#its not plagiarism if its my own fic

[f-imaginings]

hai!!!!

i know you've already confirmed doing minor what ifs, but have you ever planned or thought of doing a longer one for a happy ending?

(im sorry for asking but these two make me mentally ill in the best way posible. )

The what ifs will be pretty well sized so hopefully they'll scratch the itch for y'all. My goal with the ending is also to make it kind of optimistic to empower other folks who want to write fanfic to give it a shot and make their own content too. I just love the idea of being able to make a positive impact with this story and to embolden others to let their own creativity run free. Plus I'd be cheering if there was a list of "works inspired by" that could sit at the end of the story when it's finished. That way the story (that a lot of people seem to really dig) can live on in everyone's interpretations of it!

[buckybarnesj]

why do some people still feel comfortable reposting gifs??

[ekingston]

SO HERE IS THE WHOLE STORY (SO FAR).

I am on my knees begging you to reblog this post and to stop reblogging the original ones I sent out yesterday. This is the complete account with all the most recent info; the other one is just sending people down senselessly panicked avenues that no longer lead anywhere.

IN SHORT

Cliff Weitzman, CEO of Speechify and (aspiring?) voice actor, used AI to scrape thousands of popular, finished works off AO3 to list them on his own for-profit website and in his attached app. He did this without getting any kind of permission from the authors of said work or informing AO3. Obviously.

When fandom at large was made aware of his theft and started pushing back, Weitzman issued a non-apology on the original social media posts—using 

his dyslexia; 

his intent to implement a tip-system for the plagiarized authors; and 

a sudden willingness to take down the work of every author who saw my original social media posts and emailed him individually with a ‘valid’ claim,

as reasons we should allow him to continue monetizing fanwork for his own financial gain.

When we less-than-kindly refused, he took down his ‘apologies’ as well as his website (allegedly—it’s possible that our complaints to his web host, the deluge of emails he received or the unanticipated traffic brought it down, since there wasn’t any sort of official statement made about it), and when it came back up several hours later, all of the work formerly listed in the fan fiction category was no longer there. 

THE TAKEAWAYS

1. Cliff Weitzman (aka Ofek Weitzman) is a scumbag with no qualms about taking fanwork without permission, feeding it to AI and monetizing it for his own financial gain; 

2. Fandom can really get things done when it wants to, and 

3. Our fanworks appear to be hidden, but they’re NOT DELETED from Weitzman’s servers, and independently published, original works are still listed without the authors' permission. We need to hold this man responsible for his theft, keep an eye on both his current and future endeavors, and take action immediately when he crosses the line again. 

THE TIMELINE, THE DETAILS, THE SCREENSHOTS (behind the cut)

Sunday night, December 22nd 2024, I noticed an influx in visitors to my fic You & Me & Holiday Wine. When I searched the title online, hoping to find out where they came from, a new listing popped up (third one down, no less):

This listing is still up today, by the way, though now when you follow the link to word-stream, it just brings you to the main site. (Also, to be clear, this was not the cause for the influx of traffic to my fic; word-stream did not link back to the original work anywhere.)

I followed the link to word-stream, where to my horror Y&M&HW was listed in its entirety—though, beyond the first half of the first chapter, behind a paywall—along with a link promising to take me—through an app downloadable on the Apple Store—to an AI-narrated audiobook version. When I searched word-stream itself for my ao3 handle I found both of my multi-chapter fics were listed this way:

Because the tags on my fics (which included genres* and characters, but never the original IPs**) weren’t working, I put ‘Kara Danvers’ into the search bar and discovered that many more supercorp fics (Supergirl TV fandom, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor pairing) were listed.

I went looking online for any mention of word-stream and AI plagiarism (the covers—as well as the ridiculously inflated number of reviews and ratings—made it immediately obvious that AI fuckery was involved), but found almost nothing: only one single Reddit post had been made, and it received (at that time) only a handful of upvotes and no advice. 

I decided to make a tumblr post to bring the supercorp fandom up to speed about the theft. I draw as well as write for fandom and I’ve only ever had to deal with art theft—which has a clear set of steps to take depending on where said art was reposted—and I was at a loss regarding where to start in this situation.

After my post went up I remembered Project Copy Knight, which is worth commending for the work they’ve done to get fic stolen from AO3 taken down from monetized AI 'audiobook’ YouTube accounts. I reached out to @echoekhi, asking if they’d heard of this site and whether they could advise me on how to get our works taken down.

While waiting for a reply I looked into Copy Knight’s methods and decided to contact OTW’s legal department:

And then I went to bed.

By morning, tumblr friends @makicarn and @fazedlight as well as a very helpful tumblr anon had seen my post and done some very productive sleuthing:

@echoekhi had also gotten back to me, advising me, as expected, to contact the OTW. So I decided to sit tight until I got a response from them.

That response came only an hour or so later: 

Which was 100% understandable, but still disappointing—I doubted a handful of individual takedown requests would accomplish much, and I wasn’t eager to share my given name and personal information with Cliff Weitzman himself, which is unavoidable if you want to file a DMCA.

I decided to take it to Reddit, hoping it would gain traction in the wider fanfic community, considering so many fandoms were affected. My Reddit posts (with the updates at the bottom as they were emerging) can be found here and here.

A helpful Reddit user posted a guide on how users could go about filing a DMCA against word-stream here (to wobbly-at-best results)

A different helpful Reddit user signed up to access insight into word-streams pricing. Comment is here.

Smells unbelievably scammy, right? In addition to those audacious prices—though in all fairness any amount of money would be audacious considering every work listed is accessible elsewhere for free—my dyscalculia is screaming silently at the sight of that completely unnecessary amount of intentionally obscured numbers.

Speaking of which! As soon as the post on r/AO3—and, as a result, my original tumblr post—began taking off properly, sometime around 1 pm, jumpscare! A notification that a tumblr account named @cliffweitzman had commented on my post, and I got a bit mad about the gist of his message :

Fortunately he caught plenty of flack in the comments from other users (truly you should check out the comment section, it is extremely gratifying and people are making tremendously good points), in response to which, of course, he first tried to both reiterate and renegotiate his point in a second, longer comment (which I didn’t screenshot in time so I’m sorry for the crappy notification email formatting):

which he then proceeded to also post to Reddit (this is another Reddit user’s screenshot, I didn’t see it at all, the notifications were moving too fast for me to follow by then)

... where he got a roughly equal amount of righteously furious replies. (Check downthread, they're still there, all the way at the bottom.)

After which Cliff went ahead & deleted his messages altogether. 

It’s not entirely clear whether his account was suspended by Reddit soon after or whether he deleted it himself, but considering his tumblr account is still intact, I assume it’s the former. He made a handful of sock puppet accounts to play around with for a while, both on Reddit and Tumblr, only one of which I have a screenshot of, but since they all say roughly the same thing, you’re not missing much:

And then word-stream started throwing a DNS error.

That lasted for a good number of hours, which was unfortunately right around the time that a lot of authors first heard about the situation and started asking me individually how to find out whether their work was stolen too. I do not have that information and I am unclear on the perimeters Weitzman set for his AI scraper, so this is all conjecture: it LOOKS like the fics that were lifted had three things in common:

They were completed works;

They had over several thousand kudos on AO3; and

They were written by authors who had actively posted or updated work over the past year.

If anyone knows more about these perimeters or has info that counters my observation, please let me know!

I finally thought to check/alert evil Twitter during this time, and found out that the news was doing the rounds there already. I made a quick thread summarizing everything that had happened just in case. You can find it here.

I went to Bluesky too, where fandom was doing all the heavy lifting for me already, so I just reskeeted, as you do, and carried on.

Sometime in the very early evening, word-stream went back up—but the fan fiction category was nowhere to be seen. Tentative joy and celebration!***

That’s when several users—the ones who had signed up for accounts to gain intel and had accessed their own fics that way—reported that their work could still be accessed through their history. Relevant Reddit post here.

Sooo—

We’re obviously not done. The fanwork that was stolen by Weitzman may be inaccessible through his website right now, but they aren’t actually gone. And the fact that Weitzman wasn’t willing to get rid of them altogether means he still has plans for them. 

This was my final edit on my Reddit post before turning off notifications, and it's pretty much where my head will be at for at least the foreseeable future:

Please feel free to add info in the comments, make your own posts, take whatever action you want to take to protect your work. I only beg you—seriously, I’m on my knees here—to not give up like I saw a handful of people express the urge to do. Keep sharing your creative work and remain vigilant and stay active to make sure we can continue to do so freely. Visit your favorite fics, and the ones you’ve kept in your ‘marked for later’ lists but never made time to read, and leave kudos, leave comments, support your fandom creatives, celebrate podficcers and support AO3. We created this place and it’s our responsibility to keep it alive and thriving for as long as we possibly can.

Also FUCK generative AI. It has NO place in fandom spaces.

THE 'SMALL' PRINT (some of it in all caps):

*Weitzman knew what he was doing and can NOT claim ignorance. One, it’s pretty basic kindergarten stuff that you don’t steal some other kid’s art project and present it as your own only to act surprised when they protest and then tell the victim that they should have told you sooner that they didn’t want their project stolen. And two, he was very careful never to list the IPs these fanworks were based on, so it’s clear he was at least familiar enough with the legalities to not get himself in hot water with corporate lawyers. Fucking over fans, though, he figured he could get away with that. 

**A note about the AI that Weitzman used to steal our work: it’s even greasier than it looks at first glance. It’s not just the method he used to lift works off AO3 and then regurgitate onto his own website and app. Looking beyond the untold horrors of his AI-generated cover ‘art’, in many cases these covers attempt to depict something from the fics in question that can’t be gleaned from their summaries alone. In addition, my fics (and I assume the others, as well) were listed with generated genres; tags that did not appear anywhere in or on my fic on AO3 and were sometimes scarily accurate and sometimes way off the mark. I remember You & Me & Holiday Wine had ‘found family’ (100% correct, but not tagged by me as such) and I believe The Shape of Soup was listed as, among others, ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ and ‘love triangle’ (both wildly inaccurate). Even worse, not all the fic listed (as authors on Reddit pointed out) came with their original summaries at all. Often the entire summary was AI-generated. All of these things make it very clear that it was an all-encompassing scrape—not only were our fics stolen, they were also fed word-for-word into the AI Weitzman used and then analyzed to suit Weitzman’s needs. This means our work was literally fed to this AI to basically do with whatever its other users want, including (one assumes) text generation. 

***Fan fiction appears to have been made (largely) inaccessible on word-stream at this time, but I’m hearing from several authors that their original, independently published work, which is listed at places like Kindle Unlimited, DOES still appear in word-stream’s search engine. This obviously hurts writers, especially independent ones, who depend on these works for income and, as a rule, don’t have a huge budget or a legal team with oceans of time to fight these battles for them. If you consider yourself an author in the broader sense, beyond merely existing online as a fandom author, beyond concerns that your own work is immediately at risk, DO NOT STOP MAKING NOISE ABOUT THIS.

PLEASE check my later versions of this post via my main page to make sure you have the latest version of this post before you reblog. All the information I’ve been able to gather is in my reblogs below, and it's frustrating to see the old version getting passed around, sending people on wild goose chases.

Thank you all so much!

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　DRESS TO IMPRESS IN REAL LIFE

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N, Matt's secret girlfriend, participates in the 'Dress to Impress in real life' video.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by an anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I added and changed some dialogs that didn't happen on the video, so the fic ended being more complete.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The triplets were buzzing with energy, their house a hive of activity as they set up for their newest video; Dress to Impress, real-life edition. Each round had its own theme, and the first one was Summer Vacation. Y/N had been roped into joining as a surprise guest, and secretly, Matt couldn't have been more thrilled.

The boys had already pulled out all the stops with their outfits. Chris sported a chaotic ensemble: a bucket hat with panels of clashing colors, lime green slides, and denim cargo shorts.

Matt was rocking a relaxed, dad-on-vacation vibe, complete with an oversized straw hat, patterned swim trunks, and a shirt that screamed, 'I don’t care, I’m on island time'.

Nick had gone full beach prep with a striped tank top, sunglasses that were almost too tiny for his face, and a retro cooler box tucked under his arm like an accessory.

As the camera rolled, Y/N was still getting ready in Matt’s bathroom, leaving the boy's to discuss who went better between the three of them.

"Alright." Chris said, pointing a finger at Nick’s cooler. "I’m just saying, if you don’t actually have anything in there, that’s a waste of a prop."

"It’s called committing to the bit, Chris." Nick shot back, adjusting the towel draped over his shoulder. "The cooler is the vibe."

Matt, who was adjusting his sunglasses, glanced toward the bathroom door, his face lighting up as if he could sense Y/N’s presence through the walls.

"Y/N better bring it. I know she’s got something amazing up her sleeve."

Nick rolled his eyes, looking at Matt with a boring expression.

"Why do I feel like you’re already planning to give her every win, no matter what she’s wearing?"

"Because I am." Matt replied bluntly, grinning like the lovesick puppy he was.

The door finally creaked open, and all three boys turned as Y/N emerged. She had nailed the summer vacation aesthetic, wearing a flowy, tropical-patterned sundress, bikini top below it, oversized black Prada sunglasses perched on her nose, and sandals that matched her outfit perfectly. She’d even added a straw beach bag for good measure.

"Okay, Y/N, I see you!" Chris exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

Y/N laughed, grinning widely before twirling to show off her look.

"Alright, that’s tough competition. You actually look like you're ready to spend the day at your beach house." Nick gave a low whistle, his blue eyes traveling from her face to her feet and back again. "But I'd say you're in fourth place. You're ready for the beach, not for any summer vacation."

"Fair." Y/N shrugged, take a quick peak at her outfit again before looking at Matt. "What do you think?"

Matt's eyes seemed to be shining like the whole cadence of stars, wandering through every detail of her choice of clothes.

"Are you kidding? That’s... that’s so good. You look like you stepped out of a summer vacation catalog or something." His voice sounded slightly high-pitched with excitement. "Nick's just jealous."

"What? No, I'm not!"

Chris rolled his eyes, already sensing where this was going.

"Oh, here we go."

"Like, if I saw you on the beach." Matt continued, ignoring his brothers entirely. "I’d probably just pass out. That’s how good you look."

"Okay, Matt." Nick said, holding up a hand. "We get it. Obsessive fucker."

The room filled with laughter, Y/N shaking her head but unable to hide the grin spreading across her face, her cheeks heating up.

"Right, first round? I'm second." Matt declared, gesturing toward himself. "Obviously, Y/N was first because, you know, she's Y/N." He gave her a little smile. "Then Nick was third, and Chris was fourth. That’s the average."

"Yeah, unfortunately." Nick muttered, throwing his hands up.

"Well." Chris turned dramatically to the camera and pointed. "They can vote."

Nick, not missing a beat, leaned closer to the camera, his voice dripping with mock confidence.

"Oh, I already know they’re gonna vote for me. Mine’s obviously the best. Unless..." He paused for dramatic effect, raising an eyebrow. "These girls wanna sleep with Matt and vote for him."

"What?!" Matt’s eyes widened in pure shock as he whipped his head toward the camera, looking utterly scandalized.

Y/N’s eyes flicked between Nick and Matt, her lips tightening slightly trying to suppress a laugh. It was impossible not to be amused by Nick’s antics.

She knew Nick wasn’t wrong, Matt’s popularity with their audience also had to do with his charm and, let’s face it, how good he looked on camera. There probably were plenty of girls who’d vote for Matt purely because of his looks, even if one of the other boys dressed better.

Nick continued without missing a beat.

"It’s the straight man advantage! You guys..." He gestured wildly at the camera. "Are gonna discriminate against me because I’m gay, and I don't like 'yall back."

At that, Y/N couldn’t help but burst into laughter, shaking her head.

Matt, still recovering from Nick’s bold accusation, raised a hand defensively.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second." He looked straight into the camera with that intense, sincere gaze that Y/N loved. "Just for the record, I’m completely off-limits. Completely."

The way he said it, firm and definitive, sent a wave of confidence through Y/N. Her lips twitched into a small smile as she crossed her arms, clearing her throat to contain her reactions, trying to play it cool.

Nick, however, wasn’t done.

"Oh, yeah? You really think they care about that?" He teased, smirking as Matt shook his head in disbelief.

Chris rolled his eyes, still laughing.

"Nick, stop trying to guilt-trip them into voting for you."

"I'm not doing anything." Nick replied with a wink, sending the group into another fit of laughter.

"Now, bring the runway on, boys!"

The camera cut to Chris, who had appointed himself the first to strut down their makeshift runway that started from the stairs.

He walked in quick steps before stopping in the center of their camera lens, dramatically fanning himself with an imaginary hand fan.

"Where did you even get the idea of the imaginary fan?" Y/N teased, laughing with the others.

"Shh, it’s part of the vibe." Chris replied, flipping his bucket hat backward with flair. He strolled toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, striking a series of ridiculous poses. "Yeah, you’re welcome." He said as he walked off-camera, leaving the other three in stitches.

Nick went next, cooler in hand.

"Get ready to witness greatness." He said, lifting the retro cooler above his head like it was the Holy Grail, showing it off.

"You go, queen!" Y/N cheered, nodding her head while watching him.

Nick smiled brightly, placing it down carefully and reached for the towel draped over his shoulder, unfolding it with slow, deliberate movements. Too slow.

"This is taking forever." Matt groaned, crossing his arms.

"Nick, it’s been 30 seconds. Just lay the towel down!" Chris yelled.

Nick ignored them, carefully smoothing out the towel on the floor, his face the picture of focus. Once he was satisfied, he walked down the "runway", throwing some expressions to the camera before almost gluing his face to the lens, taking his glasses off.

"Iconic." Y/N said between laughs.

"Thank you, thank you." Nick replied, bowing before dramatically kicking the towel aside as if to signal the end of his performance, his right hand fanning himself as the last act.

Matt was up next.

"Alright, let me show you how it’s done." He said confidently. Grabbing his sunscreen, he opened the cap and squeezed a dollop onto his fingers, dabbing it on his cheeks like football player stripes.

"Well, you gotta stay protected, I guess." Y/N muttered, smiling with how Chris was rooting like crazy.

Laughter escaped her lips as Matt sauntered toward the camera, showing off the sunscreen like it was a designer handbag. He struck a confident pose, holding the product up, before walking back off the camera with an over-the-top smile.

Finally, it was Y/N’s turn.

"Your move, Y/N." Nick said, gesturing grandly toward the imaginary runway.

"Alright, alright, give me a second." She said, thinking fast.

She reached into her straw bag, pulling out the pair of oversized sunglasses that she had thrown there at some point, dramatically placing it on her face. Then, grabbing a small beach towel she had tucked inside the bag, she draped it over one arm like a sash.

"What’s happening here?" Matt asked, intrigued.

Y/N strolled onto the "runway" with slow, exaggerated movements like a madame arriving at a five-star resort. Halfway down, she pretended to feel the heat, pulling an actual bottle of water from her bag and taking a sip before fanning herself with her hand.

"It has to have the fan move!" Nick applauded, grinning to the scene before being interrupted by Chris’s comment.

"Of course, I created it."

At the end of the runway, Y/N stopped, tossed her sunglasses off dramatically at the ground, and struck a ridiculous pose with one hand on her hip and the other shielding her eyes as if she was shielding her face from the sun.

"That was solid!" Chris exclaimed, clapping.

Matt, meanwhile, was in awe, hands on his head.

"Are you kidding? That was really good. A thousand points. Game over. Y/N wins. Everyone go home."

Nick scoffed.

"Matt, stop simping for two seconds so we can keep this contest going."

"I’m not simping." Matt argued, clearly lying. "I'm just stating facts."

"Shut up, Matt."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

For the Mix-Matched Madness theme, the camera panned to the boys standing in a line, proudly displaying their chaotic ensembles.

Chris was clad in a bright red varsity jacket over a striped shirt, camo pink shorts, and mismatched knee-high socks with chunky boots.

Matt decided for plaid shorts layered over one plaid pant leg, a pastel blue and yellow sweater vest, and a floppy dog-ear cap.

Nick went to a plaid jacket layered over a striped shirt with a perfectly coordinated tie, and matching sweatpants and sneakers.

"Guys, I’m clearly superior." Nick started, raising his eyebrows as he adjusted his glasses. "My outfit is actually intentional, look at this synergy! It screams fashion-forward."

Matt groaned, rolling his eyes and looking at Chris with a 'is he serious?' expression.

"Nick, you’re wearing matchy-matchy plaid in a mix-matched challenge. You’ve missed the assignment!"

"It’s ironic." Nick shot back, crossing his arms. "I’m doing intentional matching. If I were in a real runway right now, people would actually like my outfit."

Chris scratched his head, looking between them.

"Isn’t that kind of cheating, though?"

Before the debate could escalate further, Y/N stepped into the frame, causing all three boys to give her their attention.

Her outfit was next level: a bright purple sequined crop top paired with one lime green legging on her right leg and a fluffy, neon orange sock on the other. She wore a skirt made of layered, clashing floral patterns that didn’t quite match the fuzzy checkered cardigan she threw on top. To finish it off, her accessories included a leopard-print beanie - the one she stole from Matt's closet -, oversized sunglasses, and two entirely different shoes, a silver stiletto on one foot and a Croc on the other.

The boys gawked.

"Okay, now that’s mix-matched madness." Chris said, pointing at her.

"Girl, you look like you fell into a thrift store... and it worked." Nick added, looking both impressed and slightly annoyed.

"How can you still look so good while wearing... that?" Matt asked, pointing at her outfit with his hand while shaking his head in disbelief.

Y/N twirled dramatically, holding out her skirt as she grinned at the camera.

"Thank you, boys. I like to call this 'chaos with confidence'." She invented the random name, throwing a quick kiss to the lens.

Chris threw his hands up.

"Alright, I’m officially placing second now."

Nick groaned, shaking his head dramatically.

"No way. She’s great, but I’m still winning. Look at this tie!"

Matt laughed.

"Nick, your tie doesn’t save you from breaking the theme. You’re disqualified."

The scene cut to the "runway", where each of them showcased their chaotic outfits with an equally chaotic performance.

First up was Nick. He confidently strutted forward, reaching for the end of his tie. With exaggerated flair, he lifted it as if someone were pulling him forward, his face a picture of mock shock and drama, stumbling forward.

"Ey, keep going!" Chris hollered, nodding enthusiastically.

The moment he reached the end of the runway, he grinned mischievously, running his hand dramatically through his hair and tossing a sultry look at the camera before taking off his pink glasses.

"Work it, Nick!" Y/N chimed in, her laughter mixing with the chaos.

Nick turned on his heel with a laugh, sauntering back to the start and throwing a praying gesture, ignoring how Matt laughed, mockingly imitating his act.

Next, Matt stepped up, adjusting his floppy dog-ear cap before suddenly spinning it backward.

"Showtime." He muttered under his breath, earning immediate chuckles from the others. He walked to the camera with a cocky stride, crossing his arms and bending slightly to the side.

For the final move, he pivoted and moonwalked his way back to the start, nearly slipping on his mismatched shoes but recovering with a grin.

"Did you see that? Effortless." Matt declared, earning boos and laughs from the rest.

"You almost ate it, Matt." Y/N teased, shaking her head.

Chris stepped up next. And, of course, he brought drama.

"Hold my jacket." He said, then immediately shook his head. "Actually, no. The floor will."

With exaggerated aggression, he ripped off one of his red lobster gloves, throwing it to the ground with flair. The glove was followed by his belt, which he unbuckled and tossed with equal energy.

"Oh my God." Y/N looked at the camera with wide eyes.

"What is happening?" Nick cackled, practically doubling over, slapping Y/N's arm.

Chris wasn’t done. He walked up to the camera with an intense expression, holding his hands out and touching the screen, acting as if zooming in.

"Enhance." He said, squinting into the lens. Then, as if the camera wasn’t worthy, he spun dramatically on his heel, walked back, and threw off his varsity jacket mid-stride before striking one final pose.

"Now that’s how you do it." Y/N joked, looking at the camera. "Like and subscribe if you want Chris to make a strip tea-"

"Y/N!"

For Y/N's turn, she adjusted her oversized leopard beanie with a dramatic flair and tilted her sunglasses low on her nose, revealing a dead-serious expression underneath. She strutted forward slowly, dragging her stiletto along the ground for added effect. When she reached the camera, she whipped her head to the side, making her orange fluffy sock the star of the moment.

But it didn’t end there. Y/N suddenly crouched down into a deep squat, raising one hand in the air and striking a pose like she was ready to pounce. The boys immediately broke into cheers and laughter.

"Yes, queen!" Nick shouted, jumping in the place and clapping, laughing loudly.

"She nailed it." Matt said with a proud grin, nodding his head.

Y/N slowly stood, turning to the side as if the camera had disappeared, and walked off like nothing had happened.

"Thank you." She said nonchalantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder as the others applauded.

"Alright, I officially retire." Nick said, throwing his arms to the air in a surrender gesture.

"Same." Chris picked up his lobster glove from the floor, grinning.

Matt sighed, smiling at Y/N's figure.

"She’s unbeatable. Let’s not do these challenges anymore if she’s in them."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The scene cut to the next category: Rock Concert. The boys had gathered in front of the camera, each flaunting their edgy outfits.

Chris leaned casually against the wall, dressed in all black with his bandana tied around his head. His sunglasses were perfectly placed, and a Bluetooth speaker hung over his shoulder like a statement piece.

"Clearly, I’m the embodiment of rock concert aesthetic." He said confidently, adjusting his speaker strap.

Nick crossed his arms, giving Chris a side-eye. He was sporting his long-sleeved shirt adorned with skulls and intricate spiderweb patterns paired with black cargo pants and chunky boots.

"Please." Nick retorted. "I’ve got literal death on my shirt. That’s as metal as it gets."

Matt, standing in the middle, smirked. He wore a black leather jacket over a white shirt, complete with a silver skull belt buckle and leather pants that practically screamed rockstar.

"Yeah, but have you seen my belt?" He argued, lifting his white shirt slightly to show it off. "This is peak rock concert material. I even coordinated it with my jacket."

"Okay, but who do you think the crowd would look at first?" Chris challenged. "The guy with the bandana, all black, and sunglasses? Obviously me. The speaker only makes it better."

Nick rolled his eyes.

"You look like you’re trying to be a cool dad sneaking into a concert." He teased.

"Alright, alright." Y/N interrupted from off-screen, stepping into the camera frame and effectively stealing the show.

Y/N’s outfit was on another level. She wore a black 'Bon Jovi' cropped top with silver detailing that matched the chains on her leather mini skirt. Fishnet tights peeked out from under the skirt, leading down to a pair of knee-high combat boots that added an extra edge to the look. To top it off, she wore a cropped leather jacket with studs on the shoulders and accessorized with chunky silver jewelry and a black choker.

The boys fell silent for a second, staring.

Y/N smiled brightly at them before turning to the camera, raising her right arm and making the 'rock and roll' gesture by raising her pinky and index fingers and lowering the others.

"'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars and live in hilltop houses driving 15 cars..."

"Girl, what the fuck?" Nick widened his eyes, looking from Y/N to the camera with a look that screamed 'are you guys seeing this?'

Matt laughed loudly, recognizing the song from one of the TikTok trends that Y/N had been obsessing over the past few weeks, being quick in imitating her position, and starting singing with her.

"... the girls come easy and the drugs come cheap, we'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat-"

"Okay, that's enough of that." Chris interrupted the pair, gesturing to them while shaking his head in disbelief. "So, Y/N wins."

Nick groaned dramatically.

"Let's take her out right now. I don't wanna play with her anymore."

Matt couldn’t stop smiling.

"Can we just talk about how she’s nailing this? Like, can we get her to join the band we don’t have?"

Y/N laughed, giving a mock bow.

"Thank you, thank you. Now, let's just be clear, I already won." Y/N said with a sly grin, stepping forward. "You'll all lose time if you keep discussing who's the best between you three."

"How can you be so sure?" Chris crossed his arms, carrying a superior instance.

"Because I actually listen to rock." She said, shrugging like it was obvious. "AC/DC, Bon Jovi, Kansas, Asia... should I keep going?"

Nick groaned.

"Okay, that’s true, but it doesn’t count!"

"Doesn’t count?" Y/N repeated, feigning offense. "I think you’ll find that the fact I actually know rock makes me the winner by default." She turned to Chris. "Tell me. Have 'yall even listened to ‘Highway to Hell’ all the way through?"

Chris hesitated, playing with his earphones.

"Uh... I mean." He looked at Nick. "Probably?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

"Thought so." She crossed her arms. "So, I don’t need a skull belt, all-black everything, or death on my chest. I’ve got the actual music taste. Rock is in my veins, boys."

Nick groaned dramatically, throwing his head back.

"She wins. I hate it, but she wins."

"Alright, fine." Chris muttered. "But we still look better."

"Not a chance." Y/N teased, spinning in place again and winking at the camera. "This outfit screams rock goddess."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The boys were now proudly sporting their "Zoom Meeting" outfits. Chris held up his MacBook, Matt adjusted his glasses with a goofy smile, and Nick tugged at his black tie, looking down at his bright heart-shaped boxer shorts with fake professionalism.

"Alright." Chris started, addressing the imaginary Zoom meeting in front of him. "Gentlemen, let’s get to business. As you can see, we’re all clearly dressed to impress."

"Except for Nick." Matt teased, nodding toward his brother's boxer shorts. "The hearts? A little too much, don’t you think?"

Nick scoffed, feigning offense.

"Excuse me, at least I have this tie that says I’m both professional and emotionally available. A winning combo."

Matt rolled his eyes and gestured to his own look.

"Meanwhile, I’ve got balance. Business on top, relaxation on the bottom."

"That’s literally the whole theme." Chris pointed out with a smirk. "You’re not special, Matt."

Y/N watched from her spot leaning against Matt's bathroom door, her legs crossed as she sipped from her mug of coffee that she made while waiting for them to get ready. She was dressed comfortably yet stylishly, rocking an oversized beige knit sweater that draped perfectly off one shoulder, paired with black leggings and fluffy white socks. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, with a few strands framing her face. Despite the boys' chaotic energy, she was nailing the whole "effortlessly cool" vibe.

"Y/N, you’re way too cozy for a Zoom meeting." Chris said, pointing at her as he adjusted his loose white shirt.

"Well." Y/N said with a playful grin. "Unlike you guys, I know how to mix comfy with class. You all just look ridiculous."

Nick gasped, dramatically clutching the box in his hands.

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous?! Look at this tie! I’m the epitome of professionalism!"

Chris leaned toward Y/N, pointing at Matt.

"What about him? He’s literally in boxer shorts."

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipping from her mug to hide her smile.

"You're all wearing it, dumbass." Her eyes lingered on Matt's red boxer shorts for a moment too long. "It’s really interesting that someone would think boxer shorts are appropriate for a Zoom meeting, actually."

Matt smirked, striking a random pose.

"Are you jealous?"

"No?" She said quickly, shaking her head. "I mean, it’s not like anyone else on the Zoom would see them, right?"

The other two brothers caught on instantly, grinning like Cheshire cats.

"Y/N." Nick teased. "Are you saying you wouldn’t let your Zoom co-workers see your boxers?"

"Nick!" She exclaimed, throwing an exasperated look at him. "That’s not the point!"

Chris chimed in, laughing.

"Yeah, Matt. She’s definitely jealous. She wishes she could wear boxers to a meeting."

"I do not!" Y/N huffed, crossing her arms, though a smile tugged at her lips. "I just... don’t understand why he’d even bother wearing the shirt if he’s just going to go full casual anyway."

"It’s called commitment to the aesthetic." Matt said, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder, discretely squeezing the exposed skin. "Something you clearly wouldn’t understand."

"Oh, I understand commitment." Y/N shot back with a smirk, meeting his eyes momentarily. "But let’s be honest, none of you are winning any awards for those outfits."

"Excuse me?" Nick said, pretending to be outraged. "I’m clearly the winner here."

"Winner?" Chris scoffed. "You’re wearing socks pulled up to your knees, bro. That’s not even close to a win."

Y/N chuckled as she watched them descend into a full argument over who had the best Zoom look, but she couldn’t stop her gaze from flickering back to Matt’s outfit. Something about the casual confidence he exuded - boxers and glasses - had her feeling just a little possessive and turned on.

"Alright." She announced, clapping her hands to get their attention. "If you’re all done arguing, let’s see who can really sell their look with a runway walk."

The boys' faces lit up, and they quickly got into character.

Nick was up first, confidently sliding across the wooden floor in his socks, arms spread wide like a figure skater. As he came to a stop, he reached for his boxer shorts and dramatically lowered them until they hit the ground, shouting a little "Oh!".

Matt immediately yelped.

"Nick!" He yelled before lunging forward to cover Y/N's eyes with both hands.

"Matt! What are you doing?!" Y/N laughed, trying to swat his hands away while Chris doubled over in hysterics.

"Protecting your innocence!" Matt declared, keeping his hands firmly over her face.

Nick, unfazed, quickly pulled his boxers back up and began walking toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, tugging at his tie and making ridiculous faces as though he were a real model.

"You’re unbelievable!" Chris murmured through his laughter, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Well, we've got 2 strippers now-"

"Y/N!"

Nick turned dramatically to face her and winked.

"You’re welcome for the show."

Next, it was Matt’s turn. He walked to the middle of the floor, cracking his knuckles with a sly grin before suddenly dropping to his hands and knees.

"Uh, Matt?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What...?" Nick added, genuinely confused.

Then, without warning, Matt lifted his left leg to the side like a dog at a fire hydrant.

The realization hit everyone at once, recognizing the movement from one of the rounds of DTI that Matt and Chris played, and the room erupted into cheers and laughter.

"That was perfect!" Chris shouted, clapping his hands.

Matt stood up, brushing imaginary dirt off his shirt with a smirk, and walked toward the camera with crossed arms, striking a serious pose like a model in a high-fashion commercial.

"Okay, that was actually cool." Y/N admitted, giggling as he walked back to join them.

When it was Chris’s turn, he shook his head with a grin.

"I’m sitting this one out." He said.

"What? Why?" Nick asked, incredulous.

Chris shrugged.

"I’m already the main event. I’ll let Y/N steal the spotlight this time."

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, so now I have to go?"

"You got this!" Matt encouraged, nudging her toward the runway.

"Fine." She said, standing up and straightening her oversized sweater dramatically.

Y/N walked off the camera and took the book she'd been reading the past few days from the coffee table, walking back to the frame before delicately putting it on her head like a balancing act. She strutted confidently toward the camera, balancing it all the way, then stopped to pull out her mug, striking a victorious pose before taking a slow, exaggerated sip. The boys erupted in applause.

"You can call me Barbie now." She started, turning to the boys while opening a wide smile before pretending that her hand was a microphone. "On top of the world where I can see everything before me reaching up to touch the sky-"

"Okay, singer girl, pipe down a bit." Nick raised his right hand, exchanging perplexed looks with Chris, who was laughing.

"Okay, she wins." The youngest admitted, shrugging in defeat.

"Unreal." Matt said, looking at her with obvious pride. "You’re way too good at this, Y/N."

"Okay, okay, she wins. No one can top that." Nick nodded at Y/N. "But I think Chris gets second place in this one."

"No, I give you number one." Chris insisted, pointing to Nick while Matt just observed.

"I can't accept that. I'm just happy Matt's wearing his blue light glasses again." Nick's voice turned dramatically high-pitched, clearly imitating the fandom.

Before anyone could react to him, Matt ripped his glasses off of his face, bending it backward until it snapped, small pieces flying everywhere.

"Matt, why would you do that?" Y/N yelled, looking at him with wide eyes and open mouth - just like the other two - before pouting, looking miserably at the shattered pieces. "I liked that one."

"I don't like those stupid jokes." Matt simply replied, looking unfazed at his brothers and Y/N.

Nick and Chris kept looking from Matt to the camera and back, their expressions full of shock.

"You're going to buy another one just like that one, I don't even care." Y/N ordered, crossing her arms and looking directly at Matt, raising her eyebrows as if to say 'dare disobey me.

"Fine." He sighed. "Sorry."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Extra - comments:

"okay but can we talk about matt literally saying ‘I’m off limits’? someone tell me what’s going on here 🤡"

"nick casually calling out matt girls for voting on matt only bc they want to sleep with him had me SCREAMING 😭"

"why was Y/N blushing when matt said he was off limits? I SEE YOU, GIRL!!!!"

"the dynamic between Y/N and matt is giving major dating vibes"

"wait, why does matt always seem to hype Y/N up just a little more than chris and nick? like, we get it, dude. she’s awesome. but tone it down, or we’ll all start connecting dots 🤨"

"as a fellow rock fan, I have to say Y/N listening to AC/DC and bon jovi automatically makes her my fave"

"not Y/N convincing matt with zero effort to do the rockstar trend with her 🤧"

"I’m not saying I ship Y/N and matt... but I also kind of ship Y/N and matt. the way he looked at her with that dress??? man, I know that look"

"matt breaking his glasses and then Y/N ordering him to buy another one and him ACCEPTING IT???? and saying sorry???? omg that's just girl boss right there 🙏🏻"

[snovyda]

Fanfic Plagiarism alert!

Attention, especially for the people in the following fandoms: Mission: Impossible (specifically Benthan) and Top Gun Maverick.

It brings me no joy to say that we have a big problem in these fandoms - a shameless serial plagiarist who copies other people's fanfics from other fandoms, changes character names and sometimes a few desciptions of the settings or adds a few sentences or paragraphs when they feel generous, and posts them as their own. It is literally Ctrl+C / Ctrl+V type of thing.

My friends and I have reported this person repeatedly on ao3, but we still have not received any response from the staff.

Seeing posts from fellow Benthan fans who are excited about the fact that we are getting close to having 1000 Benthan fics on ao3 makes me sad because of this, because I know quite a few of them are just not legit, and, since ao3 has not responded in months, I guess I have to do a good old public call-out.

This person is known on ao3 by the pen name rosexpetals. If they are reading this, I can only recommend them to delete the stolen works (not just the ones listed in this post, if more are stolen, they can be found later anyway) and take a long look at themselves and reflect on their actions. I wish for them to discover the actual joys of writing something of their own, of expressing their own feelings instead of hijacking other people's.

Below the cut are the links to the works and their sources that I and a couple of friends were able to find using just a simple quick Google search. Out of their 96 published fics, at least 29 are provably stolen (and those are just the ones we were able to find via simple searches), which gives off a strong feeling that none of their work is really original. Some of them were copied from the same source twice. 9 more fics are copies of each other, but in different fandoms (very likely just copied from the same sources). As you will see below, sometimes they didn't even bother to change the title of the original fic they were stealing from or its summary:

Fandom: Mission: Impossible (Benthan)

Fic: where's the trophy? (he just comes running over to me) Plagiarized from: where's the trophy? (he just comes running over to me) (by riceenthusiast)

Fic: and i'll hold onto you Plagiarized from: Tender Loving Care (by as_with_a_sunbeam)

Fic: bedroom eyes like a remedy Plagiarized from: Keep Me Afloat (by Atalia_Gold)

Fic: i'm sinking, our fingers entwined Plagiarized from: Kisses to Make it Better (by steviewashere)

Fic: the way you hold me (is actually what's holy) Plagiarized from: scars. (by letthesongtakeflight)

Fic: call it what you want to Plagiarized from: care & feeding (by glim)

Fic: my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Plagiarized from: Their Fingers Run With Blood (by FoundInTheStars)

Fic: cause saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts Plagiarized from: Shrill Wails That Steal The Air (by Metalbvcky)

Fic: wherever you stray, i follow Plagiarized from: the fate of a con (by shrewritesall)

Fic: fall into me and i'll catch you, darlin' Plagiarized from: Safety II (by zozofia)

Fic: i hear the sound of my own voice, asking you to stay Plagiarized from: ['til you sizzle, what a lovely way to burn] (by tacos_are_tasty)

Fic: all's well that ends well to end up with you Plagiarized from: would it be enough if i could never give you peace? (by playthetyrants)

Fic: this most assuredly counts Plagiarized from: Must've Done Something Right (by fides_rationem)

Fic: something to rely on Plagiarized from: Unguarded (by trufflemores)

Fic: your string of lights is still bright to me Plagiarized from: your string of lights is still bright to me (by blueberriesandcream)

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Fic: bigger than the whole sky Plagiarized from: Bigger Than The Whole Sky (by catrasredemption)

Fic: look at this godforsaken mess that you made me Plagiarized from: for you i would ruin myself (by mraudersmoon)

Fic: i love you, i adore you (i lay my life before you) Plagiarized from: All That I've Been Yearning For (by Sokkas_First_Fangirl)

Fic: starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night Plagiarized from: Of Speeches and Sofas (by as_with_a_sunbeam)

Fic: i don't wanna lose you (that's the kinda heartbreak time can never mend) Plagiarized from: would it be enough if i could never give you peace? (by playthetyrants) - yes, same fic copied again

Fic: you can see it with the lights out Plagiarized from: Tender Loving Care (by as_with_a_sunbeam) - yes, AGAIN

Fic: and i'll forget you (but i'll never forgive) Plagiarized from: Hold Me Closer (by sweet_symphony0)

Fic: you can hear it in the silence (you can feel it on the way home) Plagiarized from: I'd search you in all of my lives (by sunflwrs)

Fic: and my destination (makes it worth the while) Plagiarized from: Pushing Through The Darkness (Still Another Mile) (by Sokkas_First_Fangirl)

Fic: give up on you, my dear (i will never) Plagiarized from: I Lay My Life Before You (by Sokkas_First_Fangirl)

Fic: as if you were a mythical thing Plagiarized from: The Ghost in the Attic (by as_with_a_sunbeam)

Fic: you drew stars (around my scars) Plagiarized from: Value (by trufflemores)

Fic: in my life (i love you more) Plagiarized from: Whistle, I'll Be There (by lovetheblazer)

Fandom: The Beatles RPF

Fic: can't ignore the rest of the world; can you stay and make me feel better? Plagiarized from: love me, always (by darkdisrepair)

Self-copied fics posted by the same person in different fandoms (possibly copied from the same sources)

Benthan fandom: sit with you in the trenches Top Gun fandom: you're all i want, i'll never let you go

Benthan fandom: i vowed i would always be yours Top Gun fandom: standing at the crossroads, no desire to run

Benthan fandom: can we always be this close? Top Gun fandom: in all your pain (i will carry you, always)

Benthan fandom: i know you're scared (and your pain is imperfect) Glee fandom: i'll never let you go The Beatles fandom: my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

[steviebbboi]

Once Upon A Friendship

Pairing: Childhood Bestie!Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 8.6k~ guys i obviously have a problem, my fics just keep getting longer and longer and idk how to stop

Rating: Teens and up!

Disclaimer: Well, well, here we are~ submitting this lil ficlet for @witchywithwhiskey's Slasher Summer Writing Challenge using the following prompts: carnival/county fair + forced proximity + "You think that's blood?". & Because I also wanted to engage with our writers community even more cuz <3, -- I'm also submitting this to @the-slumberparty Sundae Bar challenge: Chocolate (secrets will be REVEALED), butter scotch (childhood friends and the feelz is real 🥹), french vanilla (cause forced proximity trope was inevitable for our reader), w/ toppings of chocolate syrup (established relationship), graham crackers (flashback-backstory heavy), and toasted almonds (🫣get ready for some angst).

Summary: Growing up together, you and Steve were inseparable. Where did it all go wrong?

***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't cuteeee~~~~

Warnings/Triggers: Minors just be mindful that this has mentions of teenage sexual activity but not explicit (all age appropriate) but adding my warning below just in case, explicit language in few pieces of dialogue, ANGST with a happy ending, childhood besties to enemies/strangers, bucky, wanda, and nat are your besties too, steve is a shit communicator, both steve and reader are young and a bit naive, cheesiness ensues, fluff, work is not beta'd so any grammar mistake is my bad!!

*Any comments/reblogs are much appreciated and are so encouraging - more than you know. Pls don't hesitate to interact with me <3

“Argh, Wanda, no– I told you, I hate these things!” You whined despondently while grabbing at her arm.

“Look, you only have to go straight in and see it all the way through! It’s not like there’s any detours.” Wanda replied while giving you a deadpan look. 

You returned the look with your own mocking face, “Wan, you know that isn’t the reason why I hate these things! They grab at you and try to scare you.” You shivered at the thought of one of the maze actors dragging you away somewhere where you couldn’t be found.

“Well…that is their job, y’know?” Wanda said, holding her chin in mock thought. You scoffed and shoved her playfully while she giggled at you. 

“Plus, it’s so hot out! It’s probably so stuffy in there, especially if we go in with a random group.” You complained while attempting to fan yourself while holding your hair up off your neck. This summer was brutal, you couldn’t believe that anyone would be at the carnival fair today. But alas, everyone seems to want to enjoy the last throes of summer. 

“We won’t go in with a random group - Nat said that they’re going to meet up with us before we go in.” Wanda said distractedly while taking out her phone, assuming that she was going to be checking in with Natasha.

Your brain took a second to process what she just said before you froze, your mouth agape, “Wait, ‘th-they’re’? Don’t tell me…”

Wanda stood ramrod still as if lightning just struck. The finger that was twirling her own hair froze its mindless motions as she stared at her phone unblinkingly as she realized her mistake. 

“Argh, Wanda!” You hissed out and covered your face with both of your hands in genuine despair.

Wanda held a guilt-ridden expression, “Oh no, I’m so sorry, chip – I completely forgot that he would be coming-- honest!” 

You released a heavy sigh and closed your eyes to mentally prepare yourself for dealing with the person that you despised the most in this world.

Steve Rogers. The bane of your existence. 

Well, not really (-ish).

He also happened to be a guy that you have been crushing on since you were 10 years old.

Did he know this? No. But even if he did, you would be the last person on Earth that he would pick. How do you know this, do you ask?

You and Steve knew each other since you were basically in diapers. Alongside Bucky and Nat, the four of you grew up together. Although, that didn’t stop you from drawing the short end of the stick when dealing with your pre-pubescent teen years. 

You were a late bloomer– while Nat developed boobs and became a natural flirt at 13 years of age, you were still dealing with the bullies at 13 years old whilst trying to navigate hormones, underdeveloped boobs and pre-teen acne. Bucky quickly developed a barely there mustache and a smirk that made all of the other girls swoon (though, you were convinced that it was really just for Natasha instead). And Steve…well, Steve was like you. Underdeveloped, skinny, no hair to be found on his face. He was as tall as you, and dealt with the bullies way worse off than you ever had to do. 

But that didn’t stop you from falling in love with Steve Rogers. 

Steve was one of your best friends. He always looked after you, whether it were mean girls coming to pick on you again or making sure that you got lunch together. You walked home together, stayed at each other’s houses to study or play video games. You developed a routine where one day in a week, you would order a chocolate chip milkshake while he got a vanilla whip at your local diner, and stayed there for hours just talking about your common interests together. Steve gave you your nickname, ‘chip,’ since he constantly made fun of the fact that you got the same milkshake everytime.

You also remember when the both of you decided to be each other’s first kiss. It was awkward and weirdly coordinated, but it was nice and you trusted each other. You both laughed afterwards and hugged, swearing to each other your friendship was still intact. When your parents would make playful jokes or tease you about when you and Steve were going to be a couple, you blushed and would shy away. 

Where Steve was, you were there too. 

You were basically inseparable as you both knew that you two were the underdogs of the group. Bucky and Nat quickly became the ‘It’ power couple as you all entered into highschool. Steve and you were the glue to your little gang and it just felt so nice to not be alone.

Thankfully, you were able to grow more into yourself by the time that you were 16 years old. Your skin cleared up a bit as you learned to develop a skin care routine, and your boobs started to actually look like there were two of them. Though, you never could quite get past the social isolations (despite the fact that your two best friends were the hottest and the most popular kids at school). 

And while you changed a little bit, Steve…well– Steve changed alot. It was like one day he just woke up and became the guy that he was always meant to be. He started developing a build and grew a beard, had a huge growth spurt and joined the football team. He became strong and capable of anything. But, he was still Steve. He continued fighting for the ‘little guy’ even though he became on par with Bucky and Nat’s social class at school. 

Unfortunately, with Steve’s new social status came the one thing that you couldn’t compete with: Sharon Carter. 

Captain of the cheerleading team, it was almost natural for Steve and her to become a couple. You remembered the day that Steve and you hung out after school for your regular milkshake when he told you quietly that Sharon asked him out to the junior year annual dance. He blushed beautifully as he told his best friend the news, and you made sure to plaster on a fake smile and told him that you were happy for him.

After he took you home, you did your homework, took a shower– and as you got into bed, you cried yourself to sleep feeling utterly alone for the first time in your life. 

Things changed after that. Steve couldn’t walk you home because he was walking Sharon home. He couldn’t play video games with you at yours because he was at Sharon’s. Then, he started canceling your daily milkshake hang outs. 

“I’m sorry, Chip- I have practice to get to.” 

“Sharon mentioned that she needed my help today. I’ll see you next week.”

But next week came and went, and still no Steve.

You quickly realized that Steve was blowing you off when you caught him making out with Sharon at the library in school when he told you the day before that he was going to be at football practice. 

You didn’t mean to catch him at all - but you heard noises and glanced over to see him and Sharon behind the well-known ‘hook up’ section of the library. You squeaked in surprise since they were only half clothed, Steve with his shirt off and Sharon in only her bra. As you stood there shocked, you caught Steve’s widened eyes as they both turned to look at you. Sharon was pretty annoyed that you interrupted them (clocking her narrowed glare), but Steve at least had the decency to look embarrassed as they both put their clothes back on. 

The shock of catching him in the act wasn’t as surprising (as much as it broke your heart, you knew that people in relationships would typically take it to that level fairly quickly). What was surprising was Steve’s reaction. You thought that maybe he would apologize for lying to you, or for blowing you off as many times as he did. But instead, he cleared his throat and his eyes became more stern as he didn’t say a word. He took Sharon’s hand in his and left. 

You remembered standing there for another 5 minutes until you saw another couple glare at you as they took Steve and Sharon’s space. You didn’t even get what you came for– you walked straight home, crying, despondent over losing your best friend. (It was the movie scene where the side character gets discarded and cries silently in the rain - you felt so pathetic).

From that point forward, you didn’t bother texting Steve anymore. And he didn’t ever attempt to text you. He ignored you in the hallways and you didn’t ever look up at him when you would pass each other either. 

Throughout all this, Nat and Bucky were there for you when you came to them about what happened and your waning friendship with Steve. Nat was pissed while Bucky looked confused as to how your friendship could change so quickly. Even though they were still close with Steve too, Nat and Bucky made sure to include you more during their hangouts or offer to take you home, which you felt grateful for, but it didn’t change the fact they had each other. And that you were still alone. 

College was your wake up call to move on from Steve Rogers. You applied to universities that were all out of state, intentionally left your decision last minute so that no one could talk you out of it. Your parents didn’t approve but ultimately respected your decision. 

You remembered graduation where all of your parents made you take a group photo on the bleachers. Nat and Bucky were on the higher step as you and Steve took the lower one. It was awkward as you two barely looked at each other, and fumbled on where to place your hands. It was Bucky who eventually groaned exasperatedly and placed your hand on Steve’s back while he placed his around your waist. 

You recall the moment that really ended things between you and Steve, which was a party at one of Bucky's friends’ places. Nat and Bucky invited you to come in order to have your ‘last high school experience’ (whatever that meant). Unbeknownst to them, you were leaving the next day for settling in your new university halfway across the world. 

The party was blasting obnoxious EDM and the house was littered with red solo cups and other kids yelling at each other as they played beer pong. Feeling so displaced, you took a beer and headed upstairs to look for an empty room. 

Just your luck, you would enter the one that had Sharon (again, half-naked) on top of Steve (who was again, also shirtless) on the bed. You obviously interrupted them in the middle of something again. As they both turned to look at you, Sharon groaned your name in annoyance with an ‘ugh, seriously?!” and for you to ‘‘get out.’’ You couldn’t help but ignore her as you looked at Steve once more. 

He had this same look of annoyance in his eyes as he sat up on the bed that was so unfamiliar. You’ve never seen Steve look at you like that before– as if you were a nuisance or some sort of insignificant thing. It was the same look that he gave you at the library. He became the bully that he used to protect you from when you were kids. 

Something took over you in that moment where you felt your already fragile heart just shatter into several pieces. Though, somehow, all traces of self-pity and loneliness left your body as you coldly looked over at this stranger that you realized you maybe never really knew in the first place. In that moment, you tuned out Sharon’s nasty words, and only looked at Steve with an intentional, apathetic glint in your eyes. 

The words just slipped out before you could even process them:

“I wish that I had never met you.” 

You could mutedly hear Sharon scoff and give some sort of insult (you couldn’t really remember honestly) since the only thing that you waited for, and wanted to notice, was Steve’s reaction. You watched as the traces of annoyance in his eyes glazed out and changed into something that looked akin to shock, panic and something else that you couldn’t place. 

Satisfied with finally being able to impact him for once, and to let him know how much you hated him in that moment, you turned to leave determinedly– you were pretty sure that you heard him yell out your name before you left but you slammed the door hard, ran down the stairs, and out of the house until you made the trek home. 

You told yourself that night, as angry tears fell out onto your pillow in your childhood bedroom, that you would move on from Steve Rogers. That you deserved more and that you were going to make space for yourself in your own way. 

As you settled into your new apartment, met Wanda as your new roommate (and now your certified best friend), you received a call from Nat and a text from Bucky.

Natasha was, naturally, upset at you for leaving without telling her. She made you promise to never do that again and to come to her more when you needed her. You felt one piece of your heart pull together again at how sincere and emotional Nat was on the phone. You realized that you may have also neglected your best friend when you and Steve were close, and promised her on the phone to never let that happen again. 

Bucky sent a text saying, “Dude, what the fuck,” which is pretty polite for him, considering the context. You apologized and explained to him your desire to build your own life and while he was still mad at you, he expressed his understanding and respect for your decision.

Bucky and your relationship was never very close like Steve’s and his was, but he always looked after you (in his own way). You felt protected by Bucky in ways that you couldn’t with anyone else, and you knew that he would always ultimately support you as he would his younger sister. He told you to text him if anyone were to bother you, and you promised that you would check in with him daily.

You did receive one text from Steve: “I’m sorry for everything, chip.” That was all he wrote. 

You glared at your phone and deleted his text, so overwhelmed with your anger and determination to remove Steve Rogers from your life. It seemed as if your lack of response was enough for him to get the message that you were done since he didn’t text you since that day. 

At Uni, you really grew and developed into yourself. You became involved in college campus life, got a job as a TA, had a boyfriend or two. You dated one guy for six months before calling it off since you were better off as friends, and any other flings that you’ve had were short-lived or just didn’t land well enough to be in a committed relationship. 

But you learned alot from these relationships and ultimately felt grateful to connect with people as you proved to yourself that you were something without the people back home. That you were more than the girl who loved Steve Rogers. You were proud of yourself for that.

Flashforward to now, you’ve just finished your freshman year of college. You’re visiting home for the summer to visit your parents, and to visit Bucky and Natasha, both of them ultimately decided to attend one of the local colleges. You kept your promise with them and stayed close, and even brought Wanda back with you– since introducing her to them last week, she became fast friends with your childhood friends. 

You haven’t really spoken to Steve since that last stint in high school. Considering that your two best friends were still close with him too, and your families were all close, you couldn’t exactly avoid him. But you never talked about what happened in highschool. At the chance that you would see and interact with each other, you would greet him politely even though there was still some animosity there. 

Steve wasn’t outwardly mean or rude, and he would try to talk with you more than once before in the past year, but you were evasive everytime in avoiding anything deeper than a “hello, how are you doing?.” You would stuff down the guilt from his disappointed and hurt expressions as you actively avoided him. You brushed off your friends who were begging you to try to repair your friendship with Steve– and just go back to school, blissfully living in ignorance. 

But now, as you stood in line awkwardly waiting for the Summer Queens County Fair’s haunted corn maze with Steve (your friends suddenly “needing” to get some drinks or go to the bathroom while Steve and you waited for tickets in line), you felt like you wanted to pass away from the how thick the tension filled the air.

You could practically feel Steve’s tense energy in attempting to engage you in conversation. And damn him, he looked good. His muscles looked even fuller as they were accentuated by a basic white tee, and his beard- argh, his beard- only made his features even more rugged and handsome. 

You hated the way that he could still make your heart flutter, even after all this time had passed. 

“So,” you almost jumped when he finally broke the silence. “How have you been, chip?” 

You felt yourself take a minute to defrost your stiff and frozen body as you turned to look at him. You met his curious gaze and said blatantly, “I’ve been okay.”

Silence filled the space again as your bluntness seemed to envelop the air around you. “Uh, that’s good. Are you…–how are you finding your classes?”

You looked back at him with narrowed eyes and just felt a rush of frustration move through you seeing his eager expression, that puppy dog look that always made you feel empathy for him suddenly made you feel annoyed and impassive.

“We don’t have to do this, Steve.” You said to him bluntly while crossing your arms defensively.

Steve’s own eyes narrowed in confusion and he swallowed heavily. He seemed to be thrown off by your comment. “I’m just trying to get to know you again, chip–”

“Well, I don’t want you to get to know me, Steve, okay?!” You interrupted him as your voice raised before lowering in the latter half. 

Looking up at him, you met his eyes for the third time that night, but what you didn’t expect to see was that he looked so crestfallen and sad. 

The guilt that has built up over the past few years swooped in and rested heavily in your chest. Instantly regretting your outburst, you sighed, “Look, I just think that we may be better off just not talking to each other, okay. We don’t have to try to be friends again just because our friends forced us to finally interact with each other since highschool.”

Steve winced at your cutting words, and he still had this sadness on his face as he looked down at his feet before he said quietly, “I’m not trying to…–I just…it’s been a long time, chip. The last time that I saw you, with Sharon and with what you said, I–,” you both winced in that quick rehash of the incident. Steve finished with a weary sigh, “Honestly, I just miss you.” 

You frowned when listening to his words as the sincerity behind it felt displaced, and out of nowhere. You also couldn't help but feel concerned as you really looked at him. Outwardly, Steve looked as put together as he usually did. But people weren’t used to seeing him the way that you had growing up.

Looking closer, his eyes weren’t as bright as they could be, and they looked tired. Slight dark circles were forming underneath his dim eyes, shading his fully bearded face that was just a tad unkempt. He looked like he hadn’t been sleeping well and his shoulders had a hunch to them that could be perceived as calmness when you knew that it more resembled a tiredness or despondence. 

Your frown was still on your face as you elected to ignore his declaration of missing you and simply asked, “Are you okay, Stevie?”

At your question, Steve noticeably straightened up and his mouth parted in surprise that reflected in his eyes. You both stood there for a moment as you stared at him with concern and him looking at you with…mirth? With your lips pursed, you glanced at him with narrowed eyes at seeing the humor alight in his eyes, brightening them a bit more towards its familiar shade of cerulean blue.

“Okay, what just happened?” You asked suspiciously. 

Steve’s eyes brightened more and the grin that was growing on his face grew even larger into a soft smile. “You called me Stevie.” 

You lurched back a bit as you replayed the moment briefly in your head and stuttered a bit at the realization. You hadn’t meant to call him that at all, but when you saw that sad look on his face and the signs of it on his body, you couldn’t help but recall moments similar to when you were just kids, walking home, checking in with each other during similar moments, but experiencing these things together. 

“Uh- I– I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to call you–,” You blushed and stuttered as you tried and failed at attempting to save your slip. 

“No,” Steve interrupted you, his smile wilting a little bit. “Please, don’t apologize for that. I,– I miss us when we were just kids. Nobody calls me that anymore, well, beyond Nat and Buck, of course.” He said sheepishly while running his hand through his hair, disheveling it even more into a natural, annoyingly perfect quaff. 

You gave him an assented hum and cleared your throat as you looked back down at your feet, giving the flattened grass an invisible kick. You both were quiet again but the awkward animosity wasn’t as present as it was before. You both shifted on your feet a bit more before glancing up at each other from time to time, barely missing each others’ eyes before finally, your gazes met each other at the right time. 

He was looking at you differently– this time with that good-natured smile and levity in his eyes that glinted at you with that same ‘something else’ that you couldn’t quite put a finger on a year ago. 

His small grin was reluctantly infectious as you felt your lips start to curve upwards as a response.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes trying to stuff down your smile as you replied with a cheap response. Memories surfaced again of your witty banter that you used to share that always started with Steve’s little smile, and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as you opened them again to meet his own humorous gaze.

Steve’s soft smile grew into a teasing smirk, “That’s good, at least I got a smile and a laugh from you before you start to avoid me again.” 

You only gave him an incredulous look at how blatantly out of pocket that sounded before letting out a sudden, full belly-laugh with him. You couldn’t believe that you were laughing again with Steve Rogers. 

You felt this feeling again too - it wasn’t heartbreak, but rather, the shattered pieces that were shoddily put together again throughout the years felt solidified just a little bit more.

The laughs died down and the both of you remained standing there with genuine grins on your face. Before you lost your nerve, you felt a sudden urge to have him listen to you, to hear you, and to understand what really happened between you two. 

“Steve–,”

“Chip, I–”

You both looked at each other and laughed for a moment before he indicated for you to go first. His grin looked so boyish and sincere, you couldn’t help but smile back at him as you two were just high school kids in Brooklyn again. Comfortable and authentic, together. 

About to open your mouth, you get interrupted again by the person that you least expected to see on your visit back home.

“Chip? Steve? Oh my gosh, is that you two? Wow, chip! Look at you, you certainly grew into yourself!” Sharon’s pitched voice pierced the mutual bubble that was starting to form between you and Steve and flattened its existence.

You gave her a quick glance over and were internally surprised to see that she seemed to be exactly the same. Her eyeliner framed her hazel brown eyes that were widened in what looked like surprise, and with a hint of condescension (cause why wouldn’t she look down upon you with all of that pity). Her blonde hair resting softly down her back as she stood there in her floral skirt, her friends right behind her glancing over at you and Steve disinterestedly. 

You stood there and gave her a fake shoddy grin as you greeted her back politely. “Sharon, wow, hi.” Your monotonous tone couldn’t be covered up in time before the words left your mouth.

She only gave you a dull hum before she glanced over at Steve with a smirk. “Hi Steve, how are you?” 

The curious part of you couldn’t help but try to catch Steve’s reaction to her presence. You had no idea where things left with them since you left that day, and you never bothered to ask your friends either. Assessing him, he was looking at her with a nonchalant expression, and you were unsure of how deliberate his reaction was as he made small talk with her. 

Trying to gauge his expression, there wasn’t any sadness present in his eyes anymore, nor was there any mirth. But, you did notice a stiffness there. The corner of his eyes crinkled a little too harshly as he forced a polite smile onto his face. You could see his jaw clench as Sharon droned on about her college experience.

Time couldn’t erase the fact that you did know Steve Rogers for some time– and when he was uncomfortable, he wasn't able to hide it at all. 

The theatrical tunes of the fair and the echoes of people screaming in mirth and laughter suddenly came back in as you hear the booth employee for the haunted corn maze (this line was way too long for what it was worth) call for you and Steve to step on up. 

You couldn’t stifle the quiet mutter under your breath, “thank god” as a wave of relief flooded through your body at being able to escape the dangers that you just experienced as you turned around to follow the employee to the front of the maze. You didn’t even say bye to Sharon, and you didn’t even realize that your friends hadn’t returned from their supposed tasks. 

Your mutter may have been louder than you thought as you heard a snort from beside you. Glancing over, Steve was looking down at you with a returned humor that you just rolled your eyes at him. “Well, it’s not like you wanted to be there anymore than I did. Your tells are still exactly the same, Stevie.” You said derisively. 

Ignoring the harshness of your tone, Steve only smiled more as you slipped boundaries again. You only caught it when you saw that he was simply just staring at you in response. Only then did you catch it and you rolled your eyes again with a small smile. His smile grew more as he intentionally leaned and walked into your path as you both followed the employee. You stumbled to your left at his deliberate clumsiness and shoved him away from you playfully before you could stop yourself. 

You’re teasing around with Steve Rogers. And reluctantly admitting, you weren’t unhappy about it. 

You both continued to shove each other away as Steve kept teasing you until you reached the front of the maze. The employee turned to face you before you went inside to explain the rules and you were listening attentively until you heard a throat clear from behind you. Looking back, you see that it's Sharon and her friends. 

Trying to, but unsuccessfully, cover your agape mouth at seeing that they were actually following behind you this entire time, you clenched your jaw with annoyance and turned to face forward again.

The despair that you felt come in earlier from Steve’s arrival has returned tenfold with Sharon’s presence. Paired with the fact that you’re being forced to have entered a haunted corn maze, your hackles rise angrily at the fact that you’re being forced into a situation with both Steve and Sharon that you didn’t even wanna be a witness to, AGAIN.

Feeling suddenly so tired and exhausted, you let out a despondent sigh, “Okay, are we doing this or what?” The employee merely raised their eyebrows before motioning you to move forward in the maze.

You could feel Steve’s eyes following you as he tried to walk next to you, but you could hear Sharon trying to engage with him again. You could hear him respond but you didn't really care anymore. You didn't mean to be rude, but you were feeling resentful of all of it again. Especially hearing Sharon’s whiny voice trying to speak with Steve right directly behind you, you once again felt utterly alone. 

Torches and string lights lit up the corn maze. Although, the night sky was void of any lights or stars, which made the maze really feel like a maze– isolated and desolate. You could hear Sharon’s two friends in the back muttering that they were scared as they let out occasional, little screams at any sounds that could be heard (even if it was just the wind grazing the corn harshly, or honestly, the sounds of their own footsteps, ha.) 

Feeling so bored and wanting to leave, you turned around to just go back when you saw Sharon holding on to Steve’s arm with a worried look on her face. 

You were passing by some rows of hay with a sticky red substance spilling all over it when you heard Sharon’s small screech.

“Omg, you think that’s blood?,” She said with a genuinely worried tone. 

You wanted to laugh so bad as you looked over at Steve, just in time to see the rolling of his eyes and heavy sigh. She seemed to be grasping onto him with an even tighter grip and although Steve wasn’t shaking her off, he did have that uncomfortable look on his face again.

His second aggravated sigh and furrowed brows gave away his annoyance as he attempted to subtly create some space between his body and her touch. You turned forward again as the laughter erupted in your throat, but you managed to stifle it in time with a pursed smile on your face at hearing Sharon’s affronted noise in response. 

You could read a mean girl from far away at this point – Sharon’s attitude wasn’t lost on you nor was her sudden closeness with Steve. But it didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would, even if you found out that they were still together after high school. Honestly, a part of you felt satisfied that Steve, the one responsible for the existing tension between you in the first place, was finally just as uncomfortable as you were. To see Sharon offended and to see Steve’s discomfort made you feel a sense of justice and a resurged faith in good ol’ karma. 

That pride you felt in being able to find your own comfort in your healing made you feel giddy. You weren’t in any sense of a relationship that held any drama. It felt good to know that the forced proximity didn’t just affect you at this moment. Yeah, sucks to suck, doesn’t it?

You flinched a few times as you continued walking throughout the maze with some actors coming out to scare you, but as you saw the glaring red Exit sign, you couldn’t wait to get outta there. Speed walking at this point, you were determined to walk out of this maze with your gaze forward, determined to not look back at the two sore points of the past few years. 

You made it to the exit and sighed in relief. You were already a few paces away when you heard Steve call for you.

“Wait, chip! –” 

The body is a wonder - your mind was so fixated on leaving but when you heard him call out for you, your mind flashed to the both of you waiting in line, flashed to the sounds of your laughter mixing together, the feeling of him leaning into you. You didn’t want to but, suddenly, your feet just stopped in place and you turned around to look over at him. Hope swelled in your chest…

And there was Steve. And Sharon. Kissing. 

You inhaled deeply at the sight, not expecting to have caught them, yet again, mid-kiss. The tension knotting in your stomach finally exploded, and your stomach dropped making your feet feel so heavy. It was like watching a car crash happening in front of you - you felt fixated and couldn’t move, turn away. The hope that was swelling in your chest evaporated like mist, and you felt so foolish. The pieces that were somehow lodged together again from your earlier interaction broke into pieces, and felt grinded into dust. The wind took its opportune moment to breeze through your hair, and it almost felt like it intentionally took your longing for your best friend again with it.

Steve gripped Sharon’s arms harshly, shoving her away from him with an angry expression on his face. “Sharon, what the hell?!” He exclaimed. Turning away from Sharon and her pouted expression, his widened eyes frantically found yours. 

Even a few feet away, the panic that you saw in them was familiar. You remember seeing it exactly when you had severed the existing relationship between you and Steve that night. 

You couldn’t help your reactiveness– you were feeling so triggered by what you were witnessing. Your vision started to get blurry as you felt that familiar burning sensation building in your eyes. The panic in Steve’s eyes intensified at the sight, and when he made a move to step forward, your feet instinctively took one step back. 

Completing the reenacted memory, you felt your mouth press into a hardened line as you met his gaze with a ferocious determination. Familiar numbness rose up and a lethargic apathy just washed over you. You bravely met his gaze and although the words weren’t being said, you and Steve both heard the words.

“I wish that I had never met you.” 

The truth was, the anger and rage that you were feeling (and let’s be honest, the resentment that you suppressed and just gaslit yourself into reframing it as healing) was just the surface. Underneath, a deep and hollow feeling of just being unwanted and undesirable bubbled up with a vengeance. You didn’t wanna hear it, but you were tired, were abandoned by your friend(s), and energy depleted from tonight’s event. You knew you couldn’t be there any longer. 

Your feet continued to step back slowly as you heard Steve asking for you to please wait - but then Sharon took his arm again needily and you took that as your opportunity to bolt. 

You dropped your teary-eyed gaze away from his almost desperate looking one, mumbled out a quick excuse and left with a brisk nod. It was just like when you were 17 again, you heard Steve call out your name again but you don’t stop to look. You didn’t see him staring after you so longingly and looking so dejected, nor did you see him blatantly remove his arm from Sharon’s grip again while they hushed out intense looking whispers at each other. 

The parking lot of the carnival was in sight as you wiped away the bitter tears from your face. You knew that leaving was immature of you, and you knew that you would disappoint your friends. You knew that you were breaking your promises to Nat and Bucky (and now Wanda) about talking with them before making any impulsive decisions.

You reached your old pick-up and opened the door harshly. The tears wouldn’t stop as you stood outside the car. Almost child-like, your hands curled into fists as you brought them to your eyes and just sobbed. 

For a moment there, you thought that maybe…maybe you could start again. Maybe you and Steve could rekindle your friendship, or at least, talk things through. You thought that maybe you’d be able to continue laughing again. You shook your head, feeling so much pity for yourself. 

Heaving out another wilted sigh, you closed your eyes and tilted your head back to allow the fresh winded air to dry your tears upon your chilled face. You needed time to think, and you knew exactly where you wanted to go, and what you needed. 

The sweetness of the chocolate shavings melted in your mouth, leaving only the sugary taste behind. You took another sip of your milkshake and made sure to swipe some whipped cream from the top for an extra sweet finish. 

The diner was mostly empty, spare a truck driver or two sitting by the bar tops. You mindlessly stir your milkshake some more with the plastic straw and couldn’t help but relieve another sigh from your body. You came to the diner for nostalgia’s sake, and a chocolate chip milkshake was always a huge dopamine boost for whenever you were feeling sad. 

But this time, getting your favorite milkshake at the diner left more of a sour taste in your mouth as each sip just reminded you of Steve.

You decided that you would try to bring yourself to feeling better before you left for home, which meant drinking your milkshake, making small talk with Betty (the sweet, old waitress who has been giving you milkshakes for free since you were a teenager), and settling the grievances that you could actually fix. 

You instantly texted Wanda to let you know that you had left the carnival, and that you hoped that she was having fun going to the bathroom for the past hour. Instantly receiving an apologetic text back for ditching you with Steve, you figured it was as good a time as any to also let her know that she would have to ride back with Bucky and Nat (given the fact that you also had basically left her there too). She sent you the mouth wide open face emoji, and you knew that you both could call it even.

Nat texted you a selfie of her and Bucky pouting remorsefully. It was enough to make you crack a grin (Bucky looked so ridiculous). You demurely sent them back a picture of your middle finger (because you were the bigger person of course), which only had her text back an apology with an IOU. You knew that they were only trying to be your friends, but at least you would have this photo as blackmail for future purposes. 

You started to play a game on your phone mindlessly when you heard the door ring, indicating a new customer walking in. Not even looking up, you proceeded to win the next level of the game until someone set another chocolate chip milkshake down on your table. 

“Oh, it’s okay, Bet, I didn’t want–,” you started to say as you looked up. But it wasn’t Betty who dropped off the milkshake. 

It was Steve. 

Your eyes widened a bit in just processing that he was actually there, standing in front of you. He actually came to find you? The scene from earlier was so crystal clear and akin to your high school memory, you were convinced that that would be it. As you sat there staring doe-eyed at Steve, the scene had felt like it glitched as it was now playing out differently than you had expected.

Heat rose to your cheeks as your gaze focused on Steve’s determined facial expression. You turned forward to face your new milkshake and deliberately avoided his narrowed gaze. You could feel him still staring at you and you shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t say anything but moved to sit across from you in the booth, heaving out a heavy sigh of his own as he did too.

You kept your eyes down as the both of you let the silence permeate the air around you. A few minutes passed before you were about to officially just get up and leave when Steve broke the silence first. 

“I swear,” he turned to look over at you with an exasperated gaze. “I had no idea that she was going to be there.”

A disbelieving scoff came out of your mouth and you rolled your eyes blatantly. “Steve stop, again, you don’t have to do this – “ 

“Stop saying that, chip!” His voice was filled with a sternness that you couldn’t ignore. Your eyes widened at him as he continued, “I’m here because I want to be, okay? Not cause Bucky, or Nat, or your family told me to or forced me to. I found you - and I asked you to wait earlier and you ran away, again!”

A glare scrunched up your face as your fury rose up at the audacity of his scolding, “Excuse me?! I didn’t want to wait because I didn’t want to watch you and Sharon sucking each other’s faces off, again!” You flourished your mocking with a tight expression and only caused Steve to oppose you even more.

“She was the one who kissed me – I didn’t want to be there with her either. I haven’t even seen or spoken to Sharon since you left!” Steve blurted out.

Your heart felt like it was racing in your chest and your mind blanked at hearing Steve’s reveal as you tried to stutter out a response. “What– I don’t–,” words were hard. You thought that they were together for some time during the year in college. With the way that Sharon was acting, you assumed that they were still interacting with each other, somehow, at the very least.

Steve took advantage of your surprised silence and continued, “God, chip. After what happened at the party, I just…I realized then how much I hurt you.” He looked at you with such remorse as you just continued staring at him. The hardness that was built over the years was still surrounding you, trying to protect you, even if Steve was professing his regret. 

“When I heard you say that you regretted having ever met me,” you both flinched at the words as he said them, “and this look in your eyes…it looked like you really despised me and I felt it and I just–,” Steve cut himself off with another flinch and pinched his eyes shut. 

“I let it get to my head. When I made the team and when people started to pay attention to me, when those bullies stopped bothering me and actually invited me to things, I lost sight of what really mattered to me the most and that was you. I know that that is a stupid excuse, and that I was hurting you, even way before what happened at the party and I was dumb, immature, and just stupid, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, chip.” He spewed out the words faster than he could coherently process them but the sincerity could be heard in his rushed tone. 

His downcast, teary eyed gaze met yours and you felt your breath hitch slightly at the sight. Growing up with Steve, he was always the formidable one. He was the one who reached out first to hold your hand if you cried. The one to maintain composure and calmness while you were the one who was more nervous and panicked. To see Steve so out of breath, wistful, and low-spirited was worrisome and unfamiliar to you. 

You were at a loss for words as you tried your best to process his words. Steve bit his lip nervously as he tried to gauge your reaction. When you only met him with more silence, the despondent look in his face only grew, “Please. I completely understand if you still don’t want to be friends, and after this, I’ll completely leave you alone. But honestly, chip, I can’t leave knowing that you still hate me. I- I know that’s selfish, but I can’t.” 

You moved your stare to blankly look at your melting milkshake, the whipped cream completely evaporated into the cold drink. 

“You hurt me.” You blurted out.

Steve almost looked startled at hearing your voice after such a lingering silence. “I know, and I’m so sorry–.”

“No, Steve,” You interrupted him indignantly, “you hurt me.” The tears blurred your unseeing gaze again as you focused enough to meet his own. The whimper dislodged in your throat as you could no longer hide the suppressed pain.

Just like that, the both of you were 15 years old again. You were crying after being teased by other kids or bullied for your flaws, and Steve was there trying to console you. The impact of these experiences were a shared burden impenetrable to your friendship together.

The difference now is that, instead of your tears being spurred by the mean-spirited popular kids, Steve was the one who committed the offense, a betrayal that cut so deep and you were the only one to shoulder the burden. 

Steve swallowed heavily as he blinked furiously to hold his own tears at bay. He seemed to understand what you were saying as his eyes glanced over the different features of your face. He knew all of your vulnerabilities and ignored, neglected his care of you by treating you the way that others had growing up. He abandoned you when you needed him the most, and he had to understand the severity of that in the same way that you tried to tell him then as you were now. 

Steve exhaled deeply as he looked over at you. His still despondent eyes held a layer of genuine understanding as he apologized despairingly, “I’m so sorry.” 

You sniffled as tears fell freely onto your cheeks, your puffy eyes and pained expression causing Steve to flinch in his own despondence. You brought a closed fist to your face again to wipe the tears and winced as you suddenly felt strong, sturdy arms envelop you in a soft embrace.

The tears only came down stronger at the feeling of hugging your best friend. Not feeling so alone anymore, your heart cried out with you in relief as you turned and tucked your face into his chest, your arms moved to clutch his back. Once you did, his embrace only became tighter as he squeezed you to him closer. 

You both sat there for a while, just hugging, soft sobs falling from your lips while Steve continued to repeat quiet, but earnest, apologies. After a year of animosity, sadness, and unresolved hurt, the both of you silently agreed to let this moment just be. 

Eventually, your tears stopped running so harshly and you sniffled back your snot-filled nose very charmingly as you reluctantly pulled away from his warmth. Steve still kept one muscular arm around your shoulder as you looked up at him hesitantly.

“Stevie?” You began to ask. Steve responded with a soft hum for you to continue while rubbing your shoulder soothingly. It didn’t even seem like he noticed that he was doing it.

Before you could lose your nerve, you meekly asked, “Why did you start pulling away from me when you started dating Sharon?” 

Steve’s hand froze and he stilled as if he were preparing for the worst. He sighed while closing his eyes for a moment. Taking a breath, he opened them back up to look at you with a resolved and honest gaze.

“When I told you that Sharon asked me to the prom, I thought that would’ve been the moment that you told me that you liked me the same way that I liked you.” 

Your heart thundered so loudly in your chest as you gave him a shocked, glazed over expression. 

He liked you.

“But then you smiled at me, and you said that you were happy for me, and, I guess a part of me felt like I was foolish to have ever thought that you would actually like me more than a friend. I continued things with Sharon because I felt like I had to get over you.” He said regretfully. 

You blinked up at him a few times before you asked dumbly, “And that’s why you were pulling away? The lies and the fake excuses, or why you ignored me when you were with Sharon?” 

Steve flinched with each question as he confessed, “Yes. It was really immature of me to ignore you. If I could go back and do it over, I would in a heartbeat.” An intentional look sat on his face as he expressed his remorse. 

You released another speechless hum in return, still processing that Steve liked you. In a spur of your own adrenaline running through your body, you suddenly disclosed, “Steve, I did like you the way that you liked me.”

Steve stilled and inhaled sharply, “...W-what do you mean?” 

Mustering up your own fostered courage, you exhaled deeply and said, “I liked you too. But I was your best friend. I thought that you were the one who didn’t like me, so I thought that if I supported you in dating Sharon, I wouldn’t lose you completely.” You felt your face scrunch in confusion as how ridiculously unnecessary this entire separation was.

He only looked at you with incredulity as he realized, “So, because we couldn’t just buck up and tell each other honestly in that moment that we liked each other, we ended up losing each other anyways?” 

“Ugh, what a mess.” You revered and knocked your forehead against his chest ashamedly. You both were quiet again as he resumed rubbing your shoulder calmingly. 

“Chip?” Steve suddenly spoke out. 

Raising your head up to look at him again, still cringing from such a huge misunderstanding, you gave him a soft hum to continue his inquiry. 

Steve looked down into your eyes, making you feel mesmerized with how deeply he was gazing at you. From how close your faces were, you could really see the subtle hints of green in his blue eyes. There was still some grief there as you looked at each other but there was again, something else that you still couldn’t point out. 

Noticing that unknowing glint in his eye for the second time that night, you questioned him curiously hoping to finally find out, “What is it?”

“I like you.”

Your breath hitched at his confession, his eyes filled with mirth again and an honesty that couldn’t be faked. Your thundering heart skipped a beat as you felt your own spirit restore within you. You could feel those pieces in your heart start to build again. 

You looked back at him with such relief as Steve pulled you in closer, you took in another deep breath as you responded.

“I love you.” 

His eyes immediately glowed with an infectious joy, a genuine laugh and smile graced his face as he got closer to you. You could hardly breathe as you returned his loving gaze, his nose nuzzled yours gently until the both of you met each other halfway in a tender, first kiss. 

A/N: my cue to say: and they lived happily ever after! i would love to know what people thought, thanks for reading :)

Main Masterlist

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Tag List is Open :) [submit a form if you would like to be tagged in any of my works]

Tag(s): @patzammit @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @stellar-solar-flare @mercurial-chuckles

[vagabond-umlaut]

affaire de cœur

Plucking one's heart from their chest and devouring it is all 'affairs of the heart' meant to the King of Curses— until his Queen walked onto the stage of his life, that is.

▸ trueform!sukuna x wife!reader; comprises of elements inspired by the tale of 'hades and persephone'; gallons of domestic fluff between sukuna and reader; hints of spicy times; no warnings except sukuna is very much sukuna here but you too are there, so he's sort of a better sukuna... [not loads better, though]

▸ belongs to the series 'mine? yes, mine.' but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

"Repeat those words after me, my lord."

"No."

The pouty face you vault his way from the other end of the bathhouse makes Sukuna huff an annoyed sigh. Few monsoons back, you would never even see him in the eye, gaze trained on his feet – until he lifted your chin up; even then you would shyly avert your gaze — yet, now?

Now, you show the boldness to wear such a pathetic expression while making such an imbecilic request– nay, demand of him– locking your gaze with his the entirety of the time, no less.

Another sigh finds its route past his lips. Watching the way those sin-filled lips of yours twitch in a tiny smile before dipping into a pout, he groans.

"Alright. Fine," Sukuna grumbles, resting his two arms on the edge of the tub while the other two move to card through his damp hair, "Will you ever leave me for another, woman?"

Your eyebrows rise for a beat, the second the question you chomped his ears off earlier for, leaves his mouth. Your lover rolls his eyes, loud scoffs erupting from him at the utter inanity of the whole situation at hand — you, not beside by him, but beside those damned towels and bath soaps; him, not soaking in the warmth of your flesh but of these bath waters; the humid bathhouse not resonating with the sounds of your whines but with the remnants of a query, whose answer he does not care the least for, for no matter what you say or do, he will not—

"Yes, I will."

Your clear voice scatters his thoughts away, akin a strong wind and a handful of chaff. Sukuna freezes, every crimson eye of his fixed upon your approaching figure– your soft footfalls, your yellow yukata, your simple hairdo, your angelic smile...

Your husband takes a while too long before discovering his lost voice, eyes narrowed, throat tight and chest heavy as he asks you, "You will leave me, pet?"

"Uh-huh, I sure will," you hum in response, sitting on the stool next to the tub and moistening a towel. Sukuna moves to grasp your wrist in his palm but pauses when he catches you switch your attention from the towel to him, a terrifying emotion brimming in your tender gaze.

You draw in a tiny breath before speaking, voice now a mere whisper.

"Show me someone who is the most feared creature to ever exist, yet is a sulking mess if he isn't being cuddled in bed till noon every single day; someone who detests humans like I detest carrots, yet visits the monthly market in secret, to get gifts for his close one; someone who everyone's told me is the worst, yet goes on to prove, again and again and again, how he's the absolute best in this world—"

You stop suddenly.

Chest growing heavy from an entirely different reason now, your lover drinks in the manner your smile widens, your fragile fingers letting go of the cloth to trace those markings on his skin instead – you resume.

"Show me someone whose embraces feel the safest place in all the three realms, and I swear, my king, I'll leave you and run to his arms without thinking twice."

For the first time in his millennium of existence, the two-faced curse feels the same distress of being paralysed, as his mere mien induces in the muscles of his miserable victims— except, it isn't the fear of an end to his life which is causing this abhorrent weakness to him unlike those worthless mortals— no.

It is the fear of the unknown, of the uncharted, which is rendering his powerful self so, so powerless before your blinding brilliance. Sukuna thinks death might be an easier journey to undertake than these odd realisations your voice and touch elicit in him always.

These days, more so.

This moment, very much so.

The addicting timbre of your voice rouses him from his musings, the second time that night.

"Is every–"

"Is that supposed to be a love confession?" Your husband cuts you off before you can finish your question. You slowly blink at him once then twice, before leaning backwards and picking up the forgotten cloth, a visibly coy giggle bubbling out you as you return to washing his skin.

"Yes," you agree after a beat, gaze darting to his face before skittering away again, "That is supposed to be a love confession for my beloved king; though I wonder what my lord thinks of it. Was it heart-touching as I intended to make it? Or did it sound too tedious to him?"

The addressed being deliberately makes a big show of rolling each of his four eyes at your query. "Neither," he says, curling his lip in a show of vexation before they lift a little at the lower lip you jut out, "And you should count yourself to be lucky that you're my wife, not a worthless mortal, pet. For if you were not my wife–"

"– you would've sliced me into halves without a moment's hesitation," you finish the rest of the sentences for him with a fond shake of your head. "Trust me, my king, I know you. I do, I rea– Sukuna!!!"

The startled shriek of his name— not my lord or my king but Sukuna —parts the curse's lips in a smirk, which widens on noticing the warm water slowly seeping into your clothes, making them translucent; and you staring up at him with a disbelieving look etched onto your pretty face.

Sukuna allows his smirk to melt away into a genuine smile, for once.

Nestling your drenched form closer to himself, he closes his eyes to rest his forehead on your shoulder, palms holding you as if you were not a member of the race he lives for the sake of tormenting, but an invaluable blessing, beings he has never believed in, sent earthward for his damned self.

Which is true, the curse reckons. You indeed are a blessing he knows he doesn't deserve – yet will keep for and with himself for an eternity and some more.

Pressing you closer to himself, your husband lifts his head to plant a kiss to your forehead, followed by your warm cheeks — hoping you'll understand the meaning behind every reverent contact he's marking your form with now.

After all, you know him really well, don't you?

[You do— which is only why you reciprocate every brush of his sharp canine over your skin, with a brush of your soft palm over the wicked, handsome, wickedly handsome visage of the love of your life.]

▸ masterlist

[dollyrins]

　　　⁰¹ ─── SOULMATES

　𓍼　　au — boyfriend ! sae x gn ! reader

　𓍼　　fic type — end of the world, angst, a bit of fluff,

　𓍼　　warning — crying, a few kisses, implied death

　𓍼　　word count — 562

　𓍼　　rav's notes — honestly writing this kinda made me tear up

The clock counted down faster than it ever had. The minutes slipped between your fingers faster than water. You waited with a look of acceptance on your face, phone clenched tightly in your shaking fist. The tears that had rolled down your cheeks while you were talking to your family had become dry. 

Sae walked out from your shared bedroom and sat next to you on the couch. A deadly silence spread between you both. 

Uncharacteristically, Sae was the first to speak, “Y/n.” It was a hushed whisper of your name, making it almost seem like if he spoke any louder the world would end sooner. 

You looked over at your lover and your eyes welled up all over again. With shaking hands you reached out and touched his face, making sure he was still there with you. 

“Sae,” you say with quivering lips. 

He leans into your touch and for a moment everything seems alright again. 

Then all of a sudden, everything hits you at once again. In just a few moments nothing would exist. You and Sae would not be here. 

No one would be. 

“I love you Sae,” you say, before pressing a light kiss on the tip of his nose like you always did before a big event. 

He sucks in a sharp breath. “I love you too,” he says, returning the kiss with one of his own. 

Sae looks into your eyes before reaching for something in his pocket. He slides out a velvet box and you look at him wide-eyed. “What is that?” you question. 

Instead of answering he moves off the couch before getting down on his left knee and the tears finally slip. “I was supposed to do this later this year,” he confesses. 

“Will you marry me, Y/n?” he asks, opening the lid on the box. Inside sparkles the most beautiful ring you’ve seen. 

You throw yourself into his arms repeating “yes yes yes yes yes” a million times over and Sae feels his heart swell with too many emotions. He holds you tight by the waist and finally lets his own tears soak your shirt. 

When the two of you finally pull back he slips the ring onto your finger and it sits there snug and perfectly. 

A sad, yet joyful smile makes its way onto your face as you imagine how different your life could've been. Moving your eyes away from the new possession, you look at your fiancé and say something so ridiculous. “Promise me that we’ll find each other somehow, somewhere if we can.”

“I promise,” he agrees, before closing the gap between you two. 

The kiss is soft: full of unspoken things, a bit salty, yet to you it’s as perfect as it could be. The two of you pull back for a moment to catch your breath and take the time to imprint the other’s face in your mind. 

You truly believed that if soulmates existed, Sae Itoshi was yours. And he knew you were his.

Wiping your tears, you lean in for the last time as Sae embraces you. Your lips locked together as the moon draws closer and closer to the Earth. 

It was the end of the world, but it would never be the end of your love. That thought comforted you as you closed your eyes, imagining that everything was alright. 

© dollyrins do not plagiarize, translate, copy, repost my writing anywhere

[blkkizzat]

tw: discourse, plagiarism, drama, etc. im a bit snarky here but i reserve that right. the truth could never be a diss.

I hate that it had to come to this as I have had this blog since Aug 2023 without ever having to do something like this. But being gaslit and when people start blatantly playing in my face like I’m stupid is where I draw the line. I will not tolerate any kind of plagiarism with fics I work hard to create for free while working full-time and going to grad school.

Tumblr user @/rissouu has plagiarized my work. Specifically part 3 of Plug!Choso fic (with minor things from the end of part 2) with their brat taming/plug!choso smut drabble. I posted p3 of my fic on 7/3/24 they posted their drabble on 1/1/25 [screenshots below].

Note: This is not a direct word for word copy, but heavy detailed inspiration including dialogue, actions, reactions, sexual situations, etc. It’s been said to me by many other people I have consulted to get their opinions, that it reads like a watered down, condensed, version of my smut scene —and I would have to wholeheartedly agree.

(more details below)

Now to be clear: I do NOT own any concept. I hope I can effectively convey in this post I am NOT doing all this because someone wrote plug!choso or brat taming!choso and combined them. There has been plenty of both, even combined, well before I even wrote my fic and has been in the months after, none of them have been anything like my fic. Also these have BEEN my sentiments as I expressed this months ago when I kept getting TNMN concept asks/dms after my fics:

Not to mention I give tutorials and share methods of how to do my graphics, formatting fics, writing tips, etc as I believe in knowledge and information sharing. I haven’t ever played gatekeeper on a single thing. 

Sidenote: 98% of the people who have ever tagged me as inspo credit per my statement above didn't even need to do so. But I appreciate they did. It shows their character and integrity that they would even consider doing so when its not 100% needed nor expected, so thank you!

the drabble @/rissouu posted is on the far left column and specific excerpts from my plug!choso fic are in boxes in the middle and to the right. Each box on the drabble is color-coded and connected to corresponding boxes with my excerpts. Every single paragraph connects to my fic: 

Now, the crazy thing here is @/rissouu even tags this drabble #plug!choso as the first tag. Yet there is not one mention of drugs or plugs or even a damn ibuprofen anywhere lmfao. When confronted on this they said—

"it's strictly to give that kind of aggressive/dominant or stoner man vibes, so i don't care as much to input it into the writing itself. me tagging it as 'plug choso' [...] is simply to reach out to my audiences who like the concept of plug!choso. i do this mostly for my girlies of color who i try to reach out to more because it's what they request and like." [full convo screens at the very bottom]

Now, I'm ignoring the problematic implications that only poc girls would like or write plugs, so I'm gonna table that and y'all can make what you want of it. What I want to focus on is this weakass excuse. It's the fact that writing a plug/drug dealer fics does not make that character automatically aggressive or outwardly stoner. There's infinite ways to write a single concept [and as someone who has actually done alot of party drugs and had many dealers living in nyc before, the best dealers are the ones who don't look or act like ones!]. So it's mind boggling a writer would explicitly tag a concept because they were too lazy to actually write it in the fic. Then assumes everyone will interpret it the exact same way and get their meaning from the tag of a generic concept and not their actual story lol 😭. Insanity.

100% transparency, I thought the fic was rip way before I even got to the bottom to see the plug!choso tag. The tag just confirmed it more for me.

Now even with ALL this, I still likely wouldn’t have brought it to the TL. Even though I think it’s clear she took inspo from me and is straight lying through her teeth, I could have let it go. However the next thing @/rissouu did was so insane and shameless, I can't let it go. Like personal creativity and imagination in the trenches but plenty of audacity to spare. This is just a slap in the face.

So the timeline (pst) goes like this:

@6:20pm @/rissouu replies a few times, she explicitly says she will read my chapter to see if there are any similarities. [full convo screens at the bottom]

@7:06pm I posted rm!choso and babydaddy!toji who reader has a baby girl with but they broke up.

@8:59pm @/rissouu posts babydaddy!Choso who reader has a baby girl by but they broke up and takes ANOTHER part of dialogue/reaction from p3 of plug!choso.

Is this real life?

I know if someone accused me of plagiarizing them and I told them I would read their work to check… I wouldn’t in less than 3 hours later post a drabble with one of the same concepts from a fic they just posted 2 hrs ago, and then turn around use the more dialogue/reactions from the other fic they just accused me of stealing from, that I just told them I was going to read!! And I for damn sure wouldn’t have claimed to have just “pulled this outta my ass” !?!? Like @/rissouu really said, fuck all of what kali saying and her artistic integrity with this post loud and clear lmfaooo.

Sorry but *in remy ma voice* b*tch is you DUMB!? Like I know I'm cracking jokes right now, but this situation is so ridiculous it’s gotta be a joke, so I’m treating it like one. They clownin’ with the whole damn circus cause wtf is this 😭😭?? 

You know what else is circus behavior? This disclaimer: 

Lol… so consequences for everyone else but you girl? Okay lmfao. Like such aggressive disclaimers for someone doing exactly that.

Ironic though that all 3 times I have had to confront someone about plagiarism/inspo (in dms) in the past couple months I have been gaslit in the exact same ways.

Their first defense is always “this is a common concept” —Sure, but it shouldn’t be executed in the exact same way, so closely to my fic that's why I'm speaking up.

Their second defense is always, “oh I have written this [topic, headcanon, dialogue] before.” Great. I’m not speaking of those prior times, I’m ONLY concerned that 100% of their current drabble mirrors my fic. They could have written 50 drabbles on this topic/concept, there's no reason any of them should so closely mirror mine.

Finally, the third thing is (after proof is given): “well you don’t own the use of these details or these words. so I didn't copy!” No, I don’t own the individual words or phrases or actions. What I DO own is how those individual words, phrases or actions come together in the fic I wrote. The fic that @/rissouu mirrored and diluted. 

One more thing before screenshots of the full convo. You can see on the very first one below that I had been following @/rissouu for 11 months lol, so since 1 month after they created their account. Granted, I don’t think we’ve interacted much at all as I do follow lots of people but I try to spend most of my free time writing or interacting with commenters, anons, closer moots or those who reach out to me. But I know for a fact i've seen them in my notifications before liking things, even in the last week and I honestly thought they followed me at one point lol. That's one of the reasons I was shocked to discover this. So the fact they would try to say they never heard of me or my story or seen my fics ever is looney tunes fr. Not to mention plug!choso is probably the fic people have recco'd the most from me. None of that is important to me though, so I don’t really care about anything but the facts that she took heavy inspo from me and is refusing to even acknowledge that it's pretty weird/odd/uncommon considering how similar they are. (sorry i would have taken screenshots of notifications but i barely got the chat before it disappears after two ppl block each other)

screenshots of our convo here:

As you can see, they apparently think i'm casper. they refuse to acknowledge they know me, or take it down, or give me credit and has me blocked now, so here we are.

Lastly... no one under any circumstances should be harassing or sending anyone hate! If you don’t like what they did, unfollow/block. If you don’t like what I am doing now or don’t agree, unfollow/block. I won't be offended if you do, if you don't like me , you don't like me. Please curate your own experiences.

Also, may choose to answer clarifying questions about this in public asks or comments but I reserve the right not to (even if you are in support of me). Honestly this is all so mentally draining and taking away from the things I actually want to do with my blog and I always feel really bad when I miss responding to comments people leave on my stories/works. So I will likely mute notifications on this. Like I could have been actually writing the many fics in my backlog last night or answering the very sweet or slutty asks in my inbox instead of writing this. I've always tried to keep my blog a pretty positive, goofy, unserious, slutty and drama-free place and I won't let this change that.

Additionally, no overly hateful/bashing comments towards me or @/rissouu will be answered/tolerated. If tumblr had an option to turn off comments on individual posts, I would for this one. I'm not going to waste time justifying something that is clear as day to me and many others. If anyone wants to play Stevie Wonder too, go for it! Nor do I want to waste energy bashing someone and beating a dead horse. I know what they did, they know what they did. @/rissouu wants to steal, lie and play games? Let them do it on their own, I guess. Clout is a helluva drug and I suppose my Plug!Choso was the best dealer for that but call me Desiree Perez cause imma snitch!

I'd prefer anyone really wanting to talk with me about this further and has something to say —good or bad, DM me.

—🎀 Kali

[whatislovevavy]

11. Strawberry Kisses & Lovers’ Reprieve 

Jake Seresin x OC (Caledonia Hughes)

WC: 11.4 k (God, I’m so sorry…but I’m really not)

Masterlist  Previous Part   Next Part

Warnings: swearing, smut (18+), oral ( f & m recieving), p in v, a touch of angst, Jake still needing to do some groveling, bits of fluff sprinkled throughout

AN: Thank you guys for your immense patience with this story. Hopefully the fact that it’s hella long makes up for the wait. I hope you guys like it. I put a lot of thought and effort into this one. Thank you @sebsxphia for the encouragement to write this story when it was in development, it means the world <3 

All of my writings will be added to my writing side blog @sophs-writing-nook 

These characters, except for Caledonia and Ella, are obviously not my own. This is an 18+ fanfic, so minors scoot pls. You are responsible for the media you consume. Do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate this fic without my explicit permission as it is my own creation. 

The soft glow of the morning sun softly stirred you from the depths of slumber that clung to your mind like cooling tar. It couldn’t have been that early, could it? Your toes sought to stretch out, but were hindered in their efforts, ensnared by a pair of taut, strong legs.  Eyes fluttering open, you were immediately met with soft, tan skin and pink, parted lips. 

Has he always looked so peaceful like this?

Your lip quirked, eyes tracing over each fine feature of his face. You almost felt like you were intruding, seeing something truly vulnerable and rare, like a doe tending to her fawn in a free meadow. His soft puffs of breath washed over the crisp white pillow case, his feather-light eyelashes brushing against the soft material as you silently admired him in the morning light. You snaked your arm from between your bodies, letting the back of your forefinger brush against the slight scruff of his exposed cheek, drifting to his temple, and softly brushing some of the stray blond strands of hair away from his forehead. Your teeth find their home in your bottom lip as you gently trace his cupid bow with the pad of your forefinger. A soft sigh passed his lips that almost had you jolting against his warm body that was intimately intertwined with your own, retracting your finger with a suppressed bright grin. 

It made you eternally grateful for saying yes to Jake in the frayed maroon booth of Francisco’s. You were so scared and unsure, like a newborn foal shakily coming to its feet. The memories of your arrangement came through your mind like a gale through a house on the coast.  

From how he started calling you Lass the first night you started working at Penny’s bar.  

When he kissed you for the first time.

Left his first love bite on your neck.

Unraveled you like no one ever had.

Held you oh so closely at the retirement gala and fiercely defended you at the turn of a dime. 

How he held you securely, yet delicately. 

Was so kind and understanding during your first time, and with every experience thereafter. 

How he never looked at you with pity.

The immense sense of safety you felt when around him. 

How much you loved him, and how much he loved you in return. 

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?” 

His sleep riddled tone broke your train of thought, eyes flashing to his still closed ones. You hummed, lips morphing into a smile. A content smile grew on his lips as you gently scratched your nails along his scalp, eyes still closed. “Just thinking,” you whisper. He peaked his eyes open, letting the sunlight pass through the verdant hue of his eyes. His eyebrows rose teasingly. “Hmm, about how much of an amazing lover I am?” You bit into your lip, shaking your head as a grin overcomes your features, a soft laugh coming through your plush lips that makes him grin. “No,” you teased, softly shoving his bare chest with your hand, a soft chuckle passing his lips, “just how much has changed for the both of us since that night at Francisco's.” He hummed, letting his hand settle at your waist, gently toying with the thin material of your cotton panties that made goosebumps blossom on your skin. 

“Only good things, I hope,” he whispered as he leaned in closer to your lips. 

“Only good things,” you affirmed, eyes darting from his eyes to his lips. 

His comforting smile met yours, gently nudging more and more into your personal space with an increasingly heated energy. He gently rolled you onto your back as he supported himself on his bent elbow, his finger gently running along the smooth skin of your collarbone. Softly, he separates, letting his forehead settle against your own and giving you that same charming smile that had you pouring him an extra few ounces at the bar top. 

“God, you drive me crazy, Caledonia.” 

Your breath hitched at the heavy sincerity of his tone that almost makes you clutch your thighs in need. And the way he said your name always, always, made you giddy. 

 “Aw, Jake, you just can’t get enough of me, huh?” You teased with a playful gleam in your eye. A perfect mix of playfulness and lust gliding through the waters of his irises. 

"I'm not entirely to blame for that," he whispered, leaning in closer to your face, his hand sneaking under the covers to run his thumb along your hip, "You're the one laying here in your tiny pair of panties makin’ it hard to think about much else." You snorted, rolling your eyes as his infectious chuckles met your ears. He brings his lips to your own, humming at your taste as your lips meld to his, languidly making out like two well-acquainted lovers. Moans slipping past your lips as his calloused hand gently slips between your hot skin and the thin layer of your undergarment, your thigh adjusting to grant him better access. Breath hitching against his lips as the tips of his fingers meet your clit. He smirks against your lips, starting to rub the pads of his fingers over your sensitive pearl of nerves. The soft whines he pulls from you stroke his steadily beating heart, encouraging him to continue his soft, tender ministrations as his lips trail down your neck to your bare breasts, gently pulling the sheets down below you. He smiles against your skin at the feeling of your nipples stiffening in the AC. Your hips bucking in anticipation against his hand. 

“Easy there, Lass.” You want to glare at him. The smug bastard. He wears his cat-got-the-cream grin as he takes your slowly stiffening peak into his mouth, softly nibbling and toying with the sensitive flesh. His tongue peaks out to tantalizingly flick at your taut nipples, almost making you taste blood with how hard you’re biting into your lip. Squirming as he softly bites down, making you cry out, almost missing him start to crawl down your body, and settle between your plush thighs. His eyes meet yours, that same playful gleam as he slides your panties down your thick thighs. Breath hitching as he leaves tender kisses along your ankle, to behind your knee to the inside of your thigh. He takes a deep breath, his cock throbbing at the sight of your bare cunt, gleaming in the morning sunlight, like morning dew on a petal. His gaze pinpoints on a single drop of your peach sweet essence that teases him as it rolls down your blush pink folds. His tongue peaks out to wet his lower lip. 

“Jake.”

His eyes flashed to yours, a wry grin curving his lips, “what is it, pretty girl? What do you need?” You huffed, thighs clenching around his shoulders in the volatile brew of lust and frustration. His smile grew tenfold.

“Need your mouth.” 

The taste of iron is almost present as your teeth imbed themselves into your lower lip.

He hummed, letting his hand run along the sensitive complexion of your inner thighs. His chest filling with pride at each shiver and flinch of your thighs against his feather soft caress. 

“You're missing something, beautiful.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in your lust hazed state. What the hell was he- oh. “Your such a fucking tease, you know that?” His eyebrows rose vexingly, waiting for you to rectify your statement that was borderline a command to keep your sanity in check. 

You licked your lips, “Please, J-Jake, I need your mouth on my pussy.”

His smirk grew into a devilish grin. 

“Good girl, Lass… can't have you forgetting your manners.”

Your breathing hitched, fingers twisting harder into his locks of hair making him groan. Any defiant answer died on your lips as he toyed with your clit using the tip of his tongue. His mischievous eyes locked on yours as he teasingly flicked at your clit, caressing it with his smooth muscle. His sinful smile grew across his face as his tongue worked its steadily overwhelming magic on you, each shot of electricity making your toes curl. 

“You're like m’own personal honey stash,” he chuckled, giving your flushed folds a broad lick, a deep chested groan of satisfaction meeting your ears. Eyes fluttering shut as his dextrous muscle met your plush bundle of nerves, the feeling like the return of spring after a barren winter. You can feel him rocking his hips into the mattress as he nibbled and sucked at the soaked lips of your cunt. It made your head spin thinking about how this man acted when it came to getting on his knees for you. 

“So fucking perfect, taste so damn good, sweetheart.” You shivered as he growled, his tongue running through your folds, lapping up everything you offered to him. You’re helpless, laying on your back cushioned by his soft sheets and pillows as he drinks from your flushed cunt. Your thighs try to squeeze around his head but his broad hand pins one of your thighs above your hip, his free hand placing your other thigh over his shoulder, leaving you completely at his mercy. No choice, but to let him softly feast on you. “Oh, yes,” you crooned, thighs shivering as his stubble scratched at the delicate complexion of your inner thigh, your fingers threading tighter into his locks of hair making a sly grin overtake his features and eyes glint with mischief. The obscene slurps and groans from between your thighs made your cheeks heat, his hands almost trying to physically conjoin to your hips and pinned thigh. It wouldn't surprise you if you found marks in perfect resemblance to his broad hands on your thighs from his ministrations. 

“Yes, yes, I missed your mouth so much,” you moaned out with a whimper. His eyes fluttering shut as your nails pierce into his scalp, weaving into his gilded tufts of hair. The tantalizing touch of the blunt-edged, ruby red nails digging into his scalp paired with the sweet, intoxicating taste that dribbled from your cunt made his spine tingle between his hips. He could definitely get used to lazy mornings like this with you, savoring and worshiping your body the way it deserved- the way it always deserved. He let his lips leave your cunt, your soft whines marking his exit. Softly, he lathed kisses on the inside of your thighs, sucking and nibbling at the tender flesh. Your mewls of pleasure and increasing neediness made the marks he left on you that much sweeter. Beautiful blotches of magenta, lavender and deep blue litter your thighs and thick hips. 

He gently teased two of his thick fingers at the ingress of your cunt, letting them run through your folds and soak up the sweet nectar you always gave him an abundance of. You tugged at his hair, “Jake, please.” He chuckled against your thighs, littering one last blotch of color to his favorite canvas. 

“Shh, princess, I’m just takin’ my time, no need to get hasty.” 

You pouted, making him chuckle, and that saccharine grin that always made your stomach flip to grace his features. Your breath hitched as he pushed his fingers in, letting your walls embrace his welcomed digits. He whistled, “jus’ like a hot knife through butter, baby.” A fresh wave of heat courses through you at his drawl, the vice of your cunt tightening around his fingers, much to his delight. He gently brought his tongue back to your sopping cunt that gushed beautifully for him. Thrusting into your soft, welcoming embrace, his tongue danced along your clit. Toying with your sanity with each playful suck and nibble of your sensitive gem. Your hitched breaths and mewls filled his bedroom as every cohesive thought left your head. He felt your hands move frantically between grasping the back of his head and the pillow beneath your own.

"Oh, Jake." 

He swore he would never get used to the wanton, sultry, desperate tone your voice took in this state. A high pitched whine left your throat as your thighs shook against his iron hold. 

His fingers continuing their steady rhythm into your dripping cunt, against that sweet, delicious, little spot that had your mind hazy and incoherent syllables leaving your perfect lips. Your eyes clenched shut, silent screams, and broken cries leave your lips as he pulls your release from you. Playing your body and mind with the ease of a professional violinist in concert. 

His lips lathed open-mouthed kisses along the insides of your plush thighs, gleaming eyes dancing to your teary ones as he diligently watched you return back to your body. His fingers moving at the same soft pace, relishing in your walls fluttering around his thick digits like the butterflies he got in his stomach whenever you smiled at him. 

He knew you could handle another one; it was all part of making up for lost time. He softly brought his hand up, gliding it along your skin, to settle at your breast; fondling, squeezing, and pinching at your taut nipple, smirking at the noises he brought past your lips. 

"Such a good girl…missed taking care of you like this," His thick, sleep graveled drawl made your walls clench around his fingers. You hummed, a soft whine passing your throat. 

He grinned from his spot between your legs, "you missed that too, Lass? Missed when I took care of my pretty, little pussy? Stuffed you full with m’ fingers." You feverishly nodded, a whine passing your lips. His lips quickly advancing back to your swollen folds, languidly toying with your already sensitive clit. 

A hiss leaves your throat at a particularly harsh suck, clit throbbing between his soft lips. If there was one thing you’d learned from your time with Jake, he loved, no, craved, being the best. He needed there to be no doubt in your mind that he was the best candidate for taking care of you; whether that was eating you out or fucking you into the mattress. And if that meant he made you lose your mind at the hand of his sinful tongue and intoxicating cock, then that was the sacrifice he was willing to make. 

"Fuck, baby." Your sweet gasp made his cock throb against his sheets. Eyes clenched shut, your nails dug into his hand and the back of his head. He moved his fingers more diligently, feeling your pretty noises and the constriction of your walls increase so. A sharp cry left your lips as he gave a delicious suck to your clit. 

You’re far too sensitive, his mouth too much. 

Chest heaving as you summoned any strength you had to push his head away, your release following suit with a shriek. He shuddered at the gush of liquid downing his chin and neck, immediately forcing his way back to your dripping cunt, your hands clawing at his head and the back of his neck as he claimed your cunt again, latching back onto your poor, abused clit, letting it leave his mouth with a lecherous pop, feeling a few spurts leave your pussy as your whines of pleasure met his ears. 

"Such a perfect girl, squirtin' all over me," his tone a mix between a growl and pure awe. Your thighs shook at the overwhelming feeling of his savory timbre. If all of your brain cells hadn't been fried, you might have been embarrassed. He thrusted his fingers more diligently, keeping his gaze on you.

"Come on, beautiful, I know you have at least one more for me," he purred, giving you that same panty dropper grin that made you blush at the bar top as his fingers stroked that sweet spot inside you, a string of your arousal linking his lips to your cunt, shining in the light through his curtains. Your liquid lust makes his chest and shoulders glimmer with the light peeking between the shades. You feverishly nodded, letting out a pathetic, little whimper. He wracked your lower body with the strength of his entire arm, making you mewl and cry out. Nails digging into his taut forearm, his veins bulging with exertion. You could feel your core tighten, and as he removed his fingers, your release coated his bare chest and bed sheets. 

"Such a good job, Caledonia, such a good girl squirtin' around my fingers." He goaded with pride, his breathing heavy as he rubbed his open palm over your flushed folds and engorged clit. Shocks of intense pleasure racked your brain, sharp gasps leaving your lips, your hands shooting to keep his hand still. 

He smirked, a small chuckle passing his lips as he settled on softly rolling your tender clit between his forefinger and thumb. Your mind tried to grasp any semblance of normal brain function, but with Jake touching you oh so sinfully, it was fruitless. Your chest swelled and fell as soft sparks of pleasure shot up your body as your hands softly clutched at his own. He lathed soft, open-mouthed kisses along your plush inner thighs as you slowly came down from your high, your breathing heavy still.  

Shakily, you sit up and reach out to him, bringing your lips to his, passionately savoring the heavenly combination of your taste and his natural one as your tongues meld together like metal; melting and emulsifying into a perfect alloy. He chuckled as he felt your nails tangle into his hair. Gently crawling over him, you pushed him down onto his back as you kept your lips on his with a soft thump against his sheets. A mischievous smile breaks out as you see his eyes gleam, his breath hitching at the change in position. His hard length twitched against the flesh of your ass, an immense sense of pride filling you.  

You had this effect on him. No one else.

You.

Your soft breaths met his ears as you ran your palms over his toned chest, down to his chiseled abs, tantalizingly scratching your nails along his flesh, goosebumps following in their wake, head still spinning from the intense high that wracked your brain. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he watched you scoot further down to settle over his knees, his cock thick and hard, standing at attention for you. Watching as he bites his lip, his pupils fully dilated, hiding that lovely shade of green, his chest heaves as he waits with anticipation. His breath hitches as you grasp his hot, throbbing cock with the perfect amount of pressure. You spit on his dick, demanding the attention of the man below you, letting the viscous fluid dribble down from your pink lips to his sensitive tip. He twitched in your hand, making you grasp him tighter, shooting him a flirtatious smile that makes his stomach flip. His eyes clenched shut, his tongue wetting his lower lip in anticipation. 

“Cal-sweetheart.”

You smirked, grasping his cock harder in your silken palm. 

“I think you're forgetting something.”

He turned his chin down to get a better look at you and the bratty look in your eye. 

His Adam's apple bobbed and cock twitched in your hand. Your grin widened at the sight, posture straightening at the further change in power, a special gleam in your eye he didn't see often. His broad hands knead at your thick hips and thighs. 

“Cal-.” 

“Come on handsome, I'm not the only one that needs to have manners.” You said wantonly as you gave his engorged length a squeeze, one of your manicured nails drawing hearts on his Adonis belt and abdominal muscles as you waited patiently. His muscles softly twitching under your tantalizing touch. 

He bit his lip, a scoff bubbling from his throat making your grin widen. “Such a fuckin’ minx,” he growled. A teasing chuckle leaves your lips as you lean down to place a feather soft kiss to his swollen tip, making him sigh and eyes flutter shut. A gentle squeeze to his balls has his words leaving before he can think. 

“Fuck, cal-, please.”

You grinned, clearly pleased with yourself  as you lean down, letting your tongue run up the length of him. "Fuck, sweetheart," he croaked, eyes fluttering shut. You look so perfect like this, he thought. "Missed your pretty mouth so much," he groaned, rambling as his eyes clenched shut as you playfully sucked at his red, inflamed tip. Your heart and walls fluttered at his words. "Mhm, I missed sucking your thick cock," you purred, pumping his length. His stomach jumping at your confident, lustful tone. You were getting more and more confident with each perfect, tantalizing moment with you. 

Especially with that little please stunt. 

And he loved every second of it. 

He had a feeling you would outmatch him one day, and he needed to be the one to experience it. He’s completely entranced by your molten lapis lazuli gaze as you sucked a love bite on the underside of his throbbing dick. His eyes clenched shut with a hiss, your perfect, soft hands squeezing his balls as you continued your sinful acts. "Fuck, your mouth is perfect-so fuckin' good, Caledonia," he growled, his hips bucking into your hand. Each squeeze of your hand and impure suck to his tip had the thread of his soul reeling loose from its spindle. Every coherent thought seemed to dissipate as you soaked his cock with your perfect mouth. You held his length, giving him a sultry smile as you pushed your copper locks over your shoulder to the other side. His hand quickly intertwined with your soft, wavy hair, letting his fingers card through the strands. The way your hair glowed in the morning light and how your perfect, pink lips wrapped around his saliva soaked cock made his core tighten and heart flutter. He sighed as you gripped his hips, nails digging into his adonis belt as you brought your mouth down over his swollen dick, savoring each ridge and crevice of his fat cock with your tongue. 

"Shit! So fuckin' good, baby." 

If you didn't know any better, it almost sounded like the cocky, self-assured Hangman was pleading for you. You let him leave your mouth with a pop, "does that feel nice, handsome? Feeling me suck your dick like a goddamn bomb pop?" He feverishly nodded, willing to let you do whatever you want to him. 

"God, I love how thick you are, feel so good in my mouth and balls deep in my pussy," you moaned out, eyes full of intense flames of lust as you stroked him with a steady rhythm.

Fuck, where did you learn to talk like that?

He realized how stupid of a question that was. 

His chest heaves, his breathing shaky as low moans passed his lips as you quite literally sucked his life source from his throbbing cock. His eyes clenched shut as his load is about to burst, hips bucking into your mouth. "Oh, fuck, sweets, keep doing that, such a good girl." He choked out, his eyes rolling back as you gave him a sinful, perfect suck to his tip. You squeezed his hips harder as they became wracked with tremors, feeling his hand desperately reach the back of your head, fingers intertwining with the soft strands. “Holy shit, Caledonia.” He gritted his teeth as he groaned, his back arching as his release hit the back of your throat in thick ropes, almost startling you as his hand kept your head in place. His slightly salty taste eased you as you continued to lathe your tongue around his dick, collecting any last remnant of his release. Jake's breathing evened out as he recovered, opening his eyes to you placing a sweet, oh so tender kiss to his tip.

 It would almost make him smile if it didn't make his dick twitch. 

You licked your lips, letting your gaze meet his blissed out one, giggling at the sight of his bed hair, and soft, rosy cheeks. His breath hitched as you licked the last of his essence from your fingers. Crawling back up and over him, you gently placed a kiss on his lips. The taste of himself on your lips making his core ache in reinvigorated need. 

"How was that?" You bit your lip, smiling with awaiting eyes. He takes a deep breath, licking his lips as he takes in the mix of your tastes, his lip lifting into a smile, making you giggle. His fingers digging into your plush hips, bringing you closer.  His hand travels up to the base of your neck, bringing your lips down to his. Your soft sighs against his lips has his libido rising by the second. 

In one quick motion, you’re below him, letting out a squeal of delight that morphed into a titter. His grip on your hips tighten as he towers above your sprawled out form. He stands on his haunches, spreading your legs with his broad hands. A low whistle meeting your ears, “God, I need to be inside you,” your clit tingled at the prospect, “You want me inside you, sweetheart?” You pathetically nodded. His eyes tracing your fingertips as they traverse the curves of your plush body that lead to the sensitive little pearl at the apex of your thighs, your soft fingertips gingerly rubbing at your clit. 

“Please Jake, I need it so bad.” 

A deep groan resonated in his chest as he manhandled your knees to hook over his shoulders, pressing onto you.

"Jake." 

“Shh, baby, I'm gonna take care of you.” He murmured, fighting off the deep rooted urge to slide all in at once and fuck you till the headboard breaks. He gave you that same salacious smile you love. Running your fingernails down his torso, you nodded. His lips parting as he notches his tip at your entrance. He leans down, keeping his gorgeous evergreen gaze on you. A pitiful whimper leaves your lips as the bulbous head enters you, already stretching you. His hands quickly intertwine with your own, placing them by your head, nose nudging yours.

"Shh, it's ok, Lass, taking me so well, just breathe." You nodded, eyes glassy as you focused your gaze on him as he continued to enter you inch by inch. He can’t help but feel the warmth in his heart with each pinch of your brow and soft mewls that passed your lips as he split you open. 

You’re absolutely perfect. 

And you’re all his.

He smiled so softly and tenderly at you. "I love you so much, you have no idea how much I missed you," he whispered. 

Your eyes starting to tear up, voice thick, "I love you too, Jake." 

He leaned down, passionately, desperately kissing you like you’re the only keeper of his sanity. "I'm not going anywhere," you whimpered out against his lips, his forehead resting against your own as he gently rolled his hips into your own, fully sheathing himself into the welcoming embrace of your cunt. His rhythm has moans pouring from your lips and his bed frame rhythmically banging into the wall. Your breathing intermingles, gazes staring into one another. The focus solely on the feeling of Jake on you, holding your hands so tenderly yet firmly, and the way he throbs gently inside you with each thrust. He savors the velvet feeling of your walls around him, and the twitch of your knees against his shoulders. 

Each moan and whimper spurring him on with each soft thrust, rubbing that sweet spot inside you that had you clutching onto his shoulders for dear life. 

"Jake," 

He nipped at your neck, putting his entire lower body weight into his thrusts, making you gasp and cry out as he ransacked that special spot that made you see stars. Your lips muffled his groans as he continued to thrust into your perfect cunt that he would swear under oath was made for him. 

"God, you feel so fucking good, Jake!" His growls and groans are a reply enough to your broken moans and gasps of breath. 

You both are consumed only in each other, not the headboard banging into the wall or the possibility of Javy hearing your escapades- just the perfect mix of you and him. He lifted your hips letting him thrust with all his strength into your welcoming cunt, your walls begging him to never leave. 

"Such a good fucking girl, wanna spend every mornin’ like this… God, such a perfect, tight, little pussy," you gasped and cried out as he punctuated each graveled word with a deep, perfect thrust. "You love it when I fuck you like this, don't you?" You nodded feverishly, tears welling in your eyes. 

"You just feel so good, please don't stop," you choked out, the dull edges of your nails digging into his hands that encased yours. He grinned at you, placing a soft kiss to your plush lips, feeling pride swell in his chest.  “Love seeing you get all teary eyed taking my dick,” he cooed. You moaned as he set a brutal rhythm, making you see entire galaxies behind your clenched shut eyes. Shuddered gasps left your throat as he leaned down to mouth at your tits, sucking at your peaks, and releasing them with gentle pops. 

"Baby, look at me," he purred, his voice strained from his excursions. Your dazed gaze met his, your vision hazy from your impending orgasm. But even then, you could still make out the thin halo of green that surrounded a sea of black. 

“So fucking pretty, baby.” The sight of his lust dilated eyes and the constant assault on the soft spot inside you has your sanity unraveling, your high rushing over you with broken gasps, chest heaving up into his. 

“Jesus Christ, so fuckin’ tight.” He groaned with that sinful graveled tone into your ear as you mewled and shook as your high consumed you. 

His eyes clenched shut as your walls choked his cock, making his release hit him like a bullet, groaning into your neck as his release painted your soft velvet walls. 

You relished in the feeling of his weight on your body, softly running your fingers through his hair as his cock gently twitched in your molten cunt. Heaving breaths and the soft smell of sex filled the room as the AC hummed lowly. He gently lifted his face to meet yours, a sweet, dazed smile painting his lips, sweat beading at his hairline. You bit your lip, “good morning.” His relaxed smile morphed into a grin, “mornin', my beautiful girl.” Your grin matched his as you gently pulled him into a sweet kiss, letting your nails gingerly scratch at the base of his neck. He softly whined in protest as you pulled your lips away for air. “I have to breathe, Jacob,” you teased, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Your warm gaze met his own, a soft smile on your lips that made your dimples pop. His eyes glazed over, tracing over each wisp of color in your sapphire eyes and the rouge dusting your cheeks. How did I get so lucky? 

“What’re you looking at me like that for?” You whispered softly.

His lip quirked, “jus’ thinking about you,”

Your blush deepened, biting your lip to hide your grin, “only good things, I hope.”

“Only good things.” He repeated with a gentle smile. 

You lightly pulled his lips back to yours, lips languidly melding with his. Savoring the taste of you on his lips that he never wanted to forget. 

—

Jake’s breathing evened out as you traced the edge of your nail on his pec, gently scratching at the sparse chest hair. Your head nestled into the crook of his neck, eyes tracing over the freckles sparsely peppering his bare skin, following the tip of your finger. His fingers mindlessly toy with your wavy locks, watching the soft strands curl around his finger and the glow of that lovely copper hue in the morning light. He felt like he needed to pinch himself, just to make sure this was all real. He refrained; pinching himself may cause all of this to go away. You listened to his steady breathing, softly letting your eyes flutter shut. 

“We should get cleaned up and something to eat,” you whispered against his chest. He hummed, still coming down from his high. You giggled, sitting up before rising off of the bed. Softly stretching in the morning light, bare to the world, walking towards his bathroom on shaky legs that had his chest filling with pride. Turning towards him, you leaned against the doorframe, “you coming, cowboy?” His mouth felt dry, eyes glued to your full body that was fully exposed for him to admire in the soft, golden morning light. Your eyes caught on. A playful smile tugged at your lips as you watched his eyes travel from your eyes down to the rest of your body. The gaze of others had always planted a pit of insecurity in your stomach that caused your heart to quiver. But being with Jake, he eased your insecurities. Softly and slowly, he eased you to expose yourself to him. But even in these moments there were small pockets of self-consciousness that broke through the protective layer that Jake helped to cultivate. 

Soon enough he'll realize that your body type isn't what he wants.

This is all a ruse and he didn't mean it when he said he loved you. 

He'll get sick of your body at some point. 

You felt your lips threaten to tug into a frown, his gaze feeling more scrutinizing as he held his gaze on your body. In all the time you had known him, Jake had never been a quiet man. Maybe he didn't like how your thighs were so thick. 

Or the soft flesh of your tummy. 

Or how your breasts weren't as perky as with the other girls he’d been with. 

He nodded, a beat of silence passing, “that sounds perfect.” There was no air of cockiness in his tone, only the heavy sincerity of his whispered words. He rose out of bed, sauntering towards you. You tried to keep your gaze on him instead of the way his cock was starting to harden again and animatedly bob with each stride. He took your hand in his, anxiety easing as he brought your hand to his lips, eyes full of love before silently leading you with him into the bathroom. 

—

“Jake, stop, that tickles,” you protested teasingly as you manned the stove top, flipping the eggs and bacon in the skillet as the toast finished with a ding. His chin lifted from its place at your neck with a groan, halting the teasing rubs of his freshly shaven cheek against the column of your neck. His hands playfully squeezed your hips as he stepped away to collect the toast. 

“So, sweets, do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” He placed the plate with the warm toast on the counter across from you, letting the edge press into his bare lower back as he buttered the pieces of toast. Shutting the burner off with a click, you grabbed both of the filled plates before joining him at the countertop. You could feel his eyes settled on where his shirt barely covered the curve of your panty-clad ass. The attention made your cheeks heat. Granted, you should have been used to it by now, but it was so hard to adjust when every time he looked at you, your entire body heated up like a fireplace. And his bare chest on display certainly didn’t help. Or the fact you could trace out the bulging veins in his forearms. 

“Um,” you cleared your throat, “I have a shift at Penny’s later tonight, but besides that I’m free.” He turned to lean on his elbow against the counter to face you while he held his plate, eagerly digging into his breakfast. You leaned forward against the counter, foraging at the strawberries Jake had cut up earlier. He smiled around his piece of toast, “glad to hear it, I was hoping for a few more hours with you.” He teased, pinching under the curve of your ass as your blush bloomed on your cheeks. You swatted at him, his chuckles meeting your ears. He placed his plate down, moving to embrace his arms around you, the small droplets of water from the shower falling onto your neck and shirt. You yelped as his broad hands grasped the underside of your thighs, placing you onto the edge of the countertop, out of the way of your plates of food. Your chuckles died down as your gaze met Jake’s playful one. His thumbs rubbed small circles on your hips as he stepped between your spread thighs. The back of his finger gently caressed your cheek. Your teeth digging into your bottom lip, hands gently rubbing at where his broad shoulders met his neck, fingers occasionally toying with the chain of his dog tags. Your eyes traced over the fine features of his face, fingers cradling the back of his head, leaning down to kiss his passion-swollen lips. 

Groaning against your lips, he pulled away. 

“I meant what I said last night and this morning…about being in love with you. I don't want you to feel that it was just in the heat of the moment for me.” He softly whispered, as if it were a secret from the rest of the world. Your eyebrows rose a little, your heart warming. “I know Jake. It wasn't a heat of the moment deal for me either. I love you too. Just promise me something.” 

“Anything.” He reassured.

“I know relationships are a complicated thing for you,” you diverted your gaze to your fingers playing with the pebbled chain of his dog tags, “but if you get scared or anxious, please don't pull away and make a rash decision. Be open with me. Talk to me.”

His warm eyes melted more if that was possible. 

He nodded, murmuring “I will, promise.” His nose touches yours before he places a sweet kiss to your lips. He hummed at the taste of strawberries on your lips.

“Glad to see you guys made up.” 

Javy’s voice made you jolt against Jake, trying to discreetly reach to slide Jake's shirt under your ass, much to Javy's amusement and Jake's disgruntlement. 

Javy made his way to the coffee maker with an amused expression on his face as he poured himself a cup of coffee. You could feel Jake's hands tighten on your waist. 

“Coyote, I thought you were at Delilah’s.” Javy smirked around the rim of his mug at Jake's tone. He leaned against the opposite counter, an amused expression on his face as he took in his much more kept together appearance; shaved cheeks, diminished bags under his eyes. 

“Good morning to you, too. I got back late last night after dropping her off for her red eye for her business trip.” Javy grinned, diverting his gaze to you. “Hey, Caledonia.” 

“Hey, C-Coyote” you stammered, cheeks flushed.

“You know, we were kind of having a moment. Alone.” Jake bit back, attitude rolling off of his tongue, as he tried hiding your body with his. That only made Javy smile all the more. 

“Sorry, I must have missed the part where this was your kitchen.” He placed his mug in the sink. “But really, I'm happy for you both. He was much more tolerable when you both were messing around.” Jake continued to glare at him, his grip on you getting more and more possessive the more your cheeks heated. “Oh, and if you guys decide to utilize the counter, use the Lysol afterwards.” Javy winked at Jake, giving him a pat on his bare shoulder and stealing a strawberry as he passed, heading towards the front door, closing it with a click. As soon as the door closed, you giggled into Jake's chest, a mix of amusement and mortification filling your chest. 

“God, I'm gonna kill him.” 

Your laughter brought his gaze down to you. 

“He's just being supportive.”

“Yeah, well, I wish he wouldn't look at you while he's being so supportive.” Jake huffed.

“Jake…”

“What? I don’t like him looking at what’s mine, especially when you’re looking like a wet dream out of a Playboy Magazine.”

Your smile grew with the shivers that ran along your spine at his tone. 

“I wouldn’t say that-” Your eyes diverted from him to focus on the tiled floor. Your hair was still messy from your roll in the sheets and shower, and your eyes still felt sticky with sleep. 

He gently lifted your chin to meet his gaze. 

“I would. Every time.”

You swallowed at his tone that dripped with loving sincerity. He grinned, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before quickly reaching your lips with a deep hum. 

If you had a mirror, you’d assume your face was the color of fully-bloomed roses.

His tongue traced the seam of your lips, lewdly persuading entrance to tangle with your own. You moaned against his mouth as he gently laid you back against the cold countertop, his mouth trailing down your neck, gently teasing your pert nipples through the cotton of his Navy shirt with his expert tongue. 

“Jake-”

He hummed, “What is it, pretty girl? Tell me what you want.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers tugged down your panties to the cold tile floor with a soft thump. His hands pushed your shirt up over your head to expose your lush breasts to his warm touch, flinging the piece of cotton onto the couch.

“We don’t know when Javy’s getting back.” Your hands coming up to cover your bare chest.

His eyebrows furrowed in amusement, a gentle smirk on his lips.

“Javy always does his errands on Saturday mornings. He’ll be gone for a good few hours.” 

You swallowed, biting at the inside of your cheek. 

“Plus, he was right about one thing.” 

Your eyebrows scrunched together, his nose trailing along your neck as his lips reached the shell of your ear. His hands gently move to replace yours on your breasts. 

“The counter would be smart to utilize while he’s gone.” He nipped at your earlobe, relishing in the soft moan and shudder than accentuated his improper words and actions. His eyes rose to meet yours as his broad hands pushed down on the counter to show its sturdiness with a smirk. 

“We’ve barely touched our breakfast, and-” you words paused on your lips as his hands squeezed at your hips and thighs, nudging them further apart, “don’t you get tired of being this horny?”

Deep chested grumbles of laughter bubbled up as he brought his lips to yours. 

“You just have that effect on me, sweetheart, and I have a lot of time to make up for.” He teased with a grin, gently running the pad of his forefinger through your already soaked folds. 

“And it feels like to me, you don’t seem to mind.” He husked. 

Your chest heaved with a shortness of breath you didn’t know you had. You pulled his lips to yours, moaning against his now strawberry sweet lips. A sharp whine leaving your own as he eased two of his thick fingers into your molten, awaiting cunt. 

“Easy there, Lass, I’ll take care of you.” His saccharine grin made you realize you would be on this counter for as long as time would allow. 

—

“So I noticed your car was parked here this morning.”

Penny’s amused tone made you almost drop the clean glass in your hand.

“Yeah,” you awkwardly chuckled, “I stayed the night with a friend.” You gave her a tight lipped smile. Penny’s eyebrows furrowed, but she didn’t press. Her typical kind smile passed her lips, “Well I’m glad to see you got over Hangman. You’re too good for him, and he’s still not welcome here.” You swallowed as her eyes grew ever sharper with each word. 

“Yeah,” you fiddled with the towel and the glass in your hand, “well, actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.” You bit your lip as her face grew concerned. Your eyes darted around the empty bar, hoping to find something to take the edge off of the conversation. Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes focus back on her.

“Hang-,” you cleared your throat, “Jake came by here last night.” Penny’s posture straightened as her eyebrows furrowed. 

Your eyes grew wide in panic, “But it’s ok! He came by to apologize to me.” The sharpness in Penny’s gaze dulled as your tone and words registered. “And, I spent the night with him.” You breathed out. “He told me he loves me.”

Penny’s gaze was trying to fight for any semblance of sharpness. She’d known Hangman for years before you came along. Seen all the hookups that transpired in her bar because of his charm, and the inevitable wreckage afterwards. And not once did he have the decency to apologize for breaking a poor girl’s heart. Much less tell them he loved them and make up with them. 

“Even after we… did things.”

You frankly didn’t know what compelled you to share that detail. Maybe it was because Penny had become a maternal figure to you during your time at grad school and you could be vulnerable with her about this. She would probably know more than most, given her history with Maverick. You bit your lip, hoping and praying that Penny wouldn’t tear Jake to shreds if he stepped foot into the Hard Deck. Penny had had her fair share of relationships and only one of them resulted in her being told she was loved after sex- Maverick. Penny’s eyes reverted to the same trademark warmth she always looked at you with, a small smile on her face. “I’m glad you and Hangman made up, but if he hurts you… promise me you’ll tell me. Ok?”

You nodded, ”Does this mean Jake is ok to come back to the Hard Deck?”

She breathed through her teeth, before chuckling, “I think you’ll need to clear the air with Phoenix first. My jurisdiction only goes so far. If she sees him here, she’ll do a lot worse than punch him in the nose.”

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Did Nat punch him in the nose?”

—

“Well, you’re looking better.”

You quickly turned at the sound of Phoenix’s encouraging tone. Her eyes tracing over your lush, wavy hair and your scintillating blood moon manicured nails that made your eyes pop. 

“And it looks like it in more ways than one too.” She smirked, eyes tracing over the poorly concealed hickey.

Your blush spread like waves over a shoreline, bringing your hand up to hide the mark with a nervous smile.

“Yeah, I’m feeling better since last night.”

You swallowed as your eyes darted to see Bob settle against Phoenix at the bar top. Giving Bob a smile, you placed a cup of peanuts from under the bartop in front of him. 

Phoenix smiled at the gesture. 

“So did you end up going out with Halo’s friend from the gym?” Bob asked before scooping some peanuts into his mouth.

You always admired how perceptive Bob was. He could piece together a conversation like the snap of his finger. 

“N-no, I didn’t.” You bit at your lip. 

I really hope they don’t kill me for this, you thought. 

“Well,” Phoenix urged on, “was it somebody who came in last night?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, nervously puffing out laughter.

“You could say that.”

Her eyes lit up, “Ok, so who’s the lucky guy… or girl?” she teased.

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. 

Phoenix had been encouraging you to explore your sexuality since the whole situation with Hangman went down the drain. Well, before Jake pulled it out of said drain less than 24 hours ago. 

You bit your lip, “Um.” You swallowed.

Phoenix’s eyebrows furrowed and Bob watched on with piqued interest.

“Jake came by last night.” 

You internally winced as both of their smiles fully faded.

“Cali…” Phoenix’s voice was laced with frustration and pity, the latter burning the most. 

“I know it sounds bad, but-”

“How could you take him back?” Phoenix’s voice rattled your heart. Bob stood by silently. But his face spoke the words just said. 

You took a breath, swallowing “he came by to apologize.”

Her gaze softened. But only slightly so. 

You still slept with him, again, She thought. 

But then again, Hangman didn’t apologize. Ever. 

“And, he told me he’s in love with me.”  

And he most definitely didn’t tell hookups he loved them. Much less in love with them. In fact, in time Phoenix knew him, Jake never had anything serious with anyone. Not even a date.

Phoenix and Bob exchanged looks.

“And that he can’t let me go again.” You finished, watching them apprehensively as you toyed with your nails. 

“I just don’t want you to punch him again.” You softly state.

Phoenix took a breath, before scoffing.

“It doesn’t excuse him from what he did-”

“I know that-”

“But, nothing. You’re too good for him, and how can you trust he won’t hurt you again?”

You swallowed, trying to stave off tears.

Bob winced at her words. Phoenix was right to be concerned. Angry, even.

But he saw how Jake had changed since spending time with you, and how he was when you ended your arrangement. That had to mean something more than what words alone could reveal. There was even a running joke regarding how much time Hangman spent with Caledonia, even just helping her at the Hard Deck. 

“Nat,” Bob interrupted. 

She turned to him, eyes still bright with fire. “You’ve seen how he’s been lately and how he was before.” Her jaw tensed. Of course Bob had a point. He always had a point. 

A thick silence settled over your corner of the bar top as regulars started to trickle in.

“I can’t explain how I know, but I just know that he means it.” You turn your gaze from Bob to Natasha, making your stance clear.

She sighed, “look, I just want you to be safe and happy, and if you truly believe he can be that for you… then he’s in serious trouble if he hurts you again.”

You embrace Nat in a hug that has her a bit startled. Sniffling, “I will. Thank you.”

You pull away, wiping away the last remnant of your tears with your apron. 

“Promise me you’ll take it easy on him on base? Well, easier?” Your borderline plea made  Natasha purse her lips before breathing out of her nose.

“Yeah, I’ll do my best. But if he starts something, I have my right to respond with a full arsenal.” 

Your lip tipped up into a grin. 

“I hope you know that you’re the only person I would ever do this for. You know that right?” 

You nodded, cheeks aching from your grin.  A regular had called you over, excusing yourself from your friends. Phoenix and Bob watched on as you served drinks. 

“Hangman better watch out if something happens to her. He doesn’t know what he’s got in a girl like her.” She huffed, snagging a peanut from his cup.

“I think he does now.” Bob’s quiet comment stops her mid chew.

His gaze still on you across the bar before turning to her. 

She huffed again. She had a scintilla of belief that Bob was right. 

—

Your shift passed you like a blur, lost in the fluid routine of serving drinks and orders. The comfort of familiarity flooding your fingertips and eased your senses. The laughter of your friends around the pool tables and Penny’s words of encouragement as things got busier as the night went on made you feel at home again.

“Here’s a whiskey neat for you.” You smiled, turning back to where the beer taps were, grabbing more glasses from underneath the polished wood. 

“Excuse me, Darlin’.”

Your eyes darted up to a voice that had excitement thrumming through you, your grin barely contained. Evergreen eyes greeted you, “a whiskey neat on my tab please.” His bright grin soon matched yours.

“What are you doing here?” you asked warmly as you made his drink.

“Penny texted me saying I could come back to the Hard Deck.” His lip quirking, “On the condition that I help you close up after your shifts for the foreseeable future.” He chuckled, letting his lips tilt into a smile, “and I wanted to see you.” 

He leaned in closer to you, his eyes tracing your full lips up to your eyes that held so much warmth. “She did mention that I needed to worry about Phoenix, though.”

You snorted. “I think you’ll be ok, just stay here at the bar top with me. I’ll protect you.” Your playful wink made his chest rumble with laughter. 

Jake stayed at his spot at the bartop, even when you slipped away to serve drinks. The more you were gone, the more exposed he felt, and the more he felt his confident facade was weakening. He could still feel a bounty on his head, hence the lack of appeal the pool tables held for him tonight. He took sips of his drink, keeping his gaze on you.

“You have a lot of nerve showing your face here.” He almost flinched at the familiar baritone. He turned, met with a questionable choice of Hawaiian shirt and a mustache he could barely stand. 

“But given how miserable you were, it’s not entirely a surprise you came crawling back to her. And by the looks of it, she took you back.” He stated more flatly. 

“Hey, Rooster, can I grab you something?” you asked sweetly, eyes darting from Jake’s to the aviator in front of you.

“Yeah, Rooster, what do you want? It’s on me.” Bradshaw’s eyebrows shot up as Jake laid down his card on the glossy surface. Bradshaw eyed him suspiciously before diverting his gaze to you. “One Blue Moon, please, thanks.”

You smiled at Jake, taking his card. 

As you turned away to grab his glass, Bradshaw was back to facing the last man he thought he’d see tonight.

Jake took a sip of his drink, rocking the glass in his hand. “For what it’s worth, I’m trying to make it right.” Bradshaw couldn’t find a sliver of anything to indicate Jake had ill intent, making his eyebrows furrow for a split second. 

“Here’s your beer, enjoy.” You smiled at Bradley.

“Here’s your card, baby.” You leaned in giving Jake a kiss, sliding the card over the bartop to him. Bradshaw had only seen Hangman blush when he was relentlessly teased in the break room and locker room. It was…different, to see Jake blush when the reason for it was right in front of him. As soon as you were there, you were whisked away to serve another customer. Bradshaw’s gaze followed you before turning to Jake, seeing the smile on his face. Not a cocky, confident smile, but a genuine one that was getting less and less rare with you around.

“I don’t know what she sees in you, but you better not fuck up again.” Bradshaw’s tone didn’t hold the same bite it had before. His hand gave an attempt of a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning to leave. Some semblance of an olive branch being passed to him.

“I won’t.” Jake said just before Bradshaw left ear shot, saying it more to himself than anyone. 

   As your shift progressed members of the team came and passed, relations settling at the sight of you and Jake at the bar top when you weren’t being pulled away to serve customers. Soon the end of your shift had arrived and your friends waved goodbye and some even acknowledged Jake as they left. Phoenix’s gaze towards him as she waved goodbye wasn’t as sharp as it had been the past few weeks. The last chair was stacked above the tables and soon you were dragging Jake out of the Hard Deck with you after bidding Penny a goodnight. Penny’s watchful yet warm gaze settled on you both as Jake held the door for you to go outside, and followed you till your cars left the parking lot, heading in the same direction. 

—

"Well, who is this little miss?" Jake crouched down in the hallway and let your new addition to the Benjamin's home softly sniff at his hand and rub her head against his leg.  

"Oh, um, that's Chanel. I got her a few weeks ago,” you replied.  

"Chanel," Jake tried out, "that's a very pretty name for a very pretty girl," he cooed as she let him scratch under her chin and purred. You smiled at the sight, "she's been a little shy around…well, everyone. It's nice that she's warming up to others." A snort left you as Jake tried to stand up, but was met with charged meows of protest. 

"I'm sorry, Chanel, I thought I gave you enough attention…but you're just like your mama, can't get enough." He winked at you, making you smile and your cheeks warm. 

 "Where'd you find this little attention magnet?"

"There's an animal shelter near the lab that was having a meet and greet. Ella took me when… when you ended things.” You tried to push down the somber thoughts that threatened to bubble up after all the positive progress that was made tonight. Jake's gaze softened at your words. “She was huddled in the back of the room, so I took her home." You could feel your eyes get teary at the resurface of the freshly scabbed wounds. Jake’s eyebrows furrowed in concern, his lips pointed in a slight frown. “I’m so sorry, Caledonia.” Your eyes met his heavy, sincere ones as he gently took your hand in his soft grasp. 

“I should never have done what I did to you.” 

You bit the inside of your lip, taking a step closer to him, gently cupping his freshly shaved cheeks. Letting your thumbs rub against his smooth skin.

“I know you’re sorry, and,” you took a breath, “I forgive you.” 

Jake feels his heart beat halt in his chest. He couldn’t describe in words how much those three words meant to him. “But you should know, I don’t give out second chances easily, and…for what it’s worth, Phoenix clocking you is quite the punishment.”

You gently ran your fingers along the edge of his nose.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, feeling his lip quirk. 

“You heard about that, huh?”

He cringed a bit as your lip tilted into a smile. 

“Surprisingly, Penny was less discreet about it than your colleagues.” You breathed out a chuckle. He watched as Chanel trotted to your crouched down form, circling in front of you, sliding your open palm along her arched back, her tail that rivaled that of a Swiffer duster oscillating above her. Jake knew he would do whatever it took to stay with you. He’d already been given a chance he didn’t deserve and he sure as hell wasn’t going to waste it. His warm jade gaze watched on as you gingerly picked her up as little trills and chirps left her, supporting her, and gingerly stroking her chin as she closed her eyes. "Do you wanna come upstairs? Watch something?" His gaze snapped to your own, nodding. 

"Sure," he murmured.

—

“You, know, I haven’t taken you out on a proper date, yet.” Jake whispered, his warm gaze shifting from Chanel’s purring form between you both on the bed to your bright ocean blue one already on his. 

“Glad to hear that’s where your mind is at after watching the X-Files with me, lover boy.”

His grin widened at your teasing tone. He scooted closer on his side, leaning down to kiss your ever-so sweet lips. 

“I’m serious. I want to do this right with you.”

Your heart pulsed all the faster, your lower lip trapped between your teeth, warping your smile. 

He took a breath. “Ms. Hughes, would you do me the honor of going out with me this Saturday night?”

Your blush bloomed on your cheeks like a field of poppies. He watched tentatively as you tilted your head to the side, gaze diverting as if thinking hard about the question. 

You sucked in air through your teeth, “Hm, I don’t think I can.” Jake’s face dropped.  “There’s this guy I really like that asked me out, and well, he’s sweet and very well endowed. And I don’t think I can say no to him. I’m sure you can understand.” You playfully examined your scarlet red manicured nails, fighting to keep your resolve neutral. His eyebrows furrowed, before a teasing smile lit up his features. 

“Hm, well endowed, huh?” His eyes matched your gleam.

You hummed in agreement, “Yeah, he’s always calling me Lass and, well, he recently came to his senses about me, and,” you pursed your lips, tucking some hair behind your ear, “I don’t think I can say no to him.”

Laughter bubbled up his throat, shaking his head as he gently brought your lips to his, taking in your sweet hums and sighs. He slid his tongue into your mouth, scooting closer into your personal space, almost forgetting that Chanel was settled comfortably between you both. Her meows and yowls of discontentment separating both of you with a jolt. His eyes darted from her lounging form back to your eyes, chuckles passing both of your lips.

“Well, it sounds like I have some competition.” He murmured, eyes bright with that teasing glint you loved.

You hummed in agreement, gently running your fingers over Chanel’s delicate fur, your playful eyes meeting his. 

“Is he also hoping to pick you up at 8 on Saturday?”

Your smirk widened.

“Somewhere in that ballpark.” You teased.

“Somewhere in that ballpark?” Jake scoffed, “doesn’t really sound like you're too wild about this ‘well endowed’ guy if you can’t even remember when he’s supposed to pick you up.” 

Your smile broke out into a grin at his playful tone, his chuckles soon following yours.  

You placed a sweet kiss to his lips, your noses brushing.

“I’d love to go out with you on Saturday night.”

Jake could have sworn his cheeks hadn’t hurt this much from a grin in his entire life. Chanel jumped down from the bed, opening up more space for you to lay closer to Jake. His grin widening as you promptly filled the space. 

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at 8.” He whispered, leaning his lips down closer to yours. 

You pulled away, slightly out of breath.

“One question, though-”

“Anything.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, “can we still do our fun, little lessons together?”

His eyebrows shot up. 

 Can we still do our fun, little lessons together?

He smirked, that charming smile bubbling below the surface.

Fun, little lessons, huh?

“Yeah, Lass, we can still do our fun, little lessons. We go as long or as short as you want, remember?”

Your eyes diverted away before your grin took over, bringing your eyes back to his.

“I mean, we’ve definitely covered a lot of bases.” You murmured, toying with your nails as you let your head settle into where his neck meets his shoulder. 

“Yeah, we definitely have,” he chuckled, his hands rubbing soothingly along your back and waist as he mentally tallied off the list.

“There’s still some more things I want to try with you, though…that we didn’t get to add to the list.” He murmured against your forehead as he gave you a soft kiss. 

You hummed, the body heat encasing you making you realize just how tired you really were, “Like what?” 

He leaned his head back against your bed frame, your body adjusting to lean against him. His hand taking hold of one of your own, gently running his thumb along the back of your hand. His eyes drawing to the deep red hue of your nails that suited you well. 

“Well, Lass, I was thinking you might like being tied up a little. We still have those fuzzy blue handcuffs to try out,” he noticed the slight clench of your thighs at the statement, making him grin. He didn’t have to see your face to know it was beginning to bloom like the Indian paintbrush flowers that grew in his family’s garden.

“Maybe you’d like it if we brought some whipped cream and chocolate into the mix, maybe some ice cubes-”

Your core stirred at the idea of licking delectable treats off of his body. And him doing the same to you. 

“Ice cubes?”

“Yeah, Lass,” he chuckled, through his drawl, “Ice cubes, it feels mighty fine from what I’ve seen and heard, especially on your pretty clit and tits.” 

You sighed, feeling your horniness start to brew.

“And I was thinking maybe we could try some role playing, we never did try out that mini skirt we bought, and I have a nice suit in my closet, and, forgive me if I’m overstepping, but you strike me as someone who had the hots for one of your professors in college.” He smirked as you blushed, fully taking in the proposed scenario. You couldn’t deny his hunch. 

“And I was thinking anal might be something you’d like to try.” Your head shot up, eyes widening as you met his warm gaze, like melted jade simmering in a cauldron, his smirk still drawing your attention. You’d never even considered anal as something you would want to try, but you couldn’t deny the quick flash of excitement in your clit at the idea. 

“But we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable doing.” He quickly reassured. He still had the sapphire blue heart cut crystal butt plug from Myrtle’s shop, and he could always return it. But he swore he could see a glint of excitement in your eyes regarding the topic. 

“What else do you want to try?” Your breathless tone made him smile and heart buzz with excitement. 

“Well, I was thinking, if you’re up for it, we could use some more of the sex toys we bought, you could also take the lead with some of them if you’d like, like the cockring we bought,” he cleared his throat, a blush starting to work its way up his neck. 

Your eyebrows furrowed before a gentle smile took over. His demeanour when talking about taking control and relinquishing it always differed in a peculiar way.

“I’d like to try taking more control with you…Too bad the cockring is at your place.” You whispered coquettishly.

His eyebrows shot up as your body rose for you to maintain eye contact with him. His eyes followed your every move as you settled onto his lap, letting your sharp nails scratch down the material of the front of his shirt. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his pupils blown wide with lust. 

“We do have to be careful. Penny and Amelia are probably asleep.” You whispered out as he huffed. 

Right. He forgot you didn’t have your own place. 

“We’ll just have to be quiet then, handsome.” You smirked, bringing your lips down to his. 

He moaned against your lips, completely trapped under your body and your sweet, delicious lips consuming him. 

—

Jake gently closed your bedroom door with a soft click after you gave him many kisses goodnight and made him promise to visit you on your shift tomorrow. He quietly crept down the stairs. He didn’t need Penny and Amelia to be upset with him, again, for waking them up. His footsteps fell soft against the hardwood flooring as he stepped into his shoes.

“This seems a bit more comfortable than going out the window.”

Jake almost jumped out of his skin, quickly turning to see Amelia at the counter with a glass of water and her plaid pajamas. A displeased expression on her face, making him nervous. 

“Amelia, you’re up late-”

“So are you.” She quipped, eyes sharp. 

He sighed. Right. It made sense that Amelia would be mad at him. 

“Listen, Amelia,” he ran his hand over his face,” me and Caledonia-”

“Just don’t break her heart again.”

He swallowed, watching the teenage girl maintain eye contact that matched her sharp tone before gathering her things and disappearing up the stairs.

The door clicked shut behind him, his shoes crunching under the gravel of their driveway. He turned back to look at the window he crawled out of weeks prior. His lip quirked at the memory of your sweet smile and words that soothed him like balm on the cracks in his heart.

I forgive you. 

Taglist: 

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[writingforstraykids]

Loved the Chan Milan fic! What about a male reader version with him fucking Chan's brain out instead?

Right here with you, always - m!reader version

Pairing: Chan x male!Reader

Word Count: 2282

Warnings/Tags: fluff, smut, unprotected sex, sub!chan, mirror sex (partly)

A/N: Hope you like it, lovey. Framwork is the same, smut is changed ofc🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©writingforstraykids 2024-

fem!version here

The cobblestone streets of Milan seemed to sparkle under the golden hues of the early evening sun as you and Chan made your way through the city. Milan was pulsing with life, its vibrant energy matching the excitement in your heart. Chan had invited you to join him on this glamorous outing, blending the worlds of high fashion and intimate togetherness.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, admiration blooming inside you. He was dressed in a blue shirt that highlighted the warmth of his eyes and complemented his dark hair. Chan suggested dinner at a small, elegant restaurant known for its secluded ambiance and exquisite Italian cuisine. Over plates of creamy risotto and perfectly aged wine, you shared stories and dreams, his laughter blending harmoniously with the soft notes of a violin playing somewhere in the background.

As the sky deepened into a velvety blue, Chan took your hand, leading you out into the enchanting night. Milan at night was a different kind of beautiful; the lights of the city reflected in the gentle ripple of the canals, the air filled with the subtle aroma of blooming jasmine. Walking through this cityscape with Chan, you felt as if you were part of a living canvas, every step painting a stroke of memories in your shared story.

Eventually, the night led you to his hotel, a place of refined elegance. Inside, the world quieted down to just the two of you. You guided Chan to the sofa in his suite, a soft, inviting piece that seemed to echo the plush luxury of your surroundings. As you settled into the comfort of the sofa, you pulled him gently into your lap, a smile playing on your lips.

“You look so beautiful tonight,” you whispered, your hands tracing the lines of his muscular arms, feeling the strength that lay beneath his soft shirt. “This blue shirt… it’s perfect on you. It makes your eyes look like chocolate; deep and endlessly sweet.” At first, he blushed, a shy smile curving his lips as his gaze flickered away. It wasn't often that he heard such open adoration, even from you, his partner. Yet, the honesty in your voice and the warmth in your eyes encouraged him to accept your compliments. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, your own confidence growing with the realization of how much he needed you in this moment.

“I love seeing you like this,” you murmured, your voice a soft rumble against his ear. Your hands were gentle but firm on his back, making every nerve in his body sing with a pleasant tension. The room around you seemed to fade, the sounds of Milan's nightlife a distant echo to the intimacy that unfolded between the two of you. “Love how handsome you look,” you told him, hands fondling up his thighs. “Love how your body always searches mine,” you confessed, biting back a soft groan as he pressed down against you.

Your lips met his in a fierce kiss, hand shooting up into his hair. Chan kissed back eagerly, grinding down against you with soft, needy sounds. Your grip on his hair tightened, your hips chasing his with a low groan.

As the kiss deepened, your senses overwhelmed by the gentle yet insistent passion between you, the world outside seemed to vanish completely. Your hands moved with a tenderness that contrasted and complemented the growing intensity of the moment. You were skilled, knowing exactly how to make him feel cherished and desired all at once.

Chan quickly got up, getting rid of his trousers and boxers in one go. After checking in with you, his shirt joined the rest of his clothes on the floor, and he stood bare before you. You lifted your hips, shuffling your pants down enough to free your aching length. Your hands found his hips, and you pulled him back into your lap, smiling at how thrilled Chan seemed. You made quick work of preparing him, stretching him out with your fingers and kissing down his neck hungrily. Chan sunk down on you soon, moaning out loudly as you stretched his fluttering walls just right.

Chan's hands found purchase on your shoulders, steadying himself as he began to move. His head tipped back, exposing the graceful line of his neck, his eyes fluttering shut in pure bliss. You held him closely, guiding him with a gentle yet insistent rhythm. The soft sounds of his pleasure mixed with the distant hum of the city night created a symphony of intimacy.

"You feel so amazing," you whispered, your voice husky with desire. You increased the pace, each thrust meeting him with a perfect alignment that sent waves of pleasure coursing through both of your bodies.

Chan's response was to grip your shoulders tighter, his nails digging in slightly as the intensity built. His moans grew louder, more urgent, and he began to meet your movements with equal fervor. The connection between you deepened, a tangible thread of desire that pulled you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

In the mirror at the closet opposite the sofa, you could see your reflections entwined in a passionate dance. Chan's body was a perfect contrast against your own. His skin was bathed in the soft light that filtered through the windows, highlighting his features in a glow that seemed almost ethereal. The sight of your dick disappearing inside him made you moan loud enough to catch his attention. "Look at us," you urged him, wanting him to see the beauty of the moment as you saw it. Reluctantly, Chan opened his eyes, and his gaze met the mirror behind the sofa, seeing the reflection from the mirror across the room. The sight of the two of you, so closely connected, so lost in each other, brought a new flush to his cheeks, but his eyes shone with an emotion that was deep and raw.

"Fuck," Chan breathed out, his voice catching as your movements brought him higher. “Need more, please,” he whined, needily moving his hips. “Go rough on me, please.”

Your heart pounded with desire at his plea, and you responded by increasing the intensity of your movements. Chan's moans grew louder, filling the room with the sound of his pleasure. When his moans reached a fever pitch, you decided to change positions. Gently, you lifted him off your lap, only to flip him around, settling him back onto you so he was facing the mirror on the closet. The new angle made him gasp, his eyes widening as he saw the full reflection of his own pleasure. 

You wrapped one arm around his waist to steady him, your other hand coming up to cover his mouth, muffling his loud moans. "Shh," you whispered in his ear, your breath hot against his skin. "We don't want everyone to hear us."

The sensation of being silenced, coupled with the sight of himself in the mirror, seemed to drive Chan wild. His eyes locked onto yours in the reflection, his pupils dilated with lust. He started moving again, his hips grinding against you with a desperate urgency.

"Look at how beautiful you are," you murmured against his ear, your voice a low growl. "Look at how perfect we are together."

Chan's muffled moans vibrated against your palm, his body shivering with the intensity of the sensations. You kept your rhythm steady; each thrust hitting deeper, more precise, driving both of you closer to the edge. 

Your eyes never left the mirror, watching the way Chan's body responded to your every move. The sight of him, completely undone, his face flushed and eyes filled with raw desire, spurred you on. "You're mine, Chan," you growled, your grip on his waist tightening. "Only mine."

He nodded, his eyes rolling back slightly as another wave of pleasure crashed over him. His body trembled, his muscles tightening around you in a way that sent shivers up your spine. You could feel your own release building, the tension coiling tighter with each thrust.

You thrust harder, each movement pushing him closer to the edge. The mirror reflected the raw intimacy of the moment, your bodies moving in perfect harmony, the connection between you palpable and undeniable.

Chan's eyes were locked onto the mirror, his breath coming in shallow gasps. The sight of you behind him, your hands steady and confident, was overwhelming. His skin was flushed, his lips parted, and the tension in his body was electric. You could see every muscle in his back tense with each thrust, the sight of your reflection in the mirror making the moment even more intense.

"Fuck, Y/n," Chan managed to moan through your hand, his voice barely audible but full of raw emotion. The sight of his flushed face, the way his body moved with yours, was almost too much to handle. You could see the ecstasy building in his eyes, the need, the desire, everything laid bare in the reflection.

"You're close, aren't you?" you whispered in his ear, your voice thick with lust. "I can feel it, Chan. Show me how much you need this."

With another hard thrust, Chan's body tensed, his eyes rolling back as he almost reached the peak of his pleasure. His muffled moans were drowned out by your hand, his body shaking with every wave of ecstasy. You could feel the tightening of his walls around you, the warmth of his climax making you lose control as well.

With a final, powerful thrust, you buried yourself deep inside him, your release hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Chan's muffled cries of pleasure filled the room, his body convulsing as he followed you over the edge. 

You held him close, both of you riding out the aftershocks of your climax. Slowly, you removed your hand from his mouth, pressing soft kisses along his neck and shoulder. "You did so well," you murmured, your voice filled with tenderness. "So beautiful, so perfect."

Chan turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours. "You’re amazing.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for him. "With you, it’s always perfect," you replied, your hands gently caressing his sides.

The world outside the hotel room was a distant memory, the night in Milan a backdrop to the profound connection you shared with Chan. As he lay in your arms, the city lights twinkling outside the window, you knew that no matter where life took you, moments like these would always bring you back to each other.

-

Later, after you had both cleaned up and settled into the luxurious bed, the quiet intimacy continued to envelop you. Chan's gentle touches and soft murmurs of affection filled the space between you, making even the simplest moments feel special.

"Do you remember our first trip together?" Chan asked, his voice a soft rumble in the darkness.

You smiled, recalling the memory fondly. "Of course I do. How could I forget? It was magical."

"It was," he agreed, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. "But this... tonight... it's even better."

You turned to face him, your eyes meeting in the dim light. "Why do you say that?"

"Because we're here together," he replied simply, his voice filled with sincerity. "Because every moment with you is better than the last."

Your heart swelled with love for him, and you leaned in to kiss him softly. "I feel the same way," you whispered against his lips. "Every moment with you is a gift."

As he drifted off to sleep in your arms, he knew that no matter what challenges or adventures lay ahead, you would face them together, your love growing stronger with each passing day.

-

The next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You woke up to the feeling of Chan’s fingers gently tracing patterns on your back, his touch a comforting presence.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice still husky with sleep.

“Good morning,” you replied, turning to face him. His eyes were warm and filled with love, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Chan leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. “How did you sleep?” he asked when he pulled away.

“Perfectly,” you said, your heart swelling with happiness. “How about you?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in a long time,” he admitted, his smile widening. “Being with you always makes everything better.”

You snuggled closer to him, savoring the peaceful morning. “I feel the same way,” you confessed, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

As the morning progressed, you both took your time getting ready, enjoying the relaxed pace of the day. The streets of Milan called to you, promising new adventures and memories to be made. But no matter what the day held, you knew that the connection you shared with Chan would remain the most beautiful part of your journey together.

-

Walking through the bustling streets of Milan once more, hand in hand with Chan, you felt a profound sense of gratitude for the love and happiness you had found. The city seemed to sparkle with the promise of new experiences, each moment adding to the rich tapestry of your shared life.

Chan squeezed your hand gently, his eyes reflecting the same joy that filled your heart. “Ready for another day of adventures?” he asked, his voice filled with excitement.

“Absolutely,” you replied, smiling up at him. “As long as I’m with you, I’m ready for anything.”

And with that, you both stepped forward, ready to embrace whatever the day had in store, knowing that together, you could conquer the world.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves @james-is-here @queer-possum

[dixons-sunshine]

You hummed quietly to yourself in the kitchen of the small two-story house you and Daryl occupied in Alexandria. After a harsh, intense period of fighting with not only the undead but the Saviours as well, it was nice to have some semblance of peace in the aftermath. It had been a grueling process to rebuild the remains of Alexandria from the ground up, but with the help from everyone in the community, as well as from people in other communities as well, Alexandria stood tall and proud once again. With all the houses rebuilt and with additional houses built as well, you and Daryl had opted to claim one of the smaller properties as your own, a sanctuary away from the bustling crowd of Alexandria after an exhausting day.

The paragraph of my first ever work in the The Walking Dead writing community. The story that kick-started this blog into what it is today. in SICKNESS and in health, posted February 25th 2024. Honestly, it feels like a lifetime and no time at all has passed since then. It’s such a surreal feeling.

When I wrote that story, I definitely did not expect anything to come of it. I remember being on season seven at the time of writing that, and feeling my heart break with what happened to Daryl in the sanctuary. I wrote that little comfort fic for myself at first, just to feel better about the hurt that was season 7, but then I thought “hey. I might as well post it. I’m sure someone out there will enjoy it.” And that’s what I did. I posted it and exited Tumblr directly after, and did not touch it again for a whole day. And when I did…

I saw my notifications showing me a bright blue ‘99+’. And I had gained a whole 20 followers, putting my follower count at the time at 29. Seeing that made my heart burst with joy. I could not believe that people were actually enjoying what I wrote. Also, I remember scrolling through my notifications and stopping dead in my tracks when I saw that @angelwings-crossbowstrings, aka one of the people whose stories inspired me to try my hand at writing for Daryl in the first place, had not only liked it, but reblogged it and followed me. My poor mom got bombarded with “holy shit, this amazing writer just followed me!” messages that day. She had no idea what I was yapping about, but she was supportive.

After that, I tried it again. Wrote something, posted it, and it got notes. And then again. I wrote my first installment for my “Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU” as my third ever fic, which is still my most popular series to date. That fic also served as the gateway to people sending me their amazing ideas via requests.

And the hits just kept on coming after that. And I still can’t believe that I get to say that people like my writing. Take that, my third grade English teacher.

This year had its ups, and it definitely had its downs. Due to the fact that I was so excited to get this blog up and running, I pushed myself too hard a lot of times, and I have burnt myself out on more than one occasion. I told myself that if I didn’t pump out fics every day, people would be disappointed in me. I had set high expectations for myself, and I felt so bad when I couldn’t live up to them. However, through lots of reassurance and guidance, I realized that it was unhealthy for me, mentally speaking. I was pushing myself way too hard, and I needed to slow down if I wanted to keep the fun of writing alive for me.

This year, I also had a moment where I was scared. I found something that made me realize that my blog could have potentially been the next target for a known plagiarist, and it made me fearful. I pour my heart and soul into every story that I write, so having the safety that I associate with writing threatened was a terrifying thing. However, thanks to the vigilant creators behind the @fanfic-plagiarism-watchdog blog, my worries were settled. (Although I still keep my eyes peeled for any suspicious activity on that other blog.)

Now, for the ups. Let’s get the negativity out of here. We’re ending this year with a bang.

I never celebrated this, but I reached 1k followers this year! It happened so quickly, I barely had time to register and think of how to celebrate it. At the time of posting this, I’m a little less than 70 followers away from 2k, and I just wanna say thank you to each and every one of you for deciding to stick around. Your love and support means the world to me.

I had a work of mine surpass 2000 notes! That number is still so surreal to me, oh my god.

Not something writing related, but I moved this year. It was definitely a good decision and I don’t regret it at all. It was hard moving everything from one house to the next, but in the end, it was definitely worth it.

I also met some amazing people because of this blog. I still can’t believe that I get to say that I know them on a somewhat personal level. @lazyneonrabbitt, @angelwings-crossbowstrings, @enlightndone, @shadowcitrine, @dixondystopia, @dix0nvix3n, @deansapplepie, @snailss, @remnantsofsleep and @yevmarie.

And I can not forget about my girl @holdmytesseract. You’re one of my absolute favourite people ever and I love you. Keep being your awesome self, sweetheart.

And @thevegandarkelf. I still can’t believe that I get to talk to her on a daily basis. What started out with a comment about how our angels (our OCs, Vec and Georgie) would have been friends in an alternate universe spiraled into, if I may be so bold, a friendship. Taylor has become a huge part of my day-to-day life, and I honestly can’t believe that I get to just text you randomly throughout the day about anything at all. I love you.

I would also like to give the biggest of thanks to @daryl-dixon-daydreams. Her fic entitled “Plan A” was the first ever work of Daryl I read here on Tumblr, and she was one of my biggest inspirations to start writing after my long hiatus. So thank you for blessing us with your amazing writing, and I can’t wait to read more of what you put out.

Now, to finish this off, I thought I’d give my personal favourite fics I wrote this year:

Daryl Dixon:

Hazelnut—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Was It was Boogeyman?—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams—Young!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Needs To Be Perfect—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Crushes Are For School Girls—Daryl Dixon x Georgianna Hawkins (OC)

Scud Frohmeyer:

Look At Me—Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Perfect End—Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Performance—Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Murphy MacManus:

Make A Move—Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

The Safety—Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Irish Man In A Closet—Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Thank you all so much for sticking with me this year. I love each and every one of you so much, and I can’t wait to embark into the new year with all of you.

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, and happy new year in advance!

[br4tphobia]

obsessed . + eren jaeger

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ details + Toxic! eren jaeger x black!fem reader, unprotected sex, cock drunk reader, p in v, on and off relationship, toxicness, black coded y/n, profanity, dirty talk, humiliation kink if u squint, tummy buldge, over stimulation, and sex w/o plot!

✧˖*° vals note!! + first fic?? but not really since its short but pls forgive me if its sloppy 🫶🏾

“oh fu-u-u-uck!” you curse at the harsh deep strokes, his tip kissing your stomach from inside every time he slams back into you. gripping his shoulders with your long acrylics, leaving light scratches causing him to groan.

“shit baby..tell me how i make you feel..” placing his hand on your jaw, moving his free hand on your lower stomach, placing it on your tummy buldge, whimpering. “s-so good.. oh my god..” whining out with your eyes rolling the the back of your head.

your mind went blank, all your thoughts are of him. his name, his hands, how good he makes you feel. all you could think of was Eren. youre obsessed, so obsessed you hate it.. “oh fuh..right there! yesyesyesyes..” gripping his shoulders harder than before. the same spot being abused repeated causing you to release over his cock with no warning, causing a white ring forming.

“aw baby..i thought u h-hated me..look at you now. cumming on this dick, being such a pretty girl..all for me..?” he stammered at your walls tightening on him, his thrusts quickening. "its t-too much..e-eren!!" covering your eyes with your hand as u roll your head back at the immense pleasure. "lemme see those eyes ma.." muttered, still trying to hold a grudge against him but u give up. taking your hand off of your faces, making eye contact with eren.

"atta girl.. youre so- god.. fucking pretty.." he quickened his pace chasing after his own high "e-eren..! i-i cant take it.." you whimper at the over stimulation, arching your back as tears threatened to fall from your eyes. "pretty dont run from it, t-take it all.. i know you can" he grunted, pressing his hand over the dick print hes causing, lowering your arch. you cant help but whine even louder, you feel your orgasm approaching for the second time.

he knew by your volume, he loved hearing you, he loves the way you talk, your attitude, he loves you. and he wants you to know that. "im g-gonna cum again rennieee!" you warn, his grip tightening on your hips. the pit in your stomach getting hotter and hotter. "fuck.. go ahead p-pretty.. make a mess on this dick." his thumb on your clit causes you to break. shuddering under him, feeling his cum deep inside you.

trying to catch your breath, eren collapses on you. "boy get the f-fuck off of me!" panting, trying to push him off of you. “only if u forgive me.” he muttered, with his head burried in your neck. there was a awkward silence, thinking about your decision. knowing your previous mistakes with him, “mmch.” you kiss your teeth “..ok..now get yo big ass off me of me!” blurting, feeling a relief off your body.

“thats what i thought.” he rolls his eyes, “dont make me change my mind..” mean mugging him, seeing a smile form on his face and u cant help but do the same. “i love you” he mumbled, peppering your face with kisses

theemrsjaeger 2023 © do not plagiarize, copy, or repost anything I post. reblog if you enjoyed 🩷

[mikashisus]

THUS ALWAYS TO TYRANTS

SYNOPSIS. fate and time were tricky. barbatos was more than familiar with both, as his own fate had been tampered with long ago. but now, a mortal has passed through the barrier he was meant to safeguard, and the heavens are lashing out at him for his mistakes. amidst it all, he fails in yet another duty— keeping mondstadt safe from a threat that has been brewing under the surface since the death of an ancient god king. and gods… does he have a colossal mess to clean up.

PAIRING. venti x fem!reader

CONTAINS. blood + injury, violence, panic attacks, lots of self deprecation, imagery of suffocating + drowning, loss of limbs, implied self harm, barbatos almost fucking dies. - (more added later if needed)

NOTES. had a great idea of making a time travel au while writing clipped wings (a venti fic i decided to discontinue), but it didn’t rlly make sense for me to implement it into that fic, so i decided to make it its own fic instead. (see chapter 1 for more notes.) HUGE thank u to mira @m1ckeyb3rry for the header!! ilysm <3

playlist | tavern playlist | ao3

01: the moon will sing a song for me

02: my feet knew the path we walked in the dark

02.5: my heart knew the weight

03: i loved you like the sun

04: i shine only with the light you gave me

05: you hoarded all that’s left of me - alternate ending

TAGLIST. @wystiix @kazuinvocation @pixelcafe-network @daydreaming-paradies @gl4di0lus @pneumosia

© 2024 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[mysteria157]

Chapter One

Pairing: Black Fem!Reader x Hitman Toji Fushiguro

CW: Profanity, Hints of Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Comfort

Word Count: Don't worry about it.

Summary:

“I’m only going to say this one more time, Toji. I don’t do situationships. I don’t do friends with benefits or the occasional hookup. You want more? I want you to try. Earn me.”

His hands are so bloody, that if you ever knew the source, you would'nt want someone like him to try. He shouldn't be here, taking up so much of your time, asking for more. But he's selfish.

-or; Toji, a notorious hitman, moves to America for more money and a better life for his son. He didnt expect to sleep with you, let alone want more. When his dangerous life catches up to him, he takes on one final lucrative hit, but realizes this target has unseen connections hitting closer to home. Now he must navigate a perilous job while desperately keeping his criminal double life hidden from you.

Authors Notes: Hello! I hope you all enjoy this first chapter. As stated in the masterlist, this fic is a continuation from Maneater, so reading that will definitely help set the tone for this fic. I plan to dig deep with this story and really find my voice writing a different genre.

As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy and thank you for your support!

| Twitter | Ao3| Masterlist | Prologue | Next Chapter

Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon | Header: created by myself (fanart from Pinterest)

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

…women like you drown oceans -Rupi Kaur

*** You ***

Pop!

The sharp sound of gum expanding and then exploding causes you to flinch, your eyeliner pen frozen just above your lid. Through the mirror’s reflection, you shoot a glare at the open closet door, where your cousin rummages through your clothes.

Pop!

She’s in her own little world. If this were any other circumstance, she would have been scolded for her habit of popping gum—a top offender on the list of annoying behaviors ingrained in both of you since childhood. You detest the sound, and if you were closer, you would have punched her in the stomach by now.

You and your cousin typically get along well, but she enjoys testing your limits to coax you out of your shell. The only way to shut her up is by letting her tire herself out during her talkative rampages or swinging at her when you’ve had enough.

Every day with her is a gamble of which will come first.

Your eyeliner is still hovering by your upper lid, suspended in place as you watch another sundress get haphazardly thrown against the closet wall instead of being put back on a hanger where it fucking belongs.

You can’t bother with trying to get violent with her, you’re way too preoccupied with other thoughts. More incessant thoughts like how to play it cool on a date. It’s not that hard, right? Be yourself, get a gauge of the man trying to impress you, entertain a few hours of your day and then back home to relax.

Easy.

If it were anyone else but Toji, then it would be easy.

You had buried yourself in double shifts and extended hours in the lab just to distract yourself from today. Anything to keep you busy and keep your mind off the fact that someone you are sort of interested in…wants to see you. And he reminds you every day when you look down at your phone.

Despite his admission of being a lazy texter, Toji is surprisingly consistent. But the messages take on a blunt form wrapped around a small pearl of care.

Toji: Eat breakfast. What good are you in a hospital if you pass out?

Toji: Stop taking on more shifts, its stupid. Go home and rest.

Toji: You better not be tired this weekend. 

No matter how hard you try to force your face to stay immobile, each text makes your lips twitch into a small smile. He masks his words in harsh deliveries, but the intention is obvious. The satisfying jolt that shoots up your spine when your phone buzzes with a notification from him should be embarrassing. It should be.

But you love it.

It’s absurd, really. Only two weeks have passed since you met him, hardly enough time to form any meaningful connection. Yet, that night at your uncle’s was unexpectedly delightful. Toji was, against your better judgment, charming and attentive, almost to the point of clinginess. And, undeniably, he’s attractive. And a fucking fantastic lay.

So, despite your instinct to ignore a man and the way they flaunt their feathers for your attention, you want Toji to bring that same energy as last time.

You lean your elbows back into the shiny wood of your vanity, focusing your attention on your eye as you lower the eyeliner to your skin.

Pop!

The sound makes you jump, disrupting your focus and smearing the eyeliner across your temple.

“Rene!” you bark, slamming your eyeliner down on the vanity top with a force that makes your hand sting, and you yank a drawer open in search of a makeup wipe. “Stop popping your gum before I come over there and beat the shit out of you.” As you wipe off the smudged makeup, you catch the reflection of your cousin emerging from your closet.

She embodies a beauty that’s almost blinding, matched only by her lively personality. So naturally, heads turn when she enters a room, her chocolate skin seemingly radiant wherever she goes. With her thick, kinky hair always in a protective style and her unshakeable confidence in her intelligence and appearance, Rene caught Shiu’s attention immediately, and he’s been captivated ever since.

She is one of very few in your family who truly gets you, who sees the world with clarity and understands its nuances and how to navigate through it without compromising her ideals. Since childhood, you’ve stuck to each other like glue. She understands you and your guarded demeanor, you understand her and her loud personality. She’s one of your best friends.

But at this moment, as she stands before you in booty shorts and a tank top that accentuates her curves, her twist out cascading from a pineapple updo, and an outfit draped over one arm, she is pissing you off as she pops her gum againwith a cheeky expression.

“I like your makeup.” A sly grin stretches on her face, enhancing her soft features. You ignore her, feeling your defenses rise as she effortlessly peels back your layers. The liquid eyeliner glides against the smooth brown of your skin, forming a subtle cat-eye as you pretend not to notice her approaching you from behind.

She gracefully settles onto your vanity top, ignoring your lipstick casing that teeters over and rolls across the shiny surface. You shoot her another glare before moving to your other eye. “You should put on some mascara too. When you give him head later today, I’m sure he’ll love to see it run down your cheeks and—”

You swing at her not even a second later, landing a solid smack on the side of her thigh. “UM Ow?!”

“Um?? Shut the fuck up,” you growl, sneering at her with a leveling scowl that you hope cuts through her.

It doesn’t.

Rene snorts, shrugging off the vanity and moving to your bed to change her clothes. As she pulls your dark jeans over her thick thighs, you can’t help but wonder if you should dress more…sexy?  Your jean shorts reveal enough skin, and the jersey fits snugly around your torso. You’re no stranger to dressing to the nines and making heads turn just like her, but you value practicality more than appeal. It’s a football game, after all, and you love football. Why bother looking overly sexy when you’ll be screaming and stuffing hotdogs and pretzels in your mouth?

Despite the logic, a hand of insecurity tightens around your throat.

Rene, like the annoyingly clairvoyant bitch she is, tastes the shift in the air and rolls her eyes at you through the mirror’s reflection. “You look fucking amazing. Toji asked you out—frequently, I might add.”

The memories of his persistence flash through your mind in a rush. Heated touches in the backseat of your truck, sweaty skin sliding against each other, and your mouth dripping with moans of satisfaction were constantly interrupted by his repeated question.

“Let me take you out.”

As if he couldn’t get enough. As if he wanted more. As if he wouldn’t leave your uncle’s house that night until you flat-out told him to leave you alone.

You haven’t entertained a man since your cheating ex, so your defenses remain high and guarded, fortified with brick and mortar, armed to fend off anyone who comes too close.

But in such a short time, Toji managed to advance further than others with hard skin resilient to your attacks, and a constant insistence to be by your side. He’s spoken to you in ways that would have landed others in the ER, yet his words were always laced with harsh care to make you confront your own overreactions instead of hiding.

“Stop acting up and let me be nice to you.”

“You’re not mean to men; you just don’t do bullshit.”

“It’s okay to be a little excited about this,” Rene interjects, slicing through the thick current of your anxiety.

And you are, excited and a little nervous, though you don’t respond to her, simply reaching for your clear lip gloss to finish your makeup.

By the time there is a knock on your door thirty minutes later, you and Rene are ready to go. Your curls are piled high on your head, tendrils falling to frame your face and your hairline slicked with curled edges. There’s a subtle shake in your hands wrapped around the handle of your front door, betraying the calm façade you wear.  As you open it, expecting Toji’s familiar face, you’re met with Shiu, a toothpick in his mouth and a gentle smile playing on his lips.

You greet him warmly with a hug, letting him inside. He can only hug you for a second before rushing past you and toward the direction of your room, anxious to see his fiancé. “Don’t fuck on my bed!” you yell after him, loud enough for your cousin to hear.

It’s only a minute later when there’s a knock at the door that makes you jump, shocking you into reality again as you realize that you haven’t moved since inviting Shiu inside. In your stupidity, you look through the peephole and swallow the gasp at Toji’s distorted form.

“I can see your feet. Open the door,” his deep voice cuts, familiar and commanding.

Your fingers curl against the wooden surface of your door, nails scratching lightly along the veneer as you wrestle with the innate temptation to be stubborn. Besides Nanami Kento—another close friend and coworker—Toji is the only man you’ve let talk to you like this. He’s a little bit of an asshole, but beneath his rough exterior lies a tender core that beckons you to peel back the layers like an onion, eager to feel just how soft the bulb is in the center. You’re drawn to him in a way you can’t explain, and it’s a longing that ignites a hunger that you haven’t experienced in a very long time.

With a resigned sigh, you swing the door open to be welcomed by the sight of him, a picture that leaves you momentarily breathless. You swallow the drool that pools instantly in the back of your throat, curl your toes in your sneakers to resist the urge to spring forward and slant your lips against his, and bite the inside of your lip so the twitching on the sides does not turn into a gentle smirk.

“You look good, baby,” his words roll off his tongue effortlessly, his gaze sweeping over you with a knowing intensity. It feels as though he’s studying a heavily guarded masterpiece that he finally has his hands on to steal. He notices every stroke of paint, every blotch that makes you who you are and it’s with a concentration that leaves you dizzy enough to grip the door tighter in your hands.

Though only a week has passed since you last saw him, his presence still grips you with a force that borders on intoxicating. Clad in a black shirt that accentuates his commanding presence, his broad shoulders exude a magnetic strength that summons you, stirring a primal desire to dig your fingernails into him like you did that night in your truck. One of his hands is tucked in a jeaned pocket, the other is behind his back, and jet-black locks brush his cheeks as he chuckles, undoubtedly amused by the dumbfounded stare that you’re still shooting his way. His scar cradles the side of his lips in a seductive curl as he smirks.

God, he’s so—he’s so—

His presence seems to fill the entire room, a tangible force even without crossing the threshold of your home. An urgent ache surges within you, craving the warmth of his embrace, the security of his strength.

“You gonna let me in or just keep your mouth open for the flies?” His voice breaks the reverie in your mind, a well-known blend of annoyance that fills your chest immediately. You’re reminded of how effortlessly irritating he can be, yet there’s a strange allure in his confidence.

At this point, you don’t have a quip loaded up quick enough to shoot back at him. So, you step aside and hold your breath as his large body crosses the threshold of your home.

The last time he was at your door, he barged inside with a barely contained fury and pulled you into an argument that stemmed from your unwillingness to be vulnerable and his lack of expertise in expressing himself. It was a weird song and dance that marked the beginning of something you still don’t fully understand. Now, he’s here with a slightly different demeanor, calm and self-assured as he plants a firm kiss on your cheek as if he’s a hardworking husband returning home just in time for dinner.

You gape at his nonchalance, watching in disbelief as he kicks off his shoes and pulls his hand from behind his back, presenting you a bouquet of flowers in a manner that feels both rushed and sincere. You look down at the flowers, wide-eyed and blinking to make sure the reality you are currently in isn’t actually a simulation.

Daisies.

Not the cheap, wilted blooms you kind of expected from him, but fresh, vibrant flowers. Their white petals gleam softly, each grain of pollen in the yellow center visible in the light of your kitchen. The stems are freshly cut, wrapped in a simple red bow and your chest is fluttering with a severity that unsettles you.

“I didn’t know what kind you liked. And I don’t trust Shiu with an honest answer so…” His words trail off, leaving unspoken sentiments lingering in the air.

 Your lips curl around words that won’t form, and you mentally sort through your book of tricks. It’s a book you’ve spent years filling after countless experiences. Men will do just about anything for pussy. There’s no reason to be shocked at why they do the things they do—they’re all the same.

But even from that first day you met, you have already shuffled through your book when it comes to Toji. Every time you look up whatever trick he tries to pull, you come up with an empty page. There’s never a solution or a pre-written response that you can use. You have no choice but to figure this out on your own and fill in the pages later.

“If you don’t like them, you don’t have to take them,” he cuts into your thoughts, words edged with a trace of embarrassment that he’s trying to cover up with frustration. “Just give them back—” He reaches for the flowers, and you reflexively pull your arms away, much to your own shock at the way your body moves on its own.

“I like them,” you blurt out, your voice not as strong as you want it to be but thankfully steady as the words leave your lips. “They’re very nice, Toji. Thank you.”

He drops his hand, shoves it deep into the pocket of his jeans before clearing his throat and giving you a sharp nod. His eyes take in your face for only a second before they flit away to focus on a random spot in your living room, a hint of blush on his cheeks that makes the fluttering in your chest pick up in speed. It’s a weird feeling that will consume you if you don’t stay in control.

So, you push it down, swallow the pool of saliva in your mouth so it can help the glide, all the way down to the pit of your belly to extinguish the embers that threaten to lick to life. You shuffle past him and into the kitchen to fetch a vase, your mind sorting through the symptoms of various pulmonary diseases to distract yourself from the giddiness of him getting you flowers.

A normal thing. The bare minimum for a man. But it makes you feel great all the same. They aren’t your favorite, not even close, but it’s a gesture that shatters your preconceived notions about Toji that probably shouldn’t be there in the first place.

“What are they?” he asks, face still pink below his eyes that linger on the countertop instead of at you. You untie the bow at the stems and slide the daisies into an antique vase with crystalline ridges, shooting him a questioning raised eyebrow in response. One of his hands gestures wildly to the vase you are filling with water. “Your favorite flowers.”

“Snapdragons.” Toji throws you a quizzical look, his eyebrows pinched together in a clear display of confusion that makes you chuckle. You push the now full vase of flowers to the center of your kitchen countertop, the sight warming your stomach no matter how much you try to stop it. “They aren’t in season, but there’s a vendor here that sells them in the Spring and Fall. Growing up, we lived right next to a river where they would grow. My father would pick them every year and bring them to my mother as a gift. Whenever they wilted, he picked more and replaced them…over and over until they weren’t in season anymore.”

You dig your teeth into the wet flesh of your cheek to stop yourself from rambling, the need to talk more about yourself is at the tip of your tongue. He’s quiet as he takes in your response, eyebrows twitching with fleeting emotion before they smooth out into their usual calm expression. Maybe it’s your eyes playing tricks, but he looks as if he’s locked away your little nugget of information and is ready to move on to the next thing.

More of you.

That gaze is now free of shyness and taking you in, sharp and cutting and rough around the edges, his green irises sliding down to the exposed skin of your thighs, and they must beckon him because he makes his way towards you with a dominating presence that tightens your throat. He walks around the countertop, avoiding the sharp edge from biting into his side and now he’s standing in front of you, looming and dwarfing you without even trying. You catch a whiff of his cheap cologne—a different scent from what you smelled before—but still rich with bergamot undertones that make you more curious than bothered at his frugal mentality.

“Can I kiss you? Or you gonna smack me instead?”

Even though he’s teasing, he displays the growing knowledge of your boundaries and the lengths you will go to protect yourself.

“What, you want to get smacked, Toji?” you retort, lifting an eyebrow at him, your neck tingling from the strain of looking up due to his height. God, he’s such a big man. Big and burly and just enough to overwhelm you in a way that you crave so, so much.

“Nah. I want a kiss,” he confidently responds, blowing away the cloud of lust from around your head.

He’s too close and yet not close enough. He smells too good, looks too good with a voice that’s too deep and melodic for you to ride on logic for a full day, but you need him closer, so much closer and—

Your back brushes against the edge of the kitchen sink, making you tense at the realization that he’s backed you up against it and is looking down at you with that nasty smirk you entertain more than you should.

“You…” you begin, trailing off when one of his muscular arms reaches past you to rest onto the counter on one side, still giving you an escape route even though you’ll take being trapped against him any time of the day. “You already kissed me on the cheek when you walked in without asking me. Don’t be stingy.”

Toji clicks his tongue in disappointment, the sound pushing a rush of electricity down your spine that’s generating too much energy between your legs. He shrugs, broad shoulders pulling up and down, stretching his shirt in the most delicious way. “That’s not enough.”

Although lust is darkening your thoughts slowly despite your resolve, you still have enough common sense to remember the kind of woman you are. You’re someone unwilling to tolerate fuckboy behavior and would rather humiliate a man than give in to temptation that would only embarrass you in the future. You have to stay in control. Just for the rest of the day to measure his intentions with a level head. Even though you feel heavy with lidded eyes, you slip into that second skin of yourself with ease.

“Ask nicely,” you whisper.

He takes the bait—like they always do—and slinks further into your space, his broad and muscular form brushes against your softer one. Your gaze remains indifferent as he asks to kiss you in a sing-song voice that’s borderline annoying and teasing, threatening to make you laugh despite your resistance.

You take in his question with a noncommittal hum and slide a hand up the soft fabric of his chest. The muscles underneath flex and twitch beneath your palm, echoing memories of that unforgettable night when you could slide your fingers on the sweat of his abs as you rode him for all he was worth.

Your hand rests against his cheek, watching as he slowly falls for your trap, inhaling deeply with his lips a mere breath away from yours before you speak calmly and softly.

“No.”

You stroke his cheek in a soothing manner before patting it a little too hard that’s close to a smack, yanking a grunt of frustration from him as he pulls away with an bothered growl. You relish in the sigh of his scar twisting when his face curls with annoyance, his eyes rolling and his arms folding across his chest like a child being denied dessert. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your lips, growing in intensity as his eyes narrow at you.

“You’re so damn annoying,” he pouts, and the fact that he truly looks put off for not getting a kiss only makes you laugh harder.

***

The sight and sound of cheering fans excite you, filling you with childhood memories of games with your father. As the four of you make your way through the large parking lot and in the direction of the stadium, you take in the display of emotions that cross Toji’s face as he is immersed in a part of culture unfamiliar to him. The intricacies of American sports are puzzling to Toji, you realize. While you wave excitedly to the fans who are tailgating and grilling food and playing cornhole, he looks on in disbelief. When you explain the concept of tailgating to him, his expression deepens even more. He doesn’t like the hecklers that litter right outside the entrance and try to sell nosebleed tickets twelve times the market price. He thinks porta-pottys are foul as he takes in the long line of people who wait along the side of the large parking lot. You can tell he’s a little overwhelmed, and aggravated by the new things he learns. But he doesn’t complain, content to listen to the three of you as he watches his surroundings.

Despite the array of emotions that engulf him, he keeps you by his side without a second thought. The closer you get to the stadium, the thicker the crowd gets. When you make it through security and begin the long journey up the stone circular walkway of the stadium, Toji wraps a muscular arm around you and rests his hand on your hip in a grip that conveys a protective strength that shoots fluctuating reactions through you.

At first, you think he just wants his hands on you, and you’re prepared to smack his touch away. But then your perception shifts; a random man bumps into you with a sharp elbow into your arm and he turns around with an angry expression ready to yell. The glare that Toji levels at him leaves the man sputtering and apologizing before he slinks back into the crowd.

Normally, you don’t thrive off blatant displays of masculinity, but the sight of the man running away from Toji’s imposing stare makes your stomach fill with a deep-seated lust that surprises you. Like you’re a cavewoman, watching her caveman beat at his chest when another caveman gets too close to you. Toji grumbles to himself about the sheer number of people, his voice tinged with frustration even though his reassuring touch is gentle as he guides you through the throng of people toward your seats.

Thankfully, they aren’t nosebleeds, and they give you a good view of the field, with players already warming up. There is a large group of kids who hang off the rails, squealing in delight as their favorite players come and say hello and sign their jerseys and footballs. The speakers boom with music and commercial ads, the warm air carries the smell of popcorn up your nose, and your blood pumps in excitement.

It has been a while since you attended a football game, distant memories of sitting on your father’s shoulders as you both cheered in the stands. Since his death, you haven’t had the drive nor the time to attend another. So, to be in this position again with a man you are still trying to understand, it’s odd. But it’s not unwelcome and you’re going to enjoy every minute of it. When you watch football at home with your family, you’re a different person. You are loud and unashamed to express your feelings when you watch the games unfold. You stand up and sneer and bark at the officiant who can’t even hear you. You argue with your family about plays and players who will never know you. You love every emotion that the game brings out in you, and you’re unashamed to hide it. Toji is going to see a side of you that will either push him away or make him slink closer for more.

So, when the game begins with the kickoff, you join in the collective screams of the crowd, waving a towel in the air adorned with the yellow and black of your favorite team that is playing.

To your surprise once more, Toji did his homework. He effortlessly explains the rules as you both watch the first quarter together, looking to you for approval to make sure he’s correct. His attentive nature transforms into active participation as he cheers alongside you, his voice deep and booming compared to your screeching.

In the second quarter, there’s an injury on the field and the clash of pads ceases for long enough that fans leave their seats for food and to stretch their legs. Shiu and Rene disappear to get themselves a drink and it’s just you and Toji in the middle of empty seats.

“You’re a screamer,” he teases, his voice low and appreciative as he leans on his thigh with a cheek resting on his fist. His hair flows in the warm air before settling on pale cheeks.

“Too loud for you?” you retort, even if mildly curious about what he thinks of this side of yourself.

Toji purses his lips as he regards you with relaxed eyes. “It didn’t take me long to realize you’re not a dainty little thing. And besides,” A smile stretches across his face, white teeth glinting with a sinister disposition before his lips load with a remark you know will be salacious. “I like my women loud.”

You can be loud if he wants you to be. Preferably in another place besides your car where he can thrust like a man mad between your legs and dig those gleaming white teeth into the skin of your neck—

Oh.

For fuck’s sake. 

Your blood simmers in your veins at the suggestion in his words. His eyes watch your throat when you swallow a thick pool of spit and that smile grows impossibly larger, a Cheshire cat looking at you with nasty intent. He’s too aware of the effect he has on women, and you have to look away from him to resist succumbing to the seductive charm that he wields naturally.

You steer the conversation back into your hands. “You were so curious about me when we first met but I don’t know much about you. Are you here in America for a reason? What do you do for work?”

In your own line of work, observation is key; every subtle cue from your patients holds significance, revealing layers of truths that they usually try to conceal. So, when you notice the tension in Toji’s jaw at your question, the way his features contort subtly, it’s a detail you slot into a drawer of curiosity that takes part of the file cabinet of Toji in your mind.

“I’m a private investigator,” he confesses harshly, catching you off guard. It’s a revelation you don’t anticipate. His imposing features give you the impression of a firefighter or maybe even a cop. Not someone watching others in his car, bugging houses and apartments, and gathering evidence. A PI? You open that drawer of curiosity again and slot away this information as well. He shrugs away the awkwardness that your silence brings, nonchalant and dismissive, avoiding your gaze. “It pays the bills. The hours suck sometimes but…the work is easy.”

“So…naturally I can’t really ask about the things you do?” you don’t hide the inquisitiveness that coats your words.

“It’s nothing glamorous enough to talk about.” And that’s all he offers you in response.

You have a myriad of questions swirling in your mind, each vying for attention from a man who is as tight-lipped as you. How did he even get into this kind of work? Who are his clients? Cheaters, embezzlers…or criminals?

That and so much more brew in your mind, tumbling over the other but ultimately dissipating when you sense his reluctance, evident from his still-averted gaze and tense shoulders.

“What about family? You asked me about mine, but I never got to hear about yours.”

Granted, you only told him about the members of your family who danced in your backyard when you both were wrapped in one another two weeks ago. He doesn’t know about the more intimate parts of your family life. He doesn’t know about your father’s death, or the estrangement of your stepfamily. But that can come later. Toji hasn’t given you enough of himself.

Toji’s features now morph into disdain, souring the air between you. The bright emerald of his eyes dims with a grayish overcast, the liquid of the irises hardening like cooling lava.

His response is terse, laced with palpable displeasure that intensifies the acrid taste in the air. “There isn’t much to tell. I don’t get along with them, and they do their best to not get along with me either.” The timbre of his voice is lower, menacing enough to let you know it’s a subject he won’t entertain. At least for right now.

You open your mouth to speak again, to maybe apologize for making him uncomfortable, to reassure him that you wouldn’t judge him over something like this. He shifts in his seat, clasps his hands together and absentmindedly picks at a callous on the side of his thumb. The pink flush on his cheeks is not one of bashfulness, but of frustration and embarrassment. From the sliver of his eyes you can see, there is something simmering beneath the surface that might take you a while to unveil.

 “I do have a son, though.” The sentence shoots into the air and down your spine with a chilling clarity, breaking the flow of your thoughts as you blink in astonishment.

Pardon???

Considering he’s a grown man a few years older than you, it’s understandable. But the notion of him being a father never crossed your mind. The concept of children isn’t foreign to you; you see and take care of them every day. It’s the concept of children coming from him that’s a new development you have to consider.

While you believe you can handle a relationship with a single father, you’re upset at being told now, rather than before.

“You were with me all day two weeks ago and you never took the time to mention you have a son?”

You don’t hide your irritation. Once your trust is lost, it’s almost impossible to regain. Why would you give away sacred pieces of yourself to a man you wouldn’t trust to hold those pieces with care?

Despite your frustration, you rationalize.

Maybe Toji was nervous to bring it up? Some people may like to ease into such topics. This relationship, or whatever this is, is brand new and smooth. There haven’t been any cracks caused by arguments or behavior that is damaging.

But this isn’t about having a job that he’s not proud of or admitting that he is not financially responsible. This is about an entire child, a facet of his life that he cannot hide away. How long would he have waited to tell you if the topic of family hadn’t come up so soon? Would he have told you? Would he hide his son away and push him off to a babysitter on date nights so you are never aware? Would he sleep over at your house, so you can’t see the room that’s decorated for a child or the toys scattered about the floor?

As you wrestle with the growing anxiety that crawls across your skin, Toji fumbles for something in his pocket, his face a satisfying beet red as you watch him hand you his open phone. Bright from the illumination of the screen, you take in a picture of a young boy who bears a striking resemblance to Toji. His raven locks spiky and disheveled, his green eyes sharp and ethereal, and he wears a bored and calm expression just like his father. The chubbiness of his cheeks and innocence in his eyes tug at something in your chest; he can’t be any older than six years old. The sight of the boy makes you think of the many kids you take care of every day, and some of the frustration subsides within you.

“His name is Megumi,” he informs you, shy despite his rough exterior. He picks at the callous on the side of his thumb again, and one of his legs begins to shake in place.

The frustration dies down more. It’s a beautiful name, and as you look at the picture, a small smile tugs at your lips. You wonder what kind of a boy he is.

“Fuck listen—just I-I’m shit at this.”

You look up at him and take in the apprehension on his face. His lips are downturned in a gentle frown, the scar on the side of his face warped along with the muscles of his mouth. There’s a sense of shame in his gaze, and it somehow makes you feel relieved to know that he can feel just how upset you are.

“I don’t date women…I fuck them and stay around until they want me gone.” He doesn’t bother to sugarcoat his words. They shoot out of his mouth, piercing your skin with their directness. It’s a little painful, and you struggle to absorb his blatant honesty, feeling flashes of anger and indignation fill your chest as your lips part, ready to respond with directness of your own. “But you’re the first woman in a long fucking time that’s made me want more. So just…” he trails off, stuttering over what to say before ultimately growling low in his throat into silence.

You hesitate, lips flinching and syllables of fury dissipating in the small space between your top and bottom lip. “You gonna let me meet him?” you snap because you’re still mildly irritated as you give him his phone and pinch the muscle of his bicep with a harshness that reflects your fading anger and your desire to see him squirm for his actions.

He swats your hand away as if you’re a pest, moving his arm from you with a sneer that holds no malice. “No let me just lock him in my closet every time I want to see you—of course, I’ll fucking let you meet him.”

You throw him a withering glare, ignoring his sarcasm, and the smirk that slides onto his lips only makes you want to either smack or kiss him. The fact that you can’t decide on which only annoys you more.

*** Toji ***

“Gimme two hot dogs and a pretzel,” Toji mutters to the concession stand attendant. It’s halftime, and the walkways behind the stands are crowded with fans hurrying to go to the bathroom, or for more food and alcohol. You stand close to him, a welcome warmth that he wants more of but refuses to ask for on the off chance you deny him. He doesn’t feel like pouting for the rest of the day.

“And what’ll it be for the lady?” the attendant asks with a level of humor that is off-putting, a smile on his face that Toji knows you itch to smack off.

“It is for the lady,” you correct, a hint of condescension falling from plush lips that you still won’t let him taste. The attendant sputters, his face red as a tomato as he takes the rest of Toji’s order, doing his best to ignore the deadly glare you shoot him as he counts Toji’s money. A snort rattles from Toji’s chest as he watches you. He’s known from the beginning that you’re fiery, but seeing it firsthand fascinates and arouses him at the same time.

This environment is different for him, odd in every way, and a foreign ground that he’s unsteady on. The celebratory atmosphere reminds him of the loud laughter and fireworks from festivals that he could hear outside the Zenin compound throughout the year. He thinks of the Tanabata festivals he never got to experience or the years of Hanami that he was forbidden to enjoy. He could only take a small bit of pleasure in cherry blossoms in the Zenin gardens, blooming and scattering their petals on the well-kept grass to mark the beginning of the season. As a child, he was never allowed much. He was seen as ‘inferior trash’ that was insignificant and unworthy to be looked at let alone talked to unless it was to yell or belittle. Naturally, his family didn’t want others to see where said trash came from if they could help it.

He can’t think about it right now—he won’t. The thought of his family brings a tight coil of pain and anger in his chest, a coil he had used as fuel to cope with his dangerous decisions.

There’s so much more that he needs to focus on, like the fact that you’ve already taken a big bite out of one of your hot dogs. Half of it has disappeared from your hand, and there’s ketchup on the edge of your mouth as you chew. He notices the way you shift your hips from side to side in your seat, and the satisfied hum that escapes your throat. You’re satisfied, and while you eat with manners, you don’t hide your boisterous enjoyment, finishing one hot dog and moving on to the next, your pretzel wedged between the meat of your seductive thighs.

He’s been trying to be respectful all day ever since you denied him a kiss in the kitchen, but you’re tempting him. When you answered the door earlier in the afternoon, the hand that was in his pocket pinched the side of his thigh until the shameless thoughts could fade away.

You’ve graced his presence with shorts and a jersey, a yellow and black number that lays against your chocolate skin in a way that still seems to make you glow in the setting sun. No braids this time, your natural curls have fallen from your bun after screaming so much, framing your face and causing your gold hoops to wink at him. You didn’t wear makeup that night when he met you, so the sight of eyeliner on you today, and the way it accentuates the curve of your eye and the heaviness of your long lashes, it makes him shift in his seat.

He’s had to clench his jaw and bear the pain of his teeth grinding against each other to stop himself from ogling at the mouth-watering canvas of your legs. You’re all curves with dimples at the bottom of your thighs when you sit, and his gums ache to sink into the flesh so you can squeal and beg for him to touch you where you want it most. It’s been weeks since that night and he’s feigning for more. When you smile at him or shoot him a glare, it reminds him of that commanding aura you had in the backseat of your truck, and the back of his neck prickles with sweat.

While the thought of you skinning him alive if he decides to be a Neanderthal turns him on, he wants to be civil. In your kitchen earlier today, you allowed him to get close enough to feel the heat radiating from your skin, to catch the scent of coconut from your curls, tantalizing his senses until your firm ‘no’ sobered him up immediately. It was a stark reminder of who you are, and how little you tolerate.

He'll behave.

His eyes catch you guzzling down five heaping gulps of your beer, the foam coating your upper lip. You wipe it away with your finger, sucking the digit into your mouth, and popping it out completely oblivious to how sinful you look and Toji’s catapulted into that day when you sucked your own cum off his fingers.

He has to behave.

The vibration of his phone in his pocket sours his mood immediately, turning his gaze from your form as he digs into his pocket. It’s the third time it’s buzzed today, and he knows who it is. No matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he can only put off his job for so long.

Unknown: Good job on the assignment last week. 

Unknown: Your pay should be in your account by tonight.

Unknown: There’s another contract for you if you’re interested. Message me back and I’ll send you details.

“Everything okay?” Your voice pulls him from his phone, and he meets your curious gaze, one of your elegant eyebrows lifting in question as you assess him. “Something with work?”

“Yea,” he replies and regrets it immediately.

Lie #1

It’s not a complete lie—it is work—but the details…

Toji takes a long swig of his beer, attempting to soothe the shame that washes over him.

You really are a screamer.

Toji sits back in his seat, watching you with a wicked smile as you unleash a torrent of colorful language that makes his cock twitch. Even though you roar with the crowd, your voice rises higher.

“That’s a fucking flag! I should come down there and officiate for you instead you stupid piece of shit!”

Your curls brush the skin of your cheeks that puff in your frustration, your arms folding across your chest as you cock your hip and growl beneath your breath. You’re easily the loudest one in this section of the stands. Rene revels in it, egging you on by rooting for the opposite team and giggling when you bark at her. Shiu is content to watch the display, a fresh toothpick in his mouth and an arm over Rene’s shoulders as he idly twirls a lock of hair at her nape. You’re all yelling and sputtering indignation as you watch the game unfold, your team losing by what Toji has learned is a touchdown.

He knew this side of you was there. He could tell in the weight of your gaze that night. It's a side of you that he did not expect to see so soon. He soaks it in. He takes in the way you cuss out the man three rows down who won’t stop glaring at you. He absorbs how high-pitched the screech of your voice makes his eardrums shake, and he revels in the smile that forms on your lips when your team scores the game-winning touchdown.

When there are lulls in the game, you tell him about your career. You’re a pulmonary pediatric fellow at a hospital here in town that’s only a year and a half from completing your fellowship. You smile when you talk about the kids you take care of and your associates at work. You’re proud of your research and of how far you’ve come.

All of it, every part of you that you show him, is comforting. Warm despite how cold you appear. It’s a comfort he didn’t imagine having…ever in his life—especially a dreary life like his. But he soaks up this—you—as much as he can.

When the game is over, you’re elated and giggling, tucked into his side as he guides you through the drunken crowd. The moon is high in the sky, and it bathes your skin and makes you stand out in the crowd. You look up at him, smiling softly with a buzzed gaze that’s two beers deep.

“Did you have fun? Not bad for your first American game?”

“You screamed the entire time,” he teases, chuckling at the way you gape up at him and then sneer before turning away. He throws his arm around your shoulders, using the touch as a safe territory to keep his hands to himself, and pulls you closer.

You demand cotton candy which he indulges in as well before you both part ways with Rene and Shiu. The journey back to your apartment is a quiet one. As Toji drives, the warm July air fills the car, mingling with the faint strains of classic rock playing on the radio. Toji watches with flickering glances as you hum along, your eyes closed and the breeze wafting through your curls loose around your shoulders.

Something inside of him rattles. Whatever it is, it’s long-forgotten and buried deep within him, surrounded by cobwebs and dust that have accumulated over time since that dark day years ago.

*** You ***

From the short journey of his car to inside of your apartment, you repeat to yourself that you have to take this slow, for your own peace of mind.

You keep the most intimate parts of yourself locked away and only those who are worthy of you have a copy of the key. But somehow, and in such a short time, Toji has stolen a copy for himself and slotted the key into the door. But thankfully, the door is caught against the wall, hinges rusted over and ungiving.

You have to know more about him before you let him in to look at those parts of you. If you jump the gun and give him more so soon and end up hurt, it will throw you into a depth of pain that you promised yourself to never touch again if you could help it.

“You have a good time?”

Toji’s voice breaks the silence, his arms folding tightly across his chest, betraying the restlessness in his hands. His messy black locks, tousled by the late July humidity, partially hide his emerald gaze, which flickers briefly to meet your own before darting away.

Your socked feet pad across the hardwood floor, closing the space between you, and your head slowly tilts to look at him. Despite his façade of composure, his scar curves against his lips in a slight twist, twitching as he tries not to frown. Thin eyebrows pitch down in frustration, and you catch the way his fingertips drum against the skin of his biceps. He’s fidgety—nervous. Is he upset with himself? Ashamed that he couldn’t take you out on a proper date with dinner and a movie like everyone else expects?

Hopefully, he will learn that you go against the grain of proper in so many ways.

“I had a great time,” you confess softly, noticing the subtle relaxation in his stance at your words. The thrumming of his fingers stop, the tension in his shoulder fades. “You wanted to take me out and I let you. That all you want from me?”

He’s such an expressive man.

His face twists, perturbed by your bluntness and the prospect of delving into emotional territory. “I told you already that I want more.”

His declaration sends a fluttering through your heart that is reminiscent of the feeling you had when he surprised you with a slice of yellow cake. It’s comforting, and you want to lean into it. But it’s not enough to overwhelm you. You’re still in your right mind and still aware of your expectations even though he captivates you.

You press your finger into the firmness of his chest, hard so that the muscle pillows around your digit. The gaze you shoot up at him is unyielding, serious, and menacing enough that he straightens his spine just a little.

“Listen to me, because I’m only going to say this one more time. I don’t do situationships. I don’t do friends with benefits or the occasional hookup. I’m not saying things need to be serious with us but…you need to show me that you mean it.”

As you speak, you assess Toji, who shows no signs of amusement or ignorance. His posture is rigid, his back ramrod straight, and his deep green gaze locked onto yours.

“That night we had was great. I won’t deny that but…I won’t compromise my expectations and I don’t tolerate bullshit. I’m not going to let you fuck me just because we did it before. You want more? I want you to try. Earn me.”

You relish in the way his eyes widen, contemplating your words and the severity beneath them before his face smooths back into its usual cool demeanor. He unfolds his arms from his chest, and you curse inwardly at the way you immediately watch his shirt stretch across defined pectorals.

“You know you’re a feisty little thing.”

Heat from the way he speaks and annoyance at his lack of attention flare within you like wildfire. You open your mouth to yell, to bark at him to be serious, but the sound of his laughter extinguishes that fire inside of you instantly.

He doesn’t offer an apology for his comment and you don’t need one. You know you’re feisty and steadfast. It’s the only way you can function around men to survive, to stay afloat and still have a grasp of who you are. And if Toji couldn’t handle it, you definitely wouldn’t have slept with him or entertained a date that you thoroughly enjoyed.

“I’ll try,” he finally offers, voice soft but filled with conviction. Normally the small remark would offend you, but surprisingly coming from Toji, it’s enough.

Observing his behavior today and a little bit two weeks ago, you note his acceptance of your quirks and individuality—at least the bits you allow him to see. He marveled at the amount of food you ate and joined alongside you. He let you babble to him about every single player on your favorite team and how many championships they had won. He let you display your strength in your voice and personality, didn’t try to control or overshadow you like so many other past experiences you’ve had before learning how to rule the men in your life.

He let you be yourself.

And that thought makes you finally open your mouth to give him something he had asked for earlier, something you had previously denied despite your own desires.

“You can have your kiss,” you offer with a shrug, feigning nonchalance even though your heart picks up in speed as the implication registers on his face. “So you better do it right.”

It’s an invitation that he snatches away from your imaginary hands and tears open with thick fingers, greedy and growling with finality.

His sharp gaze traces the contours of your body, unabashed in its appraisal, leering at the pieces of skin visible to him. You know he’s been looking at you all day, but his observation now is intense, heavy and without reservation and you’re fumbling from the sudden rush of longing that pumps hot through your veins.

Toji inches closer, your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, his towering presence overwhelming your small stature. His height ignites an evolutionary desire in you that makes your mouth water, makes your cunt pulse with need beckoning for him to fill the mold he left inside two weeks ago. You’re still not used to climbing up the summit of him, so the air is thin once more, pulling the oxygen from your lungs and stuttering in your chest when a large hand cups the side of your neck and tilts your face up to him like an offering.

When his lips slide against yours, your fingers in his shirt tighten. His touch singes the ends of your nerves, boils the blood in your veins that pump fast throughout your body. Your skin is burning, searing when muscular arms hoist you up and wrap your legs around his thick waist before your ass is sliding on the cold marble of your kitchen counter, your lips still sealed against his.

There’s so much of this that feels like that night at your uncle’s. So much and yet not enough.

He drowns you with his touch, digs his fingers into the plump flesh of your thighs before yanking you, hard and with unforgiving impatience, closer to his body. The fabric of your jeans rubs too harsh against your wet panties, digs against the sensitivity of your clit and you repress the insatiable yearning to roll your hips against his.

Toji’s large hands slide up your body, traversing the mesh of your jersey that hugs you before cupping each side of your face again to tilt you sharper in the way he wants. Blue raspberry from the cotton candy you both indulged in after the game coats his tongue that licks your bottom lip in a silent request for entrance, and you grant him access, surrendering a whimper into his mouth as his tongue slides sinfully against yours. Tastebuds kiss your own, slide against them with whispered promise of satisfaction if you just relax and melt further into him. Just a little.

But you can’t, god you can’t.

You’re losing control and you have to stay strong. You have to stay above the waters of logical thinking even though you’re sinking with every stroke of his tongue, with every sweet, hot breath into your mouth, with every inch of flesh that your fingers dig into his chest because you need more. More than a kiss, more than what he’s offering, and you know he can give it to you. Toji can pull you into the inferno he’s raging inside of your body until your clothes are scorched off and his skin is sliding against yours sweaty, sticky, and undulating with every roll of his hips.

But he doesn’t give you more. He doesn’t pull you further into that fire.

The intensity of his kiss dies down slowly, his lips pulling away from yours with a wet smack as you pant along with him. Toji kisses your lips once, then twice, nips your bottom lip to seal everything he’s given before smirking down at you. Too devilish and arrogant and you don’t have a working brain cell in your head right now to correct him. His hands that cradle your cheeks slide down to your upper arms, giving them a gentle squeeze before he speaks.

“You still gonna let me be nice to you?”

His words are an echo of that night, his own way of telling you that he’s here. That he wants more—that he wants to give you more. You just have to let him.

With your head still swimming and the pulsing between your legs refusing to calm, you want him to be more than nice right now. But remembering the boundaries you have set, you nod instead and sigh into him when he kisses you one last time, sweeping his blue raspberry-flavored tongue against yours before pulling away, acting as though it’s nothing, as though you’re not sweaty at the small of your back and trembling with desire.

“Lock the door for me,” he commands, words devoid of a questioning tone, but filled with a sense of security and protection that you lean into.

“O-okay,” you manage to breathe, your heart slowing back into sinus rhythm, only to jump again as he places one final kiss on your lips, then your nose. You frantically bat him away before you lose consciousness, because any more and you’ll drag him into your room and disregard everything you said five minutes ago.

 You watch him saunter away, pull his keys from his pocket, and twirl them in his hand before winking. “I’ll text you.”

It sounds so ridiculous coming from his lips, from a grown man who looks as if he doesn’t even know what a cellphone is, let alone a text message.

But it still makes your heart jump all the same.

You can only nod in response because your throat is too dry and heavy in the back of your throat with each swallow you take. You follow him to the door and roll your eyes at his annoying smirk before he closes the door behind him, casting your apartment into silence.

Your fingers wobble as they turn the locks of your door into place. You’re lightheaded, brain flitting through salacious memories of what you both did weeks ago and what you could easily be doing now.

You throw your back against the door and sag to the floor with an annoyed sigh.

*** Toji ***

Unknown: There’s another contract for you if you’re interested. Message me back and I’ll send you details.

Toji: I’m interested. Send me what you have.

[the-centennial-husbands-bigbang]

We are happy to introduce you all to the Centennial Husbands' Big Bang!

We wish you a warm welcome to the Centennial Husbands Big Bang!

This is a Big Bang challenge focused around all things Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) from the Sandman comics and show, brought to you by the @mr-sadman Modteam!

Without further adue, here are all of the details!!

Our stance on plagiarism and AI 

We do not accept nor condone the use of plagiarism, including the use of AI, whether in writing or art. If you are caught using either, you will be disqualified from the current event and barred entry for the other events the Mr. Sadman team puts forward.

General Rules and Informations

Anyone is welcome to participate! 

Fear you can’t make it yet? Sign-ups for pinch-hitters will be open later during the event!

You can sign up both as an artist and a writer!! That said, we do not want you to bite more than you can chew, be careful and conscious of the event’s schedule!

Joining the Mr. Sadman discord is strongly advised, as there will be event related channels and roles available, but not required. Please make sure to give us another reliable and quick way to get a hold of you in the case that you don’t join the server/don’t use discord often!

If you are under the age of 18, you will not be able to create explicit content for the event. As a general rule, Mr. Sadman is a 16+ server, be aware of this fact!

The Mr. Sadman Modteam is a firm believer of “ship and let ship” as well as the kinktomato (https://fanlore.org/wiki/Kinktomato). As such, and in accordance with the Server’s existing rules, we will not tolerate any discrimination and harassment in any forms whatsoever. This includes : queerphobia, homophobia, racism, content policing, hate speech, doxxing, shaming, etc. 

What’s a Big Bang?

What’s a Big Bang?

Glad you asked! This is a challenge where writers come up with a 15k+ words fic and get paired with a just-as-enthusiastic artist that accompanies their written work with a piece of art! A detailed schedule spanning around 4 months will be available down this post, fear not! 

15k is a lot of words, is there any other way that, as a writer, I can participate?

There is! We are offering a beta-reader partnering system as well as a Mini Bang!

What’s a Mini Bang?

This is a challenge similar to a Big Bang where you write a piece under 15k words! Do note that the Mini Bang does not come with art like the Big Bang does!

Why does the Mini Bang don’t include art?

This is the less stressful option for writers who still want to participate in the event! Less stress for the writers and none for the artists! That said, this might be revised if an important number of artists sign up!

I don’t think my Big Bang fic is gonna reach 15k, can I downgrade to the Mini Bang?

Yes! You will be able to downgrade until December 2nd, a few weeks before drafts are due and artist pairing starts!

I think my Mini Bang fic is gonna be longer than 15k, can I upgrade to the Big Bang?

Yes! You will be able to upgrade until December 2nd, a few weeks before drafts are due and artist pairing starts!

Rules and requirements

For Writers

What are the requirements for my fic? 

Your fic must be an unpublished, completely new work! It needs to be able to stand on its own (meaning that sequels and crossovers/fusions are allowed, but your fic must be able to be read on its own!) and must meet the minimum word count requirement, which is  15k words. It is also strongly recommended for no parts of your work to have been already published elsewhere (even small snippets)!

It is also mandatory that you keep your work a secret - this is to assure an anonymous art claim process and is very important. If you talk about your work in any public way (this includes our discord server), your violation will be discussed amongst the mod team and could result in potential removal from the event!

Does it have to focus on a romantic pairing?

Not at all! Your fic can be platonic, romantic, neither or all of the above, as long as it focuses on the relationship between Dream and Hob!

Does my fic have to be beta-read?

While it is not mandatory, we strongly encourage you to use a beta reader during your writing process! Don’t have a beta reader already? We offer a beta-reader pairing system! Just make sure to fill in the appropriate section in the sign-up form to indicate that you are in need of betaing!

My friend and I want to co-author a fic, is that alright?

Hell yeah! We love collaboration! Simply make sure to indicate it on each of your sign-up forms (meaning that each one of you needs to fill a form)!! The word count requirement is still 15k (even if you are one, two, three or more, yes!) and keep in mind, though, that you will not receive more art because there are more authors!

Can I have a secondary pairing in my fic?

Yes! As long as the focus of your fic is Dream/Hob, go ham!

Can I write threesomes, foursomes, polycules?

Yes! As long as the focus of your fic is Dream/Hob, please do!!

Can I write RPF (Tom Sturridge/Ferdinand Kingsley)?

Yes! 

What can’t I write, then?

Anything is fair game as long as it is properly tagged and/or warned for! Major content warnings (such as AO3 dictates) must also be applied properly! There is only one exception to this : work depicting real life children (such as the actors’), which is not allowed.

What if I have a fic that I’ve been working on but never posted?

You can totally use it! As long as your work remains unpublished, it’s fair game!

Can I write something for NaNoWriMo and use it as my submission?

Hell yeah!! As long as it’s unpublished and meets the word requirements!!

I’m so excited for this event that I want to write two fics, is that all right?

We never say no to more cake! Please do keep in mind that you’ll still have to respect the schedule for both works at the same time!

As the author, do I have a say in what my paired artist creates?

In short : no. While we do encourage collaboration, this is not a commission process. The artist has free reign on what they want to create that is inspired by your fic. If you can write what you want, then your artist can create what they want!

Can I already pair up with an artist friend?

Absolutely! Just make sure you tell us in the sign up form!

I don’t like my paired artist and/or what my artist has created.

While this is unfortunate, your artist has spent their own energy and free time to create their piece. To dismiss them and their efforts is plain rude. The mods will not step in and give you another artist simply because you are not pleased with your match. Your artist deserves your thanks, not your ire. 

What are authors check-ins?

Be not afraid! These are mostly touch points for the modteam to make sure everyone is still on board and on schedule! That said, these are mandatory! Failure to respond to check-ins will disqualify you from participating in the current event.

What if I can’t meet a deadline?

Please make sure to inform a mod as soon as you know! Accommodations might be worked out depending on the situation. We simply ask you to be considerate to your fellow artists, it is unfair to them to back out as they had already started working on their pieces!

Where do I post my fic?

We ask you to post your story to the AO3 collection! You are free, after that, to post it anywhere else you’d like and/or prefer! There, you will also be able to embed and link to your artist’s piece(s)!

For Artists

What kind of art can I make?

Anything from traditional or digital drawing, to photomanips, fanvids, podfics, songwriting, book binding and more! We only ask you to put some effort into it, after all, your author has worked hard on their piece as well! 

A few exceptions include : playlists, icons and banners. These, while being a nice and fun bonus for your author, can’t be counted as your primary piece!

How much art do I have to make? 

You are required to make one piece of art! But if you are inspired, more are definitely welcome!

What are the minimum requirements for my art?

A minimum of 500px by 500px piece for visual pieces. A minimum of 2 minutes for digital pieces. 

*If your art doesn’t fit within these parameters, an agreement can be reached between mod, author and artist as to what could be considered equivalent/sufficient. 

How will I be able to claim a fic?

Art claims will be held from January 6th to 10th to give authors the time to complete a first draft as well as send in a summary of their work. We ask you to be readily available to answer messages during that time period as the process will be held on a “first come first served” basis. You will receive a link to the claiming form at the beginning of this period. 

Can I already pair up with a writer friend?

Absolutely! Just make sure to tell us in the signing up form!

How do I get in touch with my writer?

Fear not, the mods will place you in contact with your partner once pairing is done!

What are artists’ check-ins?

Be not afraid! These are mostly touch points for the modteam to make sure everyone is still on board and on schedule! That said, these are mandatory! Failure to respond to check-ins will disqualify you from participating in the current event.

What if I can’t meet a deadline?

Please make sure to inform a mod as soon as you know! Accommodations might be worked out depending on the situation. We simply ask you to be considerate to your fellow writers, it is unfair to them to back out as they had already started working on their pieces!

Where do I post my art?

From your designated host (whether that’s tumblr, pillowfort, etc.) so that it can be embedded into AO3! We simply ask you to use the relevant tags and link back to your writer’s story!

I’m not a writer nor an artist, but I wish to help. What can I do?

You are very welcome to join us as a beta reader! Every author has different betaing needs, but betaing ranges from cheering your author on, to making sure their grammar and spelling is tip-top! This is an event-long commitment, so make sure you know this before signing up! You are also very welcome to share any relevant information about the Big Bang and join us on Mr. Sadman for all things Sandman!!

Event Schedule

Sign-ups : September 18th to October 21rst First Check-in : October 28th Second Check-in : November 18th Upgrade/Downgrade for Mini Bang/Big Bang : December 2nd Third Check-in/First Draft+Summary due : December 22nd Holiday Pause : December 23rd to January 3rd Art claims : January 6th-10th Art Pairings Masterpost : January 11th Pinch-hitter Signups : January 29th to February 2nd Fourth Check-in : February 3rd  Pinch-hitter post : February 4th Final draft : February 25th Posting dates : March 1rst to 3rd

I want to Sign Up!!

You can fill the form and sign up here : https://forms.gle/2RwZrPNxs4Y95oLS9

I need help, how do I reach a mod?

If there is something that is not covered by our rules masterpost and/or FAQ, you are very free to DM us here, on tumblr!

We are also available on email at mrsadmandiscord@gmail.com and on discord at Mr. Sadman

That said, the dedicated mods for this event are Winter, Aria, Ches and Britt!

Have fun and keep the Dreamling on!!