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macverse · 2 months
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[gasps for an eternity]
I gotta read this! Why did no one say there is Steve Rogers vampire fic!?!?
Welcome to Your Life
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Pairing: dark vampire!Steve Rogers x f!reader
Word Count: ~3.75k
Summary: During a drunken night out on vacation, you're brought to a strange club and presented to a mysterious man. Part of Everybody Wants to Rule the World
Warnings: Horror elements, dark elements, mind control, some blood and gore, feeding on humans, captivity, dub/con, SMUT - All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Divider by @saradika
We're All Monsters
Masterlist
A/N: And here it is, the first part of Vampire Steve's solo story! If you missed his introduction, it was in I Can't Sleep Cause My Bed's On Fire. You don't need to read that before you read this, but some of the world-building (specifically how his club works) might be helpful. Plus, it's a vampire threesome, so 🥵🥵🥵
This is also the first part of the new, super-expanded supernatural universe that I'm doing with @paperweight91, playing off of what I started with my Psycho Killer AU. Big thanks to Chelsea for all her help on this and for just how much fun it's been to come up with ideas with her for this whole universe.
Now, where it might get slightly confusing, but I really hope it doesn't. This story introduces a new character, Cutter, who will eventually be a reader in one of Chelsea's stories in her werewolf half of this au. She is not physically described at all here, other than being a woman. I hope it gets you excited about what @paperweight91 has in store for her.
As always, any comments, reblogs, or asks are very appreciated. You know how much I love this Steve. Please come screech with me about him!!!
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You were shaking. That was the only thing you knew. You didn’t know where you were or what you were doing there. Not even how you’d gotten there, just that you were standing in the back room of some club, surrounded by people—were they people? Of course, they were. What else could they be?!—unable to move, and you couldn’t stop shaking.
You’d been on vacation with some friends in Berlin. You’d all decided to have a wild night out together but were quickly separated. While tipsily searching for them at a club, you’d bumped into a man, an American, who told you his name was Cole. And suddenly, looking for your friends didn’t seem as important. He’d told you he knew a great bar just a few blocks away. You didn’t really remember agreeing to go with him, but now you were here, in a room full of strangers who wouldn’t stop leering at you. No one had done anything or even said anything, but you knew in your bones that you were not safe. And yet, you couldn’t move.
Cole, especially, wouldn’t take his eyes off you, your neck in particular. You desperately wished for something to cover up your club attire. A woman was leaning against the wall in the corner, sharpening her ridiculously long nails with a knife. She looked up occasionally, and this time her gaze landed on Cole, a scowl on her face. “You know he gets first taste,” she said, before looking back down in disinterest.
“I know,” he said, his fingers drumming impatiently on his thigh.
“Everything has to get his approval before it goes on the menu,” she continued, still not looking up as she filed her nails to a terrifying point. 
“Yes,” Cole gritted out, “I know that, Cutter. I’m not fucking new.”
“Then stop acting like you’re jonesing for your next fix. You’re that fucking hungry? Go get yourself something to eat that actually is on the menu.” Nothing they were saying made any sense. 
He scowled at her, but started to leave the room, and then, suddenly, stopped. Everyone stopped. Cutter looked up, listening for something, then pushed herself off the wall and made her way over to you. She brushed one of her exceedingly sharp nails over your bottom lip. Looking you in the eye, she breathed, “Kneel, sweetheart.” And you were on your knees before you had any idea what had happened. She smiled at you and added, “Be quiet,” and you knew, in every cell, that you wouldn’t have been able to make any noise if you’d tried. 
One of the doors opened and a tall, broad, beautiful man came into the room and you felt the energy of everything change. It was like it was all, yourself included, suddenly charged with electricity. You’d never felt anything like it. He zeroed in on you instantly and made his way over. You felt the instinct to cower, but it was far away, almost like it was behind a wall. And you still couldn’t move anyway. All you could do was shiver.
The man looked at you carefully. “Pretty,” he said, absently. He brushed his thumb over your lower lip just like Cutter had. Then he gripped your chin and angled it up so you were forced to make eye contact. “Give me your wrist,” he said and you couldn’t explain the feeling that moved through your body, only that you reached your wrist up to him, you had to, and waited for him to take it. He took it in his firm grip and placed his thumb right over your pulse point. He pressed down hard and smiled when you still didn’t move, didn’t react. It was like you didn’t know how. And then, something happened, so quickly you couldn’t process it. Fangs descended into his mouth and he lowered his head to your wrist and bit down hard. It was some of the worst pain you’d ever felt, but you didn’t pull away, didn’t make a sound. It wasn’t until you felt the wetness on your cheeks that you even realized you were crying. It was like all the different parts of you were separated. 
He pulled his teeth from your wrist and then licked the wound clean. He grinned at you and said, “You have excellent taste in cocktails, honey.” Then he looked over at Cutter and his smile dropped. “She’s still drunk. You should have known better.”
Her mouth fell open, and then she flung her hand out at Cole who stood sheepishly on the other side of the room. “Cole’s the one who brought her in!”
He was in front of her in a blink, the arm that was still in the air now in his firm grasp. She grimaced. “And you know exactly how good his judgment is,” he growled.
“Steve,” she whispered, just barely loud enough for you to hear her.
The man (could you even call him that? Deep down you knew what he was), Steve, brought his face as close to hers as possible. “When I put you in charge,” he said, so lowly, “I expect you to be in charge.”
She just stared at him for a moment meeting his gaze, then dropped her own and nodded. He smiled fondly, you were surprised to see, and kissed her on the cheek. “You know he needs supervision.”
He made his way back to where you were still kneeling, now cradling your arm. He bent down to you slightly and stroked a hand down your neck. “There’s something there, though,” he said, although you weren’t sure who he was talking to. Certainly not to you. “Underneath everything else. I’ll try her again tomorrow and see how she is when the blood’s pure.”
You gazed up at him, confused, and he gripped your chin in his hand. “You may speak,” he said.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” was all you could manage.
“Oh honey, of course, you don’t,” he said with a grin that frightened you. “The good news is that you’ll never need to understand anything ever again.” He looked back up at the room at large. “Set her up in a room upstairs.” He released your chin and made his way to the exit, pausing as he was almost out the door to call “Cole!” over his shoulder. The other man quickly followed him out of the room.
Cutter came to stand in front of you. She looked you in the eye and said, “Up,” and without thinking, you were on your feet. “Such a good girl,” she cooed. “Follow me,” and suddenly that was all you wanted to do.
The room she took you to was better described as a cell. There was a cot, a toilet, and a sink. No windows. Painted grey. It was tiny. Cutter left as soon as you were inside and you heard the door lock behind her. 
You sat down on the bed and closed your eyes. You felt the urge to panic but it was like your body wouldn’t cooperate. Your heart rate stayed steady, your breaths even. You were calm, even if that was the last thing you wanted to be. 
These people must have done something to you. People, right. You knew what they were. Every single one of them had stared at your neck. Steve had fangs and he’d literally drank your blood. You knew, even if an hour ago you would’ve sworn that was just fantasy. Vampires. You were being held captive by vampires. What the hell?
There was nothing to occupy your time in here except for your thoughts, so you curled up on the cot and tried to convince yourself that it was all a bizarre dream. Eventually, your exhaustion overtook you and you fell asleep. 
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You weren’t sure when exactly you woke up. You hadn’t seen a single window since Cole had brought you into the building last night. Because sunlight kills vampires, you thought to yourself, somewhat hysterically. Your memories of the night before were… weird. And not just because you swear someone drank your blood. They were patchy. And yes, you’d been drunk, but not that drunk. Not so drunk that you blacked out small portions of the night. And certainly not so drunk that you hallucinated vampires. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. There was no way out of the cell. Nothing in it that would help you. All you could do was wait for whatever it was that was coming for you.
Sometime later, hours probably, a slit in the door you hadn’t noticed before was opened, and a tray was slid through. Food. You gathered it quickly and sat on the bed. There was a carton of water and a plate with a large salad that was mostly made up of spinach and lentils. Iron-rich food, your mind supplied. The previous night seemed more and more real.
.You thought about refusing the salad, but you were so hungry, so you ate it. It was surprisingly good, but not what you would have chosen for what would probably be your last meal. You lay back down when you were finished, curled up on your side, and daydreamed of something more satisfying than a spinach salad. 
More time passed. You stared at the walls and tried not to freak out. You wondered if your friends had made it back to the hotel. How long it took for them to realize you were missing. Were the police searching for you? Did your family know? You couldn’t help it when the tears started. You were pretty sure you were going to die here.
You dozed in and out for who knows how long. And then the door opened. Steve walked in with Cole behind him, carrying a chair. You jolted up and pressed yourself into the wall. “Stop,” Steve said, and everything did. “Calm down,” and you felt everything in your body slow. Suddenly, you couldn’t access whatever it was that you’d been so scared of. So you sat still and watched him. 
Cole handed Steve the chair and he placed it in front of your cot. He sat down and looked at you. His gaze made you feel so small. He reached out his hand and brushed the backs of his fingers against your knee. A chill ran up your spine, not just fear, but an excitement too, that you couldn’t explain. “Give me your other wrist,” he said, lowly, and you immediately did. He took it in his hand and brought it up to his nose, forcing you to lean forward. He inhaled deeply. “Much better,” he said. “You’re all sobered up now, aren’t you?”
You didn’t respond. You knew, deep inside yourself, that he didn’t want you to. His fangs dropped and you braced yourself, something in the far recesses of your mind knowing that you should be scared. With a slight grin, he sank his teeth into your wrist. The pain was just as bad as the night before but soon, so much quicker than the last time, it was over and Steve was pulling away, his eyes still locked on you.
“Shit,” he breathed.
“What?” Cole asked, from his place by the door. “She’s that bad?”
“No,” Steve growled. “She tastes like sunshine.” He stood up and leaned over you, running the back of one finger across your cheek. “Precious thing.”
You looked up at him and blinked. “Please,” you said, “please, I want to go home.”
“No, honey,” he cooed, so gently, “you’ll never go home again.” As you tried to process that through the fog, he turned to Cole. “Put her in my private reserves. I’ll have her for dinner.” And then he was out of the room.
Cole looked at you, a pout on his face. “Goddamnit,” he grumbled, “I’ve been waiting for a taste.”
“You’re gonna bite me, too?” you asked, alarmed.
He sighed. “Not anymore. I’d rather not face the true death, thanks.” He looked you in the eye. “Come with me.” 
You felt something move through you at that. There was definitely a strong urge to obey that you wouldn’t resist, but it was nothing like what you felt with Steve, or even Cutter, where it was like your body was on strings. It wasn’t a huge weakness, but you were taking note of everything at this point. 
Cole took you through a long series of hallways that you couldn’t hope to keep track of. Cole talked the whole way, mostly inane bits about his frustrations with the pecking order in whatever vampire organization this was. You marveled for a moment at the fact that you were describing something to do with mythical monsters as inane. Finally, just as you arrived at a door not dissimilar to the one you’d just come out of, he concluded with “You’re a really good listener.”
You gaped at him. What did he think was happening here? He’d targeted you, done something to you to bring you here where you were trapped and probably going to die and he thought you cared that he didn’t feel respected enough by his fellow monsters???
But staying alive right now was your primary concern, so you just quietly said, “Thank you,” and let him show you into the room. 
It was much bigger than the cell, but still small, along the lines of a spacious walk-in closet. There was a plush rug under your feet, a deep rose color. A four-poster bed was to one side covered in a big, fluffy comforter that was in a lighter shade of dusty pink and piled with pillows to match. The far wall was entirely made of mahogany built-in bookcases that were completely full of books. There was a soft-looking armchair in the corner by the shelves. You turned back to Cole and asked, “What is this?”
“It’s your room,” he said with a smile. He looked you in the eye. “Now,” he said, and you felt his words travel through your body. He pointed at a door without breaking eye contact, “that’s your bathroom. You’re going to use it now to get very clean and smooth. There are lotions you’ll use after to make yourself soft. There are things in there,” he pointed to a beautiful armoire in the corner, “for you to change into when you’re done. Steve will be back in a few hours and you will be ready for him. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” you said, your voice coming out of you without any conscious thought or effort, “I’ll be ready for Steve.”
“Good girl,” he said, and gently patted your cheek. He stood awkwardly, watching you, but now that the command was in you, you were focused on getting to the bathroom so you could get clean. He was in your way.
“I have to get ready for Steve,” you told him, your voice sounding oddly robotic to your own ears.
Cole blinked at you and then sighed. “Right,” he said, sounding almost forlorn. He stared at you again and then shook his head. “I’ll see you again soon,” he said, stroking one hand down your arm. And then he finally left.
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It was the most luxurious shower of your life. 
When you came out of the bathroom, clean, smooth, and more moisturized than you’d ever been, you opened the armoire to find a small collection of slips in different sizes hanging in it. You found the one that would fit you best and put it on. It was black, a combination of silk and lace. It felt expensive against your skin. You searched the drawers, and next to a collection of silk briefs, you found a pair of black lace panties that would work for you. 
Once you were dressed (or as dressed as you were going to be with what was available), you moved to the bookshelves. They were chock full of every genre and category you could think of. Vaunted classics next to dime store romances. Shakespeare collections and airport schlock. You ran your fingers across the spines, when, suddenly, from behind you– 
“If there’s something you particularly enjoy, let me know and I’ll have someone get it for you.” 
You spun around to find Steve just inches from you. You hadn’t heard a noise when he’d come in. There was a coldness emanating from him that made goosebumps rise along your flesh. Your breath caught and he grinned. You inhaled and asked, “You aren’t going to kill me?”
He laughed. “Oh no, Sunshine. You’re too delicious. I’m going to be feeding from you for a long, long time.”
You tried to back up, but the wall of bookcases blocked you. You pressed yourself into it anyway. He opened his mouth and you hurried to say “Please don’t make me calm down!”
His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to the side. “Explain,” he commanded and you were obeying before you even registered the word.
“I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I feel it when you tell me to do things. And I– I don’t know. I don’t know.” You wanted to obey, every part of you was trying, but you had no vocabulary for any of what this was. So you were left chanting, “I don’t know,” over and over. 
“Stop,” he said, and of course, everything did. “You can feel it?” he asked. “The compulsion? You actually feel it move through your body?”
The word was new to you, but you knew what he meant. You nodded and he hummed. “Oh, you are very interesting, aren’t you, pet?” 
You didn’t say anything to that, just watched him warily. He gave you a sharklike grin that sent chills down your spine and said “Now, calm down.”
And just like before, you felt everything inside you slow. Your body sagged a bit against the shelves, no longer trying to push your way through them.
“There,” he said, cupping your face in his large hand. “Isn’t that better, little pet?”
He guided you to the armchair and sat down in it, pulling you onto his lap. You could feel the supernatural strength in his thighs as you settled on top of him, sidesaddle, as he took all of your weight without any reaction at all. He scratched his thumbnail down your jugular and you closed your eyes. “It hurts,” you said, your tone surprisingly flat for how afraid of all this you’d been just a moment before.
“Hmm?” he questioned, as he nuzzled his nose along your throat.
“When you bite me,” you said, still so calm, “it hurts so much.”
“Oh, is that all?” he asked and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t worry, Sunshine, I’ll make it feel just as good for you as it will for me.”
With that, he moved one of his hands in between your legs, slowly sliding it up your thigh. His face was fully in the crook of your neck when he mumbled “Feel this,” and you felt the command vibrate through your whole body. The calmness that had flattened you faded away and you let out a little whine when his hand reached your mound. He pushed your panties to the side and slid his fingers between your folds. You gasped as he quickly found your clit, tracing slow lazy circles around it. You tried to grind down onto his hand and you felt him huff a laugh into your neck. His tongue darted out, licking a wide stripe all along your vein. You let out another whine, so desperate this time. 
He chuckled again. “I was going to make you get wet for me,” he said, as his fingers began to prod at your hole gently, his thumb still working at your clit, “but I don’t need to, do I? Or at least, not with my voice.” He was right, you were already soaking, and there was no resistance as he slipped one finger inside of you. You squirmed against his hand and he added another finger. 
His mouth was still on your neck, lapping and nipping at your jugular, but he hadn’t sunk his teeth in yet. He scissored his fingers for a moment, stretching you so good that you cried out before he added a third. They stroked inside your walls, looking for your spot. He found it and you threw your head back. 
“Come on,” he growled, “give me what I need.” He curled his fingers, scraping against that place inside you just right. You screamed as you were thrown over the edge of your orgasm and that’s the moment he finally sunk his fangs into your neck. You felt it, you did. The pain was just as intense as before but mingled with some of the strongest pleasure you’d ever felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your body spasmed around his fingers as he loudly sucked from your neck. You swore that you could feel the blood rushing to both places. You babbled as you coasted along the waves of your orgasm, feeling like it would never end. Even as the aftershocks quieted and slowed down, his mouth was still latched to your neck, taking what he needed from you. Your body was fully collapsed into his now. Everything offered up for the taking. 
Finally, his teeth left you and he gently licked the blood from your skin. He slowly removed his fingers from you and you whined at the emptiness. He brought them up to your lips. “Clean up your mess,” he commanded and your mouth dropped open without thinking. He slid his fingers in and you swirled your tongue around them. You tasted yourself, sweet and musky, as you sucked him clean. He pulled them out with a soft pop and wiped them on the bodice of your slip. 
You looked at his face. He still had your blood on his lips. You felt the odd urge to kiss him but didn’t have the chance as he pushed you off his lap. Your knees buckled, too weak to stand. He laughed gently, like you might at a cute animal that was struggling, as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bed. He laid you down and tucked you in. “Rest up, Sunshine,” he cooed, and your body did as it was told, quickly sinking into sleep. “I’ll be back for more soon.”
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Tag list is open
@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @femefetalelevelingup
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macverse · 2 months
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Whether or not you want to spend the day with Steve, with Chris or with Justin I've got you covered. Click below to snuggle up with your fictional beau for the day. Pick your fic: Warnings Key: G - General, M - Mature 18+, ! - Sensitive Content
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5 am & a Wake Up - M It's 5 am and you don't want to get out of bed. Chris doesn't want you to get up either. [link]
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Backstage Pass - M Some people dream of waking up to find out that they've become famous overnight. One morning, you wake up to find that you've become famous for all the wrong reasons and it is all because of someone more famous than you've ever dreamt of becoming. [link]
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Protection - ! A story told by two: JC fails to protect the thing that means the most to him but Justin does not [link]
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Inked - M You wouldn't call it an obsession but Chris' tattoos do something to you [link]
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What You Know - M You know you love Chris. You know you've been feeling sad. You know you can't keep feeling like this. What you don't know is if you are strong enough to say what you need to say in order to walk away. [link]
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What You Can See Now - M In the span of time between your leaving LA and now, you've questioned whether or not it had been the correct decision to break up with Chris. Things hadn't been what you expected. It made you wonder if things with Chris had really been all that bad. It made you wonder if it had all been a misunderstanding. Could you change your mind? Could you and Chris be together again? You've questioned your decisions that day almost every moment of every day until today, until what you can see in front of you now. [link]
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What You Hope You Can Change - M Chris wants you back but doesn't know if he deserves you. He sees how much he's ruined everything. He wants you to be happy, but it hurts to let you go. [link]
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Mi Amante - G You and Chris haven’t been together for very long but you know you both want things to last. You both don’t usually have any problems talking about your feelings with each other. Something about this recent hurdle is stopping the both of you from opening up to each other. [link]
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Yuletide - M It's Christmas and you finally have time alone with your super soldier [link]
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My Bloody Noghts with Mr. Evans - ! M By the end of the evening, the haphazardly spilled bloody mary wasn't the only thing staining the table linens a deep red. [link]
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Thirst - M You may have teased Chris just a bit too far and now you have to pay for it. Not that you're complaining. [link]
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macverse · 2 months
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What you hope you can change
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Chris wants you back but doesn't know if he deserves you. He sees how much he's ruined everything. He wants you to be happy, but it hurts to let you go.
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A/N: Well, I've accidentally started a mini-series. This was all supposed to be a one-shot, lol. The series started because @shipheart commented, “I wonder what the reader will do next” and then this happened.  I had a wild thought that this Chris/Reader couple could be the couple in Mi Amante and what happens in this series is what led them to start couples therapy. Some of the details are off but I like the idea that this is the back story. This series and Mi Amante are not related, it's just my headcanon within a headcanon, haha. I wrote once on something I was writing “I feel like I'm writing something much bigger than this is". I'm getting that same feeling again with these. It might be. Who knows. Special shout out to Vicky of Chris Evans fan page UK 🇬🇧 @chrisevansfanuk twitter. Since Mr. Evans had taken some time off when I started writing this, I need a secondary resource for content and research. These pages were a big help. Several 11 pm til much, much later writing well past the point of exhaustion sessions were supported by Vicky's pages. There was a very special sleepy moment where I was just blindly scrolling through your tweets cause I knew, I KNEW you had the info I needed but it was from months ago. I found it. Thank you so much.
---
“Chris?” 
I didn't mean to be here. I did come here on purpose but I didn't think it would be that easy to find her. I'd thought maybe if I saw Y/N from far away, I could make up my mind. If she seems happy, if she seems like she’s in a good place, I could turn around and walk away. I could try to move on and let her go if she was okay.
That's not how it happened. We literally almost ran right into each other. One second I was deciding to give up, thinking it was providence that I hadn't seen her and the next I was colliding with Y/N.
“What are you doing here?”, Y/N asks after we’ve both recovered. “I’m honestly not following you. I heard from a friend that they'd seen you around here,” shit that sounds like I'm stalking her. She needs to know that I didn't mean for this to happen like this. I know I don't deserve a second of her time but if I can just get a moment then maybe things can be better. I hold my hands up, my palms forward as I continue, “I just wanna talk.” Uh, stress is cruel, fame's a lie
But you're special, on every level
Success is cool, money is fine
But you're special, another level The shock of Y/N leaving LA was like getting thrown into the deep end of a pool in the middle of winter. I realized too late that I was being an idiot. I was the reason she’d been there in the first place and I ignored her. I didn’t do it on purpose. My schedule kept filling up and my free time kept disappearing. I missed her but work was work. It couldn’t be ignored.
My assistant Josh had mentioned that he was getting a feeling that Y/N wasn't having a good time or didn't have much to do. He was the one who made sure I’d get a plus one so she could accompany me to my events. He'd even put together a list of exhibits and classes that I knew that Y/N would love, places we could go, and things we could do on dates but I kept putting it off because I was busy. 
I kept thinking later, later but she left before I could get to later.
Listen
I see the men, they wanna touch ya
That's when I tell 'em, uh huh
I guess I am a jealous lover
'Cause I ain't sharin' with another lover
Stress is cruel, fame's a lie
But you're special, on every level
Success is cool, and money is fine
But you're special, another level
I was a mess after she left. I didn't have the time to be a mess but the minute there wasn't a camera in my face I would break down, the facade I kept up would crumble away and all I could feel was heartache. I muddled my way through the rest of the projects I had in LA. I can't even remember if I did work that I was happy with or not. The ache Y/N left in my chest was irrepressible. I could barely breathe sometimes. 
The hole Y/N left in my life was tangible. You don't realize how entwined someone is into the fabric of every minute of your life until it hits you in the face. 
I didn't realize how the simple touch of her hand stopped my mind from racing. I didn't realize how seeing her and my dog safely at home brought me peace.
I didn't realize how the smell of her perfume on the sheets made me feel like I was home every night.
I didn't realize how much her smile warmed me from the inside and made my heart sing in my chest.
I just didn't realize how much I loved her in my life...
Want more? Read the rest on my AO3.
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macverse · 3 months
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I have a question...
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macverse · 3 months
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I have a request you are up for it. I kind of had this idea where Steve Rogers really screwed the Reader over in their past relationship and cheated on her with Sharon and dumped the reader for her. Even the avengers don't talk to her anymore and made her look like the toxic one in the relationship. two years later it's his and Sharon's wedding day and it was a beautiful and wonderful, however reader returns and decides to kill seek her revenge on Steve and Sharon and the rest of the team. Let's just say she gets it and Steve suffers. (Reader is a witch by the way)😈
hello honey, I hope you like what I've done.
summary - steve cheats on you, causing the team to turn against you to save the world from hating him. years later, you finally seek your revenge.
warning - angst, torture, cheating, dark content, badass female
the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)
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It had been two years since Steve Rogers broke your heart, you thought that would be the worst of it, but the fact the team turned on you and screwed you over by making it seem like you cheated on Captain America, causing the world to hate you, treating you like shit until the point you snapped. If they wanted a bad guy, they’ll get one. 
You sat in a dark room as the tv played, your ex was getting married to the tramp he cheated on you with. Your golden eyes sharpen as you glare at the screen, causing it to explode in sparks. You grin, the whole team would be in that church, making this so much easier for you. 
Your hands glow as you begin to hover, your long black dress falling gracefully around your legs. “Oh, the day that the Avengers fall and all by my hands.” Your laugh echoes throughout the room and you disappear, reappearing in front of the god-awful building. “Oh god, could their taste be any worse?” Your hands face down, levitating toward the church doors and flinging them open with your magic. The whole room falls quiet. “Well, well. Where was my invitation?” 
Your head tilts as Sharon huffs. “You aren’t welcome here!” Your eyes move around the room, connecting with each person. “Hello? Get the fuck out! Didn’t you realise you weren’t welcomed when Steve left you for me?!” 
You smile, your gaze moves back over to hers and you stare. Watching as she shivers under it. “Sharon, Sharon, Sharon. You should know not to mess with a witch, especially a pissed off one.” Your hand flies up, stopping a bullet midair, you slowly tilt your head, looking at the small metal object before your gaze follows where it came from. A grin forms on your face as you connect with Natasha’s. It appears you found something that made the big Black Widow shudder with fear. 
“Y/n, stop this. You are only hurting yourself.” You blink, once, twice, thrice before your laughter fills the room, sending chills up everyone’s spines. “Why are you laughing?! Do you not realise how insane you look right now?!” 
“Sweet, sweet Natasha.” The bullet melts as you direct your hand toward her, lifting her in the air, watching her dangle as she struggles. “I’m not hurting myself, I’ve finally healed from the pain you all put me through. Because, sure I loved Steve and it felt like my heart had been ripped out when he constantly cheated on me with some wannabe tramp. But I could’ve lived through that, what I wasn’t expecting was the heartbreak from the people I considered family.” A growl rumbles within your throat, eyes glowing brighter with each word and emotion. “I can no longer hurt myself when you did a wonderful job of it for me.” You twitch, you can feel the stupid witch trying to enter your mind, her magic feels like something irritating, like a jumper that continues to itch because someone made it out of that horrible fabric.
You continue your hold on Natasha, turning your head, gold meets red. “What are you doing, Little Witch?” You blink, sending her flying across the room, crashing into a row of ugly flowers, causing you to scrunch your nose. “Ew, who chooses weeds for their special day?” You huff, feeling a body slam into you and your other hand reaches out, strangling Vision as he tries to charge again. “What is with you people, don’t you know it’s rude to just attack a person.”
“Y/n stop. That’s enough.” Two years ago, your heart would’ve pounded inside your chest from hearing his voice. But now, your heart lies cold within your body. The rest of the team that you don’t have a hold on, stand, readying for a fight. It felt comedic. “If you don’t leave, we will make you leave.” 
You throw your head back, letting out another chilling laugh before your head falls forward and you glare at your ex. “You make me leave? Do you think you’re stronger than me? You may be Captain America, but deep down you’re just that weak little boy back in the 40s.” You float over to him, black and gold magic building beneath you in a cloud and the anger builds in your veins. Your hands fly back, throwing those you had in your hold against the church walls before you reach in front, releasing all your magic onto the one man, watching him fall to his knees. “You and your team are no match for me, Steve Rogers. You will never be, you will all fall before you even manage to take me with you.” You lower to the ground, standing over him, leaning over, moving your face close enough that it looks as though you are about to kiss. “You will beg me for your life. It may not be today or a year from now, but you will.” You grip his chin between your fingers, forcing him to look into your eyes as you smile. 
Your eyes flash, stopping Tony from approaching, his Iron Man suit begins to slowly enclose on him, squashing him from the inside. “Not so fast, Mr Stark.” Your magic wraps around Steve’s body, keeping him in his position as you turn and face the rest of the Avengers. You look at each and everyone of them, letting your magic explode around you and the room, wrapping around them. “Soon you will all fall, no longer loved, no longer remembered. The world will move on without you and in your demise, you will beg me for help, falling deeper and onto your knees. Sacrificing your beliefs and pride.” You begin to descend from the steps, smirking. “Hm, why don’t I continue to torture you guys some more.” 
With a wave of your hand, all their nightmares come to life. Every single person or thing that they don’t want to face appear in front of them, torturing them, allowing you to sit back and watch with a smile, a glass of wine appears in your hand as you watch them all suffer. A few hours pass and you grow bored, making everything disappear along with yourself. 
While your magic circulated around them, it allowed you to see their future and it gave you many ideas to how you could continue to ruin their lives. Starting with the man who destroyed you. You close your eyes, feeling your spirit escape you and travel back in time, appearing in front of a woman that many looked up to. 
“Peggy Carter.” She spins, looking around for the voice. Your eyes glow and your magic surrounds her. “The love you feel for Steve Rogers will turn into hate, he will appear soon and will want to stay. You will fill his head with every hurtful thing you’ve thought of. You will see who he really is and how much he has changed when he was the smaller version of himself. You will destroy him, rip out his heart and squash it in front of his eyes. He will finally know how it is to feel his heart being broken.” She blinks, walking over to the photo of Steve, staring at it, and wondering why she has it before Peggy grabs the photo and drops it into the bin. 
You smirk, disappearing back into your time and body. Your eyes open with an evil glint, staring right at the readers.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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macverse · 3 months
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I wish I could read a book and not judge it
I spend so much time writing now that I try to figure out what the point is the minute I finish the first chapter
I started reading some books I got from Stuff Your Kindle Day to refuel my writing brain and accidentally fell into a book series
What are you all reading right now?
Oh, there is new fic coming soon
I mean it this time
I planned for it to come out around now
Peep the tags for pre-spoilers to the spoilers
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macverse · 3 months
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Spoilers...
He moans, exhaling deeply into your hair as the warmth of your supple body pressed into him. You echo the moan as his hardening cock presses into your ass, “Well then we’ll just have to get that sweet little pussy all wet to take my cock, won't we?
Your heart pounded at his words, your whole body thrumming with arousal as his grip tightened on your body. You arch your back, bearing your neck. Steve seized you, his hand roughly cupping your chin, keeping your head tilted just the way he wanted and the other undoing the simple strings tying your wrap shirt closed and unbuckling the belt keeping your peasant skirt to your body. The scrape of his tongue from your shoulder and up your neck over where he'd marked you with the same type of blossoming flowers he’d bought you on your first date has you wanton and whimpering in seconds.
Steve walks you backward, closer to the fire as your clothing slips from your body. You swirl your hips against Steve's crotch as his mouth finds another sensitive spot on your neck. Steve moans deep in his chest and purrs in your ear, “If you keep grinding against me like that, dollface, I’m going to have to take you right now.”
He doesn’t do anything to stop you. He keeps dancing his fingers over your skin, following the pathways he’s marked there. He trailed his fingers down and over your warm mound, caressing your soft skin, before slipping a finger between your folds, seeking out your molten center. “Are you getting wet just from me kissing and biting up and down your neck, princess?” Steve teases causing your whole body to convulse, nearly making you double over in pleasure but Steve's firm hands hold you in place.
“Easy there, dollface. I got you,” his tongue cascades up the back of your neck and his fingers work their way deep inside of you. You cry out and your hips undulate when his fingers hit the spot you desperately need them to be in. He chuckles deep in his chest, his warm breath tickling your skin as you begin to pant, his fingers picking up their pace pumping in and out of you at a steady rhythm.
‘More’ you think but then Steve is suddenly gone. Leaving you aching, exposed, and dripping between your thighs....
More?
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macverse · 3 months
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its almost 400 hits
[speachless]
IT'S NOT EVEN BEEN TEN DAYS!
oh my gosh you guys, thank you so much.
ICYMI
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macverse · 3 months
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I can not express to you how much I'd throw away the rest of this TV series for this to have happened.
I think I'd maybe thought about it without realizing it. There is a chapter in the novel I'm trying to finish that my Will character finds out that my Hannibal character is the murderer and is not against it. He's basically saying how can I help and please kill this person.
A lot of that story is inspired by NBC Hannibal. I don't think it's this beautifully written but I tried my best.
I need to read the rest of this asap.
Okay but what if...
“I kissed Alana Bloom.”
“Well, come in, then,” I mutter as Will walks in, leaving a snowy mess on the hall floor.
My thoughts recalibrate as I process the reality unfolding – Will, the pursuer of the killer, strolling into the dining room where the very killer sits. My body finally reacts, trailing behind him.
“You have a guest,” he remarks, noting Tobias perched on the table.
“Yes. Will, meet Tobias Budge. Tobias, this is Will Graham… He works for the FBI.”
Tobias raises a brow, asking, "You befriended the police?" I don't bother responding, just shoot him a warning glance. "Smart."
Will turns to me, seeking an explanation. Oh, well, this is certainly not how I planned for this to go.
“Is it?” Will challenges.
"Well, when dealing with criminal affairs, or if you're in the business, cozying up to the authorities is a smart move, wouldn't you say?"
Will raises a brow, and I discreetly reach for my scalpel in my front pocket.
“Tobias was just leaving,” I assert. Will appears unconvinced.
“Was I?”
“Didn’t you say you weren’t feeling well?” My patience wears thin.
“I’m quite well, doctor Lecter. Are you feeling unwell?” 
Will observes us, while a suppressed sigh escapes me. A quick assessment reveals Will unarmed. Oh well, that’s it then:
“Tobias is the killer.” 
Time momentarily halts as we collectively process the revelation. Tobias rises, knife in hand, advancing toward us with a veneer of calmness that contradicts the intensity in his eyes. Will swiftly positions himself in front of me, an unexpected protective gesture. My heart reacts, but I dismiss the sentiment, stepping forward.
“Does your friend know what you are, doctor?”
My head warms, sweat forming.
“This is a very bad idea, Tobias.”
“What’s a very bad idea is the FBI being friends with a killer, wouldn’t you say, Mr. Graham?”
Unable to meet Will's gaze, my attention shifts as Tobias hurls a knife in my direction. It pierces my shoulder, most likely the deltoid muscle, and I try to focus my attention on the sensation as I breathe through it and I remove it, throwing it on the carpet. It’s going to stain.
Preparing to retaliate, I notice Will has already seized a larger knife, charging towards Tobias. A chaotic chase ensues, chairs toppling as they crash through a glass door. It shatters. I liked that door.
Following their path, I notice Tobias wielding another knife. Mental note: stop placing so many knives on the table; he stabs Will in the shoulder. Another mental note: my dining knives are way too sharp. Before I can intervene, Will plunges his into Tobias’ chest. With the advantage of having grabbed a larger knife, and although I'm glad about that, I might need to take it away from him as of now I am certain he will try to attack me after finishing Tobias. I stop in my tracks as I see the blood spraying Will’s face as he continuously stabs, until Tobias’ eyes have completely lost their light. I can feel my heart tugging, my breath catching, my mind singing a beautiful symphony as I watch Will in all of his glory. Ah, my killer. There you are.
A brief moment of indulgence passes, and I must regain composure. He breathes and shakes violently. Carefully, I remove the knife from his grasp. He lets me. His gaze fixed on the body, lost in a mental abyss only he can fathom.
“Will?”
His head snaps towards me, and I cup his face. “It’s over.”
Neither of us has said anything as I put a cloth on my shoulders to stop the bleeding and begin tending to Will's wounds with a tender hand. I accessed my supplies and deliberate pressure is applied, halting the bleed. I cleanse the wound meticulously, and the task makes me calm. My mind is filled with fearful thoughts but I let them pass through me as I focus on the act, akin to lighting up candles in an altar. One by one, with sacred silence and a devoted heart. He carries pain so beautifully, specially physical pain. I love having the opportunity to mend his wounds, to take him into my arms and care for him. It’s irresistible the urge to throw him off a cliff just to have him all fragile in my arms so I can nurse him back to health. I wish he’d always come to me for any and all ailments, allowing no healer but me to trace the contours of his scars.
He sits on my dinning table as I apply a lavender and tea tree combination onto his skin, gently massaging it. He has sensitive skin, I noticed the other night when I gave him a massage after dinner, and the cinnamon combination left a subtle mark on the left expanse of his shoulder blades. A mistake rectified, now gifting me an intimate knowledge of his skin's intricacies.
His eyes, observant but distantly tethered, narrate a tale beyond the surface. I fashion a tight and secure dressing on his shoulder, and use all of my strength not to kiss it. I can’t read him right now. And so I begin removing Tobias from the door, his bloodied form dragging through my once-cherished carpet, now destined for a funeral pyre. A true loss really, it was a very beautiful carpet.
I deposit his body inside a closet, it’s not the time to deal with the deals with the details now. My mind conjures up my brief time with Will, in case I need to let go of it all tonight. I go back to the day we met, how his eyes pierced through mine, even as he tried to avoid it. How I was captivated by his beauty, inner and outer, how my thoughts were completely taken by him— a rapture in the corridors of my mind.
The days that follow, our quick journey from friends to lovers, etched in the memory of our first kiss, a clutch for balance as he sobbed in that office chair. I recall kneeling in front of him, his passionate grip seizing my face, lips stabbing onto mine with the same fervor he employed to stab Tobias moments ago. My beautiful harbinger of death—how I yearn for more shared moments. As my eyes threaten to burn and tears linger on the precipice, his scent permeates the air, prompting a hesitant turn to face whatever fate he deems my due.
I just find big, blue eyes, staring at me like a little child. Confused, tired. The desire to address this chaos by merely kissing his forehead and tucking him into bed overwhelms me. Our gazes hold, open to the destiny he envisions for me. If I am to fall, it shall be by his hand.
“Make sure you dispose of this one better than Nicholas Boyle.”
I stare, seeking answers in my gaze alone.
“I know,” he utters, his words carrying a simplicity that sends my heart racing. A prolonged sigh escapes him. “Were you using me?”
His words wield knives that cut deep into my heart. I comprehend the assumption, yet the pain resonates. “No,” I reply, my voice hoarse with the weight of agony. He nods.
“Are you sure about that?” he asks again, his eyes a mosaic of pain, uncertainty, and defiance.
“I would rather you end me than they. And I'm certain they will, once I’m convicted. So, please,” I extend the scalpel to him.
He accepts it. I brace for impact, tears streaming from my eyes. His beauty is overwhelming. In this final moment of my existence, I acknowledge it without restraint; yes, I love him—profoundly, unlike any love before. If there was ever any. My love for him shatters my core, kindling fires within my heart. He has disrupted my peace, and yet, I welcome his chaos with open arms. He has tamed the beast within, and all that remains is an overwhelming tide of desire.
He sighs and advances. I take his hands, guiding the cold sharpness to my neck, inhaling the essence of his wrist. Let this be the last imprint on my senses. Whether it's an ascent to heaven or a descent into hell, I want his scent to envelop my mind.
He leans in, and kisses me. If my mind were capable of physical melting, it would have succumbed to his lips.
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macverse · 3 months
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reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something
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macverse · 3 months
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Yuletide
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It's Christmas and you finally have time alone with your super soldier
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A/N: Thank you's too @empty-sigh(18+), @moderndaymystic, @sarahdonald87 (18+), and @babyjakes (18+), @daddyneeds-you (18+), @serephineh, @bloodbending, @fucktoyfelix (18+), @fandomfluffandfuck (18+), @quinnandersonwrites for inspo, motivation and reference content.
I do not write smut y'all. I was blushing all the way through this. Not because of the smut. Because I was writing it. I read things like this all the time. Writing it was an experience! But the idea had to let out and here we are. I'm glad all of these beautiful people's pages exist and help me through this fic. Thank you.
---
“Y/N, come here,” Steve calls you from the living room, “What is this.”
You’d spent most of the afternoon making the living room in the rented cabin nestled in the woods feel cozy and inviting. It had been a while since you and Steve had had any time alone together and you wanted to make it special. You found an abundance of candles in the store closets and piled every cozy blanket and pillow over every seating surface and on the floor. You imagined Steve would have you moaning and writhing all over the room and couldn’t wait to feel the soft chunky knit pillows and faux fur blankets on your overstimulated skin. 
You transformed the living room while Steve was outside chopping firewood. While you raced around the cabin for supplies, you stopped for a moment to watch him through a window that looked out over the yard. You felt your breath quicken as he swung the axe up and over his head as if it were nothing, easily gliding through log after log, the large snowflakes steadily falling around him. Something about the steady and repetitive thwack of the axe caused your attention to hone in on the space between your thighs. Nothing about the simple act of chopping wood should have made you feel aroused but your body tingled in all the right places as you watched Steve’s muscles work under the tight, long-sleeved shirt he wore as he worked through the pile of wood. 
When Steve came back in, you’d pretended nothing was going on as he placed the basket filled with the large pile of wood he carried inside. You handed him a steaming hot cup of coffee and diverted him from the living room by telling him you’d started the shower so that it would be nice and warm. He kissed you sweetly and headed off to the shower none the wiser to what you’d been up to. You were supposed to be making Steve an apple pie while you’d been purposefully redecorating. You tried to make up for lost time weaving the lattice top and didn’t hear him as he snuck by, finding your surprise before you had meant to reveal it.
“With the way that snow is coming down out there, I thought we could spend some time together however you’d like,” you said feigning innocence, “You’ve just finished a long mission, Steve. I thought maybe I could help you relax.”
Steve looks around the room, taking in the near fire-starting amount of candles and all the plush items before turning to look at you, “You did all this for me, dollface?”
You nod sweetly in reply and slowly unbutton the thick cable knit cardigan you’d had on to keep warm. Underneath, you had on a cropped wrap top that gently cupped your naked breasts and a long peasant skirt that would easily slip from your body the minute you unbuckled the belt from your waist. You shivered slightly as the warmer material fell to the ground. When you saw Steve's eyes darken as he took in your exposed skin you knew that you’d be warm enough soon. It wasn’t just the sight of your exposed body that was turning his mood. It was the sight of every tattoo on your skin. 
The first time you'd done anything sexual with Steve, he'd paid special attention to the places where your original tattoos were. When you’d met him, you’d only had a few simple, small tattoos. The change in his mood over the few lines of ink surprised you. He gripped your hip almost too roughly where you had an outlined heart. He licked and nipped at your skin with his teeth, alternating between your sensitive nipples and catching your skin just below the swell of your breasts where you had a line of text. His large hands securely held down and stroked your wrist where you had your favorite book quote as he drove into you. Long gone was the good ‘ol boy routine that had swept you off your feet. It was replaced with something primal, darker, and hungry. 
Afterward, he’d asked you about them. It wasn’t just curiosity. Steve wanted to know what they meant. Wanting to know why you got them. Wanted to know how you felt when you were getting them. It made you feel as if he was making sure that your tattoos were not connected to anyone other than you. That was when he confessed to you how much he liked tattoos. Told you about how it made him feel, to see the ink permanently there on someone’s skin. How hard it made him to see something he’d drawn on someone's skin. How uncontrollably he felt when he saw it if he’d put it there himself. How much the idea of permanently marking someone like that turned him on.
He’d confessed how badly he’d wanted one himself but never could because the super soldier serum running through his veins was constantly healing him and erasing any ink he’d put on his skin. You’d asked him if he wanted to do that to you, to mark your skin. That was the first time you’d seen his mood turn like this, a dark lust building in his eyes. They burned with the desire that heated you to your core. He was back on you before you realized, filling your already aching cunt with his quickly hardening cock, his voice several octaves lower cut right through you as he said over and over again ‘yes’, ‘mine’, ‘gonna mark you’, ‘all fucking mine’.
That was when he started lovingly mapping out the tattoos that adorn your skin now...
Read the rest on my AO3.
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macverse · 3 months
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If you haven’t already, please consider purchasing my new ebook, Necessary Arrangements, as a way to support me and my writing 😊
I put a lot of love into this soft!dark mob romance. If you enjoy my fanfiction, I think you’d really like NA, too! It has lots of filth with feels, three mob babe x reader insert pairings to drool over from both ends, and some twists and turns to keep you guessing!
It’s my baby and I’d really love to share it with you. Thank you ❤️🙏🏻
P.S. If you’ve already purchased NA, thank you so so much!! If you could take a quick minute to rate and review the book on Amazon to help it reach more readers, I would be forever grateful ❤️🥰
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macverse · 3 months
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I'm so sorry I never got to post the Christmas Steve Rogers story when it was still Christmas. Hopefully, you'll all forgive me because it's so SPICY. I had to pause so often when I was writing it.
It will be up soon. I want to have the next part of the What You... series up for Valentine's Day. Clearly the Christmas had to come first.
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It's okay if it takes a little longer than you thought.
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macverse · 3 months
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OOOOOOOOOO I read the original of Vamerica series by Merryl Anderson on FanFiction[dot]net. I remembered they'd said at one point that it was longer than War and Peace. Since then, I haven't been daunted by a long series. Fifty chapters out of ? you say? Hit me! Fav character in a 125-chapter slow burn, will they won't they, love story? Sounds like a relaxing evening. I think people who write long fan fics deserve a metal or at least some sort of grant or gift card, haha. The published version is good if you need a new book rec. It's an AU Sookie and Eric story, obviously renamed but it's clear who the players are even if you didn't read the original fan fic.
Hey writers and readers of fanfiction, I have a question for you. A fic I am writing is quickly approaching the ominous milestone of being the longest in it's fandom. I've outlined the entire thing so I can say it's length will be massive, this gives me real pause. What is the longest fic you've ever read or would be willing to read my friends? Maybe give an old, nervous writer some encouragement.
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macverse · 3 months
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I know the beginning of the story, I know the end of it.
BUT THE MIDDLE
OMG WHY DOES THE MIDDLE HAVE TO BE SO SO HARD TO WRITE!?!!??!?!!?!?!?
-a writer
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macverse · 4 months
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I'd always thought plot what plot now I'm questioning everything
at this point with the way some of you talk i don't know if pwp means porn with plot or porn without plot or porn with or without plot or porn with some plot or porn with the general concept of plot or porn that is plot or por
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macverse · 4 months
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When I was at 20 wips I told myself I wouldn’t start anything new until those were done. Then when I got to 30, I said fine, now no more.
Anyway.
I’m currently at 67, so it’s going great as you can tell.
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