been the one-who-got-away for you. You spent your entire middle school years trying to hide your feelings for him, refusing to break until he said how he felt first. You were 13 when he got his first girlfriend, Tiffany Donaldson, a girl in your class. Tiffany was pretty and popular, something that you couldn’t claim for yourself in either case - growing up with Jake, you were seen as more of a teammate or a sister-figure than anything else, despite his sister’s best efforts to help you shake that connection somewhat. After Tiffany, you two had begun high school, and Jake made the football team, and the baseball team. As the school’s star runningback and starting pitcher for the varsity team, Jake was popular beyond words. No one could hold a candle to him, and as his popularity soared because of his athletic prowess in school, you faded further and further back into obscurity, the limelight falling from you and onto someone new each time Jake began dating another girl. Eventually, by the time graduation rolled around, you and Jake had all but fallen out of touch with each other outside of family get-togethers shared between your mothers. 

You had just worked up the courage to tell him your feelings at the graduation party Jake’s parents had thrown for you both, convincing yourself that it was perfect timing - Jake had accepted an offer at the University of Texas at Austin, keeping close to home as he planned to study finance, his secret talent having always been math. You’d accepted an offer to study communications at the same school, and with both of you remaining local, it would be the perfect time to tell him how you felt and attempt a relationship with him, or so you thought.

Before the words could even leave your mouth, Jake was excitedly pulling you aside at the party, stopping outside of his childhood bedroom, the place where the two of you had often played as kids. His green eyes were full of excitement as he looked at you, causing your heart to race as butterflies fluttered in your stomach, making it hard to concentrate on his words. You almost didn’t hear him when he spoke, you were so transfixed on him. If the news had been anything else, you probably wouldn’t have even registered what he’d said the first time. You could still hear the excitement in his voice as he told you his news, and still feel the ache in the pit of your stomach as his words fell on your ears.

“I got accepted! I’m going to the Naval Academy, Jenna, can you believe it? I’m going to serve in the Navy, just like I always wanted. I’m going to be the best aviator they’ve ever seen. Just you watch.” 

Jake’s voice was practically buzzing with excitement as he’d told you his news, and it took everything you had in you to not fall apart as he spoke. While you knew he’d always dreamed of being a naval aviator, as long as you could remember, the news hit you like a ton of bricks, unexpected and hard as it rendered you speechless, leaving you nodding your head and smiling like an idiot while inside you wanted nothing more than to scream out how you felt. You knew this could never work out between you now. Your chance was gone, moving away to Maryland and joining the Navy before you’d even had a second to realize what was happening when he spoke. 

That was 17 years ago, and the moment still haunted you from time to time, more than you’d like to admit to anyone. At first, you’d kept in touch with Jake and his family, seeing Jake when he came home for holidays and such at first, but then, as you and Jake began entering your first romantic relationships as adults, you found yourselves including each other less and less in your lives. With each boyfriend you had, you realized more and more that you could never love them the way you loved Jake -he’d always be your first love, regardless of how he felt in return. When Jake graduated, he’d been stationed at NAS Lemoore, swapping Maryland for California. You’d still hear the odd update from your mother, who remained in touch with Jake’s parents, but otherwise, you didn’t ask much about Jake’s adult life. You knew he’d never married, that he’d become a Top Gun graduate, and held true to his word about becoming one of the greatest fighter pilots in the United States Navy, but other than that, you knew little about his life now. Last you had heard, last Christmas, he’d been stationed in San Diego. 

You sat up in bed, yawning and stretching your body out before heaving a heavy sigh and shaking your head to rid yourself of thoughts of Jake. You were preparing for a trip back home to Texas for the holidays, spending three weeks back with your mother, part of you wishing and longing for Jake to be visiting his family at the same time, while the other part of you prayed he was staying in California or serving a tour so he wouldn’t be able to be there while you were. It had been close to 15 years since you’d seen him, and the last thing you needed was to be reminded of how you strongly you felt. You didn’t need the help from seeing him. The memories of him were more than enough to keep you clinging on. 

Your phone rang and with bleary eyes, you picked it up, pressing the green button to answer the call.

“Good morning, sweetheart!” Your mother practically sang out in a voice that was far too cheerful for anyone to have at this hour. 

“Hi mama, what’s up? My flight doesn’t land until this evening.” 

“Well, I was talking to Mrs. Seresin about Jake, Matt and Bethany…” Your mother’s voice trailed off as she spoke, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat at the mention of Jake.

“Mhmm?” You responded as you stood up, balancing the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you folded a sweatshirt and set it down neatly on the bed, waiting to be packed.

“It turns out both of us are having our kids home for Christmas! Bethany’s coming down from Dallas with her husband and their little ones, and Matt’s coming from Oklahoma City with his fiancee, and Jake’s flying in on leave from California. He’s made his way up to Captain now, you know, Jenna. He’s made quite the career for himself.”

“Mama, I don’t need a sales pitch on why Jake Seresin is the perfect man for me, ok? He hasn’t seen me in years. He probably wouldn’t even recognize me if he saw me.”

“You never know. But I expect you to dress nicely for their Christmas party. You and I have been invited to join them, and I already said you would gladly be attending.”

“Of course you did. So Jake will be there, then?”

“I think his flight lands just before yours does today, actually. His mama and I were actually discussing if we should just carpool together to pick you both up like back when you two were in school together. Remember that? We used to take turns carting you kids back and forth from home to school.”

“I remember, mama. Don’t worry.”

“Anyway…we were talking and it turns out, Jake happens to be single.”

“Mama, why would I care that Jake’s single?” You replied, trying to sound as level-headed as possible. 

“Please, Jenna. You really think I don’t know about this crush of yours you’ve been harbourin’ for years?” You could hear the laughter in your mother’s tone as she spoke, and it stung, almost as though your feelings had betrayed you.

“Mama! I haven’t had a crush on Jake in years. Not since he left for the Navy.”

“Of course not…just, do me a favour? Wear something nice for that Christmas party, ok?”

“Sure, Mama, whatever you say.”

You finished the conversation with your mother and let out an exasperated sigh as you tossed your phone onto your bed beside you. You had to be at the airport in three hours, leaving you little time to completely reconfigure your wardrobe for the next few weeks at home in Austin. Peering into your closet, scanning the items as they sat on wire hangers in the tiny space, you frowned, realizing that nothing was worthy of a reunion with Jake after all these years. At the back of the closet, you found a black, form-fitting sweater dress that you hadn’t worn in years, but, as you held it up to yourself in the mirror, you figured it could work. Part of you hoped this reunion could be the thing that’d remind Jake of what he was missing out on for the last 17 years. 

As you finished packing your suitcase, you zipped it closed with a sigh, shaking your head as you tried to calm your nerves before getting yourself ready for your flight. There was a chance you could see Jake at the airport, and you knew you had to look your best, just in case. 

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ 

The flight from Chicago to Austin was the most painful three hours of your life. You tried to focus your attention on anything but Jake, but every movie saved on your phone, every book on your tablet, and every thought that crossed your mind was filled with him. You tried reminding yourself that he could be a totally different person from who he was when you were 18. That he could look completely different, act completely different - that he may not even know who you are anymore. The thought of Jake forgetting you was suffocating, closing in on you a little bit more every time it creeped into your mind. You took a deep breath as you departed the plane, your eyes scanning the crowd for your mother as you gripped your carry-on. Your face went white as a sheet as you saw her standing with Mrs. Serensin, both of whom waved frantically with excitement as they saw you.

“Jenna! It’s been so long, darlin’, how have you been? Your mama’s told me lots, but I feel like it’s no substitute for getting to see you in person!” 

“Hi, Mrs. Serensin! I’ve been ok, how have you guys been? Haven’t seen you in about, 15 years? I think I saw y’all the one visit after Jake shipped out, but I haven’t been home much for the holidays, Mama’s usually up in Chicago visiting me.”

“We’ve been good, Bethany has two boys now, Easton and Dylan, and Matt’s met this girl, Alexis, she’s wonderful, a real sweetheart. He’s gettin’ married next summer. “

“Oh, that’s great news!” You replied cheerfully, fighting the instinct to bite your lip as she failed to mention where Jake was at in life. 

“We better get going, Julie, Jake’s plane’s about to land,” Your mother said as she grabbed Mrs. Seresin’s arm excitedly, nodding her head.

“Oh, I thought Jake landed earlier?” 

“He was meant to, but his flight got delayed, he’s landing in a few minutes now, I think.”

You nodded your head slowly, reluctantly following behind as your mom and Mrs. Serensin led the way to Jake’s terminal, biting the inside of your cheek as your eyes followed the signage as you walked past. You tried your best to focus on something, anything, but your nerves but so far, your nerves were winning. You were terrified. What if Jake hated you for not staying in touch? What if he forgot all about you? What if you were the last person he wanted to see? What he if came through those doors with a surprise girlfriend on his arm?

“Ma!” You heard a voice call out. You looked up to see a tall, handsome man with neatly combed blonde hair, piercing green eyes and sunkissed skin. His naval uniform was still perfectly pressed without a crease on it somehow after his flight, and he looked perfect. You knew in an instant that it was him.

“Ms. T?” He chuckled as he shook his head, pulling back from his mother’s embrace as he gave your mother a heartfelt hug, before pausing as he looked at you, a warm smile on his lips as he nodded his head, his blonde eyebrow cocked upwards in surprise. 

“Jenna?”

“The one and only,” You shrugged with a smile as you tried your best to play it cool, forgetting for a moment that at 35 years old, you shouldn’t be getting tongue-tied and start giggling like a schoolgirl over a crush. The mere fact that you still had a crush on Jake was enough to make you feel like a fool.

“It’s nice to see ya, Jenna,” Jake nodded as he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you into his embrace. You breathed in the scent of his cologne, notes of whiskey and cedarwood encircling you as his grip remained tight, yet comfortable around you, as if he was hugging his long lost friend, which, he was in a sense. 

“Nice to see you too, Jake,” You nodded once as he pulled away, a soft smile on your lips as you looked at him, trying to commit this moment to memory before it drifted away on you. 

You swore out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mothers exchange a look with one another, a secret signal to one another, as if a master plan of theirs was underway, and everything was beginning to come together before their eyes.  

As the four of you headed out to the car together, you caught yourself repeatedly stealing glances at Jake. He hadn’t changed hardly at all since you saw him last, apart from gaining some muscle, and his cheekbones and jawline becoming a bit more defined as he’d aged. He looked incredible for 35, if you didn’t know him, you likely would have guessed he was barely 30, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself fall deeper with each stolen look at him. 

“So, you’re Captain Seresin now then?” You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him, hoping to break the silence brewing between the two of you.

“Yeah, this past April! I didn’t expect to get it, to be honest.”

Jake’s cheeks reddened as he smiled at you, trying to appear modest as he spoke of his accomplishments in the Navy since you’d last seen him. He had always used to have an ego so big that it’d rival some of the aircraft around in size, especially as a teenager - he was good and he knew he was good when it came to sports. It was part of what drove the two of you apart, but around you? He was modest like he always had been before, acting embarrassed by the achievements he’d otherwise never shut up about. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think Jake was nervous around you. Jake Seresin, the only service member on active duty with multiple confirmed kills, the US Naval Air Force Captain who’s served for the last 17 years without as much as a scratch on him, the man who graduated top of his class from the Top Gun program, where only the best of the best are selected to participate. Jake Seresin had no need to be nervous about impressing you. He could have impressed you by simply looking your way - but for some reason, he was nervous around you, reduced to a blushing, modest mess.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ 

“Jake’s such a lovely boy,” Your mother said as she sipped her morning coffee, eyes fixated on the news program on her television set. 

“He’s 35, mama, he’s hardly a boy now.”

“Fine, Jake’s a lovely man, he’s still just as sweet as I remember him being when he was young. He comes back to visit whenever he gets a leave and stays for a few days, and he always stops by to say hello - he even asks about you sometimes.”

“He asks about me?”

“He sure does, he asked Julie about you the other day, in fact. He was asking if you’d be home this time at Christmas. Seems you two always come back to visit on opposite schedules and never run into each other. He was saying he’d like to see you again, Jenna.”

Your mother’s words hung in the air for a moment. You took a sip from your coffee mug and furrowed your brow as you thought it over. You dismissed your mother’s words as nothing more than an attempt to set you and Jake up on a date, one that you figured Jake wasn’t going to be a willing participant of. 

“Oh Mama, hush, he probably just said that to be polite because he figured I’d be coming home for the holidays anyway.”

“Jenna, why are you always so stubborn?” Your mother frowned, shaking her head as she let out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not stubborn, I’m just…practical. I’m the only one who seems to realize the fact that Jake and I haven’t seen each other in 17 years, Mama. We’re not the same people we were when we were 18. He could be a serial womanizer with a series of broken hearts left behind waiting for him in California for all I know. He could have 17 kids by different women, or be a serial killer, Mama. I literally know nothing about him anymore.”

“Jenna Elizabeth Taylor, you’re just being ridiculous now,” Your mother frowned as she shook her head, sighing, “I think Julie would have mentioned it if Jake was a father, and do you really think he’s the type to go around breaking hearts for fun? Besides, how could he be a serial killer if he’s busy flying around on missions all the time?”

“You’re missing my point, Ma.”

“No, Jenna, I think you’re missing mine,” She sighed, setting her mug down on the table as she pursed her lips, “My point is, I know you’ve been holding out for him for years. He’s asked his mama about you, he’s been asking if you were coming home, he stops in to see me whenever he comes home - do you really think he’d do all that if he didn’t still feel something for you?”

“Mama, I’m not going to make a fool of myself and throw myself at him, contrary to what you think would work.”

You heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, and when you turned on your heel, you stood face to face with Jake, now sporting a fitted pair of acid-washed light denim jeans and a burnt orange Texas Longhorns football jersey and a brown corduroy bomber jacket shrugged on over top. His blonde hair peaked out from behind his beloved baseball cap, you’d swear it was the same one he’d been wearing since he was 15 if you didn’t know any better, this hat looked like it had been through hell and back.

He’d let himself in through the unlocked front door, almost certainly at your mother’s previous insistence or invitation. His cheeks were blushing again, his green eyes darting between the two of you, a blonde eyebrow cocked upwards as his gaze landed on you.

“Throw yourself at who?” He chuckled, flashing a set of perfect white teeth your way as gave you that same grin that he always did when you were kids. It was the kind of smile that always got him out of trouble, and sometimes, into trouble, depending on the situation. 

“No one,” You said quickly, shooting your mother a warning glance as you shook your head, a few strands of light brown hair falling free from your half-assed ponytail that you’d thrown it up into the night before for bed. You realized that Jake was now standing in your mother’s living room while you were sporting an oversized old Texas Longhorns tee and a pair of sweatpants - not ideal attire for seeing a man you were attracted to in, regardless of your protests about your feelings to your mother. 

“Right,” Jake nodded his head, but the tone in his voice told you he didn’t quite believe a word you were saying, “I know this isn’t a great time, but Ma wanted me to check and see if you and Ms. T were still able to make it tonight, she wanted me to ask in person, and she wanted me to see if you needed my help bringing anything over, she said you were bringing your famous taco dip, Ms. T? I can bring the dish over now for you if you’d like, Ma’s cleared out the fridge of anything that isn’t a necessity for the party so there’s tons of room.”

“Sure, Jake, honey, it’s in the fridge, Jenna can show you where, I just have to run upstairs and grab something to send to your mama’s with you,” Your mother said as she stood up, heading off up the stairs quicker than you could say a word, leaving you and Jake alone in an awkward stance, nothing but the sound of the morning news to fill the silent void between you, until Jake cleared his throat again before pointing his index finger towards the kitchen.

“In here? I’m sure I can find it if you need to go upstairs and get changed.” 

“I’m fine, not like you haven’t seen me in pajamas before, Jake.”

“Well, in my defense, last time we were like, 12.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen a woman in an oversized tee and sweatpants before,” You shrugged nonchalantly, pretending to be completely unbothered by the fact you felt like you were dressed like an absolute slob right now. 

“Alright, lead the way then,” Jake nodded as he followed behind you. 

You felt his eyes make their way down your body, and you swore you could hear him muttering something under his breath as he sauntered into the kitchen after you. You couldn’t make out what he had said, but it sounded almost like a “Jesus Christ” before he coughed and averted his gaze as you turned to face him. You opened the fridge and grabbed the dish containing your mom’s taco dip before setting it on the counter for Jake to take home. You raised an eyebrow at Jake as you caught him staring in your direction, a look of bewilderment on his face. 

“You good, Hangman?”

“Hmm?” Jake said as he shook his head, an awkward laugh escaping his lips as he raised an eyebrow at you, “How did you know my callsign?”

“Because it’s on the back of your jersey, genius.”

Jake raised an eyebrow as he looked down, as if he’d forgotten what shirt he was wearing today. He nodded his head and laughed as he ran a hand through the back of his hair, scratching the back of his neck as he looked back up at you. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Just, uh, jet-lagged, I think.”

“Jet-lagged? Isn’t only two hours behind us in San Diego?”

“You can still feel jet-lag with a two hour difference, Jenna.”

“I’m not stupid, Jake, I know that, but you seem…distracted? Not tired.”

“I’m fine, honest,” He nodded as he shoved his hands into his front pockets, looking around the kitchen as you checked the fridge for the extra shredded cheese and green onions your mother had prepared the night before to top the dip she’d made. 

“Suit yourself, Jake,” You laughed as you set everything out on the counter for him and nodded, “If you give me five minutes to get dressed, I’ll help you bring it over.”

“Five minutes? God, I remember you taking 30 minutes to get ready when we were kids.”

“I was 12, it was 2000, I needed more time to perfect my lip gloss routine. Now I just have to put something warmer and nicer on than a t-shirt and sweatpants.”

“Fair enough, I can wait here. Your mama said she’d back down in a minute with something for Ma anyways.”

“Right, I’ll be back down in five.” 

You turned around and headed back up the stairs, sighing softly to yourself as you entered your childhood bedroom, opening your suitcase as you grabbed out a pair of jeans and a vintage crewneck sweatshirt. You tidied your hair up into a neat ponytail before heading back down the stairs to meet Jake, who was currently talking to your mother in the kitchen, his body leaning against the counter as he spoke. Jake looked up at you, straightening his posture as he saw you. He picked the taco dip up from the counter, along with the reusable shopping bag your mother had packed up of the extra ingredients. Sitting on the counter next to the food was a gift, perfectly wrapped with a gold bow and a tag written out in your mother’s sleek handwriting. Jake’s mother and yours had always exchanged gifts with one another, and it warmed your heart in a sense to see the tradition still carrying on for them. 

“So, you enjoy living in Chicago?” Jake asked, watching you as the two of you headed back from your childhood home, Jake having insisted on walking you back so you could spend some time catching up, even if just for a few minutes. .

“Yeah, it’s a change of scenery. It’s different from Austin for sure. How’s San Diego treating you?”

“It’s pretty good, I like being on the beach. I do miss home sometimes though,” He laughed softly, giving his shoulders a gentle shrug as he looked around at the street you grew up on, just a couple of blocks away from his own childhood home.

“I mean, yeah, I miss my mom sometimes when I’m in Chicago, but, I know it’s easier for me to come home and see her than for you to come home and see your family.”

“Jenna? Can I ask you something?”

“Mhmm?”

“Do you…do you regret leaving for Chicago?”

“No, I wouldn’t be where I’m at now if I hadn’t left. I have a really good career in public relations, and I’m happy with where I’m at professionally. I wouldn’t have gotten that if I stayed in Austin, just like you wouldn’t have gotten as far in the Navy if you hadn’t gone to Annapolis.”

Jake stayed silent for a minute, his eyes looking everywhere but at you, avoiding your gaze. You could sense tension between the two of you. The Jake you knew growing up was never awkward, and never stopped talking - had he really changed that much since he’d left? You couldn’t see the Navy taming him to the point where he became reserved, Jake had always been so outgoing, so full of self-pride that it often came off as cocksure arrogance, but most of the time, it was out of sheer disbelief that he’d made it that far. You looked to him, his hands firmly in his pockets as he let out a huff, his breath turning to vapor in the cool December air. 

“I should really get going,” Jake nodded slowly, checking his watch as he looked back towards the street, “I promised Ma I’d help her set up.”

“Right, right, I’ll see you in a couple hours? Mama and I’ll be there.”

“Perfect, I’ll see you then,” Jake nodded, a warm smile on his features as he turned to start heading back.

You let out a heavy sigh, mentally kicking yourself as you realized you’d just let another opportunity to tell Jake how you felt slip away from you. As you headed up to your bedroom to get ready, moving quickly to dodge any questions from your mother, who was probably desperate to hear how your alone time with Jake had gone. 

You shut the door behind you, sighing again as you sat at your old vanity table, brushing through your hair and sectioning it with a claw clip as you began straightening it, trying your best to calm your nerves and make a decision on how you were going to approach Jake. You wanted to tell him, desperately, how you felt, but, part of you couldn’t help but cling to the fact you might regret it. That you might be disappointed and find out that Jake never felt the same about you, and that he never would. Or that he’d be in a relationship with someone else back in San Diego, someone prettier, younger, smarter, better. 

On the other hand, did you really want to commit yourself to never telling him how you felt? Letting the door shut on the one man you’d loved the longest, the most, and the hardest in your lifetime? Could you really be happy with anyone else? What if something happened to Jake while he was serving and you never got the chance to share how you felt? What if, somehow, there was the off chance he felt the same way about you?

As you finished your makeup, taking a deep breath as you looked yourself over in the mirror, you nodded your head. You had to tell him. There was no way you could let him go back to San Diego without knowing. You couldn’t let this go unsaid any longer, if for no other reason than to give yourself closure. If he rejected you, you could move on - or at least, try to. You could finally let go of your feelings and meet someone, and try your hardest to love them with the same enthusiastic, all-consuming love you felt for Jake. If he felt the same way, you’d apply for a job transfer to Los Angeles as soon as possible, because a three-hour drive was much more manageable of a commute to see him than a flight from Chicago to San Diego. 

This was it, you were going to finally do it. You just needed to get Jake alone.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ 

“Oh, Jenna! It’s been so long, how are you?” 

Bethany’s voice was sweet as honey as she spoke, wrapping her arms around you in a warm embrace, as if she’d been missing you for years and the sight of you reminded her of just how much.

“I’m great thanks, Beth, how are you? Your mama said you have two boys now? Easton and Dylan?” 

“Yeah, they’re 6 and 4, they’re little handfuls like their uncles, but I guess that’s to be expected when you’ve got Jake and Matt as influences for you. My husband’s not much better.” 

Bethany laughed as she gestured towards Jake playing with Easton? Or was it Dylan? Jake’s unmistakeable toothy grin plastered on his face, his green eyes alight with joy as he lifted his young nephew up, tickling him, the young boy’s laughter filling the air as Jake continued to make him laugh. Jake looked up to see you with his sister, smiling as he set the boy down on the floor, ruffling his hair with his fingers before making his way over to you. 

“Jenna! Hey, I’m glad you came.”

“Told you I would, didn’t I?” You laughed, shrugging your shoulders as effortlessly as possible as you tried to play it cool, praying no one saw through the front you were putting up.

“Hey, Jenna, can I…can I talk to you for a sec?” Jake asked sheepishly.

You couldn’t mistake the look on Bethany’s face, biting her lip to hold back a grin. You caught Jake giving her a stare that could make any person stop dead in their tracks, his green eyes practically piercing through his older sister as she tried not to laugh. As you nodded your head, raising your eyebrow at the scene unfolding before you. You followed behind Jake as he led you upstairs to his old childhood bedroom. When he opened the door, you were confronted with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. Old pictures adorned the wall, some including you and Jake as children, with ice cream covered smiles and skinned knees, baseball uniforms and halloween costumes, missing teeth and messy curls. 

“Ma hasn’t changed anything since I left home, I don’t even think she’s bought new bedding for this room.” He chuckled as he looked around the room, his large hands placed firmly on his hips as he stood in the doorway. 

“Still sleeping with those baseball player sheets you had as a kid?” You teased, eyeing the comforter on the bed, neatly made and pulled together, a sign of Jake’s time in the navy.

“You know it, I’m still a big kid, really,” He laughed, nodding his head as he pointed to a picture on the wall before looking over at you, “Remember this one? Your 7th birthday party, I think I snuck an extra little bit of frosting off your birthday cake and my mama almost killed me. She told me I had the table manners of a barn animal.” 

“You did, you used to chew with your mouth full too.”

“I grew out of it at least. I’m a little more civilized now.” Jake replied with a smirk, shrugging his shoulders as he turned to face you, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath before exhaling sharply. You could see Jake chewing at the inside of his cheek, nodding his head as his eyes met yours.

“I have to tell you something, ok?” He finally said, sighing heavily.

“I’m listening, Jake.”

“I should have told you this a long time ago, but…I love you.”

You sputtered for a moment, eyes wide in shock as he spoke. He frowned, clearly expecting a better reaction than what you’d given him. Jake shook his head and took your hand in his, stroking the back of your hand gently with his fingers, which were almost surprisingly soft and smooth to the touch.

“I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way. I don’t care if you just wanna be friends after hearing this, because even though the truth is, I'm scared to be your friend, I would rather have you in my life as a friend than not have you in my life at all. The last 17 years have been spent missing you and wishing I’d said something before I left. That I’d kissed you or held you, or said something, anything to you.” He frowned, nodding his head as he looked to the ground before continuing to speak, his voice beginning to tremble with emotion.

“I was stupid to just go and leave things there, but I’ve been paying for it ever since. No other woman has ever compared to you.”

Without another word, you gripped the front of Jake’s football jersey, using it to give you leverage to pull him in closer, your lips crashing into his just as he looked up at you to see what you were doing. Any initial hesitation either of you felt melted away into the kiss, your lips moving together passionately, Jake’s hands trailing their way down your sides to rest on your hips, pulling your body in closer to his. When he finally pulled away to catch his breath, he maintained a small distance between the two of you, speaking in a low whisper as he watched you bite your now puffy, kiss-bitten bottom lip.

“Is that your way of telling me you feel the same way? Because if you do, I want to take you on a date. And I don't care if it's in the day, or at night, or whenever, as long as it's a real date. And I wanna sit there and tell you how beautiful I think you are, Inside and out. How you’ve always been the most beautiful girl in the world to me, without a doubt. And I wanna have babies with you, and I wanna marry you, and I wanna tell you every day that I love you and I always have." Jake nodded, his cheeks blushing as he scratched the back of his neck again, waiting for your response to his rambling feelings.

“Jake, I’ve spent the last 17 years of my life waiting to hear you say that.”

“I know, I’m sorry, Jenna. I’m so sorry I made you wait.”

“Promise me something, Jake?”

“Anything you want, pretty girl.”

“Promise me you won’t make me wait that long again? I’m not sure I can wait another 17 years for you to ask me to marry you.” 

“Jenna, I swear to you, I’m not making you wait for anything ever again. I’d marry you tomorrow if I didn’t think my mama would have me committed for running off to get married three days after our reunion.”

“You’d marry me tomorrow?”

“With bells on, babe. With bells on. I’d marry you right here, right now, in my beat up Longhorns jersey, and drive off into the sunset with you in my truck if you wanted.”

“I don’t know about that, Captain Seresin,” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him as you felt his hands caress your sides, “As tempting as that sounds, we do have 17 years of lost time to make up for.”

“And I intend to make up for every single second of that with you, Jenna. Here, Chicago, San Diego, I don’t care. I just want you. All of you, completely and totally.”

[hymemena]

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷︶˚. Countdown To Halloween Challenge .꒷꒥꒷︶꒷

Below you will find 31 headcanon questions/prompts for the Spookiest Season, one for each day of October. For multimuse blogs, feel free to pick a different muse every day or just do one muse for the whole month! If you enjoy the challenge, make sure to tag some friends or reblog this post to spread it! I hope everyone has a safe, spooky Halloween! This was inspired by and is not affiliated with @/mimis-memes’ Halloween Countdown Challenge!

1. What does your character do when they're scared?

2. Is your muse squeamish?

3. Does your muse believe in magic? Spirits and demons?

4. Would your muse go to a haunted attraction? What about a corn maze?

5. What is your muse's ideal pumpkin carving stencil?

6. Would your muse put much stock in tarot or oracle card readings? What about astrology?

7. Make a short 3-4 song playlist for your muse during Spooky Season.

8. If your muse could only pick one candy bar to receive while trick-or-treating, what would it be? What would they not want?

9. Describe your muse's perfect Halloween Party invitations!

10. Surprise a writing partner with a starter based on the prompt Costumes! Let the ideas flow!

11. Does your muse see themselves as practical or would they use magic for everything?

12. What does your muse associate with Halloween/Spooky Season?

13. When does your muse start celebrating Halloween? Do they ever stop?

14. Does your muse like to dress up? What is their ideal costume?

15. Your muse just got pranked for Halloween! Write a drabble or an open starter about their reaction to it!

16. If your muse could use Halloween magic to reach out to a loved one who has passed on, would they? Why or why not?

17. What is your muse's stance on Ouija boards?

18.Tell us some Halloween trivia your muse knows! It doesn't have to be correct!

19. How is your muse with the horror genre? Do they enjoy it or dislike it?

20. If your muse found out that someone that they knew was a magical creature, how would they react? Write a drabble/short exchange for this!

21. What does your muse do if the weather is too cold for their costume? Do they layer up or change?

22. What is your muse's reaction to being scared? What do they do in that split second where they think something is about to get them?

23. When did your muse stop trick-or-treating? If they didn't, why not?

24. Does your muse have a comfort food/drink in the fall? What is it? Do they make it or prefer to buy it?

25. Surprise! It's time to write a starter for another mutual! This time the theme is 'scared you!'

26.How does your muse feel about Pumpkin Spice?

27. What is your muse's preferred form of reanimation? Zombies? Electricity? Magic? Explain their favorite tropes for these things and their connection to it.

28. Does your muse like to watch movies or listen to music for the season? If so, what is their favorite movie? Song? Any other media that you may like?

29. Is your muse easy to scare? On a scale of 1-10, how easy is it to scare them? On a scale of 1-10, how advised is it to scare them?

30. Write a short fic/drabble about your muse being lost in a corn maze!

31. Take this quiz to see your muse's Halloween Aesthetic! Once you have it, make a moodboard/aesthetic board/edit of your muse with this theme!

[narcosfandomdiscord]

Narcovember Prompt Roulette List

Saalud a mi gente! We in the Narcos Fandom Forever discord server are excited to bring another 30-day challenge: a multifandom event that we’re nevertheless calling Narcovember. Despite its name, this is open to ALL FANDOMS, NOT JUST NARCOS. Creators are encouraged to submit fanworks (fic, art, gifs, vids, op-eds) for any fandom your heart desires!

This event's format is a bit unconventional. Instead of a prompt for each day of the month, there's a Prompt Roulette Wheel and a Prompt Index (☟ below) featuring numbered items with three prompts each. Every day you'll spin the wheel. The number that comes up on the spin corresponds to a number on the index where you can then pick one of the three prompts.

So for example, say on day one, I spin the wheel and get number 8. I’d go to 8 on the index (titled These Damn Restraints). Of those three prompts, I like Yikes best so that's my day one prompt. Next day, I spin and get 14. I find 14 on the index (Decisions, Decisions, Decisions) and pick one of those for day two's prompt. And so on. Note: If, on Day 2, instead of 14 I got 8 again, I’d spin the wheel again to get a new number. If, for whatever reason, you don’t want to spin twice, you can choose another prompt from that "Book of" that you haven't used (e.g. Day 1, I chose Yikes. So Day 2, I’d go for, "Now you know why I never say anything.") Ideally, we think it’s more fun to not repeat index items, but ultimately it’s dealer’s choice. Aka we're not about to get real fascist policing, aint nobody got time for that.

Here's -> the roulette wheel. Or you can make your own! (Just make sure it has 30 slices.)

Use the hashtag #narcovember or tag us to submit your entries so we can reblog them! A note on the masterlist - bc of the Tumblr-imposed link limit, for now we'll only link the fic. BUT at the end of the month, there will be a comprehensive list with all the contributors’ blogs so ppl can find your other work easily. 

Happy spinning, everybody!

❖ Prompt Index ❖

1 — Book of Genesis

Fanwork inspired by someone else’s fanwork (be sure to tag the creator of the OG work!) 

“The fun begins here.” 

Ghosts

2 — Book of Fuck-ups

Righteous indignation glo-up aka fanwork that corrects a plot misstep or writing blunder that bugs the shit outta you 

“It’s not the what-ifs that fuck you up, so much as the what-might-have-beens.” 

Bite

>>>>>>>>>> more prompts below the cut <<<<<<<<<<<<

3 - Book of Stuff That Goes in the Junk Drawer

Fanwork inspired by a song and include why the song sparked the idea (was it the lyrics, genre? something you thought a character would like? etc) 

“It’s never too late to make history.”

Juice

4 — Book of the Uno-Card-Reverse

Fanwork based on your fav reverse/inverse trope**

“Evil isn’t always forever.” 

Mirrors 

5 — Book of Negative Spaces

Fanwork using a line from a diff show/movie as a prompt (e.g. line from Mad Men, “I don’t think of you at all” in a Narcos fic, line from Band of Brothers, “The only hope you have is to accept the fact that you’re already dead,” in a Hannibal fic, etc etc) 

“We gain more from our mistakes than our success, you know that?”

Pitch

6 — Book of (un)Consciousness

Fanwork inspired by a dream you’ve had (include 1-2 sentence summary of the dream at the beginning of the post) 

“Just dream with me.”

Technicolor 

7 — Book of Time-travel

Fanwork inspired by ancient mythology (Greek, Norse, aztec, celtic, etc. Bible counts as mythology, fuck it) 

“It’s only a matter of time.”

Constellation

8 — Book of These Damn Restraints

Fanwork that ends with 2(+) characters trapped in a phone booth with no way out 

“Now you know why I never say anything.”

Yikes

9 — Book of Fateful Conversations

Fanwork where the plot takes place entirely in the back of a cab OR where one character is the cab driver and the other is the passenger 

“You'd be surprised what you can live with.” 

Cursed

10 — Book of Nepo-baby Levels of Incompetence

Fanwork where character is in a profession they have no business being in with no prior training, so they fake knowing what they’re doing – like imposter syndrome except they’re just actually a fraud (e.g. Rust Cohle is a grief counselor, Richie Jerimovich is a hedge fund manager, Roman Roy is a beat cop) 

“And who hasn’t believed a flattering lie?” 

Evergreen 

11 — Book of Pit Stops

Fanwork that starts with a character hitchhiking and getting picked up by another character(s) 

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.” 

Rush

12 — Book of Balancing In Between

Fanwork whose setting is a liminal space (e.g. empty swimming pool, bar or arcade after hours, airport terminal, church confessional, empty elevator, Twin Peaks black lodge, John Wick continental bar, etc) 

“Good things come in threes.” 

Wire

13 — Book of in Urgent Need of Assistance

Fanwork where a character wakes up on an empty submarine, 300ft underwater, thinking they’re the only person aboard until they run into another character(s) 

“One day I’ll wake up and it won’t hurt so much.” 

Desperate

14 - Book of Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

Crossover for 2(+) fandoms you have used before but 2(+) characters you’ve never used or vice versa 

“All we have are our choices.” 

Crossroads 

15 — Book of How tf Did We Get Here

Fanwork that starts off with 2(+) characters waiting in line at the DMV and ends in a completely different, totally unpredictable, why-and-how-tf-did-we-get-here place 

“There’s a moon a mile from here and nobody home.” 

Ambition

16 — Book of Locally Sourced

Fanwork that mimics a bottle episode, so the entirety of it takes place in a relatively mundane setting (e.g. the stockroom of a store, interrogation room, a hotel lobby, waiting room of a doctor’s office, etc etc) 

“Make yourself comfortable while you can."

Notebook

17 — Book of Inception

Fanwork that provides an origin story for a character that doesn’t have one in canon 

“It (he/she/they) made me who I am.”

Improvement

18 — Book of Mysteries

Fanwork where 2(+) characters have to escape a panic room. Depending on fandom, this can be like the innocent party version that you take your friends to for someone’s bday, or can be an actual doomsday shelter 

“I thought they were with you!?"

Endurance

19 — Book of Near Misses

Fanwork with 2(+) characters from the same movie/show/book who’ve never met 

“Looks like we missed our window.” 

Rattled

20 — Book of Sleight of Hand

Fanwork of partners (romantic, profesh, or both) running into each other unexpectedly while both are doing something criminal/something they know they aren’t supposed to do (e.g. burying a body, carrying out a heist, meeting someone they shouldn’t)

“You can't ask the truth from someone who trades in lies.” 

Brace

21— Book of Nerves of Steel

Fanwork where 2(+) characters do a B&E, but get stuck when the owner unexpectedly comes home, and they whisper-yell argue over how to get out

“You won't believe the day I just had.”

Cortisol

22 — Book of Identity Theft

Fanwork where 2(+) characters meet accidentally bc one has accidentally dialed the wrong number (e.g. Syd [The Bear] tries to call Carm to yell at him for Something Dumb He Did but ends up calling Cousin Greg [Succession] instead) 

“I'm not the one.”

Brand

23 — Book of Just Chaos™️™️™️

Cracked crossover/ship with 2(+) characters from very diff genres (e.g. Dwight Schrute [The Office] & Tommy Shelby [Peaky Blinders], Frenchie [The Boys] x Penelope [Bridgerton], etc) 

“You’re my idiot, forever.” 

Untouchable

24 — Book of Revelation

Fanwork where 2(+) characters are stranded in the desert and in a sick twist, must decide which one of them to leave behind in order for the other(s) to be saved

“I like that I don't have to worry about you.”

Rapture

25 — Book of Reciprocity

Fanwork where 2(+) characters play poker (or any card game that has betting) but the chips are magic and the winner gets extra years of life instead of money (e.g. say, in poker, green chips = $500, blue chips = $1k, red chips = $2k, black chips = $5k. In this scenario, green chips = 6mos, blue chips = 1yr, red chips = 2yrs, black chips = 5yrs, etc) 

“Fine, I'll do it myself.”

Quid-Pro-Quo

26 — Book of Abduction

Fanwork where 2(+) characters get kidnapped by a kooky cult, are thrown into the trunk of a car together and have to figure out how to escape

“Somebody has to be paying attention.” 

Spiral

27 — Book of Caretaking

Fanwork where a character accidentally shoots/stabs/otherwise maims another character and has to perform first responder, triage levels of first aid to save them (dealer’s choice as to whether it's successful bc yolo) 

“Don't make me take care of you.” 

 Ritual

28 — Book of Weaponized Passive Aggression

Fanwork where 2(+) characters attend a dinner party and witness that moment when a couple starts passive-aggressively arguing but not outright fighting in front of the whole table and it’s even more painfully awkward than if they just straight up fought OR the 2(+) characters are the ones arguing making everyone else uncomfortable asf

“I wish you the best and I hope you find it far from me.”

Attitude

29 — Book of the (un)Dead

Fanwork where a character dies and another character shepherds them to the afterlife like their own personal grim reaper

“We bury our dead alive.” 

Siesta

30 — Book of There's No Place Like ...

Back from the dead: a character came back wrong or right, but either way, no one else knows how to handle it

“Even if you make it, you’ll never really go home.” 

Homesick

**There will be a reverse trope list in another post for examples.

[freakrenaissance]

One night of happiness for our poor, sexy soldat! Omg, this was perfect... so hot & just a lil sad...I just imagine the day when he finds her again & 🥹 omg, I loved this!

dancing on the edge of danger

pairing: winter soldier!bucky barnes x reader

summary: you witness a man with a metal arm murder someone in the middle of the night, and when you lock eyes with him, your faint soulmate mark deepens and completes itself. you realize, with no small amount of horror, that you've found your soulmate.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, soulmates, very vague violence/murder, protective/possessive bucky barnes

word count: 2.4k

a/n: day 10 of my 30 day writing trope challenge was soulmate au and i'll be honest, i've never written or read a soulmate au fanfic so i had to do some research 🤓 (the closest i'd gotten was watching the 2009 movie TiMER). anyway, i'm pretty happy with how it turned out, hope y'all enjoy!

-

The man moved with brutal efficiency, his large body managing a stunning grace even as he committed the most violent of acts. You watched in horror from the balcony of your room as he murdered an older couple in the courtyard of the hotel you were staying at. If you hadn’t been awake because you’d had trouble sleeping, and if the couple hadn’t caught your eye with their private laughter, you’d have completely missed the silent crime. If you’d been looking up at the stars above, you never would’ve witnessed the horror that occurred below. 

But you did witness the man murdering the couple, and you were still watching him when he looked up, searching to determine if anyone had seen him commit his brutal act of violence. His eyes landed on yours and you felt a shock, like an electric current, pass through your body. It was so powerful, your knees wobbled, threatening to give out.

A tingling in your wrist drew your attention to your soulmate mark. The half-heart shaped mark had always been fainter than anyone you’d ever known. Your mother had taken you to half a dozen experts when it first appeared, wanting to know what was wrong with it, but the best guess they could offer was that it seemed to indicate you were unlikely to meet your soulmate. 

So when the other half of the heart appeared after locking eyes with the murderous man, and the mark deepened in color, you were nothing short of astonished. It had happened, you’d finally found your soulmate!

Happiness flooded through you, but when you looked back down to the courtyard, the man—your soulmate—was gone. A moment later, he climbed over the railing of your hotel room’s balcony, his heavy combat boots hitting the concrete with a soft thud. You let out a tiny, surprised squeak.

For a moment, you just stared at each other. 

Long, slightly greasy brown hair fell on either side of the man’s face, and his blue eyes were bright in the soft light filtering from your room. You suspected he was handsome, though he wore a black mask covering his face from his nose down to his chin. His left arm was a silver prosthetic with a red star, the shiny metal standing out against the rest of his all-black getup. In your first cursory look at the man, you spotted at least three visible weapons, and realized there were no doubt more you couldn’t see. The elation over finding your soulmate slowly bled into horror as you realized exactly what kind of man you were destined for.

Without even deciding to do so, you took a step back from him, wondering if you could make it inside your room before he caught you. His blue eyes darted down to your feet and when he looked back up, his expression was haunted. 

With careful slowness, the man reached up and removed the mask covering half his face. 

Your first thought was that you were right, he was handsome. Your eyes focused on his mouth, his soft pink lips set amidst the scruff that covered his jaw. He looked like he was trying to speak, his mouth working but no words coming out at first. Finally, he managed one. 

“Mine.”

It was a statement and a question, and that note of uncertainty halted your retreat. The man’s blue eyes swirled with too many emotions for you to pick out any in particular, and it gave you the sense that he felt overwhelmed. Your heart gave a sympathetic thump and your instincts pushed you to help him. 

Holding up your hand, with your wrist turned toward the man, you showed him your completed mark. “Soulmates,” you said, then gestured between the two of you with your other hand. “We are soulmates.” 

The man pulled back the sleeve of his jacket over his right wrist and, even from across the balcony, you could see a mark that was identical to yours. “Soulmates,” he murmured, like he’d never heard or said the word before and was testing out how it felt on his tongue. He looked back up at you, his piercing blue eyes pinning you to the spot. “My… soulmate.” 

You nodded, smiling softly at him. “Yes, I’m your soulmate,” you confirmed.

In just a few steps forward, the man crossed the balcony and gathered you into his arms. With a little surprised gasp, you realized you never would’ve made it into your room without him catching you, he was too fast, inhumanly so. But despite the brutality you’d seen the man display in the short time you’d known him, his hands were impossibly gentle on your body. They wandered across your back and shoulders, down to your butt and thighs, like he was trying to learn the shape of you by touch alone.

Smoothly, he drew you closer, until you were pressed against his large body. You felt a bulge in his pants where it was pressed against your stomach, and your body reacted instantly, heat flooding to your core and your muscles melting against him. Your arms wrapped around the man’s shoulders and you pressed yourself tighter to him, almost clinging to him as a whine built up in your throat.

The man seemed to instinctively know you were growing needy and he peeled off your thin pajamas, baring you to the cool night air. With his hands on your hips he moved you back so he could take in your naked body, the blue of his eyes deepening to match the midnight sky as he gazed at your breasts, the curve of your waist, the slope of your shoulders and the juncture of your thighs. “Mine,” he rasped, breaking the silent moment with his husky voice. 

“Yours,” you agreed, pushing against his hold until he allowed you to step back into the circle of his arms. You nuzzled into the man’s scruffy cheek, dragging your lips along the rough stubble until they met his. Your first kiss with your soulmate was messy and clumsy, the man fumbling at first until he found a rhythm that had you moaning softly into his mouth. 

He growled in response, the sound low and dirty, sending pulses of need directly to your slit. You were starting to grow impatient, so you reached down and gripped his cock through his pants, squeezing him and drawing another low growl from deep in his chest. 

The man batted your hand away and quickly freed himself from his pants, taking his cock in his warm hand and pumping slowly. When you glanced down, you inhaled sharply. The man was big everywhere. His cock was so large you weren’t sure how it would fit inside you, but that thought only made you wetter. It was too dim on the balcony to see much, but he was thick and long and you could see a bead of precum glistening from the tip. 

Before you could decide whether to bend down and lick it up, the man grabbed you around the back of your thighs and lifted you up. With a surprised shriek, you clung to his shoulders and a moment later he settled you on the railing of the balcony. Glancing over your shoulder, you noted it was a three story drop to the courtyard below and your head whipped back around as you clung harder to the man’s leather-clad shoulders.

Then the man was sliding his thick cock between your parted thighs, coating himself in your arousal. You let loose a throaty moan, tossing your head back at the delicious feel of him. The way your body arched thrust your chest into his face, and the man wasted no time in covering one nipple with his mouth. He sucked and licked and nipped at your sensitive bud until it was hardened into a little peak, then moved to the other to give it the same treatment. By the time he was done, you were panting and whining for him.

The man stood up straight, a slight smirk on his mouth as his hands gripped your hips tightly. You stared up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, moaning when he thrust his cock through your folds, the sound turning desperate as he bullied your clit but failed to fill you up the way you needed. Reaching between your bodies, you notched his cockhead against your entrance, but he paused. It wasn’t until you looked up into his face and met his bright, burning stare that he started to push inside you. 

The man took it slow, giving you time to adjust to the way he stretched your pussy so thoroughly as he buried inch after inch in your tight little hole. You panted and gasped, clinging to the man’s neck and shoulders as he filled you up. 

His chest heaved with the effort to restrain his base instincts and shove all of himself inside you at once. But when he felt his cock hit the end of you, he let loose a stifled roar of satisfaction, growling out one word, “Mine.” 

“Yours,” you confirmed on a gasp, wrapping your thighs around his waist and rocking your hips in an effort to get him to move. And move he did. 

The man pulled out until he was almost entirely free and then shoved his cock back inside your pussy with the brutality he’d restrained on his first time plunging inside. A sharp cry fell from your lips before he covered your mouth with his own, drinking down every little scream and whimper he wrung from you with his body.

It was all you could do to hold on, your fingers twisted in his brown hair, your lips and tongue sliding against his, as he held you balanced precariously on the railing of your balcony and fucked you so hard, it felt like he was imprinting himself on your soul. You pulled him closer with your hands and your thighs, clinging to him like you planned on never letting him go. There was something inside you—your heart, your soul, you didn’t know—that called out to him, needing him, wanting to become one with this man whose name you still didn’t even know. 

You’d heard the stories about soulmates finding each other, the beauty and romance of their first times. You’d thought it was meant to be gentle and soft and sweet. Though the man had handled you gently at first, he had quickly devolved into an animalistic brutality with the way he fucked you—but you wouldn’t have traded it for anything. It felt right, it felt like he recognized something within you and was more than happy and capable of giving you what you needed.

You wanted him to fuck you forever, to never be anywhere but inside you. But it couldn’t last forever. His powerful strokes and the position he held you in meant he ground against your clit with every thrust were pushing you toward the edge of your release fast. You tried to warn him, but the man wouldn’t release your lips long enough for you to get the words out, which is how you wound up screaming into his mouth. Your body shook and trembled through your orgasm, your pussy clenching down hard on the man’s cock. 

With a surprised shout, the man followed you over the edge, your release triggering his own. He groaned low and dirty against your lips, his hips shoving his cock deep inside your pussy and letting himself go. Your cunt milked him dry, wringing every drop of cum from his thick length. 

Smiling dazedly, you moaned softly at the feel of his warm cum filling you up. Your head tilted back, your face upturned toward the midnight sky filled with stars; you watched them twinkle through slitted eyes. You were happy and satisfied, your body loose and relaxed in the man’s arms, forgetting for a moment that you were dancing on the edge of danger. But the man held you tight, ensuring you were safe. 

“Mine,” the man said, gathering you against his chest and hauling you off the railing. “My soulmate,” he murmured, staring deeply into your eyes before ducking his head for a kiss. 

While he kissed you, you were barely aware of him moving. You didn’t realize he’d carried you into your room until he was settling you down on your hotel room bed, covering your body with his. His cock was still stuffed deep in your pussy and you rocked up into him. He growled softly into your mouth.

Lazily, the man fucked you again, taking his time with your body and wringing two more orgasms from you before he spilled another load deep in your cunt. You collapsed into the bed and cuddled into your soulmate, feeling safe and happy and satisfied as you fell asleep.

At some point in the early morning hours, you woke as you felt the man retreat from your bed. You reached for him with desperate, clinging fingers, which he took and kissed the tip of each one. 

“Stay,” he murmured and you knew instantly that he was leaving.

Your heart dropped. “Don’t go,” you whispered, not too proud to put every ounce of desperation you felt in those two begging words. You’d plead with him not to leave you if you had to.

“Not safe—yet,” he said. That haunted look had returned to his blue eyes and you suddenly remembered the circumstances in which you’d first seen him. If he was capable of such violence, you could believe the world he navigated was just as dangerous, and you wanted no part in it. But that didn’t mean you were willing to give up your soulmate.

“Come back to me,” you murmured, smiling softly to let him know you weren’t angry even as tears pricked at your eyes and your heart cracked open. You clung to both his hands, tugging them toward your mouth so you could drop a kiss first on his metal palm and then against the heart-shaped mark on his right wrist.

The man gazed down at you with a soft sadness in his tortured blue eyes. He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips and uttered three words that were a fierce promise before ducking out of the room onto the balcony and disappearing into the early morning. “Always, my soulmate.”

⫸⫸30 Day Writing Trope Challenge Masterlist⫷⫷

[galway-girlatwork]

Fandom: The Last of Us-AU-No outbreak

Rating: Mature-There is angst. Fluff at the very end.

Central Characters: Joel, Sarah, Tommy, Tara (Original Female Character)

Central Relationship: Joel and Tara

Word Count: 2,534

AO3

Please do not copy my work. If you liked it, please re-blog and tag me. Please do not steal my mood board. I do not give permission to copy, translate, or post my work to any other platform.

Music inspiration: Hold On By Chord Overstreet-Hurricane by Tommee Profitt and Fleurie. Never Not Love You by 30 Seconds to Mars. Carry You by Ruelle and Fleuire

Written for @burntheedges Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge

Amnesia

SUMMARY:

The aftermath of a traumatic car accident leaves a family struggling with fear and uncertainty. The emotional toll weighing them all down as they try to find some normalcy which they all know is impossible until he wakes up. Vulnerability and desperate needs for the man who is the center of their lives to remember who they are and the life he had with them.

Fragile State

It was one the most cliché things that could happen. Something you hear about on the news, read on the internet. You feel bad to those it’s happened to, the “oh god that’s terrible” but then you move on with your day of mundane tasks that you are imprinted on your brain. They were just coming home from picking up dinner from some random drive thru when it happened. Some asshole running the red light, t-boning the SUV they were in, his side taking the most damage, the impact so brutal, they were surprised he had survived.

That was four days ago and before then? Life was normal. It was school, work, soccer practice, backyard BBQ’s and sleepovers. Now it was sleeping on hard cots, hospital food and coffee, unwashed bodies and constant beeps of machines that you swore were driving you slowly insane, each one, one push closer to the edge. Standing you walk into the bathroom, staring into the mirror, you notice bruises turning sickly shades of yellow and purple. The black eyes are second to the blood-filled sclera that surrounds your irises. You and your step-daughter were “blessed” as they put it, minor scrapes and bumps but your body disagreed when you did the simplest of tasks. Washing your hands was one of those tasks, they trembled under the gush of warm water, the room always slightly above sub-artic. Turning off the water, towel grabbed and as you dry your skin, light reflects along your engagement ring, remembering the night he proposed. He was nervous as fuck, not knowing if you’d say yes. Hands gripped the edge of the counter, bottom lip between teeth, hoping the pain would hold back tears. It didn’t and ten minutes later, face now washed, teeth brushed, you walk out of the bathroom and the constant beeps are back, knowing you should be grateful for them, since they marked the fact that he was still alive.

An hour later, doctor and nurses, come and gone tell you the same thing as the day before, there was no change. Tommy and Sarah texted to let you know they were on their way, asking if you needed anything. A quick text back letting them know you were desperate for Starbucks and that you would Zelle money to him. Proficient taps to the screen of your new phone, the other one lost in the carnage of your wrecked car, had money sent, email checked before you put it on the charger. Body slid into the chair by his bed, hand taking his, head resting on his forearm.

“Hey baby. Tommy and Sarah are coming to see you. She’s not happy by the way, that she has to go back to school Monday but I think it would be good for her. Thank god I have as much PTO as I do but Rick’s been really understanding, letting me know I can take as much time as I need so I can be here.” A shuddering sigh, a sniffle taken before you look at him. “Joel, I really need you to wake up. I can’t do this without you. I am not as independent as I pretend to be. Maybe I was before you but now...It’s different. It’s your fault you know, if I’d never met you and Sarah…Let’s face it babe, if I hadn’t met the both of you, I’d still be living in a one bedroom, eating out of take-out cartons. You two changed my life and I can’t imagine it without you in it. So fucking wake up.” Nothing came from the body in the bed, hooked to wires and tubes, head wrapped.  

She must have fallen asleep, a hand on her shoulder, repeating your name, finally brought you out of a troubled slumber. “Tara, wake up.”

“Hey sweetie.” Standing, you hugged your step-daughter who is more yours than not. She was ten when you met her, eyes peeking up at you through a head of curly hair as she partially hid behind Joel. The two you of had been dating for eight months when he decided he wanted you to meet her. It was you had suggested pizza and Disney, wanting to make her feel comfortable in her home. Of course, you were an instant hit because how many women would cater to a ten-year-old? Four months later you moved in. Now she was fifteen, a sophomore in high school dealing with daily teenage angst and peer pressure. “How are you feeling?” Side air impact bags coupled with the fact that she always sat in the middle, meant she’d walked away with just some bruised ribs from the seatbelt.

“I’m ok. Just sore. Tara, when are you coming home? Uncle Tommy can’t cook worth a damn, I think he might be worse than dad.”

A slight chuckle rumbled in your chest. “I’ll come home tonight. Doctors were here earlier, no change, said I should go home, shower and eat real food so…”

Tommy came up behind you, giving an awkward hug and you wondered if he was taking this harder than you and Sarah. Joel was his big brother and even though Tommy could be the biggest pain the ass, it was still his brother. “He’s gonna be ok. Just give him some time. You both know how stubborn he can be.” You prayed that, that stubbornness would keep him around just a little bit longer. You wanted to grow old with him, watch Sarah go off to college, get married, have babies.

Turning, coffee taken from Tommy, you sat on the couch beneath the window, Sarah curling up next to you, phone in hand, scrolling through her Facebook, the annoying beeps taking up space in your head once more. Looking at Tommy, who was pacing like a wild animal, you asked about the job that was now on hold, him letting you know the client was more than understanding, guaranteeing they wouldn’t lose the remodel job. “Tommy, why don’t you go home. There’s nothing you can do here and the rental place dropped off the loaner yesterday so I can drive us home. You look like you are bout to lose it.”

Glaring at you, a mumbled yea was tossed over his shoulder as he left. You knew he blamed you. Not so much for the accident but for the fact that you all were in your car and not Joel’s truck. He’d been such a hurry to get home for soccer, he’d forgotten to put gas in the bemouth truck of his, so of course they took your car, the girlie car as he put it, with all the frilly things on the inside, courtesy of Sarah. Trinkets she bought you for Christmases and birthdays, things she knew you would never buy for yourself. Flowered hair ties around the gearshift, the car freshener from Bath and Body, the little flower key holder that went with the steering wheel cover. Things now lost, kinda like her husband. Feeling Sarah tense up next to her, you hold her tight, shaking your head. “He’s just scared honey. Like us and he doesn’t know how to handle it. No worries, okay?” A nod of her head let you know she understand, may not have liked it but got it.

Hours passed in silence, only broken the few times nurses came in, the look in their eyes spoke volumes if you paid attention and that was something you did. Always paying attention to every detail, it’s why you were good at your job, even though everyone wondered why you were an accountant, it was because of details and numbers. Things you knew were reliable, constant, predictable. This was none of that. A rumble of Sarah’s stomach was the clue that it was time to go, for now. “Come on baby, let’s get some burgers and get home. We’ll come back in the morning.” Nurses reassured you that if anything changed, they would call you but something deep in the recesses of your mind, you knew that call wouldn’t come tonight.

The drive home was nerve wracking, Sarah letting you know to order Doordash when she noticed how clenched hands and jaw were as you left the parking lot. “I think that’s a way better idea.” What you didn’t realize was how different home felt without him here as you stood in the kitchen, mail stacked on the counter, sink full of coffee cups and cereal bowls from the morning of, Sarah staying with Tommy.

“I’ll take care of it.” Was her response when she saw tears silently falling.

“Leave em. We can do it in the morning. Can you order while I shower? Order from where ever you want.” Gathering her close, you hugged her, a little tighter than normal but then what was normal at this point? Nothing. Not a fucking thing. It was okay though because she clung to you just as hard.

It was when you were in the shower, body on the floor, pulled inwards, hot water blasting your back that all the tears finally let lose. Gut wrenching sobs that would have frightened anyone who heard them, sounding as if your soul was being ripped out of your body. Your relationship with each other wasn’t something that either one of you had planned. It was pure coincidence that you had met each other. When the tears dried up, dehydration at it’s best, you scrubbed your body until you couldn’t take the pain anymore, it’s way of letting you know that you were still alive. Hey at least you felt somewhat human now, right?

Both of you were quiet during dinner, food was picked at until you decided you were done. It was after eleven when you both decided to call it a night, the hours from then til now, were filled with a movie that neither one of you could remember turning on. When two am hit and you were still wide awake, blanket and pillow were dragged downstairs, deciding the couch would be better, at least until he came home.

It was on the sixth day that he finally woke up, fighting the tube, panic filled eyes searching the room, one hand gripping his as the other pressed the call button. Suddenly the room was filled with too many people, and you were helpless as you were gently pushed out into the hall, door closed behind you. Sliding down the wall, the velvet ponytail holder violently ripped from your head, fingertips kneading your scalp as you waited and these days, your patience was running below empty.

Minutes felt like hours before the doctor came out, letting you know that yes, he was awake but there was a problem. Standing in front of him, bits and pieces of what he was saying sank into the gray matter of your mind. He didn’t remember the car accident. Thank god for small miracles right? But he also couldn’t remember his name, that he was married, that he had a daughter, repeatedly asking questions before the panic attack started, the need to sedate him and he was sleeping. “Come back later today but don’t bring your daughter, it can be upsetting to both of them.” The drive back home was a blur, the paperwork they’d given you on short term memory loss was still sitting in your purse, once again it was explained that it was from the TBI and it would only last a week, maybe two but there was a rare possibility it could last for months.

What the actual fuck? A million questions came up but the most important one was what would this do to Sarah? Now standing in the middle of the room you both shared, rage bubbled up and overflowed like the volcano you helped Sarah make for her sixth-grade science project. It erupted from your small frame, as one arm swiped everything from the top of the dresser, the fan picked up and slammed against the mirror, reflective glass exploding. Perfume bottles followed suit, leaving the space to smell like a cheap whore or an old woman, take your pick. Collapsing in the space, you lay there wondering who your wronged and why Karma and Fate did this now. Exhaustion must have laid claim after rage took a vacation because that is where Tommy found you two hours later.

He sat you on the bed as he took in the damage. “Sarah’s going to be home by four. She can’t see the room this way, please Tommy?” Nodding, he told you he’d clean up and have a new fan and mirror before then. Asking what caused the chaos, you told him what the doctors had said or what you could remember. “Is it permanent?”

“I don’t know.”

“Go back to the hospital. I’ll be here and we can talk to Sarah tonight.”

“Thank you Tommy. I’m sorry.” You were admitting to your part in this. You had to have some part, right? Maybe reminded him before coming home to get gas. Maybe not fighting him on driving your car so it would be you instead of him. It was a hell of lot maybe’s.

“Who are you?” His voice startled you from the far away place you’d gone while you sat in the chair next to his bed that now had the imprint of your ass on it.

“Hi Joel, I’m Tara.”

“Thirsty.”

“Hold on.” Flimsy Pepto colored cup was filled from the pitcher baring the same hue, plastic straw pressed against dry lips, he drank half before pushing the straw out of his mouth with the tip of his tongue.

“Tara? Tara? I should know you, right?”

“Yes, you should but there was an accident and things are fuzzy for you right now.”

“How do I know you?”

“We’re married. Have been. Three years in October.”

You’d wanted a Halloween wedding but he’d refused to actually get married on the holiday, said it was bad luck, so the 30th was a compromise along with the promise that you wouldn’t wear red or black, his desire to see you in white.

“I wish I could remember.”

“You will, just be patient, something you are not always good at.”

“Tell me more.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“Okay.”

Hours passed as you told him about Sarah, Tommy, the life you’d built together, his job, your job, soccer practice, Sarah’s first school dance, your wedding…conversations peppered with questions, showing him photos that have taken up almost all of the memory of the new phone that now pinged with a text from Sarah, wanting to know how he was and when you’d be home. Texting back, you let her know he was awake, still not remembering, that you’d be home soon and to order pizza, there was fifty dollars in the coffee can above the fridge, tucked behind the fake plant.

“Sorry, Sarah was asking about you and wanted to know when I’d be home.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Joel, why are you sorry?”

“That I can’t remember anything.”

“You can’t remember everything right now. Give it time baby. Be patient.”

“I must have loved you a lot.”

“You did.”

“Think I will again?”

“Yes.”

"Good."

[silmsmutweek]

Challenges

Starting Sept 6, we'll be posting a creative challenge every Friday and Saturday to help get your creative juices flowing.

During Silm Smut Week (Sept 30 to Oct 6), we'll continue to encourage engagement with some simpler daily challenges!

We'll update this post with a list of challenges as they are released.

Challenges to Date

Indulge. Set the word ‘cringe’ on fire. Throw that voice of judgement from the Caragdûr. Create a fanwork for pure pleasure.

Collaborate. Co-create a fanwork with someone else.

Give. Fill a smutty prompt (@silmkinkmeme has lots!) or invite others to send you smutty prompts.

Exchange. Create art for someone else’s smut fic or write a smut fic based on someone else’s art. Be sure to credit their inspiration!

Inspire. Create a playlist of sexy tunes for a favourite character or ship.

Share. Create a list of smutty recs. If you like, you can theme your list around a specific Silm Smut Week day or prompt.

Encourage. Nominate tags for @silmsmutexchange, a new mature & explicit fic exchange running Oct-Dec.

Engage. Leave a comment or send an ask to a creator letting them know what you like about their work. Consider asking a question, too

Appreciate. Find a smut fic with fewer than 20 kudos and/or 2 comment threads, read it, and leave a comment.

Discover. Read a smut fic posted on a smaller archive or community. We’ve already started a search for you on the Silmarillion Writers’ Guild!

Venture. Read a kink or trope you’ve never read before (and don’t forget to comment if you liked it!). 

[valentinxd]

SHAPE YOU.

You’re a disgruntled line cook who Donaka sees as a challenge.

Pairing: Donaka Mark x Female Reader

About Reader: 30-year-old woman, disheveled, sweaty, uncomfortable within one’s skin, borderline exhausted, lack of self-care, quite possibly has identity issues

Note: This isn’t meant for the reader to be “not like other girls” nor do I want to play on that trope, I just love the idea of a well-groomed man wanting to take on a mess of a person. This is also going on with the kinks I previously posted about him wanting to change the reader for his liking. (not the best writing on my end)

Warnings: Mostly in the About Reader part, the reader is insecure and oftentimes in her own head, Donaka wants to change her into what he thinks you should be, sexism on his part? maybe?

You got a job at one of his bars. Most of the women there had great people skills, good at serving, bartending, anything being in public. You didn’t. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to you just didn’t know how. You were always a bit in your head to notice the world around you, you tried retail and hated it. You found the busy hidden world of the kitchen a lot more to your liking.

You got to hide in the back, working away on whatever high priced bullshit nonsense was on the menu, shove your arms in hot water scrubbing dishes, and polishing crystal bar glasses for the bartenders.

You would watch your coworkers, knowing how to dress, how to act, how to smile, what was fashionable and what wasn’t with a sense of awe and love. A part of you wanted to be like them, you just didn’t know how or feel like you had the time to put in the extra effort.

You were always exhausted, always a little too much in your own world to notice. But that didn’t mean someone you weren’t noticed. You just assumed you were just another disheveled food service worker for Donaka Mark, assuming the one percent like him every paid attention to you.

He did.

One of his favorite girls at the bar was in the corner eating some food with a couple other of girls, they had snuck back to the kitchen while you were cleaning up and entered in a “mistake order.” You were aware that being a server and bartender meant little to no breaks especially during peak hours so you made sure to give them something to eat lest they pass out.

All three girls stopped when the tall man looked at them, his dark obsidian eyes narrowing slightly. Out of fear they pointed at the back door. He went to confront to whatever out of line cook that was stealing from him. He found you out back smoking a cigarette, your apron dirty, a few bandaids on your left hand and your hair a greasy mess tied back into an attempted bun.

There was just something about you that interested him, he normally would never pay attention to girls like you as you clearly didn’t put the effort into your appearance but the way you tilted your head and raised your eyebrows with the cigarette lazily in your mouth there he only walked away.

You got told that wasn’t a thing and you should count your days.

At the end of your shift, you walked over to the bar, and one of the workers there gave you a beer. You let your hair down and he came to the conclusion that if he could take innocent people and make them killers he could change every part of you.

So of course you found it odd when he would offer you a better-paying position to be a server. You couldn’t tell your boss no, unless you wanted to sleep in the dirt permanently.

He slowly and gradually got you to change bit by bit, redoing your hair to a better color, changing the style, and wearing more makeup. This didn’t change your normal demeanor however, you would sit awkwardly in a barely-there skirt, pick at the fake nails, and stare off into space. You always felt a bit awkward and uncomfortable in your own skin but that drove his resolve further.

Donaka Mark always got what he wanted, he always did.

At some point, you were going to become the woman he wanted you to be, soul, mind, and body.

Then you would be completely his.

[sugarsfics]

Painting Together

Summary: Your next-door neighbor comes over; he needs some help painting. There are some pros and cons. Pros you are great at painting. Con you have the biggest crush on him. 

Trope: Eddie x reader; Friends to lovers 

Warning: use of y/n, kissing, fluff, bad writing  

Word count: 1.0k 

30 Day challenge: Day 5 Send request <3 

It was a beautiful gloomy day, there was a nice sprinkle outside. You are currently cuddled up in bed reading a book when there was a knock at your door. You place your book down then ventured out into the living room, you open and were met with big brown eyes those you belonged to your neighbor Eddie Munson. “Hey” he spoke first “Hi” “Um so I was bored and thought maybe I should come bother you because you are probably also bored” you laughed “Yea ok come on in” he closed the door after himself “What’s in the bag” you asked him pointing and his black backpack “Oh my d&d stuff I need to paint some figurines for the next campaign plus finish the campaign “Are you using me too paint your little toys” “What no” he said sarcastically “You are wow and to think that you just wanted to hang out with little o’me but no you must use me” you said dramatically “No I-I really do want to hang out I just I-“ “Relax Munson I love painting and helping you out”  “I just don’t want you to think I’m using you” “Your my friend” his heart dropped yea just friends but he wanted too be more “Plus you could never use me how much the cheerleaders used me back in high school"

That is where you and Eddie met. You were the artist he was the freak You were on the student council your job was making posters for clubs and any events that were going on. You were used people being nice to you to do their homecoming proposals or to make their club sign extra. But Eddie wasn’t like that, he started developing a crush on you the moment he walked into first period. You were wearing a pair of light pink converse with drawings all over, some paint cover overalls and a black tee under along with some paint sprinkled on your arms and cheeks. When your eyes meet with his for the first time he swore it stopped for 5 seconds and that he died and went to heaven. The love at first sight moment was ruined went Mason Carver bumped into him “move freak” After class we walked out a was met with a poster JOIN OR MAKE A CLUB, with the same colors that you were covered in. That is how Hellfire was born. It took many people to convince to start the club but, in the end, he got his club, they directed him to you to make your club poster for club rush the next week. He bonded with you over the week of making the logo and posters he even helped with the other clubs, he didn’t dare to touch anything to do with sports. After that week, your friendship blossomed. But you both wanted more but never said anything.

You brought him into your room, he sat on your floor as you went into your closet to grab your art supplies. “Ok who am I painting today” “Well.... This is a Merrow they are mermaids or merman. They carry spears and here is the handbook for his colors” as you painted Eddie would tell you about the roles each person or creature was playing in his campaign. Eddie looked too cute when he was focused, his tongue was poking out, intrusive thoughts took over and you grabbed your paint brush and poked his nose. He looked at you stunned you thought he was mad until he grabbed a brush and poked your cheek, a poking war start any open flesh had color dots on them. You fell back has Eddie tried to poke your forehead, then felt a sharp pain in your lower back “Ow” “Are you ok” he was panicking thinking he hurt you, but in realty you fell on one of his figures “All good just landed on this little guy” you said holding it up "Oh wow this one looks just like you” the one had long hair dressed as a knight. “Um yea that my character he needs to be clean up bit but yea” “Aw he’s cute” you're cute you both think. He went into his bag and another figure fell out “Oh who is this” it was a girl she has your colored hair about the same length as you, a white dress flowy dress was this me you thought “Oh um that is um Eddie the banished fair maiden” he says sheepishly “What are her traits or strengths” “Um she helps patches up Eddie the banished after battle, she as a power where her food that she packs for him heals him and his wounds, and” he didn’t look you in the eye for the last part “she is really good a painting and drawing” you didn’t want to ask him just in case it wasn’t true but you really wanted to know “Eddie” “Yes” “Is she based off someone” your heart was pounding “Would it be weird if it was” he asked here goes nothing “What's her name” “um l-l-lady y/n” he said lowly “You made a character after me” couldn’t form any word he just nodded. 

He hasn’t looked at you since his confession “Eddie look at me please” he slowly looked at you “I think it is really sweet” you grabbed his hand “You don’t think it is weird that I made you my character fair maiden” “No I would be your fair maiden in any universe if you wanted me too” his eyes widen please don’t be dreaming he thought “I-I” he was speechless you smiled at him that made him melt. You did something that you only dreamed of you grabbed Eddie’s face and kissed him, he quickly kissed back and pulled you closer to him. He didn’t want it to end, but unfortunately people need air to live, and he was lacking that then. He pulled away with a lovesick smile, you pressed kisses all over his face till it was a deep red “Does this mean we are dating” you asked, “If you keep kissing me like that, I will be your anything” “So boyfriend?” “Yea girlfriend?” “Yes” 

Tag list: @thefreak0fhawkinshigh

[pedroshotwifey]

Wifey's Christmas Countdown 2023 - A Collection

Happy holidays, friendos! These will be posted once a day at 9:30 am est every day dec. 1 - 24th and will contain a mixture of smut, fluff, angst, and mentions of Christmas. I hope you enjoy! 💚❤️💚

I also want to put it out there that I am using this challenge to experiment with some of the tropes/kinks that I haven't worked with just yet. Not all of the fics will be for experimental purposes, but a select few will contain "unpopular" kinks/tropes/whatever (dead dove, mommy kink, ect.), so please just keep in mind that people have the right to like what they like and there is no shame in that. If you don't like it, don't read it. That said, I would love some positive feedback so I know what to write more of! Thank you lovelies!! <3

Key:

🍷- Smut

✨ - Fluff

🖤 - Angst

🎄 - Christmas or mentions of Christmas

Day 1 - mistletoe - Javi P. (1k) ✨🎄mentions🍷

Day 2 - Din Djarin - Shower sex (960) 🍷 ✨

Day 3 - Christmas shopping - Jack Daniels/Whiskey (1.5k)🍷✨🎄

Day 4 - Joel Miller - Love confession (1.7k) ✨🎄

Day 5 - fake relationship - Marcus Pike (1.5k) 🍷✨🎄

Day 6 - Javier Peña - Forced orgasm (908) 🍷🖤

Day 7 - christmas lights - Jack Daniels/Whiskey (1.6k) 🖤✨🎄

Day 8 - Maxwell Lord - Mommy kink (2.1k) 🍷✨

Day 9 - holiday baking - Dieter Bravo (1.4k) 🍷✨🎄

Day 10 - Marcus Moreno - Sex pollen (1.1k) 🍷

Day 11 - too much eggnog - Frankie Morales (975) ✨ some🎄&🖤

Day 12 - Javi Gutierrez - High sex (1.4k) ✨🍷

Day 13 - snuggles - Joel miller (549) ✨

Day 14 - Oberyn Martell - Lingerie (1.4k) ✨🍷

Day 15 - presents - Frankie Morales (1.5k) ✨🎄🍷

Day 16 - Dieter Bravo - In public (1.1k)🍷

Day 17 - mulled wine - Joel Miller (1.7k) ✨🍷🎄

Day 18 - Frankie Morales - Restraints (1k) 🍷🎄

Day 19 - naughty or nice - Joel Miller (1.3k)🎄🍷✨

Day 20 - Dave York - Noncon (2.2k) 🍷🖤 DDDNE

Day 21 - christmas movie - Marcus Pike (863) ✨🎄

Day 22 - Ezra Prospect - Tentacles (1.2k) 🍷

Day 23 - foodcoma - Jack Daniels (673) 🍷✨

Day 24 - DBF - Joel Miller (884) ✨🎄🍷

[marreddream]

Tokyo Afterschool Summoners - HOUSAMOTOBER 2024

a daily creative challenge for October, with Housamo prompts! 31 days of prompts, 7 days, 1 day, or anything in between; any and all participation is welcomed and encouraged!

feel free to use/pull from last year's HOUSAMOTOBER prompts if you'd like, or even from another list entirely

drawing, writing, photo editing, GIF making, commentating; anything goes! use the tag #housamotober (spelled HOUSAMO + TOBER) looking forward to everybody's works!

Explanation of prompts under the cut.

31 DAYS VER. 1-11. Housamo Attributes Something with a character, vanilla or variant, with the corresponding attribute. Why not take a look at your Support Member List for inspiration? Of course, a piece inspired by the concept of the word itself is cool, too.

12-20. Housamo Weapon Types Something with a character, vanilla or variant, with the corresponding weapon type. Of course, a piece inspired by the concept of the word itself is cool, too.

21-24. Seasons Winter Wonderland, Spring Cherry Blossoms, Summer Swimsuits, Autumn Woods; something with a character and corresponding season.

25. Dream Event What type of Event would you most want to happen? And with what characters? The type of event you'd shell out all of your gems and tickets to pull on the gacha for. If nothing comes to mind, something inspired by the Ueno Fluffy Dream Kingdom event, Melty Dream with [X], or anything with the word "dream" in it is cool, too.

26. Role Swap What if Shiro Motoori had Kengo Takabushi's Belt of Power? What if Kengo Takabushi had Shiro Motoori's Necronomicon? You can interpret this prompt as an backstory swap, outfit swap, anyway you'd like.

27. Fairytale Stories of princess, witches, knights! Folklore of fae and more! Something with a character and a concept from a fairytale.

28. Monster Zombies, vampires, werewolves, ghosts! Too many to count, so many to choose from. Something with a character and a monster motif.

29. Candy Chocolate, taffy, lollipops, and hard candy! Too many to count, so many to choose from. Something with a character and a candy motif.

30. Mob Unit Show the mobs some love! Something with a 1-2 star character.

31. Halloween Free Space Happy Halloween! Anything goes here!

7 DAYS VER. 1-5. Beast Werewolves, werecats, werewhatevers! Something beast related. Could honestly just be any Therian character.

6-10. Undead Zombies, ghosts, vampires, skeletons; something related to being brought back from the dead. Or something with any character that has "died" in the story alive again, lol.

11-15. Slasher Michael Myers™, Ghostface™, Chucky™, M3GAN™; something related to the iconic slasher trope. You could even turn a character into their own original slasher!

16-20. Sports Baseball, Basketball, Cheerleading, Hockey; something related to the concept of sports! I thought sport Halloween costumes were more popular than they actually were, but upon further research, does not appear to be the case. But I've already made the list, so sports it is.

21-25. Outfit Swap A character wearing another character's outfit. Outfit Swap and Role Swap are basically interchangeable, so feel free to get creative!

36-30. Candy Chocolate, taffy, lollipops, and hard candy! Too many to count, so many to choose from. Something with a character and a candy motif.

31. Halloween Free Space Happy Halloween! Anything goes here!