#anyways i'm going to have to force myself to pause on writing for a bit to make myself rest and hopefully I'll feel better soon

[yanderes-galore]

I can't wait to write more of him... along with the Noir prompts at some point. Hope you enjoy and I hope I got him in character! NOT PROOFREAD.

Yandere! Homelander Concept

Prompts Here

Yandere! Homelander Prompts 4, 22, 26

“I can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

“I don’t scare you, do I…?”

“I always get what I want.”

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Kidnapping, Forced affection (Kissing, Touching), Slightly violent behavior, Homelander is lucid for just a moment, Forced "relationship".

Homelander always gets stressed when dealing with Vought. He used to be unable to find a proper outlet to vent his frustrations. But then he found you.

Homelander loves you... someone who appealed to his child-like side. He felt comfort in your presence. While he tried to ignore such an obsession for a long while for the sake of appearances... he caved eventually.

Homelander is a man who always gets what he wants. He originally just took you away to have some sort of comfort to return to. He originally didn't care what you thought.

Over time... he began to form a twisted love for you... his captive.

You are Homelander's special little secret. A guilty pleasure if you well. You are kept away from Vought... the public... everyone but him.

After all... Homelander hates to share.

Now, as often as he can, Homelander returns to the remote location he keeps you in. You have no way to leave... he'll find you quickly. Vought never bothers asking questions... as long as Homelander is compliant with them they could care less.

No one will ever know about you... which leaves Homelander able to indulge in peace.

"I'm home!" The Supe calls into the home he provided for you. It's quiet but he knows exactly where you are. His powers make him quite perceptive.

Homelander takes long strides to the bedroom. He opens the door without really knocking to see you sitting on the bed. You look to have been expecting him... it's good that you've learned.

The Supe flashes his signature smile towards you, circling the bed before leaning in front of you. He feels giddy when your eyes meet his. He can see you're scared... but compliant.

He places a red gloved hand on your cheek before leaning in. As if expecting his advances you prepare yourself and kiss back. It's best not to go against what John wants, after all.

His kiss is passionate and intense, pushing himself against you as you kiss him back. By the time he pulls away he's panting, gaze never leaving yours. He grins... but you try not to focus on him.

“I can’t help myself when it comes to you.” Homelander whispers, nuzzling his nose into your neck. It's as though his stresses and worries melt away when with you. Even if he causes stress on you.

Homelander pauses when he hears your heart beat increase. He pulls back to look you in the eyes. They're wide... scared....

“I don’t scare you, do I…?” Homelander asks... his tone a bit... soft. He may not understand the concept of love well but he doesn't seem to want to scare you. However... your fear wasn't really going to stop him anyways.

Homelander notices you not answer him, his grip on you moving to your waist before tightening. His eyes scan you over... he wants an answer. You bite your lip before shaking your head.

"No...." You answer softly. Homelander accepts your answer, leaning in again to kiss your neck softly before sitting on the bed and laying down on your lap. He basks in your comfort with a smile.

As though you're trained... your stroke his hair. He sighs softly before turning his gaze to you. You can see he's infatuated.

"I love you..." Homelander coos, holding your face as he cuddles into your lap. You push a smile onto your face hesitantly.

"I love you, John...." You answer back, pleasing the Supe.

"Good..." Homelander praises, a vaguely threatening smile on his face. “I always get what I want, don't I?”

"Yes, John." You answer back. The Supe then leans up to kiss you again softly. As expected, you reciprocate, making Homelander's heart accelerate.

"You're mine, aren't you?" The Supe asks again. "Only mine?"

There's an evident pain in your gaze for a moment, but you hide it by kissing the Supe's forehead.

"Yes, John...."

[shepherds-of-haven]

Okay I saw this asked on another blog and it was hilarious so I have to ask here : what do you think inner circle’s Beige Flags are? ( weird/quirky or questionable things they do that give you pause but overall have no real effect on the relationship)

Also hope you are feeling better!! 🩵🩵

Ooh, this is a fun one haha! (And I'm feeling a bit better, thank you! I still haven't fully recovered, but getting there slowly but surely! 🥲) Anyway, let me think...

Blade: rather than accompany you into shops (especially small ones), he assumes you want to be left alone to do your shopping in peace (and also typically finds shopping boring) and will instead just stand outside the door, looming like a really intimidating security guard or bouncer. (He is assessing street security, guarding the only door, and positioning himself within shouting distance in case there's some kind of threat.) This often inadvertently drives away business, so sometimes he'll just wait at the end of the street instead, staring out at the crowd like a member of your own personal secret service

Trouble: sometimes he eats too fast, or more accurately talks too fast while eating, leading to frequent inhalation down the wrong pipe and people having to thump him on the back while he coughs. Sometimes he will power through the coughing by sheer force of will and will just... forcefully swallow through it. He refuses to slow down. Life's too short to try to avoid death by choking

Tallys: doesn't make a ton of affirming noises to let you know that she's listening. A lot of people go "uh-huh" or "wow" or "right" or whatever when you're in the midst of telling a long-winded story. She just stares at you patiently in silence until she's sure you're fully done. This is polite in Elven culture, and she is completely listening, but it can unnerve people who feel pressured by silence lol

Shery: she still has to look at her hands to tell left from right. Like sometimes she has to make her left hand form the L to remember 😅 She also finds it difficult to do math in her head and either has to sketch it out in the air or write it down!

Riel: always leaves a bite or two of food left on his plate; rarely completely cleans his plate. Same with drinks! So many teacups that always have a few sips left at the bottom. Why didn't you just drain it, man? It's like he does it on purpose!

Chase: always takes the most meandering, inefficient way to get to a place. like if the walk from A to B is a straight line down one avenue, he always seems to take the most roundabout, random path. Here, I'll draw you a map:

Red: he is very bad at matching the pace of his walking with others; with those long legs, he walks at a naturally and totally subconscious fast pace! He's mindful about it when on a date or actively courting someone, but when he's focused on something else, excited, traveling, or out and about with friends, he has to frequently be asked to shorten the length of his strides so others can keep up lol

Ayla: I've mentioned this one for her before, but she's very bad about sharing her food. She hates when you snatch a fry off her plate without asking, and even if you do ask, she can be fairly begrudging about it if she perceives food is plentiful (like "why can't you get your own, the line is right there?") In work circumstances, like sharing group rations, she's totally fine, but in restaurants or in the refectory, she's annoyed by it, like "I loaded this plate for myself and planned on eating all of it... myself 😒 If you wanted to share something, you should have said so earlier!"

Briony: she's constantly whipping people in the face with her ponytail. She tends to turn her head really fast or spin around in conversation and whoever's standing near her ends up with a mouthful of hair. She hasn't learned to not smack people in the eye with her hair yet despite several remonstrations

Lavinet: frankly shocked, upset, and scandalized whenever there isn't a little something sweet at the end of a meal. it doesn't have to be a full-on dessert--even a single chocolate served on a plate would do, and is often preferred! but when there's nothing?? nary a profiterole or cream puff or a little sweet treat for the lady in sight?? something is off!! her palette isn't satisfied!!

Halek: he always wakes up in the morning so loudly. unfold from the bed -> crack his back, neck, shoulders with the most ungodly series of pops -> loud groan. It sounds like an old accordion getting stretched out

[nogenrealldrama]

Hi! Love the excerpts of your work that you've shared here. Do you have any advice for someone just starting to dip their toes into writing? Fanfic, or just generally? Thanks! :)

First of all thank you for reading and I'm so, so happy you liked my snippets :D

Second of all: Ummm giant disclaimer that I have almost nothing actually published to my name, so altogether I also consider myself a new writer. But I love to rant about writing anyway so here goes:

Don't listen too much to writing advice. When I first tried writing, I would spend way too much time on writing advice blogs. Many of them aren't that good, to be quite honest. And even for the good ones, there is such a thing as right advice given at the wrong time, or at the wrong place in your writing journey. If you're an overthinker, reading too much advice can make you start worrying about small things, and/or not have the confidence to try something wild but important on your own. Frankly, all it really comes down to is: 1) Having a vision, 2) Writing the vision down, 3) Noticing the ways your writing falls short of the vision, and 4) Tweaking things until they reach the level of imperfection you can personally live with. For me, writing advice is best searched for to apply to the specific issues I have in Steps 3 and 4. I apply any advice only in so far as it helps me get closer to the vision in my head. putting the rest under a cut because it got long - sorry!

2. Be uncompromising about writing things that bring you joy.

Kind of similar to #1, but it's doubly important when you're really just starting out. Or when you've been writing a while but always find it hard to begin. Double that importance again when what you're writing is fanfiction, because then you really have no genre definitions or deadlines or publishers or any other actual reason to compromise your vision. You already have some amazing ideas, and for each idea there is probably a feeling or a vibe or a message that you want to capture. Give yourself time to get lost in that feeling, to really indulge in it. And then write it down in its full glory, even the parts that might make you cringe a little from how dramatic or vulnerable they are. If there is a way to make your story more indulgent, do it. Because it will keep you writing. And if you really think it's too much, you can always edit stuff out before publication. You know, after you've actually written the story down. The thing that made me start writing in the first place was a giant longfic/possibly trilogy Canon Divergence rarepair plot idea that is still not finished, and on paper that's pretty much the last thing one should start their writing journey with. But if I stopped myself from writing that in favour of forcing out some oneshots, I never would've written anything at all. Give yourself permission to write exactly and only the ideas that make you excited to write.

3. Bonus advice that might or might not be useful to you, but it was ground-breaking in helping me write the way I want to write - in this excellent post, @little-hermit-crab56 makes a point that dialogue is a dance. I'd take it further/in a slightly different direction and say that storytelling as a whole is a dance. Juts like a dance, dialogue feels most dynamic when you allow it to go back and forth a little, to have short breaks and pauses here and there. I think the same can apply to an action sequence, or a bit of internal monologue, or an emotional trajectory of a whole scene. Just like a dance, it's less about the exact movements (e.g. describing precisely what happens in an action scene) and more about the rhythm of the back and forth (e.g. describing just enough to let the reader know that the protagonist is winning, but then - oh no! - the villain has the upper hand, but then the protagonist gets lucky and they're winning again). I swear that with enough skill to set up the right back-and-forth, even a character tying their shoelaces for a page and a half will feel dynamic. You can alter that rhythm, make it faster or slower, more dominated by "ups" or "downs", but even a little contrast can elevate a plot beat or an emotion more than I had initially thought possible. Of course, there is no need to simplify the "ups" to being good and "downs" to being bad - the back and the forth can both be morally grey or both similarly convenient/inconvenient to the protagonist. They just need to be meaningfully different. You can zoom this out even more and apply the back-and-forth to character arcs, or dynamics between characters, or entire plots. (The three act plot structure is, IMO, simply a choreography for a satisfying back-and-forth). In a longer work, you can have many "dancers" doing their own back-and-forth simultaneously, at multiple levels of the story structure. In a oneshot, you can have one or several backs-and-forths distilled to the most dramatic steps of the dance. In my experience, the whole thing gets quite addictive once you start seeing it.

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Shinkai Tenun no Shou Stellaworth Booklet “Her Long Day” Part 5

there's only one part left after this... and I still haven't decided what I should do next.

Hakuoki Shinkai Tenun no Shou Stellaworth Booklet “Her Long Day” Part 5

Translation by KumoriYami

Haishi · Harada moment 《21~23 o'clock》

By nine o'clock in the eveening, only the soldiers who had to patrol and do chores were the only ones at headquarters who hadn't gone to sleep…

Additionally, most people were getting ready for bed.

And I had gone to the newly built bathroom [or bathing room? don't feel like looking up a better term] at headquarters that had been built on Dr. Matsumoto's recommendation.

"…I'm sorry, Harada-san. You're still exhausted yet you specifically came here…."

"Don't worry about it, I had nothing to do anyway."

That's right, as a woman wearing men's clothes, I could only take a bath at this time.

If I was left by myself, it wouldn't be difficult for me to be found out, which is why I asked the executives who knew about my circumstances to help.

So today, I had asked Harada-san to stand at the door while I took a bath.

"....Fu...."

"Don't worry, soak for as long as you want. You need to take your time and soak yourself."

"Mm… it's nice to take a bath every now and then. After all, I can usually only wipe my body with a wet towel…"

I sighed deeply while responding to the voice coming through the [folding? tl uses "(standing) screen] screen.

“…It's so comfortable, I feel like I'm going to fall asleep."

"Haha, it's fine to sleep for a bit, I won't peak."

"I'm not worried about that..."

I cupped a handful of hot water in the palms of my hands.

"I ultimately don't look like a woman, so even if someone peeked…"

If I had some sort of feminine charm, I wouldn't have been able to wear men's clothing all the time…

After I uttered self-deprecating words with a forced smile, Harada-san's whispers echoed in my ears.

"....I don't think that's the case."

"Eh?"

"I've thought this before, but i wonder if you've vastly underestimated your own charms?"

"Re-Really...?"

Was it just because of how Harada-san praising people that he was saying that…?

As I thought that, I submerged my shoulders under the water while Harada-san's voice accompanied a bitter laugh.

"Well, it's no wonder since that you don't have anyone else to compare to while living in this place like this. And it's even less noticeable while you wear men's clothing."

"Nn..."

"But I still need to say that that in my eyes, you are absolutely very attractive."

“……”

"…Hey, what's wrong? Did you really fall asleep?"

"N-No, I'm awake!… I'm just going to soak for a while longer and then I'll get out!"

I slowly immersed my nose into the water and blankly reflected.

——Soak for a while longer, at least when I get out, I can use the heat as an excuse for why there's blush on my cheeks…

Zishi · Hijikata moment 《23~1 o'clock》

It was very late at night, and most of the troop had already fallen asleep, and headquarters was completely silent.

I headed to the kitchen to get some water before going to sleep when I suddenly stopped in the corridor.

"....Huh?"

Inside headquarters, which had almost all of its lights out, there was a single room where a faint lamp was shining. That should be…

"HIjikata-san's room...?"

"——I'm sorry for disturbing you at such a late hour."

"…Hm? It's Yukimura. Why are you still awake at this hour?"

"Yes, I just finished taking a bath…"

Hijikata-san looked up from the pile of books on his desks, and I raised my head to see the dark circles below his eyes, as if he could collapse at any moment.

"Um… ou seem to be very tired, so why don't you rest for a bit…?"

"Sorry, I can't go to sleep right now. I still have some written materials that I need to write."

Upon closer inspection, there were various papers that Hijikata-san had handled so far that had been stacked on to the table. As I shifted my attention from the latest document…. I sighed softly and paused.

"Um... Hijikata-san."

"What happened. I'm really busy right now, so we can talk later——"

"——The content of this document appears to be wrong…."

"What are you saying"

"Where the position is, the Chief of the Shinsengumi is written as Okita-san… Furthermore, over here.. the number of the division doesn't appear to be correct…"

“……”

Although there places where the errors were small, the entire thing would need to be rewritten.

Hijikata-san's brows furrowed as he looked at the paper, and I spoke quietly to him.

"I really think that you should take a nap, a nap would be good."

".....Ahah, I get it."

Although there places where the errors were small, the entire thing would need to be rewritten.

"If I write this again, I'll only repeat the same mistakes, which will make everything pointless."

"That's right…! Rest for a bit/Take a break!"

"Nn......Thank you, Yukimura. This type of exhaustion is usually something that you can't notice yourself. Thank you for pointing that out."

When he lied down on the floor with his back to me, he seemed to be smilling. Was I mistaking this? Hijikata-san only took about two or three breaths before he began to store, and I gently draped the coat in the room over his shoulders.

"——I hope you can sleep well."

His now tranquil sleeping face made it seem that his usual solemn frowning expression was a lie. For the sake of not disturbing him, I hurried to quietly leave the room.

---to be concluded---

i'm glad it feels a lot like fall now. I do quite poorly whenever the temperature goes above 25°Cish... one of the reasons why I know I'd never be able to live in Italy (aside from the fact that people smoke way too much for me since I have a bad reaction to smoke 😅)

[ageless-aislynn]

Trigger warning: depression

4 days. That's how long my brand new computer managed to make it in between blue screens. And here's the thing that has taken the hope from me: the updates worked. Dell issued a new BIOS, Nvidia and Intel new graphics drivers and everything steadied out for 4 lovely days.

Until Windows 11 covertly overrode the pause I have on updates and rolled the Intel driver back to the broken one. Of course it crashed. I cannot prevent Windows from doing this. It did it stealthily, there's no record in the Windows Update history that it did it, nor that it took half a dozen updates yesterday. But the Windows Reliability Monitor recorded the updates (again, I have updates paused because I wanted to give the system a chance to stabilize). Since both Dell and Intel want me to have the patched driver, Windows is the only thing that had the ability to roll them back as far as I can tell.

I reinstalled the new driver. Windows, though, will override me and roll it back again and it will crash. This isn't a fear, it's a certainty. Until the Intel driver is old enough to be determined "stable" by Windows, only then will it graciously allow me to keep it. Until the next version comes out, then it will force that one on me, even if this version works better. Even if the next version breaks my computer again. I can't stop it.

This computer will never probably be stable. It will always be a struggle. Dell does not consider this a problem. If they replaced it with another one of the same make, model and specs, it will have the same problem. It will always have a bleeding wound at its heart and I'll always be trying to patch that wound while Windows rips the patches away.

Anyway, guess I'm done vidding and making GIFs, can't get Vegas working in such an unstable state. It was fun getting to feel like a gamer for a little bit but nothing's going to launch like this. I can just keep writing by hand and never posting again. It's a "nothing of value was lost" win for everybody who's ever told me that my "creations" clutter up the fandom tags and make people waste valuable time trying to find things "of talent and substance around all the crap" I post.

Yeah, I'm super depressed right now but that's not me just having a pity party, I've legit been told that.

Given how much I've been complaining lately, it won't seem like it but I really do try not to post negative stuff a lot. I want to be somebody who makes others feel better with the things I put out there and this definitely isn't a feel-good post, sorry. Well, there'll be some people out there apparently thinking this is the best news ever, so yeah, guess this brightened somebody's day at least.

I'll try to pull myself back together, struggle to keep the computer going, see if I can find ways to stabilize it enough to be able to do some of the things I used to love to do. I just got so discouraged when I realized this is a chronic thing, not something that can be solved and put behind me. I'm just sad. Sorry again. Hope you're doing well out there. I love you and miss you.

[newhorizonsxiv]

((Cheating a bit on this one with an older piece of Tai and Lyneth from waaaaay back at the very beginning of their relationship. I'm not really doing the challenge proper. Just going to pop in a piece or two as I have the spoons and they won't be cut for length or formatted properly because I have to do everything on mobile from my phone in bed so... Low effort is the rule of the day. Still, hope you enjoy this little drabble.))

Barbarous

"Eh. Couldn't know why they marked me. 'Barbarism'." Tai says the word bitterly "What does that solve? Been kind of...looking for a way to get rid of it..."

He looks at Lyneth, almost apologetically. "My sole existence was always one of two things. Vengeance and protection. I am tired of the first. And I fail so often at the second." he gestures around them "But here I am, trying to make sense of a life I was never meant to live and I can't. I just..."

He stands slowly and slowly makes his way to the back of the room "I always told myself I would never fail again. But I always failed anyway. I'm so tired of failing. I'm so tired of death. I started believing that I was the issue. That if I was simply erased, everyone would be fine." he picks up a grimoire on his desk. "And you're here, telling me things that no one has ever told me."

He flips through the grimoire, stopping once several pages through, and looks back at her "What is your reason for living?"

He tears out a page.

Her eyes drift toward the bottle of brandy but she forces them away and back to his face. "I.. don't know if I've ever really thought about it before. I have.." She shrugs. "I dunno. Goals. In the moment. Things I want and ways to get those things. When I left home the goal was to find my brother. Which I still haven't done but.. will. Someday."

She rises a bit unsteadily to stand beside the table, looking at him and the book curiously. "But as for a greater, overarching Purpose? That I couldn't give you. Except that I'd hate dying now with so many things and places that I've still never seen. So many tales and songs I've yet to hear. Or to write."

"I see." he snaps the book closed and puts it back on his desk. He looks at the page still clutched in his hand. "In truth, I think I found a way to remove the mark. But, for all intents and purposes, it would require me to cease to exist so of course that would remove it." He pauses "Ugh. I'm talking like him."

The page goes up in flames.

"I never had the will to just live. Well, no, that's a lie. It was there. But it was snuffed out. I always needed a reason to drive me forward. Find who did this or protect them or...whatever. But these reasons of mine, well, they can only take you so far if you're not good at them. But you...you imply you live because of what could be in store in the future. But the future terrifies me."

Lyneth frowns, tilting her head to one side. "Why? What are you afraid of? Every breath that we take is a reminder that there is still hope. That we're still here. We can still make things better. Even when things are bleak. Don't be so afraid of losing something that you never try to have it. That's a half-life, Tai. A wasted life. And you are more than that."

She takes a step closer, gesturing toward him with one hand while the other falls to her own shoulder. "That mark you hate so much? I think maybe you just aren't thinking of it in the right way." Another step closer. " 'Barbarous.' " She rolls the word across her tongue. "That's a word that conquerors spit down at the people who will not bow their heads and be conquered. It means that you have not been broken. That you still know who you are. And that you will resist, savagely resist, the people who try to tell you who they think you should be."

"They do it to my people too. In Ul'dah. In Gridania. 'Feral' is the word they use there. But it means much the same thing. To them. And to us. We are the unbroken. And as we breathe, we fight. As we breathe, we hope." By this time her steps have taken her to stand, looking up at him, eyes fierce and burning. "There are still so very many conquerors out there. Some come with guns and some with gil, but they always come. Barbarism.. is a thing that the world does truly need."

[gamesbyalbie]

So, I started writing something this past week (inspired by DPR Ian's incredible music video for Don't Go Insane, and my feelings about [redacted]). This is all a work in progress and I'll be releasing it in sections. Anyways, here's the first part of...

The Cursed Journey

PART 1: PROXY

I don't sleep anymore. Anxiety and caffeine provide me with the energy I need to live and free up hours of otherwise wasted time. 

However—quite unfortunately—they've also stolen my ability to rest.

Most nights I lie in bed for 30-45 minutes but that's merely a formality, a tribute to a past life, a wish I'm certain will never come true. I get nothing from it—except for rare occasions where I stray close enough to dreaming to scrape up a bit of creative fodder—but it's one of the only things I do for myself.

Actually, it might be the only thing I do for myself.

It's not like I do it for long—I couldn't even if I wanted to (which I don't). It's just one half hour out of a full ass 24. Statistically, that shouldn't be the time when I get the most surprise calls. Yet, somehow...

"Fuck me. What now?" I growl, slapping my hand over my phone. It tumbles off the nightstand, because of course it does. A deeply dissatisfied groan rumbles out of my chest like distant thunder. Taking the sheets with me, I crawl halfway out of bed.

This is the third time this week. Who the fuck is it? I wonder, arms supporting my torso while my legs are still on the mattress, looking like I'm waiting for a wheelbarrow race to start. There's something degrading and weirdly primal about this position—stretching to reach my phone, grunting like an ape. I swear, if it's Michael, I'm going to—

The Ward

My blood runs cold. Shit. My arms start to shake. I slip down onto the floor and stare at my phone. It rings several more times before I finally gain the courage to answer. I press the button and a hologram of a woman's face appears. I recognize her and her bob vaguely—she has very distinctive bangs—but I can't remember her name. "Hello?"

"Hi, I'm calling for Ody Specter."

I can't tell if she genuinely doesn't recognize me, if she's being polite and pretending, or if she's following some kind of script. Then again, maybe I just look like shit. "You've reached them." I lean against the sharp edge of my bed frame. The discomfort clears some of the fog from my mind.

"Hi. This is Kelly calling on behalf of the Writer's Ward. Are you sitting down? I'm sorry to say that I have bad news."

That's all you call with, I want to reply. Instead I say, "What is it?"

"It's—"

"Is it Min-joon?"

"Oh, uh, no." She stammers. With how surprised she looks, you'd think I'd just jumped out of a wardrobe wearing nothing but a jester's hat. Probably the script then. "No, um, Mr. Park is stable as far as I'm aware."

The weight crushing my ribcage shifts. Nothing's alleviated, but it changes in nature.

"It's actually Kim Ji-yeon." There's a pause. "Mx. Specter?" Silence. "Did... did the call freeze?"

My mouth hangs agape. Less than two hours ago I was venting my frustrations and fears to Ji-yeon. She was comforting me. My brain cannot process this information. How? How could she— 

"Ji-yeon, she... is she there?"

"She's in transit to the facility."

"What? Uh, when? When did this happen?"

"Around 15 minutes ago." Damn, they move fast. Not that I should be surprised. This is their sole purpose and there's been no shortage of practice. "She made an alarming call to her editor. By the time emergency services reached her apartment, she was unresponsive."

How did the curse get her? Ji-yeon was the best of us. Of the few remaining writers, I would've picked her as the most steady, the most consistent and confident. Hell, she has two new books slated to come out next week.

Maybe... did I not see it? Could I have done something? Was it obvious? Min-joon would have noticed. No, shut up.

"I see. Um..." I rub the back of my neck while trying to force my eyes to stay open. I need coffee asap. "Okay. You need me to come down?"

"Yes, she'd selected you as her proxy. We need you to sign the onboarding documents for her. I believe you're familiar with—"

"Yeah, I'm well-acquainted with the process." Kelly's still relatively new. I'm certain I've done this more times than her. "When do you need me there?" I glance at my watch. 03:17.

"The flight carrying her is set to arrive within the hour. Can you make it here by then?"

"Sure." My fingers pinch the bridge of my nose. I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting off an inevitable headache. "I'll be there in ten."

"Great. Thank you. So sorry to bother you, I know you're probably hard at work. I apologize if this is distracting or..." She probably means to say "puts you at risk" but she's smart enough to leave that unspoken.

"It's no problem. I'm," not happy. "I'm more than willing to do this for Ji-yeon. She would've done the same for me."

She literally would have. It occurs to me that I'll have to select a new proxy. Maybe I should just sign my own papers now. No, shut the fuck up. "Anyways," I tear my mind away from that disturbing thought. "I'll see you soon."

"Alright, see you. Thanks again."

End

My hand falls limply to the floor. The phone clatters onto the concrete. I allow myself a few seconds to stare into space, but I have no time to spare. That's more clear now than ever.

My knees crack as I rise to my feet. I'd been sitting weirdly at my desk all day. In general, yesterday was a bad day. I barely passed 15,000 words and Michael's already breathing down my neck. Almost a month has passed since my last big release. I've been worried, fearful that my well was drying up.

"You're too hard on yourself. Go to bed. Reset your brain."

Ji-yeon told me that. She's the reason I was in bed. Shit. She knew I was "asleep." Is that why she called her editor? Would she have called me if she—

I get dressed quickly. Forcing myself to stop thinking. Well, thinking about that. My mind turns to stories, to the words I'll have to write on the ride over, because I can't stop now. 

This... this can't happen to me.

I won't let it.

End of Part 1 of ? • NEXT PART

More Cursed Journey • More by Albie • Image Source

The amazing music video that inspired this:

[bylightofdawn]

I'm so mentally boomed from work. I chased this fraudster across like 6 accounts, found multiple fake ID's they are sending in, multiple closed accts using different IMEI and different addresses across like 4 states. I legit was starting to feel like Charlie from Always Sunny meme.

This was me when I finally had to drag myself out of the rabbit holes I'd gone down. And this was IN BETWEEN taking constant calls. So I'd find another correlated fraud thing and get a call and have to stop what I was doing and then pick it up again afterward.

And I love it, I love getting to play detective and piece together all this stuff together. I love my job, I just hate how underpaid and overworked I am. If the idea of going back to college didn't exhaust me I'd actually consider trying to go into a field tangential to this because I'm good at what I do, I'm methodical, detail-oriented and I catch stuff a lot of other reps overlook. I say that knowing I prolly sound arrogant as fuck but I have the case work to back that shit up. I think part of that is because I spent ten years as a printer and it kind of trained my eye to pick apart things critically, yanno? Lord the tales I could tell but cannot tell because of NDA's.

Anyway I am mentally drained, suffice it to say. I feel bad I haven't really written anything today, so I'm going to force myself to try and write just a little bit, but my heart isn't in it if I'm being honest. It's still raining sporadically and all I want to do is curl up under the covers and sleep.

I have been thinking a lot and I think I am going to pause on writing Seeds and work on something else. I have like a 15 chapter buffer so it's not like I HAVE to finish it this week or this month.

So I think I'm going to work on that post Cody defecting Bad Batch fic idea I had cause it's going to be atmospheric and moody and I feel like that will spark some joy.

I also need to just give myself some grace here too, I'm burned out. even if I can't write another word on Seeds for the next six months and I run out of buffer chapters it's not like you're getting fucking paid for this, El. It's not the end of the world. People wait months for chapters or even years. It's just a major fear of mine that I won't finish it and I've done all this work and gotten so close to the end.

But realistically, it's not going to happen. I know I will inevitably bully myself into finishing it. I don't need some self-entitled shithead commenter to be all "Where's the next chapter, bro?"

There is literally nothing they can say that I won't have prolly told myself already because I am forever my own worst critic. And this year is about my trying to NOT be my biggest critic or if not that at least give myself some grace and to not beat myself up constantly for my perceived failings and letting it spiral from you failed as a fanfiction writer to you failed as an person because that's not a healthy headspace to be in and I refuse to keep putting myself through that hell.

And lord lemme tell you what a day to day battle that shit is. Because no one can catastrophize like I can. I legit failed to type my PW in twice at work today and my brain immediately went to "Did I get fired and they haven't told me yet and all my credentials are invalidated?" despite having JUST SIGNED INTO MY VPN SO OBVIOUSLY NOT. But that's where my brain immediately went. So yeah, that's a work in progress. I'm trying though.

Okay I'm going to put on the Halo ODST soundtrack in the background because I think it's gonna be some fire background music for this fic and I'm going to start cracking on with it.

[andillneverbethesame]

falls are never good - j.p

summary; in which y/n opens up to mary about her feelings for james

a/n; even if it's not mentioned and if you can't tell in the end, mary is in love with lily. alsoooo. . . i felt like a literal poet while writing this for some reason.

_____________________________________________

he seemed to be happy. then why did it hurt you when you loved him so much? of course it was because he was not happy with you.

in the gryffindor common room in the evening, james tried for the milionth time that day to convince lily into going on a day with him. the girl, like always, was not fond of the idea, saying she'd rather jump from the astronomy tower than going anywhere with him.

but you didn't understand her. who wouldn't be in love with him? he's the sun, lighting up everyone's days just by his presence.

why wasn't it enough for lily, then? not that you minded, of course, because she was one of your best friends and you would feel guilty if you liked the same boy as her, you just didn't get it.

you felt a terrible ache in your chest when james started singing a song he just made up for lily, confessing his undying love that will last eternity.

mary looked at you, worry written all over her face.

she nudged you. "you okay?"

you forced a smile and nodded. "yeah, just tired. nothing to worry about. i'm gonna go to sleep. if you need me for anything, i'll be upstairs."

"i'm gonna go too," said mary. "i'm bored, anyway."

you changed into your pyjamas as soon as you were in your dorm and then lied into your bed, closing your eyes.

silence prevailed between you and mary before the girl decided to break it.

"y/n? can i ask you something?"

"yeah," you answered.

"do you. . ." she began. "do you like james?"

you stayed quiet for a while, trying to figure out how the fuck she knew.

"is it that obvious?"

"no, not really," mary admitted. "it's just that. . . i saw how you were looking at james while we were in the common room. you seemed upset and i kinda connected it with the other times you were like this. when james is doing something stupid to catch lily's attention."

you bit your lip. "well, it's just. . . when i first met him i was like. . . immediately in love. i fell in love with him and it was not good because falls are never good, are they? they are never good unless the person you love helps you stand up. james didn't help me up, not yet atleast. " you paused, bot sure if you should continue, but this was your chance to tell someone about it. "he is a thief, i have to tell you that. no matter with how many boys and girls i've been with, none of them ever experienced how is it like to own my heart because james potter always had it in some way. he didn't give it back no matter how many nights i cried myself to sleep, begging him to give it back because it hurts. it hurts to have my heart shattered by him into milion pieces. the worst is, that he doesn't even know what he's doing to me. i don't want to tell him because i love this thing we have and i can't imagine what it would be like if it didn't exist anymore. he's my sun although i feel cold." you sat up and looked at mary. "do you get what i mean?"

"yeah," she nodded, holding back tears. "i get exactly what you mean."

[idy-ll-ique]

safest with you

pairing: bodyguard!steve rogers x f!reader (brief mob boss!oc x f!reader)

genre: mob au; angst, smut, fluff

warnings: smut, adultery, cheating spouses, mentions of abusive households, mentions of poor mental health, mentions of marital non-con sex, domestic abuse, violence and murder. whew.

requested: nope

word count: ~8.5k

summary: y/n y/l/n is forced to marry a mobster named edmund silverstein, who turns out to be the worst husband ever. when someone attempts to assassinate y/n, he decides that y/n is in need of a bodyguard so he hires steve rogers to look after her. but y/n and steve start falling for each other and begin a secret relationship which, unfortunately, edmund finds out about. so it's okay when he cheats but it isn't when y/n does the same? steve fails to find the logic in that.

author's note: hiya peeps! my longest fic yet, i've been writing this for like... 8 days. really hope everyone likes it, enjoy!

masterlist

---

"Y/N, come downstairs this instant!"

Y/N looked up from the book she was holding. "What now," she muttered, keeping it away before trudging down the stairs, annoyed. She hated it when people interrupted her reading. "What, mother?" The second word, laced with sarcasm. "Lower your tone, miss," her mother hissed, "We have guests." That's when she noticed the three men sitting in front of her mother and her father.

The one in the middle, she'd seen him before. Alas, she didn't remember his name but she knew he was sort of like the Kingpin in the mob world. The God among men, the most revered and respected mobster of all time. "Hey, sweetheart," he winked at her as she sat next to her mom. "...Hi," she blinked after a pause. What was he doing here?

"You don't remember me? Wow, didn't think such people existed," he whistled, leaning back on his seat. "I know who you are," she bit back, "I just don't know your fucking name." She yelped when her mother slapped her arm. The man's eyebrows shot up. "Such language, my my my. Anyway, the name's Edmund, Edmund Silverstein," he chuckled.

Ah, that's it! Edmund Silverstein!

"Right, Mr Silverstein," she drawled, "Now that I've had the pleasure." A sneer took over her lips. "I shall take my leave." But as she got up to go Edmund grabbed her hand, pulling her back to him. She stumbled and fell right on top of his lap, clutching her heart. "What are you doing?" she asked, horrified.

He draped his arm over her waist and held on, his other hand coming to caress her cheek. "What's the rush? There's a thing we need to talk about with your mummy and daddy," he smirked and Y/N wiggled, begging him to let her go. "Afraid I can't do that, you'll just run again. So sit tight, angel, and listen to what your father has to say." His hold on her waist tightened, becoming uncomfortable.

Her father cleared his throat. "As you know, our family has a peaceful alliance with Mr Silverstein," he began. She agreed; they did, in fact, have one. "And um, recently we've got into some trouble so… we need you to marry Edmund." An incredulous sound escaped Y/N. "What?! Marry— what?! Dad! I'm still so fucking young, you want me to—"

"It's for everyone's benefit," he countered, "If you don't do this, we're doomed. We'll be killed, do you understand?! So if you want to save your life, and ours, marry Edmund by next week." Y/N shook her head. "First of all, I do not give a rat's ass about your lives." She gestured to both her parents. "Second, killing myself would be a better choice than—"

She did not get a chance to finish her sentence, for right at that second Edmund clamped his hand over her mouth. "How fucking dare you," he whispered in a menacing tone in her ear, "How fucking dare you say that?!" When he yelled the second question Y/N startled badly, starting to tremble on his lap. She had a condition; ever since she was born she had been terrified of loud noises.

Whether it be someone yelling, or even simply shouting with joy, she couldn't stand it. Hell, her own voice was soft, people always had to ask her to speak up when she talked. As for why she hated her parents, it was because… Growing up, Y/N was never allowed to leave the house. Never allowed to go beyond the front gates.

Her first (and only) friends were the butler and the housemaids. She grew up thinking it was normal; her parents made it seem that it was normal for kids to grow up cooped inside their houses, never allowed to leave and never permitted to make friends their age. Only when she became an adult did she realise how… not okay it was.

She got a phone at the age of 21, a few years ago. When she joined Instagram, the social media app, only then did she find out— She even reached out to a few people online, and they told her that yes, indeed, keeping her cooped up in the house was abusive and toxic.

She'd confronted her parents once about how they treated her but they deterred the topic, saying how they only did it out of love. Since then, her trust in her parents was ever-dwindling.

"Now don't be scared," Edmund crooned upon feeling her tremors, "I will keep you safe, princess, I promise your mum and dad." She took deep, shaky breaths, collapsing against his chest. He rubbed her back, turning apologetic looks unto Mr and Mrs Y/L/N. "I completely forgot she has a thing about loud noises. I'm sorry." They waved in dismissal.

"We're getting married whether you like it or not, sweetheart. Not only yours, but my head is at stake too." With that, he stood up and placed her down on the chair on which he was sitting, running his hand over her head. "See you." Pressing a small kiss on her forehead, he nodded at her parents and motioned to his goons, walking out of the room. They followed him out.

After they were gone, Mrs Y/L/N turned to Y/N. "Go to your room, you embarrassing piece of shit," she muttered and Y/N stood up, readily leaving. Once she was inside, she dramatically flung herself onto her bed, her book long forgotten as she buried her face in her arms, starting to sob.

One afternoon changed everything.

Her life, for the worse.

---

"You may now kiss the bride."

The room politely clapped as Edmund took Y/N in his arms, pressing his lips to hers. Y/N, as much as she wanted to push him away, did not, kissing back. "Hello, Mrs Silverstein," he whispered cheekily and Y/N forced a laugh, giving him a smile. "Hey, hubby," she said, gagging when he looked away from her.

She did not want to marry him. Yes, he was kinda good-looking and close to her age but he was also a pompous asshole, a promiscuous bastard. He'd slept with half the city's girls already; probably even half the country's women. What if his habits continued even after marriage? Yes, sure, it was a contractual marriage but still, how would it look if her husband had nightly affairs with different women?

"Y'all continue your party, I'm taking my bride home." Y/N's eyes widened when he promptly lifted her up, draping her over his shoulder. "What, I—" She covered her ears when everyone shouted with glee, raising their glasses in toast. "On second thought," she muttered. Edmund easily carried her out of the hall and took her to his car, placing her down on the passenger seat.

"You look so beautiful in that dress, I swear, I've never wanted to ravish someone as hard as I've wanted you," he growled, hands grabbing her jaw as he kissed her deep and hard. Y/N panicked a little; marriage was a big no-no from the beginning but now she had to sleep with him? No, she didn't want to be one of his whores. Well, she was his wife, of course, but…

It was now expected of her to sleep with Edmund. So she sat quietly, letting him drive her to her new home.

As soon as they arrived at his place Edmund took her to his bedroom, throwing her down on the bed. Y/N pressured herself to enjoy what they were doing, however impossible it was. When he slid home, she kept her eyes and mouth shut tight. Sex was supposed to feel pleasurable; why, then, did it hurt so much?

Edmund didn't even wait for or care for her orgasm. When he was close to coming, he pulled out of her and stroked himself a couple times, coming all over her chest. "Ah, fuck, that was so hot," he groaned, slumping on the bed next to her. She wanted to scoff; hot? Nothing about what they'd done right then was hot. It has literally only been 10 minutes, what the fuck?

Y/N hadn't orgasmed even once. Deciding that she deserved at least that much, her hand went to her core, playing with clit until she finally orgasmed. After that, she got up and looked to her left; Edmund was fast asleep. No aftercare, nothing. Huffing, she slowly walked towards the bathroom, grabbing a clean towel on the way.

In the bath, she furiously rubbed her skin with a loofah and some soap, trying to discard the feel of his hands on her body. A few moments in, she felt tears pricking her eyes; not being born would've been a better boon than this hellish life that she was living. "Why, God?" she sniffled, covering her face with her hands as she sat in the steadily cooling water, crying all her feelings out.

When she got out of the bathroom, Edmund was still asleep, even snoring softly. She looked around; all her bags were downstairs, so she quietly put on one of Edmund's pants and a t-shirt of his, getting into bed with him. The whole morning had been tedious, she was also feeling very tired. Making sure to keep some distance between them, Y/N fell asleep.

She woke up hours later. Edmund was the one waking her up, saying dinner was ready. "Come on princess, let's get some dinner," he cooed and she sat up, rubbing her eyes sleepily. He took her hand, tugging her out of bed. She followed him downstairs and they went to the dining room where his housemaids were setting up the table.

"Did you have a good rest?" he asked her as they ate. Y/N silently nodded, not meeting his eyes. "Good, good." Y/N's mind drifted towards something; their honeymoon. Where would he be taking her? Somewhere nice, hopefully; she could use a good vacation. "What about—" she blurted out and he looked at her. "Hm?" She cleared her throat.

"What about our honeymoon?"

Edmund hissed, shaking his head. "I'm afraid we can't go anywhere, sweetheart, my schedule is packed, I've got a lot of work to do. No honeymoon. We'll go on vacation some other time," he spoke and Y/N's heart nearly stopped. So, from one house to another, she was still going to be cooped up? "Are you gonna keep me inside the house at all times too?"

He laughed. "No! Not at all, Y/N, you can go out, roam about, do whatever but don't disturb me, okay? I mean, you can always check on me, that will be nice but not a lot. I'm a busy man," he insisted. A little confused by his persistence, she nodded. The rest of the dinner went by silently.

After dinner, Y/N wasn't particularly sleepy. While Edmund went to bed, she stayed downstairs, going to the living room to get the book she'd been reading a week ago. "Peace at last," she muttered and sat on the couch, pulling her legs up before opening the book to the marked page, starting to read.

---

Many months passed. Y/N had thought her life couldn't get more miserable, but oh, she'd spoken too soon. Turns out, Edmund's womanizing habits did not stop after marriage. Y/N had started keeping a diary, noting down what she'd found on him or his laundry on what day. She even attached photographs.

He slept with a different woman every other night; some days she found a lipstick stain on his shirt collar, some days she found hairs that were a colour different from hers…

Hell, the man had even come home smelling like one of the perfumes Y/N used to use before. She recognized that scent instantly and understood that he'd been with a woman that day. Her mental health deteriorated every single day; she got pitiful and sympathetic looks from the housemaids all the time, and also from the wives of the goons that worked for her husband.

Whenever she was out in public she got judged; oh look, there goes Mrs Silverstein the princess. Honestly, I don't understand how she keeps her cool knowing her husband is out sleeping with other women all the time. The truth was, she wanted to shout at him all the time. She wanted to confront him, to tell him off for sleeping with other women.

But she couldn't. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was something else, but she couldn't. He often bought expensive gifts for her when he came home from "business trips". She still allowed him to have sex with her, even though he was the worst partner she'd ever had in her life. Why? She couldn't tell.

Sometimes, she wanted to go out and date other men too. If he could do it then why shouldn't she?! One time she'd even complained about the same to one of the housemaids, but she'd told her that it was a bad idea. "You don't know what Mr Silverstein is like," she'd warned Y/N, "He thinks when he cheats, it's okay, it's a mistake. But when someone cheats on him, he gets… very upset."

Y/N had let out a genuine gasp when the housemaid told her that he'd once almost killed a woman when she cheated on him. He'd shot her in the stomach, but luckily, she made it out alive. So her going out with other men was out of question; she didn't want to die.

That day, Y/N was sitting in her room, getting ready to go out for a day of shopping. Edmund had given her his card, telling her to "go use it to your heart's content". "Buy an entire new wardrobe, even. I love you, sweetheart." Love. That word had lost all meaning for her; if he truly did love her, then he'd stop fucking other women. Of course, that was never gonna happen.

She'd never repeated those words to him. After putting on her footwear, Y/N left the room and went outside, sending the driver a small smile. She told him what mall she wanted to go to and he dropped her there. Now she was all alone; the mall was crowded, and there were so many beautiful shops that she didn't know where to begin her shopping.

She started out with clothes. Going into the first brand-name shop she found, she looked through the clothes, smiling. At that store, she ended up buying three tops, two skirts and four dresses; after paying for them, Y/N grabbed the bags and left. But as she walked she unfortunately didn't notice someone following her.

That someone was from Edmund's rival mob. He had a revolver, and was looking for the perfect opportunity to end the woman's life. Soon he got his chance; Y/N stopped outside a shoe store to window shop. He instantly whipped out the revolver and pointed it at her, shooting her twice in the back.

Y/N, when the first bullet collided with her body, cried out in pain and fell to her knees, the bags slipping through her hands. A few people rushed over to see what had happened; many terrified gasps and screams went around the place as people surrounded her. "She's been shot!" someone yelled loudly, "Call an ambulance, quickly!"

While usually she'd have minded someone yelling so loud, she was rapidly losing consciousness, breathing hard and heavy to keep herself awake. "My phone's in my purse," she gasped out to the person that had yelled, "The password is 7744, call Edmund Silverstein." He instantly grabbed her purse and dug through it, pulling out her phone.

He entered the passcode and when the phone unlocked, instantly went to the contacts app and scrolled, finding Edmund's number. "Hello? Is this Edmund Silverstein?" Edmund picked up the call on the other end, pausing the meeting he was having with his goons. "Who is this? Why do you have my wife's phone?" he scowled. But when he heard the reason, his eyes went wide.

"She's been what?! Okay, okay, I'll be there in a short while, thank you." He ended the call and turned to his men. "Y/N was shot," he whispered, "She has been taken to the nearby hospital, we're ending this meeting here. I need to go." So he cared about her? Of course not. It was his reputation at stake, again; what would people say if he behaved so carelessly when his wife got shot?

What would Mr Y/L/N say? Mr Y/L/N's mob was the second best around; if he lost their support, his rank would plummet. So he instantly rushed to the hospital, running towards her room only to be stopped by the doctor outside. "She's currently undergoing surgery, you need to wait here." Edmund sat impatiently, his foot vibrating as he waited for the operation to end.

Mr and Mrs Y/L/N showed up soon. "How is she?" Mrs Y/L/N asked tearfully, rushing to Edmund. "I don't know. Gah, I should have gone with her to the mall, shouldn't have sent her alone. This is all my fault, I'm so sorry." Mr Y/L/N shook his head. "You had an important meeting, it isn't your fault. Let's just pray for the best."

Their prayers worked, for an hour later, the doctor allowed them to go inside the room, where Y/N was alive and awake. She was laying down on the bed, her upper body propped up by pillows, staring out of the window. "Y/N!" She turned her head and saw Edmund running into the room. He sat next to her and hugged her, kissing her neck.

"Fuck, I was so worried," he whispered, "You almost gave me a heart attack! I'm so glad you're safe." Lies. Y/N knew they were lies. Even still, she played along, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's fine, I'm okay," she muttered. "This is not okay, you were severely hurt, you could have died— you need a bodyguard. I'll hire someone, he'll be your bodyguard."

"Edmund, I don't—"

"But you do! Ever since we got married, the risks to your life have increased tenfold, and that's putting it gently. You can't leave the house alone, Y/N; I'm not saying don't leave the house ever, but while going, you need to take someone with you. Someone who will keep you safe, and be alert at all times— who better than a bodyguard?"

His words did make sense. "Okay, okay, fine." After staying with her for a while, Edmund left the hospital. Minutes later, even her parents were gone. Y/N sobbed as she sat alone in her hospital room, covered in bandages. Why couldn't she just have died?!

---

"Good morning, Y/N, come sit, have some breakfast."

A few weeks passed. Y/N's back had healed nicely, she was now able to walk around the house without support. But that day, as Y/N walked into the dining room, she saw another man sitting next to her husband at the dining table.

He was… extremely handsome. Baby blue eyes, a strong jawline, longish dirty blond hair and amazing facial hair. His thick, full beard looked so lush and soft; Y/N kept staring, her gaze going lower. He was well built; the t-shirt he was wearing was clearly tight on him, defining his biceps and chest. Even the outline of his abs was visible under the tee.

"This is Steve Rogers, your bodyguard from now on."

Unbeknownst to her, Steve was doing the exact same thing she was; his gaze travelled over her body, taking in her tank top, her shorts and her appealing figure. Her face was the prettiest to him; he knew how poorly Edmund treated his wife and he resented the man for it.

But he pitied Y/N. That was one of the reasons why he'd even taken up the job. Not out of respect for Edmund, but out of sympathy for his wife. Y/N slowly sank into the seat in front of Steve, nodding at him. "Nice to meet you, Mr Rogers. I'm Y/N Silverstein." He smiled at her endearing ways. "Mrs Silverstein." That title, like poison on his tongue.

"He's gonna move into the guest bedroom today," Edmund spoke, completely unaware of the looks Y/N and Steve were sharing. "That's nice," Y/N mumbled, glancing once at Steve before starting to eat. Steve also continually stole glances at Y/N as he ate, observing her mannerisms. She was… demure. Naïve, even. Her face had a placid look on it, which irritated him.

Anyone in the same room as Edmund should have their blood boiling. He didn't know how she handled being with him all the time, sleeping in the same room as him… Just the thought made him shiver. "So, Mr Rogers, how long have you been working with Edmund?" He looked up and saw a small smile on Y/N's face.

He smiled back. "I don't work for anyone, Mrs Silverstein, but I offered to help Mr Silverstein because—" He took a pause. "Because the attack on you was deadly. Cowardly, but deadly." Y/N hummed, noticing the pause. Edmund did not give two fucks; he was busy shoveling food into his mouth at light speeds. After he was done, he stood up.

"Darling, make sure our new roomie is comfortable at our place, I'll be going now," he said. "Yes, sir," Y/N murmured, barely disguising her disgust as he gave her a kiss. "Love you, see you later!" With that, he left the room. As soon as he was gone, Y/N made a face, wiping her face clean with the cloth napkin kept in front of her, seemingly forgetting she wasn't alone.

When she heard a chuckle coming from in front of her, she paused and looked up, horrified. But Steve was smiling; he hadn't smiled this genuinely in ages. "No, don't be terrified, I understand completely. He gets on my nerves too." A beat passed and Y/N smiled. "Really? Then why did you accept this job?" He leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms.

"Because you need protection. I didn't take the job for him, I took it for you."

For the first time in forever, butterflies pooled in her stomach. Steve had made her feel what Edmund hadn't been able to for months— liked. Appreciated. "Really? Um, thank you," she mumbled, a small giggle escaping past her lips as she looked down at her lap, flustered. Steve smiled wider at her behaviour.

"Seriously, no one should be treated how he treats you. I mean, hey, you fucking married the woman, if you didn't want her then you should've found some other way to solve your fucking problem, my guy," Steve huffed dramatically, pleased to hear another titter from her. Anything to make her feel happy again. "He still…" she blurted out, "He still has sex with me."

Now that caught Steve off-guard. "Excuse me, what?" he whispered and Y/N looked up, surprised to see his smile gone. "Yeah. He insists, I mean— you're my wife, how dare you say no, etc. I don't— is that not normal?" Steve's jaw dropped in shock. So aside from mentally torturing her, he was also physically torturing her?!

"Mrs Silverstein." Steve twisted uncomfortably in his chair. "May I ask a question? It may be a little personal…" She figured she had nothing to lose. "Go ahead, Mr Rogers." He cleared his throat. "Do you… when you two have intercourse, do you enjoy it? Like, is it pleasurable, at all? I'm sorry for being too intrusive." Y/N grimaced, shaking her head.

"Um, no, it's fine. It's… it's not pleasurable. I don't like to have sex with him. I hate it. He's not even good at it! But I know I can't say no, I'm his wife, it's expected of me to sleep with him whenever he asks." Steve's blood started running hot. How fucking dare he? He wanted to shout, "No it's not expected of you to sleep with him when he asks, he's raping you!"

But he kept his mouth shut. It would be too much for one day; plus, they'd just met. What if she lashed out on him for even suggesting such a thing, even though that is what it was in the first place? "Ah, I see. So, um, my room…?" Y/N gasped and stood up. "Of course! Let me show you to your room, Mr Rogers." The two left the dining room, going upstairs.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in their rooms. Y/N read a book, while Steve, after roaming the house once, took a nap. As 4 pm rolled near, Y/N checked the time and stood up. She had planned on going shopping again that day, since that was the only activity she found peace and solace in.

Browsing through many items, visiting different shops… She loved it. But she'd not been to the mall in ages, all because Edmund wouldn't let her go. Now that Steve could come along, there was no harm in going there, right?

Before starting to get ready, Y/N went to Steve's room, knocking on the door. He looked up from where he was going through his social media and opened the door, smiling at Y/N. "Yes, Mrs Silverstein? Is everything okay?" She gave him a smile. "I'm actually planning on going shopping right now, and I wondered…" Steve didn't need to hear the rest of the sentence.

"I'll be ready in five minutes."

Y/N went back to her room giddy with excitement. She didn't know what it was, they'd met just that morning, but she felt happy around Steve. She felt at ease, she felt excited, and safe around him. After months, she felt like dressing up again. So Y/N took the most refreshing bath, pampered herself, put on her best dress, jewellery, makeup and also donned her best pair of heels.

Then she tied her hair up into a ponytail, keeping her ears and neck adorned with jewellery visible. Finally, an hour later, she went downstairs.

As promised, Steve had gotten ready in five minutes; meaning, for 55 minutes he’d been sitting in the living room, waiting for Y/N. But he didn’t complain once; when she walked downstairs, the clicking of her heels made him turn to her. And his jaw nearly dropped when he saw her. She looked… like a goddess. He couldn’t help but stare, his gaze appreciatively raking over her figure. Y/N’s cheeks burned under his intense gaze.

Get it together, he’s your bodyguard!

Get it together, you work for her!

He cleared his throat, meeting her eyes. “I, uh, you look nice,” he stammered, “Shall we?” She nodded and the two of them walked out of the house, heading towards the parking lot. But Y/N turned to Steve when they neared the car. “You can drive, right?” Steve chuckled, shoving his hands in the pocket of his trousers. “Very well.”

“Ah, that’s nice! So, um, Edmund took the driver with him this morning and I don’t really know how to drive, so—”

“I’ll take you, Mrs Silverstein.” She grinned at him and handed him the car keys. Like a proper gentleman, Steve first opened the door to the passenger seat for her, shutting the door when she got in. Only then did he get into the car, next to her on the driver’s seat. “Buckle up,” he joked, making her laugh as they both put their seatbelts on.

The driver Edmund had hired never followed safety protocol. Hell, she’d come close to dying on the street via a car accident multiple times, he drove recklessly but Edmund liked him, so he was never fired. Steve, on the other hand… He turned out to be a much better driver, driving carefully yet fast. The car ride to the mall was amazing. He even let her operate the radio, saying, “I’ll be happy with whatever song you play.”

Why couldn’t she have met Steve sooner? Soon they arrived at the mall; Steve parked the car and got out, opening the door for her again. When she stumbled in her heels, not having worn them for months, Steve easily grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, steadying her. Her blood rushed to her face and she apologised, pulling away.

“Don’t worry, it’s my duty to protect you, even against small injuries.” What was Steve making her feel? With him behind her, she walked into the mall, more carefree than she’d ever been. She first went to a clothes store, like the previous time.

“Mr Rogers, you can sit down if you want, you’ll tire yourself out,” she laughed when he followed her all around, even as she browsed through the racks. “But Mrs Silverstein, I’ll be worried if you’re not in my sights. That is, unless, I’m bothering you—” She swiftly shook her head no. “No no, it’s okay.” As they walked together, Y/N spotted a wonderful baby blue top. She rushed to it, picking it up.

“What do you think?” she blurted out, showing the top to Steve. His eyebrows shot up. “Man, my taste in women’s fashion is not that good, but… I bet it’ll look nice on you,” he shrugged, a big smile on his face. “Really? Well, I’ll go try it out!” Steve held his hand out. “I’ll hold it for you.” She handed him the top, looking around some more.

She found two more tops, four pairs of trousers and one skirt to try out. “This is the limit of the dressing room, I think,” she sighed as she draped the skirt over the mountain of clothes Steve was carrying. To him, it was like holding a couple of grapes. “I’ll wait here, you can go try it out.” He took her to the dressing rooms.

Y/N wanted to ask him to stay, but she thought it would be a little inappropriate. After all, he wasn’t her husband or her boyfriend, he was a bodyguard. And some of the clothing she’d picked out was… provocative, to say the least. What would everybody think if someone caught her putting on a fashion show for him, and not her husband? So she tried on all her clothes by herself.

But one of the tops she’d picked out had a zipper on the back, which unfortunately, she couldn’t reach. Plus she’d taken off her bra to wear it, since it wouldn’t have looked nice from the front. Panicking a little, she turned to the door. Should she call Steve? Well, he was her only choice, and she really wanted the top, so… Poking her head out the door, she loudly called out, “Steve?”

He appeared in front of her in an instant. “What happened?” he asked worriedly, his pale cheeks becoming red when Y/N told him the reason. “Y-You want me to… well, uh, open the door, turn around,” he stuttered, the breath leaving his lungs when she did. “Your mistress, not your girlfriend, your boss, not your wife, your mistress, not your…” he kept chanting in his head as he zipped the top.

“Done.” She looked at herself in the mirror, eyes lighting up with joy. The sheer happiness on her face made Steve smile as well; the top looked wonderful on her, but nothing could come close to her smile if he compared things that were pretty. “Buying it?” “Yup!” Steve left the room and Y/N changed into her original clothes.

Then she carried all her tryout clothes out, handing them to Steve. “I’m buying all of these!” Steve laughed along as the two walked to the cashier. With three bags full of clothes, the two of them left the store. “Ah, their new collection was so pretty! Let’s go to the jewellry store now, I want to buy some new rings.” He smiled. “As you wish, Mrs Silverstein.”

In the jewellery store, as Y/N browsed some necklaces, Steve went to check out the rings. He looked through them, smiling. Judging by the jewellery she was wearing at the time, he could tell that she loved silver instead of gold. So he picked some silver rings that he thought would look good on her, and carried them over to Y/N. "Mrs Silverstein."

She turned and gasped when she saw him holding five rings. "These are adorable," she crooned, "Thank you, Mr Rogers!" She tried on all of them, loving each and every one. Steve had impeccable taste, truly. "I love all of them, I'm buying them all," she said as a matter-of-fact, giving him a huge grin. "Ah, um, that's nice," Steve chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

Along with the five rings, she bought a necklace and two pairs of earrings. That was the only good thing about marrying Edmund; she got to spend as much money as she wanted because he always gave her a card to cover his atrocities. "Should we eat something at the cafeteria?" Steve questioned when they left the jewellery shop, because just then Y/N's stomach growled.

"I'd love to have a burger, let's go," she smiled and the two of them went to the cafeteria. There was a McDonald’s at the food court, and Y/N looked at Steve. “Does McD sound okay? I’ve not been there in ages!” He grinned. “Yeah sure, we can go there.” The two of them walked to the place.

Since it was a weekday, and office timings on top of that, the place was fairly empty. The two of them immediately found themselves in front of the cashier instead of having to stand in a big line. “Welcome to McDonald’s, how may I help you?” the cashier smiled. Y/N told her her order, which she noted down. “And for your husband?”

At that both Steve and Y/N paused. “He’s— he’s not my husband,” Y/N chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of her neck as Steve looked away, clearing his throat. “Ah, boyfriend, I’m sorry, sir,” she chuckled and Steve looked at her, eyes wide. “I— yeah, yeah,” he stammered. It was better to let her assume than explain what was actually going on.

He gave the cashier his order as well and she gave the couple another smile. “Please wait, your order will be with you soon.” Y/N nodded and they went to sit at one of the tables. “I’m sorry about back there,” he blurted out immediately as they sat. “Don’t be, it’s better to let her assume than explain all the shit of the past few months,” Y/N chuckled, waving her arm in dismissal. They sat in silence after that.

Y/N was flustered beyond belief. Steve was already having an effect on her, and when the cashier assumed he was her husband? She was done for. Why couldn't you have been my husband, Steve?

---

5 more months passed. Next month, it would have been Y/N and Edmund's 1 year anniversary. Steve still worked for the Silversteins; only, something had changed between him and Y/N. There were lingering gazes and prolonged touches; whenever Y/N happened to stumble Steve caught her, but his hold on her arm or waist lasted a tad bit longer.

Whenever they were out in public, Y/N held his arm, or just touched him in a way that was appropriate. Neither could deny what they felt for each other, what they had been feeling for each other since day one. Until one day, the tension finally broke.

They were at home that day; Edmund was out as usual, and Y/N and Steve were sitting in the garden of the mansion. Y/N was laying down on a picnic blanket looking at the cloudy sky while Steve sat next to her, a book in his hand. Her neck started hurting after a while, so she lifted her head and placed it on Steve's lap. He looked away from his book, and at her.

She wasn't looking at him. Smiling softly to himself, he kept reading as well but his hand reached up, running over her head. "Steve…" she sighed blissfully and he paused, making her look up at him. Y/N couldn't take it anymore. She wanted Steve, and she wanted him now. Especially since she knew that he returned her feelings.

Y/N sat up and straddled his lap, causing the book to fall from his hands. "Mrs Si—" he began but she shushed him, placing her index finger on his lips. "Y/N. Y/N, Steve," she whispered and he grabbed her hand, kissing her wrist. "Y/N. What are you doing?" he questioned as she snuggled closer to him, hugging him. "I want you," she mumbled, "I want you so bad, Steve…"

He knew. And he wanted her too. Also, knowing that Edmund was cheating on her on the daily was… it made it seem as though what he wanted to do to Y/N was not wrong. Justified. "Doll," he breathed out, "I want you too." He hugged her, rubbing her back. "Then take me, please, I'm all yours," she insisted, "Edmund has not made me feel in a year what you made me feel in one day."

He cupped her face. "All mine," he mumbled, "My doll." Steve leaned over and kissed her, still holding her face. She kissed back readily, her arms going around his neck as she deepened the kiss. Soon they pulled away breathless; Steve looked her in the eyes, caressing her face. "Do you really, really want this, Y/N?" She pressed her lips to his again.

"I've never been surer about anything."

"Good." With that he stood up; Y/N squealed when he carried her just how Edmund had on the day of their marriage. But this… it definitely felt much better than that. He took her to his bedroom and gently placed her down in the middle of his bed, kissing her again. "Today's all about you, sweetheart," he murmured as he began kissing his way down her body.

"Oh, Steve," she whined softly as his hands roamed her body. "You complain about how Edmund is the worst partner you've been with, well now let me show how a good partner treats the woman he is with. After I'm done you'll feel like a fucking Goddess, sweetheart, that's my promise to you." He started taking off her clothes, starting with her t-shirt.

“Look at this body,” he praised, “Look how beautiful you are, I can’t believe I get to have you all to myself.” As soon as her upper body was bare he leaned in, starting to press feather-light kisses to her collarbones. He went lower still and brushed his lips against the valley of her breasts, making a shiver run up Y/N’s spine. “Steve,” Y/N gasped when he took a nipple in his mouth, biting and sucking on it.

“I’m a lucky man,” he mumbled to himself, sitting up to take off his shirt. Y/N’s hands reached up involuntarily, her nails raking over his sturdy, hairy chest. A low growl escaped Steve’s lips at the feel and he threw his head back in ecstasy.

His hands went down to the band of her sweatpants; he yanked them lower, pulling her panties off along with them. He placed his hands on her hips and bent forward, giving Y/N a deep kiss. “Do you want me to eat you out, angel?” he asked smugly, pleased to see the flustered look on her face. She nodded shakily, but Steve tutted. “Talk to me. Yes or no?” Y/N met his yes.

“Yes,” she squeaked out, burying her face in her hands. Steve laughed softly and pushed the hands away, kissing her again. Her lips were like drugs; he was addicted already. “Good girl,” he whispered before laying down flat on his stomach, his face lined up with her wet, dripping core. “So wet for me, I love it,” he spoke amusedly, running his fingers up and down her lips.

Her hips jumped up when his finger collided with her core. “Ah ah, don’t move,” he warned her, “I want to enjoy you thoroughly, you moving isn’t gonna help.” With that, he leaned in and licked a thick stripe from her core all the way to her clit. A loud moan slipped past Y/N’s lips and her hands reached up to grab his hair. “Steve, fuck!” she screamed as he passionately ate her out. She tasted like strawberries.

“So fucking sweet, I can do this all day,” he groaned, “Mm, fuck.” He continued his ministrations until Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. “Steve, I’m gonna cum,” she whined pathetically, her legs closing around his head. He grabbed her thighs and spread them apart, somehow increasing the pace of his actions. That did it for her. With a shout of his name Y/N let go, spilling all over his tongue as her body slumped down on the bed.

It was easily her best orgasm ever. Steve definitely knew what he was doing, and he did it well. “Tired, angel?” Steve sat up, licking his lips clean. He lay down on top of her and kissed her, allowing her to taste herself. “N-No,” she stammered; she wanted more, she wanted to feel him inside her. “What’s on your mind?” She looked up at him. “I— I want—” He hummed, holding her close. “Say it clearly.”

“I want to feel you inside me,” she blurted out and he grinned. “Exactly what I’ve been waiting to hear. I promise I’ll be careful.” He took off his trousers and boxer briefs, allowing his cock to jump free. When Y/N’s eyes landed on it, she nearly gasped. Is it even possible for someone to be this big?

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” She snapped out of her thoughts and nodded. “Yes, I do, Steve.” Steve pushed her down until she was lying flat on her back, and then climbed on top of her. “It might sting a little,” he muttered as he took his cock in one hand, lining it up with her core. He then pushed in, and Y/N hissed.

Considering his size, of course it burned. But when he bottomed out inside her, all the pain was replaced by pleasure. With Edmund, the pain never really left and pleasure was non-existent. With Steve, it was the opposite. “Oh, Steve,” Y/N whimpered when he began rocking his hips back and forth. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Steve whined, dropping his head to her shoulder. He buried his face in her neck, leaving love bites in his wake.

Y/N’s entire body moved according to Steve’s thrusts. She held onto his biceps, small whimpers escaping past her lips here and there as she neared her second orgasm. “I’m already close,” Steve grunted at one point, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum…” Y/N’s breathing became laboured as she ran her fingers through Steve’s hair. “Let go with me.”

Somehow their orgasms lined up. Just as Y/N came, moaning Steve’s name, he pulled out of her and stroked himself a couple times, spilling his release all over her stomach and chest. Both of them took a minute to calm themselves down; Steve got up and went to his wardrobe, pulling out a clean towel. He ran it under hot water and went back to the bed, cleaning Y/N and himself up.

“That was so good, Stevie,” Y/N giggled when he put on his boxers and sat next to her. He chuckled and pulled her closer to him, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “You’re also the best partner I’ve been with,” he confided her in, “I wish it didn’t have to be like this, I wish we could date openly.” Y/N sighed and snuggled into his arms. “I wish it so bad, too.” They sat snuggled up for a long time, until Y/N had to go back to her room.

---

The one year anniversary came and went by. Edmund wasn’t home for it, and Y/N was pretty sure he’d forgotten. She, instead, spent the day with Steve, both of them going on a one day trip to an amusement park. Ever since the first time, they had sex almost every other night; Y/N was happier than ever. He treated her nice, catered to her every whim in bed and was also such a thoughtful boyfriend.

Until one day, when Edmund just had to ruin everything.

Steve and Y/N were in her bedroom; once again, Steve was reading a book that she recommended while Y/N, her head on his lap, was fast asleep, taking an afternoon nap. Unbeknownst to them, Edmund had come home early that day. He entered the house and looked around. Hm. Where was his wife? In her bedroom, obviously! Smiling, he went to her room but when he opened the door, he froze.

Steve looked up as well, and both of them stared at each other. Edmund saw the way his wife was curled up against Steve, safely tucked away in his arms as she slept without a care in the world. It was clear to him that the two were definitely more than mistress and bodyguard. And he felt unfathomable rage over the fact. Oh, so suddenly, he wasn’t good enough for her?

“What the fuck is going on?” Edmund whispered dangerously. But Steve stood his ground, glaring back at him. “Exactly what you think, motherfucker.” A smirk bloomed on the blond’s face as Edmund started visibly shaking with anger. “That’s my fucking wife!” he roared, “How dare you?” Hearing the scream Y/N was startled awake, and she instantly scrambled towards Steve, who gladly held her.

“Stop yelling, you’re scaring your wife,” Steve snarked and Edmund stomped his foot like a spoiled toddler. “Y/N,” he addressed her, “I’m your husband. Is this how you’re supposed to treat me?!” Y/N’s eyes filled with tears at his harsh and loud tone, and Steve saw red. “Well a husband has duties towards his wife too!” he snapped and Edmund turned to him.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

Steve stood up, towering over the man as he crossed his arms. “Do you think she doesn’t know of your nightly affairs with different women? Do you think she’s so dumb that she doesn’t know you’re out cheating on her every damn day? And she finds one person—” He pointed to himself, “Who treats her right, who’ll do anything to have her, and you lose your shit?”

Edmund’s nostrils flared. “We’re bloody married!” he countered. “Well start acting like her fucking husband then!” Steve yelled, immediately regretting it as Y/N sniffled. He turned to her and sat next to her, pulling her into his arms. “I’m sorry, dove,” he whispered, rubbing her back as she tried to catch her breath.

“I love you, Steve.” Both Steve and Edmund paused. “I love you too, “Y/N, I love you so much,” he smiled back and Y/N grabbed his face, pulling him in for a kiss. She wanted to make a point in front of Edmund— I don’t want you anymore, I have Steve. Edmund’s blood was boiling; how dare she say those three words to some other man and not her husband?

He couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing Y/N’s arm, he yanked her up and slapped her straight across the face. “You never say that to me, how dare you say that to him?!” he shouted at her. It happened so suddenly that Steve couldn’t react on time; but when he realised what had just happened his being filled with murderous rage.

Steve pushed Edmund away from her with such force that the man stumbled backwards, falling on his ass. He couldn’t even say anything; he knew if he spoke, all that would come would be expletives and such derogatory remarks that his mom would faint on the spot. Steve stood above the man and planted a kick right at his crotch, causing Edmund to groan in pain.

He kept kicking and kicking until Edmund passed out from the pain. Y/N kept watching, horrified, but she couldn’t look away. Steve, his eyes glowing red out of hatred for Edmund, knelt on the ground next to him and started throwing punches at his face. Edmund’s face was disfigured; nose broken in several directions, jaw broken and face lathered in blood. Steve couldn’t bring himself to stop.

Why did Edmund think it was a good idea to slap Y/N in front of him? Soon something shiny caught Steve’s eye in Edmund’s pocket; pulling it out, Steve smirked when he saw a gun. “Close your eyes, princess,” he warned Y/N, “This sight is not about to be pretty at all.”

That was the last time Edmund ever bothered her.

---

“Good morning, Stevie!”

Steve smiled sleepily as he walked down the stairs, seeing his girlfriend in the kitchen cooking up some breakfast. 2 years had passed since Steve murdered Y/N’s ex-husband in cold blood; they’d now moved to a different city, away from all their previous associates, to start a new life much better than the last.

Y/N had not seen her parents in two years; those were the happiest years of her life. She only needed Steve, he was enough. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I made your favourite blueberry pancakes!” she told him and he smiled again. “Thank you baby, you’re the best!”

The two of them were living a comfortable life; with Y/N having won all of Edmund’s assets in the most satisfying of all court cases, neither of them needed to have a job for the time being. They were enjoying life, even thinking about starting a family and roaming the world.

“What do you wanna do after breakfast?”

“Oh, I’ve made plans with Cassandra and Suzy, the three of us are going shopping.”

“Shopping, again?! Aw, man, I wanted to spend the afternoon cuddled up with you… anyway, are Tom and Mitch going to be there too?”

“Yes, who’s gonna carry our bags?”

“Fair point. I’ll join you.”

“Yay! I love you, Steve.”

“I love you too, Y/N, more than you’ll ever know.”

---

a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

[mythicamagic]

Heatwave: a Tododeku fanfic

Summary: Todoroki's quirk comes in very handy during a heatwave. If Izuku could just calm down enough to reap the benefits, that would be great. Tododeku

Rating: T

Words: 1,700

Read here or on Ao3

AN: First time writing for this pairing, I hope you like it! I might add another chapter to this, not sure yet.

Heatwave

Izuku Midoriya wasn't exactly the type to curse a blazing orb in the sky for inflicting Japan with a particularly nasty heatwave. He left that sort of thing to Kacchan.

However, pair intensive training with a punishing system of high atmospheric pressure baking the concrete beneath his shoes and heating his already screaming skin from the overuse of his quirk- and Izuku found himself dangerously close to hurling a complaint at the sun.

He stumbled out into harsh glaring sunlight, thankful his training session was finally over for the day. His clothes plastered to his form, skin thrumming. He patted himself down, panting.

"You're not helping," he mumbled to his trembling legs. If his limbs could co-operate, that would be great. At least he hadn't suffered any broken bones.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Izuku gingerly carried himself across the courtyard to a water fountain- taking grateful gulps.

Without thinking too much about his surroundings, Izuku leaned away and collapsed onto the nearest available bench beneath the shade of a tree. He boldly sprawled onto the wood, letting it cushion his back- hinting at his state of exhaustion. Izuku never liked to take up too much unnecessary space.

The second soft curling hair met something sturdy beneath his head- he probably should've jolted away.

Oh...wow.

But a cool- frosty sensation bit into the back of his neck, heavenly upon heated, abused flesh. A faint gasp escaped him, swallowing a relieved groan.

He only knew one person at UA who could elicit such a cold temperature.

Tilting his head back, Izuku squeaked.

Todoroki didn't look up from his book, seemingly immersed in it. Faint flecks of snow and frost coated his right side, likely in use to keep him cool.

And I'm mooching off it!

"A-ah! I'm so sorry, Todoroki!" whipping his head up so fast his vision spun, Izuku shifted slightly to face him on the bench. "I didn't realise you were there- and not in a bad way! I don't mean to say that you don't have a presence- because you do! You're very striking and cool and-"

"You can lay back down again if you want to, it's not a big deal."

Panicked words caught in Izuku's throat mid-ramble.

Green eyes blinked, sliding downwards. Lay back down? But his head had been cushioned by Todoroki's thigh. Practically in his lap.

Todoroki appeared unruffled, tearing a calm, languid gaze from his book. His expression remained unreadable. "It's hot."

"Huh?"

"The weather."

"Oh! Yes, it sure is!" Izuku winced, loathing the squeak in his voice. Oh to have a quirk that could allow the ground to swallow him up.

Todoroki blinked slowly like a contented cat, tilting his head. "So...I don't mind sharing my quirk…" he elaborated, gesturing with one hand to his right, frosty side.

Izuku gazed at the layer of white clinging to Todoroki's leg, hip and arm. His heart warmed, stomach doing a somersault. "You'd really do that? But I'm… well, I'm kind of gross and sweaty from all the training," he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I wouldn't have offered if I thought you were gross, Midoriya."

He stilled, caught off guard by the statement. Todoroki had a way of being incredibly direct, but it never really bothered him. Especially at times like these. Todoroki was incredibly kind, more so than he'd likely admit.

Due to the sun melting his nerves, Izuku accepted the offer readily with a hearty 'thank you!' Laying down again, he fought not to slump with relief and exhaustion the second his nape and damp hair met the solid, cold muscle of Todoroki's thigh.

Heterochromia eyes watched him briefly, before sliding back to his open book and continuing to read.

Screaming internally, Izuku fiddled with his hands, settling with lacing them upon his stomach. The silence roared loudly.

This doesn't have to be weird. He's just a friend. Friends do this kind of thing all the time, right?

Well, none of his friends. Todoroki was usually quite reserved with physical affection, Iida expressed himself through verbal concern or encouragement, and Uraraka did similarly since she worried about activating her quirk with the use of her hands. When she patted him on the back it was with a well placed palm.

But he'd observed Kaminari, Kirishima and Ashido, and they were aggressively touchy-feely in comparison, slinging their arms around their friends and lounging against each other.

Izuku tried not to take this rare moment for granted. He needed to talk about something. Anything!

"Ah- that's Hero's Journey volume 9!" he exclaimed, tilting his head back to sneak a peek at the cover of the book. "How are you enjoying it?"

Todoroki lifted a shoulder, "it's alright. I figure volume 10 will wind down with covering Hero retirement since this one is about marriage and kids. It's a little naïve in places though."

Sobering, Izuku instinctively switched gears, forgetting his embarrassment and nodding seriously. "I get what you mean. It doesn't go into nearly enough detail about what having a family can be like for Pro Heroes. Most of the top Heroes in the rankings either don't have kids or are estranged from them."

"Yeah...but I was referring more to the part where it speculated about pairing existing heroes together and imagining what quirk their children would have. It skipped over Quirk Marriages like they were nothing."

Reading the heaviness in Todoroki's voice, dark brows pulled together. Izuku tilted his head, injecting conviction into his tone. "When we make it as heroes, we can talk more about it. Shed light on the issue."

Mismatched eyes flicked down, meeting his. They warmed just a little, the corner of Todoroki's mouth tilting up at the corner.

"You almost sound a little heated there," he teased.

"Aha," Izuku scratched a freckled cheek, "was that weird? I'm not personally affected by it so it's probably none of my business- but I know it's important to you. I get riled up on your behalf."

"Don't overthink it- I'm glad when you do. Reminds me of when you screamed at me during the Sports Festival."

"H-hey, I didn't scream..."

"It was definitely a scream."

"A loud yell, maybe."

Todoroki gave a small noise that sent Izuku reeling, toes curling at the sound. Holy shit- that that been a chuckle?

"Anyway, I won't be having kids unless I adopt," the Half-Cold Half-Hot user muttered, circling back to the real conversation. "So this volume probably doesn't apply to me much."

"Really? I can imagine Endeavor not liking that," Izuku hummed, sharing a mischievous smile with him. "But then, you've never set out to do anything for his specific approval. You're living your life, with your quirk."

Something cool and smooth met his forehead like a soft icepack. It took a moment for him to realise that it was Todoroki's palm settling over his bangs. Izuku went completely still, speechless.

"You still looked warm, I thought this would help," Todoroki glanced away, holding his book with one hand. Was it just Izuku's imagination or did his unscarred cheek look slightly red? It was hard to tell from the angle without craning his head back even more upon Todoroki's lap and he was currently working on trying not to hyperventilate.

Hand. On head. Touching!

He positively combusted when a thumb started to stroke his damp brow currently marred with sweat, rubbing gently at the bridge of his nose. Izuku's freckled cheeks blazed red.

"You're doing that thing again where you get worry lines here," Todoroki muttered, continuing to move the pad of his thumb for emphasis. It felt so gentle. His skin sighed at the touch.

"I-I was just...hoping this wasn't inconveniencing you or anything…" Izuku lied, voice thin. Oh no. Those darn jitters and confusing feelings were acting up again, sending a migration of butterflies up from his stomach into his throat.

For a while, it had been hard to pinpoint that he got flustered around Uraraka because she was a girl- a pretty girl- and one that paid attention to him, but it didn't go much deeper than that in terms of romance.

Todoroki was different. When Izuku thought about him, he admired his strength and values- how far he'd come in owning his successes and slowly breaking free from the shackles of the past- but such thoughts were accompanied with a weird yearning.

Todoroki was one of a kind. Beautiful when he flourished. Izuku admired him as a fellow student and rookie hero. But then the jitters came, followed by sweaty palms and a deep yearning. A yearning for what, Izuku hadn't been able to fathom. He just felt like brushing the hair out of Shouto's eyes or leaning against him or-

- or kissing the exposed skin of his neck. That would be nice.

Swallowing thickly, his heart stuttered when that thumb paused.

Dark grey/turquoise eyes shifted back to him. Todoroki remained unreadable, sometimes able to be a calm sheen of ice- others an explosive force of passion and anger. "Like I kind-of said before, I wouldn't do this if you were inconveniencing me. I just wanted to do it."

You...wanted to touch me?

"Besides," he continued in a quieter tone, "you're the one who encouraged me to act like this. Embracing all aspects of myself and being more upfront with stuff."

Izuku felt the need to say something despite the dryness of his tongue. "I'm glad," he exhaled slowly, feeling as if he were talking robotically- heart going a million miles an hour. "Because it's nice. I uh, I really like it."

That's an understatement of the century.

Todoroki didn't say anything more, but his thumb resumed stroking the worry lines on Izuku's brow, smoothing them out. Izuku blinked, smiling a little. Lulled into a relaxed state, dark-green lashes drifted half-closed. They then shut completely, tension leaking out of his overworked body. Warm breaths evened out.

Unbeknownst to him, Todoroki set down his book and reclined slightly against the bench, gazing at Izuku's sleeping face before looking at high branches. He tilted his head back, appreciating the refreshing summer breeze and basking in the dappled sunlight that played over his face and the freckles of his long-time crush.

[whaleofatjme1920]

(Letter to spy, platonic, im a relative of miss pauling, im also heavily crushing on scout)

Dear, spy

Or whatever your real name is. How are you doing? Hows the team? How is... Jeremy doing? I wanted to write a letter to engie at first but i figured he would be busy so i decided to just write one to you :)

Pauling is sick right now and the administrator wants me to replace her in over seeing you folks for a bit. Pauling really wants to go but im forcing her to stay put in bed or else her flu and fever is gonna get a whole lot worse. Im, of course, trying my best to take care of her, i got my moms best soup recipe out and im writing this as im cooking hehe.

Will be seeing you and the gang soon, tell jeremy i said hi please.

-lots of kinda friendly love,

Allison <3

Ps.

Im bringing extra soup, trust me its good soup.

[Disclaimer: Letters To Those you Hold Dear is a special event I'm holding from December 9th - December 21st at 11:59 PM. Find guidelines here so you can send a letter or two to those you hold dear <3]

Chère Allison,

I hope this letter finds you well and in good health. My true name is none of your concern, you do not need to address me by it. Myself and the team are doing as well as you expect us to be doing around the holidays. Helen has been relatively gracious with us and paused the matches. While I enjoy my work, it is admittedly nice to have some time to myself in my smoking room. Jane and Pyro are driving me mad, but I do enjoy speaking with Dell every now and then. He's surprisingly well versed in the arts. Dell isn't that busy. I am more than certain he would love to speak with you.

Anyways, Jeremy is doing just fine. He's excited for Smissmas and has been talking about it nonstop. He sent out some packages for his mother and his horde of brothers as he won't be back home in Boston until after the actual day. I'll be heading with him to pay ma petit chou fleur a visit. Do you have a specific message for me to tell Jeremy? I'm more than certain you do. I'll say you miss him very much and can't wait to see him again, how happy he makes you - I jest.

Or do I?

I hope Miss Pauling feels better soon. I can't remember the last time that poor woman had a break. Take care of her for... All of us and our sakes. Tell your mother I said thank you in advance.

Je vous envoie mes amicales pensées,

S.

P.S. Of course I'll let him know you said hello. I can't get him to sit down when he has an inkling you've asked about him. I think he likes you.

[spencersawkward]

Hii I'm backkk but can I request a little shower sex fic with mgg and he finds out reader has a choking kink? No Dom vibes but just reader loves to be choked and doesn't know how to ask? Maybe a praise kink tho? Please and thank you! 💕🙈

yes fs! y'all i had the shittiest day today lol but writing this made me feel so much better :) anyway i hope i did your concept justice! 

summary: Matthew comes home early and tries something new with reader.

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, choking, praise kink, finger-fucking, masturbation, creampie. pretty much just pure smut. 

word count: 2.1k

the water turns hot beneath my fingers as I stand in the middle of the bathroom, my clothes still on. it's been an exhausting day and the only thing on my mind is the image of scalding water on my skin. after being pulled from one meeting to the next without much of a break, all I need is some relief. I feel as though my limbs have been stretched like taffy.

I watch the steam start to issue from the shower, inhale deeply as the air gets warmer. I let my hair down and begin to strip off the garments that have kept me prisoner all day. there's an actual sigh that comes from my chest once I'm completely naked, just looking at myself in the mirror.

I'm about to hop in when I hear something of a commotion downstairs. Matthew was supposed to be at work until later this evening, so my heart stops at the sound of the front door slamming shut.

"Y/N!" the sound of his voice sets me at ease. I feel a small, excited smile spread over my face. I've been thinking about him all day, daydreaming during meetings, even. we've been together for a while, now, but the idea of him still fills my stomach with butterflies.

"about to hop in the shower!" I open the bathroom door and call out to him. his footsteps get closer and closer until Matthew is standing right in front of me, tall and pretty and grinning. the top button of his shirt is open. his eyes flicker over my figure and I go to hug him.

"hi, beautiful girl." he kisses the top of my head while he wraps his arms around my waist. he smells like fresh air and that cologne I like.

"hi." I force myself to pull away, look at him more closely.  

"I wasn't expecting this." he refers to my naked greeting, though not unappreciatively. I giggle.

"oh zip it, mister," I turn and grab his hand, tugging him with me into the bathroom. his eyebrows rise at the sight of the steam that's starting to fill the space, but I speak before he can tease. “do you wanna join me?"

he's already taking off his clothes. the shirt goes first, slipping over that delicious torso and landing on the counter. then the pants, the mismatched socks, the boxers. I bite down on my lip as I watch, every feature mine for the taking. he straightens up and smiles.

"what?" he asks. I step closer and touch his face. my eyes must be the size of saucers right now, so in love and full of stars, although I couldn't care less.

"I'm just glad you're here."

he gazes at me a moment, placing his fingers over mine and turning his head to kiss my palm.

"I'm also glad that I'm here," he laughs. I snatch my hand away jokingly, but he takes it again. "ready?"

he opens the shower door and I brush past, yelping a bit when he slaps my ass on the way in. he avoids the waterfall at first, wincing when a couple stray drops land on his skin. "that's way too hot, baby."

"mmm," I frown, but turn the knob to cool it down. "fine."

"I missed you." he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear while I stand beneath the waterfall. his eyes follow the rivulets pouring over the curves of my body, hungry to touch me in the same way. I pull him to me, dragging him under the narrow shower stream.

"I missed you, too." the words come out between kisses. I love winding my fingers through his curls when they're all wet; they get plastered to his forehead in this funny way that's simply too adorable. his hands tug my waist closer, one of them moving down to grab my butt.

"yeah?" he slides his tongue over my bottom lip. "how are you doing?"

"honestly," I remove my mouth just enough for us to nuzzle our noses. "kind of shitty."

"noo," it's said like a whine as he pouts. "what happened?"

"can I tell you later? I don't really wanna think about it right now."

"of course," he smiles gently, once again pressing our lips together in a smooth, delicate swoop. "would you rather think about the fact that we're both naked?" his tongue finds my earlobe. "and we have all--" over my throat. "night--" his stubble brushes my shoulder. "long?"

my knees go weak.

"yes, please." I hum with satisfaction as the pad of his thumb brushes over my nipple. I can feel his erection against my stomach, begging to be touched. and all I want to do is give him something, but he's got all attention on me right now. cupping my ass and holding me to him, grinding our bodies together slightly.

he lets out a lazy groan into my neck before sinking his teeth in. he stops himself, however, to reach between us and run his middle finger down my slit. I hiss in a breath when he pauses at my clit.

"you're so wet." he smirks. I blush and resist the urge to hit him playfully for the stupid double entendre. he's cute.

"ridiculous." I laugh, but it turns into a high-pitched moan because he starts to play with my pussy like it's his fucking job. the water streaming down my back only adds to the sensation. warmth all around me when I grab his forearm as it rests over my stomach. I need it for stability, even as his index dips into my entrance with ease.

"you want more?" he's dexterous in his movements, finding ways to stimulate me while sliding in and out at the same time. I move against his touch and he inserts another digit. my eyes roll into the back of my head. I couldn't speak if I tried; he's too good.

"I love how you feel around my fingers." he moans in my ear. I let go of his arm to find his cock, grabbing the base, starting to jerk him off. he moans at the contact and starts to fuck my hand while getting me off simultaneously. I look up at him while he does it, water droplets sliding off the edge of my nose from the steady stream of hot water. his lips are swollen from claiming me. I wish that I could touch and capture this image all at once, the way he looks.

I feel myself nearing the edge as the rhythm of his circles gets more intense. my legs are slightly shaky but the knowledge that I've got his dick in my grasp is enough to keep me standing. I love pleasuring Matthew. he's so confident and sweet all the time that when he comes undone, it's like watching a painting come together. every line and complexity of his expression is more vivid.

I gasp as I fall apart on him.

"I'm--" I whimper, sighing as I cum. he smirks eagerly, increasing his pace still as if to torture me with another orgasm.

"good girl," he murmurs, entranced. "keep cumming."

"fuck me--" I inhale. "fuck me now."

"don't have to ask me twice." he smiles, removing himself and pushing me against the wall of the shower. the cold tiles cause goosebumps to travel over my skin, but they're quickly forgotten as Matthew kisses me and holds my leg up.

"tell me if you want me to change positions, okay?" he mutters as he aligns himself. even in his sexual stupor, he makes sure I'm comfortable. we never have shower sex because it's usually impractical; this is a special occasion. I nod and then his tip is pushing into me. he's quick to sheathe himself, dropping his head onto my shoulder and letting out a loud, lascivious moan.

"oh my fucking god." he breathes, starting to thrust. I dig my nails into his shoulders from the intensity.

"that's so deep." I moan. he's pleased with that thought, going a little harder to brush over my cervix.

"there it is." he chuckles darkly at the sound of my heavy breathing, knowing he's found that spot. his fingers slip over my waist, grasping roughly at me in the wetness of the shower. somehow, he's still careful. I buck for more and he whimpers at the feeling of my impatient body. all I want is to cum on him again, and I know he wants to find that release.

"you're perfect." his movements are so well-executed, our stomachs and chests pressed together. I'm standing on my tiptoes for him, but it's not uncomfortable. he's holding one leg up for better access. my back moves up the wall at the force of him.

"fuck..." I throw my head back against the tile and Matthew's eyes flicker to my hickey-scattered neck. he bites his lip.

"pretty marks." he smirks. I look at him deeply for a moment, at the vein in his forehead and the tense of his shoulders as he fucks me, and I feel the pressure build in my stomach. I know what I need and I've never shared it before-- but god, do I need it. I don't know how to tell him where.

instead, my hand finds his, guiding it up to my throat. his fingers wrap around the column slowly and he raises his eyebrows.

"you want me to choke you, sweetheart?" he asks, pace getting faster. I nod. he follows through, tightening his grip just enough to allow me the room to breathe without imposing too much, and I feel myself get even more aroused. Matthew keeps glancing between his touch to the euphoric smile on my face, and he goes harder on me.

"you look so fucking beautiful like that," he pants. every time his hips slam into mine, I feel myself losing control. "with my hand around your throat."

I squirm and hold onto his arm again for balance while he works me like he knows my body better than I do. he lifts my leg a little higher and the angle changes slightly, causing us to both let out pleasured noises.

"always so tight for me." he holds our foreheads together and swallows my heavy breaths. we move so easily, him and I. like we've always done this. we fit together. I can't get enough of his skin.

"Matthew..." I whine, trying so hard to meet his thrusts. he's fucking enormous as he stretches my walls. the first time we had sex, he wasn't able to get all the way inside until we had almost reached our climaxes. but now I'm always able to take him. even though he sometimes leaves a dull ache in the morning.

"too tight?" he asks carefully, removing the pressure. I shake my head and bring it back to me. he lets out something like a laugh, although he's too wrapped up in his pleasure to really commit to it. "tighter?"

"mhmm." I love how it feels, as though he's boxing me in. it's just him and I, my touch wandering over his back. I squeeze around him to feel the warm pressure moving into me.

"that's my girl." Matthew smiles, using his grip on my neck to lift my mouth to his for a kiss. I moan as he continues to hit my g-spot over and over, the feeling almost blinding. if we could stay like this, his body shoving so voraciously, forever, I would be happy.

every moment is electrified. I can feel his cock in the deepest part of me while he moans my name and drowns me in compliments, his thrusts starting to get erratic. his thumb is rubbing gently over the skin of my neck in a gesture of tenderness, even as he just slightly cuts off my airway. it's heavenly. we hold eye contact.

"such a sweet girl." he's messy and I can't stop whimpering as I start to pulse around his length. I feel my orgasm coming fast and hard, like a wave, and the stress from earlier washes away from my muscles. every place he touches is like the unwinding of a string, a loosening that I've been needing.

"I'm close." I whisper. his thrusts are pushing me up the wall so hard that my toes leave the ground a little. I'm not complaining as he propels his body to mine.

"me, too, baby. cum on it." he groans at the pulsating sensations, his lips pressed to my cheek while he lets out sinful, delightful noises. I pull him under the tide, clenching my pussy around him again and again until he shudders and his jaw drops.

"oh fuck, baby..." he moans in my ear. I can feel his seed inside, him stilling as the muscles in his shoulders jump. my fingers loop around his neck to help support him while he loses it all, and I can feel the quickness of his pulse. his grip lowers from my neck and then we're just caught in a warm embrace in the shower, breathing in steam and the scent of our skin.

"wow." I run my fingers through his hair.

"I had no idea you were into that." he lifts his head to smile a little at me.

"I didn't know if you would be okay with it." I shrug.

"it's hot." he smiles and we start to kiss all over again, just the two of us.

[gwaean]

The Rescuers  

Part One: “Old acquaintances meet again"

 Summary: You are a mandalorian rebel friends with Captain Rex so you are well aware of the entire "clone situation" going on. And of course you want to help as much as you can. You then go to Ryloth trying to help the Syndulla's and maybe find your old friend Cody. 

 Pairing: None. Yet. But will be a Crosshair x Reader.

 Gender: There'll be no mentions of gender or pronouns on this part yet. Though further in the story it might have she/they pronouns used.

 Word count: 1.6k

 Tags: Injury recover, post-clone wars story, rescuing clones/friends, a bit of melancholy?

 Warning: Brief description of injury.

 Notes: So, I literally dreamed most parts of this story (I know, crazy Star Wars obsession here). I filled up some parts as I was writing of course. And it turned out a bit like a beautiful sad tragic. I might even do a playlist for this fanfic actually. Hope u enjoy it :) 

 The war, the republic, the jedi all have ended. Literally on the same day. And what it seemed like a fresh start, finally a moment of peace in the chaos turned into nightmares. You weren’t there when it happened, you just heard the news of Obi-Wan saying the jedi order and the republic had fallen and you also heard the now Emperor Palpatine telling everyone that the clone wars has ended and the jedi were traitor, they’ve tried to assassinate him according to well… himself. And now he’s forming this new galactic empire, giving people numbers like the ones clones used to have and killing off any resistance against this new order. Everyone seemed to believe him, you gotta give him that he was a pretty damn’ good  liar indeed. But you knew better than that. You are mandalorian after all and were friends with no one less than Duchess Satine and Senator Padmé. You helped them countless times in their diplomatics and you even fought with the jedi and the clones at times. They were good people, yes, the order might have messed up at lot but traitors? Murders? They sure didn’t deserve to die like that and I guess… No one does.

  You quickly then joined the rebellion. There you found many of former politics like Senator Organa and even a clone… Captain Rex (or is it Commander now?). You’ve met him once before and he seemed like a good person and looks like he’s really a great man just like you thought. You soon became friends. But sadly, the other clones you knew before like Cody were still with the empire. Though both you and Rex were very determinate to help others like him. And also, obviously, protect your allies against the empire.

  Well, as expected trouble begins. There’s been rumors about what’s going in Ryloth with the Syndulla’s and the empire occupation. Worried about them and their people, you go there to help as you can. And if there’s need, you’d call more rebels to help too though you didn’t want to envolve more people yet because you’re afraid of the reaction it could cause ( and what that would cost for ryloth and its people). You also have a tiny tiny hope that maybe just maybe Cody could be there.

  Arriving in Ryloth, you discover the Syndulla family have indeed oppose agains the empire occupation and they’ve went into a lot of trouble because of that but apparently a group of mercenaries (?) have already rescued them from the prison they were sent to. One less problem for you to fix I guess. You were glad for them but you still want to spy a little on the empire and see what you could find out after all, the trip couldn’t be for nothing.

  You find your way and get to a particular high hill with a great view of one imperial base. You pick up your binoculars and the only person you see in a sort of balcony is a very depressive-looking Crosshair. You remember him from that one time clone force 99 saved your butt from the mess you’ve yourself in. He was… quite unfriendly, let’s say. But he did get the job done and made sure you were okay so you just ignored his behavior. Looking at him now it was looking at a shadow of him. 

   It made you remember what Rex told you once: 

“We clones were all created with this chip thing in our my minds. We were made for the war and the war only but apparently someone thought it would be great if they let us think we've got free will. That we could be anything we wanted to be after the war. So we made friends, some of us found a family with our jedi. They let we hope. Just so we have all of that taken away from us with order 66. The war had ended for everyone except for us. We had our will taken from us, our minds controlled by this chip and we had to follow orders. While we're still there conscious of what we were doing we had to kill the people we fought together the entire war. I remember her face... I'm so glad she didn't see my face. I couldn't bare.” 

 Thinking about what all the clones been through, you can’t just leave him like this. He did save you once and this was your chance to repay that. Rex keeps saying we can’t save everyone (more to himself than to you) but one person is better than nobody, right?  At the time you improvise a plan: neither the empire nor Cross can’t know yet that you’re a rebel. You haven’t done anything yet incriminating (at least not that they were aware of). So you can just jump in there where he was standing and talk to him. Worst case scenario he ignores you. However you sure knew how to annoy him enough that at least he would call you out and when that happens you act. Ok, that you still have to figure out exactly how you would act. Well, half of a plan is better than no plan.

  You just jump in behind his back and of course he points his gun at you as expected. But he apparently recognizes who it’s standing in front of him and put his riffle down. 

   “ Hello there.”  You say.

   “What do you think you’re doing?”  He replies.

   “Oh, please, don’t act like you aren’t happy to see me.” 

     He gives you a faint of a smile. “Don’t flatter yourself.” 

     You smiled back. “But seriously, what you’re doing here all alone? And why- You finally noticed the burn mark on his now bald head. - are you like this? Doesn’t the empire takes care of its soldiers? Nor your squad? The bad batch, right? That’s what you called yourselves?” 

     His face closes again. “You have nothing to do with that. I’m-” 

     “By yourself?” You pause for a moment. “Alright, I get it. You’ve probably been through a lot. We all have. Not sure why you’re like this but it doesn’t matter right now. I just wonder… Don’t you want to get out of all of this?” 

     Cross pauses for a moment. It seems like he's considering the possibility. “I… I can’t.” 

     “But…”  You then think. You remind yourself of how protective he was that one time you were saved by them. Maybe this instinct was still there, you had to try. You saw a pointed rock close to where you were standing and decided that you would accidentally cut yourself. “Ouch!” 

    “What’s up?” 

    “Oh! Nothing! Just might have cut myself here.” You show your hand now with a bit bigger than you expected cut and some blood.

     He almost laughs at it. “What a little clumsy one you are, eh?” 

     His mocking at you, that’s something, right? “Yeah, I guess….” 

     “Well, let’s go?”  He points to the door.

     “Go where?” 

     “Don’t you wanna take care of that, sweetheart?” 

     “Right, medical bay then?” 

     “Obviously.”  Perfect. He would be right where you needed him to be.

  The both of you enter the facility and walk directly to the medical bay. The empire base is pretty much a bland dark and boring military base with some troopers walking around, some commanders (you think) yelling at the soldiers and some droids doing whatever they have to do. You knew only that they were “r - unities” but droids weren’t exactly your area of expertise. However you do notice that the troopers walking around still wear the same clone armor from back the war. And you feel guilty. Because as much as you’d like you won’t be able to help them all. They’ll stay there with their chips on being controlled by the empire…. By the force, that was a hole guilty trip you knew you shouldn’t take. It wasn’t your fault. No, no. They did this. Palpatine and his men were the monsters. Not you. And certainly not these poor clones. One day, yes, one day maybe you could come back and save them?

 “Hmmm…. You wanna me to do this?”  Cross says. You were so distracted in your thoughts you don’t even realized you were already in the medical bay.

 “Oh. You don’t have to.” 

 “It's fine. I’m used to do this anyway.” 

  “Ok. Be my guest then?” 

  “Wow, you’re so funny.” He jokes.

  “Whatever. Just do your thing.” 

  “Give me your hand.”  

 You give him your hand and he takes it. And to your surprise he’s very gentle while taking care of your wound. He applies some alcohol pads to clean the wound. And as he presses the wound to stop the bleeding you reach for your gun and keep looking at his face. His very concentrated. It’s almost like the rest of the galaxy doesn’t matter. He’s only there at the moment focused on helping you. And you’re trying to plan how you’re gonna knock him out to take his chip off.

 “Now I’m gonna get some stuff to make a bandage for ya, ok?” He says and turns his back. Now is you chance. You turn your blaster to stun only and shoots. He falls. 

 “I’m sorry. But there’s no other way.” You whisper as if he’s actually listening. 

 It takes some effort (seriously, Crosshair's heavier than he looks) but you manage to put him on one these surgical stretchers. You also have to learn super quick how to use the pad control to see where the chip’s in and take it off. But it’s done. And you wait and wait… For what it seemed like hours though it was only like 15 minutes.

And he wakes up very confused.

[sapph1re]

Infernos Mirror

In April of 2021, I started writing a Red Queen fanfic that I completely forgot about but I found it again. So I'm going to post it on here despite it being about an OC and only 1,097 words. I think I was writing it for wattpad maybe? Its chapters so yeah. Also I think I was writing it as a slow burn with Maven- a very slow burn. Anyways, sorry for ranting. Here's the first chapter. Enjoy :)

The tears are fake. A room full of highly educated Silvers and nobody seems to notice that the tears are fake. My eyes roam for a moment, jumping between the Nobles ahead, the guards behind, and my best friend beside me. Ultimately, they land where everyone else is looking. Queen Elara, drying her eyes of fake tears with a piece of cloth that is probably worth more than me.

Why she is crying is even more unbelievable than the tears themself. “This morning we saw a miracle. We watched a red girl fall into the arena like a bolt of lightning, wielding power she should not have.” Elara pauses for theatrics and to wipe away another forced tear.

“The king and I interviewed the girl extensively, trying to discover how she came to be.” I look towards my friend Mare, the fallen red girl, knowing she would have a reaction to this. After all, they did not, in fact, interview her, they ripped open her brain as they did to me 10 minutes later. I cringe at the memory of just a few hours ago and I see Mare have a similar reaction before the Queen speaks again.

“During this interview, we found another impossibility, another red girl; with abilities like ours. Two impossibilities, two sisters.” The silence of the room breaks and people start whispering to each other. About the fallen red girl and her supposed sister. And of course, that sister is me. Myself and Mare aren’t really sisters, but the lie makes our powers seem more realistic than the alternative.

“They are not red, but they are still miracles. My friends, please welcome back to us Lady Mareena Titanos and Lady Koralyne Titanos, daughters of Ethan Titanos. Lost and now found.” The Queen waves us over and we obey, hearing the applause as we get closer.

‘Koralyne Titanos’ is not my name. My name is Kory. Kory Dennings.

The moment before we dive face first into a sea of Silvers, Mare takes my hand in hers and I give a reassuring smile, hoping to calm her nerves a bit. I’m worried for our fake lives to be public but I’ve had more practice at hiding my emotions. Mare, not so much.

I’m glad our guards don't follow us out. I’m enough of a spectacle with the Queens story and the extravagant purple and silver dress they shoved me into. Apparently, in the world of wealth and power, each house has colours; the House of Titanos’ colours are Purple and Silver, hence the semi matching dresses Mare and I are wearing. Along with layers and layers of White paint to hide our natural dark skin. To make us more like a Silver.

The Queen gestures us into some empty seats in the front row of the crowd, I sit down as quickly as I can while still trying to keep up some sort of Silver Mask. The Queenstrial girls watch us probably wondering why we are so important and if we are going to steal the precious Calore Princes from them.

I mean, it is quite fitting. Two “miracle sisters” with two royal brothers, but that's not what's going to happen. Mare is about to pledge herself to Maven, the younger Calore brother. While the heir to the throne, Tiberias Calore The Seventh is going to do the same with a girl named Evangeline Samos who almost killed Mare and the reason we are here.

“Saved from their parents' fate, Lady Mareena and Lady Koralyne were taken from the front and brought to a red village not ten miles from here'' The King now speaks. “Raised by red parents, they worked as red servants. And until this morning they believed they were. Mareena and Koralyne were diamonds in the rough, working in my own palace, the twin daughters of my late friend under my nose.” Mare and I are not twins. I am eight months older than her, not that anyone would notice.

“But no more. To atone for my ignorance, and to repay their father and their house for their great contributions to the kingdom, I would like to take this moment to announce the joining of House Calore and the resurrected House Titanos.” A loud gasp echoes from the girls of the Queenstrial. I was right, they think we are going to steal the Princes from them. I almost roll my eyes. But Mare, on the other hand, looks worried that they are going to murder us or something. I’d like to see them try.

Maven steps forward and some tension in the room deflates. He looks defeated but still regal somehow. “Lady Mareena,” he says. Mare gives me one last shaky look before rising and facing him.

“In the eyes of my royal father and the noble court, I would ask for your hand in marriage. I pledge myself to you, Mareena Titanos. Will you accept?” He recites the words he has been taught probably since birth.

“I pledge myself to you, Maven Calore. I accept.” Mare quivers. I doubt anyone else noticed it but I did. A little perk of being around someone for most of their life.

Maven sits back in his seat and Mare back in hers beside me. Cal, the eventual king, now stands. I feel more eyes on me, expecting him to say my name, pledge himself to me as Maven did to Mare. I’m glad that's never going to happen.

“I am my fathers heir, born to privilege and power and strength. You owe me your allegiance, just as I owe you my life. It is my duty to serve you and my kingdom as best as I can- and beyond.” He pauses his perfected speech. When he does, I take a second to look over at Maven, I don't know why, but I do. I’m usually really good at reading people but I can't read him. He looks emotionless, staring at his brother. It intrigues me. I wonder if I look like that when I’m hiding my emotions.

“I need a queen who will sacrifice just as much as I will, to maintain order, justice and balance.” Another pause, this one for drama, suspense. Keeping everyone on the edges of their seats.

“Lady Evangeline.” He says. Some are surprised that he didn’t call my name but others are not, knowing that Evangeline is undeniably the better option. They repeat the same words as the couple before them and each go back to their seats. The elder prince has a charming smile plastered on his face.

[six-sanctuary]

Homecoming (Will Miller x Reader)

Author’s note: I’ve never written a fic before but was HEAVILY inspired by all the amazing content @lucrezia-thoughts and @charnelhouse generate (Super hope that's okay!) and wanted to try my hand at it and contribute to Triple Frontier Fr-saturday. (I know I'm a day late whoops)

Also I suck at proofreading I’m so sorry for any errors and hope someone enjoys this. Lowkey proud of myself for not being obnoxiously shy and just saving this to my desktop somewhere for eternity.

Anyways here we go no more rambling this is the fic. If I still dig it later on I might write some more in this lil universe either with Will/Reader or throw in some Benny/reader. Maybe even Santiago/reader if I can get his voice right.

Below the cut is 18+ only please and thanks!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You’d always been there, and you always would. It was the sort of realization that crept up slowly on Will. Looking back he wishes he could count the times he counted on you. He wishes he could put it into something concrete like numbers, something that he could wrap his head around, but you were there even before the numbers.

You were there before he was shipped off to war, before he had to learn to count as he breathed, in… two… three… four… five… hold… two… three… four… five…. out… two… three… four… five…. You were there before he broke and crumbled, falling into a million little pieces he didn’t know how to put back together again.

He wished he knew the number of warm smiles you’d given him. He wished he knew what number it took for him to fall in love, whether it was the hundredth or hundredth thousandth soft smile. All he knows now is that so much time was wasted, and he didn’t want to lose a second more.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You’d moved to Colorado a few months ago. It had always been part of the plan but that timeline got moved up when Will’s parents announced they were selling the house in favor of something smaller now that they were empty nesters. For a solid week, Will hummed and hawed about it, flip flopping back and forth. The thought of giving up something that was so integral to his childhood, something that had always meant home for him, was hard.

After weeks of his thinly veiled discontent, you came to a solution. After one of his talks, you sat him down in the dining room table of your apartment together and laid out the documents one by one. Rather than explain right away, you let Will take them all in, grabbing each one and skimming it before moving on to the next piece of paper.

“This is…. To buy the house?” Will’s thumbs smoothed over the paper as if in need of a reminder that they were real, that this was real. “My parent’s place?” His voice was thick with emotion, which never failed to bring it out of you. Rather than answer in words and risk your voice failing you, you nodded.

From there it was a lot of packing, a lot of hard work, but with the Delta Force boys help you two managed to get everything packed up in a hauler, ready to make the trek halfway across the country. The thought of being holed up in the car for hours on end with Benny made you the slightest bit nervous. The younger Miller was a bundle of energy and while you appreciated that most of the time, you were wary about being stuck in cramped quarters with the lightning bolt of a man. In the end the cars were split with you and Santiago taking Will’s Ford and Will and Benny driving the Uhaul.

You had a week of the gang’s help, well the gang minus Frankie. He had to head back a few days early to his wife and daughter. The others stayed, even Tom, though he was quick to point out several “serious”problems with the house that you’d need to look into. Despite that, it already felt like home. Sure it needed your and Will’s touch on the place, and a number of things had gone into disrepair as the Millers got older. At some point it had become too much for them, but it was the perfect project for a newlywed couple.

Not once did you regret it. Not when you were lugging heavy boxes up the stairs nor when you learned the roof needed to be replaced. No, each problem was taken in stride because you knew with Will by your side, you’d get through it. There was nothing the two of you could not conquer.

Soon the novelty of the new house wore off and with Benny back at his apartment down the street and Santiago and Frankie back home, you and Will fell into a quiet domesticity. You lived in pieces, your life wrapped up in boxes while you made repairs to the house.

Will, though he meant well, was not as handy as he claimed to be. After the shower incident that required a late-night call to an emergency plumber, your big Delta Force husband was relegated to the simpler tasks, or the ones that required his muscle. If a dresser had to be moved, he was your man, rolling up his sleeves and making it look easy. The same went for anything that required reaching high places (the uppermost cabinets in the kitchen were a real bitch). In the end, Will ended up spending more time turning the side yard into a garden while you turned this old house into your home.

After a month, Will had to go back to work. He’d been requested to give a speech in D.C., back to the other side of the country. As much as you wanted him to stay, you knew that this was important to him. You knew how much it mattered to him to feel useful, to feel good about what he did and so with a kiss to the cheek, you promised him that you’d have the kitchen cabinets all painted by the time he came back.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Classic rock was softly playing out of the radio you had set up on the counter. Painting was boring work, even more so all by yourself. The radio made you feel less alone and so you hummed along as you worked. Stroke after stroke of paint was rolled onto the cabinets, breathing new life into the space. It was really mindless work and so your thoughts wandered as you painted. You thought about the home, what other projects you had in mind. If you finished the cabinets quickly enough you wanted to tackle the downstairs bathroom too before Will got back.

He'd called every night but it wasn’t the same as him being here. If you were lucky, you got him on FaceTime and got to see his face light up when you appeared on his screen. Even with the small image of him on your phone he was so handsome, golden and bright. You’d called him your Apollo once, god of the sun, and he’d found that funny. Ben was picking him up from the airport tomorrow and driving him home and then you’d have your sun again.

The opening of the front door snapped you out of your thoughts, your head whipping around. “Honey?” His gruff voice was unmistakable to you. Without a second thought your paintbrush was set down, dripping slightly off the drop cloth though that was a problem for later. Your feet carried you to him, flinging yourself into his arms when you saw him standing there in the foyer. “I thought you were coming back tomorrow.” You nuzzled into his neck, breathing in the smell of him as his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “We finished early and I wanted to surprise you.” It was definitely a surprise.

His hand moved from the small of your back to your chin, gently lifting it to place a soft kiss on your lips. “I missed you,” you breathed before stealing another. “I know.” He always knew. He knew every time he left you would miss him and he would miss you. You’d play this game and then he’d come home and reclaim you. One kiss turned into two, which then turned into three and four. Your hands moved to his short blonde hair, moving to the back of his neck to pull him closer, ever closer.

Leaving his bags at the door, you two tangled, desperate for contact, desperate for two to become one again. He picked you up, something you’d normally protest as your feet worked just fine, but instead you let him carry you up the stairs, deeper into your home, to your bedroom.

With a playful grin he tossed you onto the bed, nearly chuckling at the way you almost bounced. His amusement only lasted a moment before lust and his need to have you took over. He descended on you on the bed, lips crashing into yours for a heated kiss as his tongue grazed against your lower lip. He was everywhere at once, overwhelming all of your senses as his name repeated over and over in your head like a mantra.

Will… Will… Will…

His large hands held your wrists above your head, somehow managing the dichotomy of being gentle but firm, while his lips retraced every curve of your skin. Every time he came back the routine was the same. Will wanted, no needed to learn you again, to cover every soft spot that made you sigh to ensure you were the same as when he had left. He needed to know and so he kissed you, his trimmed beard tickling as he slowly made his way down your body earning soft moans along the way.

He only left your wrists when he got to your legs, separating them and placing one over his shoulder as you laid back on the bed. There he paused, looking down at you so bare and exposed and wet beneath him. It was hard not to move under his gaze. “God you’re so beautiful.” You felt heat rise in your cheeks as you whined out his name. He placed a less-than-chaste kiss on your inner thigh before moving closer, breathing in your heady scent. Licking your folds, he let his tongue circle your clit, smirking at the sounds leaving your lips.

He knew your body like the back of his hand and it took no time at all for him to bring you to that peak of pleasure. Closer and closer, more and more you felt your body respond to him, your hips rolling up against his tongue, hands fisting in the sheets or his hair whichever was closer. “C’mon baby,” he coaxed, slipping a finger into your slick heat, curling it to stroke the soft spot that made you cry out and shudder around him.

“That’s one.”

And you knew your husband would follow through with another. He collected your orgasms like some collected baseball cards, counting each and every one. No night ended with just one, leaving you spent exhausted and so satisfied at the end.

Wiping the wetness from his face, he kneeled next to you, watching as your breathing rate came back down, waiting for the sign that he could have you again. As you blinked the haze away, his hands trailed up and down your side, drawing absent patterns against your soft skin. The look in his eyes of restrained hunger made your mouth go momentarily dry, reigniting the flames of passion within you. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you used your other hand to reach for him, pulling him over you.

It was all the encouragement he needed. After tossing his shirt away, his calloused hands move to your thigh, hiking it up over his hip. You had only a moment to take in the sight of him, the well-toned muscle, the scar on the left side of his stomach, before you two crashed together once more. Your hips ground against the hard bulge in his pants, leaving a dark patch in the denim. You needed more, more friction, more him.

He pulled away only long enough to unbutton his pants, kick off his boots and rid himself of the rest of his clothing. Standing at the edge of the bed, he stroked his impressive length a few times as he admired your naked form. Then the wait was too long and crawled over you, lining himself up and so agonizingly slowly pushing himself into you. You tried to be still but it seemed your body had something else in mind as your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him ever closer.

“Someone’s eager,” he breathed, both of you knowing full well that neither of you had the patience to wait much longer. Pressing his lips firmly against yours, he moved, hips snapping into you at a quick pace, his size stretching you in ways no one else ever could. Your body molded to fit around him, your leg wrapping around him once more in an effort to guide him ever deeper. He bottomed out in you before pulling out and pressing into you again and again and again. Each motion put stars behind your eyes, the fireworks building to another crescendo.

You felt him get closer, the rhythm of his hips losing itself as he continued to thrust into you, hips stuttering as the pleasure overwhelmed. “One more honey, I know you have one more.” His low throaty growl in your ear was enough to push you over the brink, your hands clamoring for purchase on his back and shoulders as you cried out once more. Your core clenched down on him and it took only a few more hurried thrusts before you felt his hot seed shooting into you as he let out a low grunt.

His forehead rested against yours as he remained where he was, not wanting to pull out of you just yet. A thin sheen of sweat covered the both of your bodies and despite that you didn’t think either of you were finished quite yet. You had a full week of time apart to make up for. Will pulled his head back from your forehead to give you another soft kiss, this one lacking the passion and lust but more than making up for that with the love and affection he poured into it. “It’s good to be home.”