#like. I really enjoyed dark urge for like the first half but a lot of it later on kinda felt like it didn't pay off the way I wanted it to

[tiktaaliker]

back on my baldurs gate 3 bullshit and I now have a total of three major ocs for this thing: Arkadin (pact of the blade warlock dragonborn dark urge), Garuke (circle of spores druid githyanki), and Tav (symbiotic fungus entity)

as a synopsis of all of their deals:

Garuke's creche was raided + destroyed leaving them as, if not the only, one of the very few survivors of the incident and completely on their own. they're found and raised by a druid circle that live symbiotically with fungi. some druids choose to become hosts for a fungus, and Garuke becomes one of these druids.

Garuke bonds with the fungus and they're chill and yada yada so on and so forth. Mindflayers show up, Garuke gets abducted and tadpole'd. unfortunately Garuke is NOT one of the cool and special protagonists with mindflayer plot armour. When Garuke's brain is getting fucked with, their fungus buddy is kinda kicked out. it freaks the FUCK out and while in panic survival mode dips into the first living thing it can find in order to figure it's shit out, because the symbiosis was SUPPOSED to be permanent and splitting them up should not have been possible

So, the fungal entity hops into the first guy it comes across. Which happens to be Arkadin, dark urge Baalspawn, who is currently Very Brain Dead due to their pod getting fucked up in the githyanki raid. And whoops, turns out you can't just hop into a guy for a spell with no consequences, because now the entity is kind of stuck. alone. Except, nope, they're not even alone in there, because this guy's ALSO got a tadpole. at least this one's kinda quarantined off (because Arkadin WAS lucky enough to get main character plot armour. at least in that aspect)

so now the fungus entity has to figure out on the fly how to pilot this meat body alone and get the hell out of this place. It does the normal baldurs gate storyline stuff, meets up with La'zael and Shadowheart and everyone else, makes up the name Tav on the spot, and tries so so so hard to be normal (and only barely succeeds). And it also doesn't help that while Arkadin is pretty much dead, all the neurons are still in there and Tav is kind of artificially keeping Arkadin at least partially "alive", so it keeps having to deal with Arkadin's memories and Urges coming up unexpectedly and inconveniently. and also other entities keep thinking that tav IS arkadin and that has made things. complicated

[rosemariiaa]

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 01, 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙧.

“I wish I was a normal girl, oh, my How do I be,

how do I be your baby?”

˖�� ᰋ ── pairing: Paige x Azzi

˖˙ ᰋ ── synopsis: tell the truth?

˖˙ ᰋ ── rosie note: ahh first chapter! i’m really excited to see how this series goes..(i hope you guys are too). i do wanna say I will not be dropping chapters back to back just because ik each chapter will be long enough and also i have other things to do. but you never know what i have up my sleeve sooo just wait! i actually did cry a lot writing this so yw. happy reading lovelies 💌

˖˙ ᰋ ── themes: hurt/comfort, mentions of depression, some fluff

enjoy!!!

May, 2014. Virginia MN

Azzis days felt like she was wading through an invisible fog, where each step felt heavier than the last. She moved through school in a daze, surrounded by classmates and noise but feeling distanced from it all, as if she were behind a glass wall. Teachers spoke, friends laughed, yet nothing seemed to reach her, and nothing seemed worth responding to.

She leaned against her bedroom wall, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, the thoughts came like waves, too heavy to escape but too constant to ignore. At home, the silence only deepened. Her puppy was her only real source of comfort, a small warmth that reminded her she wasn’t completely alone.

Yet, even with him there, the sadness was like a relentless wave, threatening to pull her under. As she lay in bed, Azzi’s mind circled around her own thoughts, dark and tangled, the weight pressing down on her chest. Sometimes, she felt the urge to cry, but the tears would stall. Other times, they would pour out uncontrollably, as if her body knew it needed to release the heaviness she carried.

Azzi remembered words that lingered in her mind like a mantra:

“Cry. Cry for an hour, cry for a day, cry for a week. Cry until you can’t cry anymore, until the tears stop coming, until you feel better, until you heal.

Crying is your body’s way of releasing sadness; let it out and then let it go.”

But the letting go part felt impossible.

She knew she was lucky—talented, even—but that didn’t stop the weight pressing down on her, making everything she did feel more like a chore than a choice.

Sometimes it felt like she was just going through the motions: school, basketball practice, homework, repeat. But there was a deeper loneliness, one that made her question what any of it even meant. Every now and then, she’d think, Would anyone even notice if I disappeared for a day? A week? That quiet thought haunted her, lingering in the back of her mind as she navigated her days, waiting for someone to prove it wrong. But no one ever did.

Grabbing her laptop, she opened up her anonymous Blogspot account. Writing had become her escape, a safe place to let her thoughts spill out without anyone knowing they were hers. She’d been posting as @unicornpuppy35 for a while now, hoping someone out there might understand her, even if they never knew her name. A new notification popped up.

Azzi blinked at the screen, surprised to see a comment on her latest post. It was from someone called @boogers_p.

“hey, I saw your post about feeling stuck. I get that. I feel like that a lot, too.”

For a moment, she almost ignored it. Just another user on the internet, right? But something about the way they’d phrased it struck a chord. She found herself typing back before she even knew what she wanted to say.

unicornpuppy35: Oh yeah? What’s got you feeling stuck?

The reply came quickly.

boogers_p: lol, how much time u got? but mostly… everything’s just movin’, and i’m still here. it’s like ur doing all this stuff, but half the time u can’t even tell if u actually care abt it.

Azzi frowned, feeling that weird sense of familiarity in the words.

unicornpuppy35: Exactly, like a constant loop. But what’s the point, right?

boogers_p: fr! it’s like… i’m goin’ thru the motions but who even knows why.

A smile tugged at her lips. Whoever this was, they got it. They actually understood what she was feeling. And it was strange, but it made her feel just a little less alone.

unicornpuppy35: So, what’s your thing? Like, if you had to pick.

boogers_p: lol basketball. but sometimes i’m like… is this all there is?

Azzi blinked. Out of all the things they could have in common, it was basketball. Funny, or maybe just ironic.

unicornpuppy35: Wait, seriously? Are we living the same life or what?

boogers_p: guess that means we’re stuck in the same boat, huh?

Azzi let herself relax into the conversation, forgetting for a moment that she was talking to a stranger. She leaned back, fingers tapping against the keyboard.

unicornpuppy35: So, if we’re both stuck… what’s the plan? How do we get out?

boogers_p: girl, if i knew, we’d be out already, trust. maybe we keep chattin n figure it out.

Azzi laughed softly, a weight lifting from her shoulders that she hadn’t even realized was there.

unicornpuppy35: Deal. Looks like I just made a new friend.

There was a pause, then @boogers_p’s next message popped up.

boogers_p: btw, ‘unicornpuppy35’? gotta ask: what’s the story there?

Azzi rolled her eyes, smirking as she typed back.

unicornpuppy35: What? You don’t like it?

boogers_p: nah it’s cool, just funny. u like unicorns that much?

unicornpuppy35: Who doesn’t like unicorns? And I have a puppy, so it made sense at the time.

boogers_p: lol alright then, unicorn girl.

unicornpuppy35: “Boogers” is somehow less embarrassing to you?

The reply was fast.

boogers_p: hey! don’t come for my name. so do u even keep up w ball like that?

Azzi laughed, a real laugh, and typed, I mean, I love the game, especially the wcbb, but I barely keep up with men’s college basketball.

boogers_p: WHAT i can’t believe that …u at least know who Kyrie is right??

Azzi smiled, rolling her eyes as she typed, I know who he is, I just don’t watch him like that. I’m more into Breanna Stewart.

boogers_p: ohh okay stewie’s dope. but trust, kyrie’s handles r insane. hold up lemme get u the link.

Azzi barely clicked on the link before skimming, smiling at Paige’s excitement.

As Azzi sat back, scrolling through this user’s texts, a small part of her was overwhelmed by everything, like a weight on her chest she couldn’t quite shake off. It felt strange how this stranger’s blunt and funny messages could draw her out of her own head—even if just for a bit. She was used to feeling invisible, yes, her struggles buried under her quiet exterior, but this strangers presence, even from behind a screen, felt real.

A few seconds ticked by as she sank into her thoughts, that weight of loneliness and uncertainty creeping in again. She knew people saw her as the “soft one,” but beneath that, her emotions felt raw, and she wondered if anyone truly understood.

Suddenly, her phone screen lit up with rapid notifications.

boogers_p: hellooooooo? did u leave?

boogers_p: r u asleep already or smth??

Azzi’s lips turned up in a small smile. She quickly replied.

unicornpuppy35: “Geez, relax. I’m still here.”

boogers_p: “finally! thought I lost ya for a sec. kinda rude to just ghost me like that, you know?”

Azzi smirked, typing back slowly.

unicornpuppy35: “Yeah, yeah. Guess I was just thinking.”

boogers_p: “Ooooh, deep thoughts? Or like… deep-deep thoughts?”

Azzi hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard, but she quickly brushed it off.

unicornpuppy35: “nope, just regular deep, I guess.”

boogers_p: “good, I thought you might’ve been drafting your escape from my endless questions.”

unicornpuppy35: “ y’know you’re kind of funny , i’ll give you that. lol”

boogers_p: “ik ik. btw, where do you go to school? And don’t tell me it’s some fancy private place or whatever.”

unicornpuppy35: “Haha, what are you, a stalker? why do you wanna know?”

boogers_p: “what? nah, just curious! alright, lemme guess… you seem like a midwest kid. Iowa?”

unicornpuppy35: “nope, not even close. Try again, Sherlock.”

boogers_p: “alright, alright… new jersey?”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head at her screen.

unicornpuppy35: “nope. You’re pretty bad at this, you know.”

boogers_p: “whatever, I’m warming up! Um… cali? bet you’re like, all into the beach.”

unicornpuppy35: “keep guessing P! maybe you’ll get it right before I graduate.”

boogers_p: “damn, you’re killin’ me here. fine, one more—Texas?”

unicornpuppy35: “Guess you’re gonna have to stay curious, stalker.”

“P” sent a string of laughing emojis, clearly frustrated but amused.

boogers_p: “oh, okay, I see how it is. mysterious and all that. fine, keep your secrets.”

Azzi smiled, finding herself genuinely entertained by Paige’s playful determination to figure her out. It was nice, having someone care enough to ask.

Azzi shook her head, laughing at the sight of P typing “helloooooo?” over and over.

unicornpuppy35: Still here! Just still laughing at your terrible guesses.

boogers_p: ohhh shut up 😆 one day you’ll tell me!

As they continued chatting, Azzi couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, like maybe she wasn’t quite so alone after all.

————-

I glanced at the clock in the corner of my screen. Midnight. Crap. How had it gotten so late?

unicornpuppy35: alright, P, it’s late. I should get some sleep—school tomorrow and all 😊

I typed, hesitating for a moment before hitting send. I didn’t want the conversation to end, not when it felt so… easy.

The reply came almost instantly.

boogers_p: lame but yeah, same here. don’t oversleep, though, or I’ll roast you about it next time

I smiled softly, my fingers moving across the keyboard.

unicornpuppy35: gnn P

boogers_p: night unicorn, catch you later.

I closed my laptop, leaning back against my pillow with a soft sigh. My room was quiet except for the gentle snuffling of my puppy curled up at the end of the bed. I hated how much I didn’t want to stop talking to her—or whoever she was—but I could already hear my mom’s voice in my head if I overslept tomorrow.

Still, the flicker of warmth in my chest wouldn’t go away. For the first time in a while, I didn’t feel so alone.

————-

The warm weight of my puppy’s paws jolted me awake, followed by his enthusiastic tongue licking my cheek. I groaned, shoving him away gently before squinting at my phone.

“Crap.” 7:40. At least practice was after school today, but I still had school before then.

“Azzi!” Mom’s voice carried from the kitchen, sharp and frustrated. “Do you even know what time it is? You’re going to be late—again!”

“I know, Mom!” I called back, stumbling out of bed and tossing clothes around my room.

When I finally trudged downstairs, backpack slung over one shoulder, she was waiting, arms crossed. “Do you? Because this is becoming a habit. You need to start taking this seriously, Azzi. Coaches notice stuff like this.”

I rolled my eyes, grabbing a grabbing a piece of nutella toast from the plate on the counter. “It’s not like I’m failing or anything.”

“That’s not the point!” Her voice rose a notch, and I flinched. “You’re juggling basketball, school, and everything else. If you can’t manage your mornings, how are you supposed to handle the rest?”

“I’ve got it under control.” The words came out sharper than I intended, and guilt immediately twisted in my stomach.

She softened slightly but shook her head. “You have so much potential, Azzi. I just don’t want you to waste it. That’s all.”

I sighed, hugging the puppy briefly before heading out the door. “I won’t.”

Her voice followed me, softer now. “Make sure you don’t.”

As I stepped outside, the crisp morning air hit me, making me shiver slightly. My puppy barked once from the window, his tail wagging furiously. I couldn’t help but smile, even as Mom’s words echoed in my head.

She wasn’t wrong, but sometimes it felt like the pressure of living up to everyone’s expectations, especially hers was just all so suffocating. I jogged toward the bus stop, earbuds in, my mind already racing through the day ahead: school, practice, and maybe—if I had time—another chat with P.

The bus ride wasn’t much better than waking up. Just the usual hum of the engine and kids mumbling into their phones. I leaned my head against the window, the cold glass biting at my cheek, and zoned out. School wasn’t exactly a place I looked forward to.

By the time I walked into first period, I was already tuning out the chatter around me. The teacher called for us to break into groups, and I found myself sitting with three classmates who barely glanced my way.

“We should start with the data chart,” I said, glancing at the worksheet.

“Yeah, yeah,” one of them mumbled, already scribbling something down.

Another classmate leaned over to add something, completely ignoring what I’d just said. My lips pressed into a thin line. This wasn’t new. It was like my words existed in a bubble, bouncing off everyone and disappearing into thin air. I tried again.

“If we divide the work, we’ll finish faster—”

“Wait, no, let’s do this first,” someone interrupted, their voice cutting over mine.

I stopped mid-sentence, letting my pen drop to the table. They didn’t even notice. Just kept talking like I wasn’t there.

I didn’t bother saying anything else for the rest of the class. It wasn’t worth it.

By lunch, I was drained. I slid into a chair at the edge of the cafeteria, next to a group of friends who were already knee-deep in some conversation.

“Azzi, did you see that ridiculous shot Ty took in practice yesterday?” one of them asked, barely waiting for my answer before launching into their own commentary.

I nodded, offering a small laugh. It wasn’t worth jumping in. Every time I tried to add something to a conversation, it either got talked over or shifted in another direction.

But it didn’t stop me from noticing.

As I picked at my food, my thoughts drifted back to last night’s chat with P. They actually listened. Responded. It felt… different. Maybe that’s why it was still on my mind.

————-

By the time I got to practice, my head was already in a fog. It felt like no matter where I went, no one really saw me. At school, at home—was it too much to ask for someone to actually listen?

“Azzi, let’s go! You’re up!” Coach’s voice snapped me back. I jogged to the front of the line, grabbing a ball. Simple drill. Layups. Easy.

Except I missed.

“Come on, Azzi!” one of the captains called, exasperation clear in her voice. My jaw tightened.

I grabbed the rebound and tried again, but my footwork was off. The ball clanged off the rim.

“Focus, Azzi!” Coach barked.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat, and got back in line. When my turn came again, I nailed the layup, but the damage was already done.

As we transitioned to scrimmage, it only got worse. I called for the ball—wide open on the wing—but my teammate didn’t even look my way. I sprinted to the other side of the court, yelling louder this time. Nothing.

“Azzi, move the ball!” someone shouted when I finally had possession, cutting me off before I could even make a decision.

It was like being invisible. Nothing new though.

By the time practice ended, my legs ached, and my chest felt even heavier than when I’d started. I stayed behind to shoot free throws, trying to shake off the weight.

One ball after another swished through the net, but the sinking feeling didn’t budge.

By the time I finally walked out of the gym, the sun had dipped low, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. My legs felt like lead, and I slung my bag over one shoulder, the strap digging in just enough to annoy me. God.

I spotted our car parked at the far end of the lot, Mom’s silhouette visible through the windshield. She was scrolling on her phone, waiting. I sighed, tugging my hoodie tighter as I trudged toward her.

As I got closer, I caught sight of my brothers in the backseat. Jose was watching something on his tablet, headphones on, and Jon was playing with a Rubik’s cube. Lucky them—they didn’t have to deal with “the talk” I was sure was coming.

The second I opened the door and tossed my bag onto the floor, Mom started in.

“So, your coach called me today,” she said, her tone sharp but controlled.

I froze, mid-seatbelt click. Great.

She said you’ve been distracted. Not focused. Is something going on?”

I stared out the window, watching the streetlights blur past. “I’m fine,” I mumbled.

“Azzi, ‘fine’ isn’t good enough. You’re not putting in the work, and it’s starting to show. You need to get your head in the game. You think colleges are going to be interested in someone who’s half-assing it?”

Her words stung, but I bit my tongue, glancing at Jose and Jon in the backseat. Jon was tapping away on his tablet, and Jose had his headphones in. Good. I didn’t want them listening to this.

“I’m not half-a wording it,” I said quietly.

“Oh, really? Because that’s not what I heard today. Your coach says otherwise.”

I clenched my jaw, willing myself not to argue. I couldn’t let this turn into something bigger, not with my brothers right here.

“Mom, I said I’m fine,” I repeated, more firmly this time.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Azzi, you can’t afford to slack off. You’ve worked too hard for this. Don’t throw it all away now.”

I stared straight ahead, tuning her out as best I could. My chest felt tight, but I refused to let it show. I nodded along, letting her words wash over me without sticking.

When we finally pulled into the driveway, I bolted from the car, mumbling something about needing to shower. The second my bedroom door shut, I collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow.

For a few minutes, I just lay there, letting the weight of the day press down on me. Then I grabbed my laptop and opened the chat.

unicornpuppy35: “hey, you around?”

The reply came quicker than I expected.

boogers_p: “yup what’s up?”

I hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard. How much could I even say without sounding like I was whining?

unicornpuppy35: “rough day.”

boogers_p: “wanna talk about it?”

I stared at the screen. Did I?

unicornpuppy35: “not really. just needed a distraction.”

boogers_p: “fair. ok, here’s a distraction: what’s your dream ice cream flavor? like if you could invent anything.”

I blinked at the random question, a laugh escaping before I could stop it.

unicornpuppy35: “that’s… so random.”

boogers_p: “that’s the point. distraction, remember?”

boogers_p: “but… you do know you don’t have to push it down, y’know? sometimes it helps to just let it out. Especially with me.”

My chest tightened again. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to talk—I just wasn’t sure how.

unicornpuppy35: “oh um okay, it’s just been a lot. school sucks, practice was worse, and my mom’s acting like I’m throwing my whole future away. But what’s the point in saying anything? It’s not like it changes.”

I stared at the screen, half-wishing I could take it back. But, I typed again.

unicornpuppy35: “it’s like… everybody talks to me like I’m supposed to change. like they’ve already decided what’s wrong with me and what I need to do to fix it. but how am I supposed to change when I don’t even know who I am yet? it’s like no one cares about that part.”

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.

boogers_p: “damn, unicorn. that’s real. people are so quick to act like they know what’s best for you, but they don’t live your life. you don’t owe them anything.”

I felt a lump rise in my throat as I stared at P’s message.

unicornpuppy35: “exactly. like… they’ve already made up their minds, and nothing I say matters. but I don’t even know who I’m supposed to be yet. And then when I try to figure it out, they’re just like, ‘No, not like that.’ it’s so exhausting.”

boogers_p: “i get it. they want you to follow their script, but maybe their script sucks. you’re allowed to write your own, even if it takes time.”

My fingers hesitated over the keyboard. I feel the tears running down my cheeks and falling onto the keypad.

unicornpuppy35: “sometimes I feel like I’m never gonna figure it out. like I’ll just keep messing up until everyone gives up on me.”

P didn’t reply right away, and for a moment, I worried I’d said too much. I’m trying my best to wipe the tears that are falling, but they just won’t stop coming.

But then their message popped up

boogers_p: “ listen to me. you’re allowed to take up space, to mess up, to figure things out in your own time. screw what everyone else thinks. you’re not a project they get to fix.”

A shaky breath left my chest, and I swiped at my eyes before more of my tears could fall onto the laptop.

unicornpuppy35: “thanks, P. I mean it. you’re the only one who really listens.”

boogers_p: “anytime you’re stuck with me now, remember?”

I didn’t mind that one bit and for the first time all day, I let myself breathe.

————-

March 21, Minneapolis, Minnesota

I stared at the screen, the cursor blinking against the blank message box. Her words replayed in my mind like a song I couldn’t shake off.

“Nobody listens. Nobody sees me.”

I didn’t know what to say back, not really. Azzi didn’t just sound tired—she sounded done. And it scared me more than I wanted to admit.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard.

“Azzi…”

I typed..wanting to send but no.

I couldn’t. Not yet.

————-

taglist ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

@thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @ohbueckers @sierrale8ne @mrsarnold @absolutelydreadful @authentic-girl03 @lupinqs @d3arapril @pboogerswbb @imaginespazzi

₊˚ෆ always lmk if u wanna be added to my taglist muah ₊˚ෆ

[remushrts]

Hi could you do a Sirius X potter!reader (reader being James twin) where r is in trouble with filch or whatever and then Sirius pulls her into a cupboard to hide. The cupboard is really tight and they're very close and James opens the door to them making out and gets mad.

heartstopper

— pairing: sirius black x potter!fem!reader

— a/n: i think this is my first time writing for sirius (solo) + my first hogwarts fic? hope you enjoy it, i loved to write this so much!! thanks for the request!

— warning: nothing really happens except for kissing, no i think none (?)

You don't hear James' voice at first. Not when you have bigger concerns, Sirius' mouth pressed so close to your own that it barely leaves enough space to breath, not that you minded it anyway. His fingers tug softly at your jaw, guiding your lips to meet his, and for a moment you forget why you're even there.

Filch. Sirius and James exploded something in his office, and you, an innocent student who were only trying to get to the library, got caught in the middle of it. A blur of red ties and sweaters run past you, a familiar voice urging you to run. You obey before you spot the threat, the Hogwarts janitor keeping up at your feet while screaming about torture and punishments. If it weren't for Sirius' hand in yours, you're sure you would've at least paid him half a mind.

The boys turn the corner, James freezing for a moment before taking the opposite direction, telling you to hide before he calls on Filch's attention, giving you and Sirius more time to escape. Or so he thought.

"We're far from the dorms..." You say, confused as Sirius looks around, pulling you with him and opening a cupboard's door. You look around. James could have bought you more time, but not even him could run forever. You step into the cupboard, holding the door clumsily to keep it closed, Sirius soon follows, his body pressing against yours.

You tell yourself it's nothing, that your cheeks are red from the run and your breath is shallow due to the lack of athletic training your brother seems to be so fond of. That's it. That's why your heart feels like it's about to jump out at any second. It is definitely not the slightest related to the boy pressed against you, so close you can smell his cologne. It's definitely not the attractive, funny, smart best friend of your brother who so happens to be two and a half inches from your lips in this very moment.

Your mind begins to make excuses to tell James. Sirius cuts you right off, as if he could read your thoughts. You wouldn't be surprised if he could, if how loud your heart was beating was anything to go by.

"Look, sweetheart, I'm pretty sure Filch can smell fear." He whispers to you, his hand finding its way to push a lock of your hair out of your face, his fingers cupping just above your cheek. "Can you try to relax and maybe not get us caught?"

There's a hint of banter in his tone, and if you were not enclosed with him in this moment, you would have laughed. You would have, at least, if your mind was not so shamefully full of him.

You know your heart doesn't stop racing just because Sirius asks you to, the way he chuckles at your reaction. Even in the darkness, you can feel his eyes staring at you. You're blushing even before he does his next move. Sirius just graciously, unpretentiously, ducks his head an inch to the left. And kisses you.

And to all matters, your heart stops then. And all the seconds later, when you part your lips against his to what might be the best kiss of your life, completely missing the approaching footsteps.

Sirius kisses like his life is on it, without a moment's notice to allow you to think. What you would think, if your mind hadn't short circuited from the moment his teeth grazed on your lower lip, was that someone was definitely turning around the corner. What you would think was that that someone's voice resembled awfully a lot to your brother's, Sirius' best friend, as he was calling for your names.

Your heart stops then too, definitely still as a rock as James pushes the cupboard's doors open and Sirius not so graciously stumbles on his feet, his fingers pried from the collar of your shirt even less graciously, your lipstick's mark on his lips looking more like a death sentence.

Sirius doesn't wipe it off.

[smellrain]

in which: Jack has liked you for years, but so far you have been oblivious to his feelings. Will the guide he made with the help of his teammate make you fall for him? Or will it end up destroying your friendship?

tags: written, mention of use of alcohol, slight angst. (masterlist for this au) (my masterlist) <prev. part: prologue I next part: ch. 2>

notes: [4.3k] First of all: thank you for your kind words after the prologue yesterday! Very happy that so many of you liked it. There is an analysis post about this chapter here that you might want to check out after! I hope you enjoy :) & come tell me how you liked it!!!

It had been a long day at work for you. The data your boss had assigned you had taken you a lot longer to work on than you’d expected, which meant that you actually, genuinely missed your last lecture of the day. You had texted a barely-even-friend that attended the same elective about her notes but you hadn't gotten a text back so far. 

Standing in front of your door now, you leaned the crown of your head against the outside of it and took a deep breath in. You had missed the key hole not once but twice now and the anger that welled up inside of you was completely unwarranted, so you knew you needed to mentally take at least one step back. 

Four seconds in, seven hold, eight out. In and out. You blinked once and the dark of the wood was an unwelcome reminder of reality. Still, unlocked the door, this time succeeding on the first try. 

The hallway was quiet, but you had expected as much. One of your flatmates had a nightshift at the clinic she was working at while the other was sleeping over at her boyfriends. The blissful silence you had looked forward to this morning seemed suffocating now. 

It didn’t matter. It was fine like this, you were fine.

After turning on the kitchen light, you walked to your room, put down your bag and fell down onto your bed, face first. The scratchy fabric of your bedcover was not nearly as nice as the sheets you had dreamed of all day long. 

For a while you let your eyes fall closed, not asleep, but resting nonetheless. You just wanted to rinse the day off of you, but you were too hungry to even think about showering. 

With a groan you peeled yourself off your bed, sat at the edge of your mattress while an inexplicable urge to cry welled up inside of you. Your day had been really shitty and your were really, really hungry.

But you got up anyway and walked towards the light in the kitchen that shone through through the space of the door to your room.

The music you’d put on in the background helped but it didn’t quite scratch that itch for conversation, for company. When you saw your phone light up from where you had left it on the counter, you hoped it might be the classmate you had texted. 

You rinsed off your hands to see who had messaged you. 

Jack (worst Hughes brother): hey what r you doing tn? You: currently making dinner why what did you do what do you need Jack (worst Hughes brother): nothing  wait why did you assume i did/need sth anyways: can i come over soon?

The shower. You still had to shower, but soon for Jack usually meant at least half an hour. It  should be enough time and besides it was just Jack, no reason to put in more effort than necessary. 

You: because you always text me when you need my help sure, I might be eating by then, have you eaten? Jack (worst Hughes brother): I did like 5min ago wait no ignore that, you’re telling me I could have had some of yours??? jkjk see you soon

You liked the last message and turned the heat off your stove. Shower first, you reminded yourself, even as you mourned the loss of the start of your dinner that you had been frying on the stove. 

When he knocked at your door you were still sitting at the small kitchen table that could barely seat two people. “It’s open,” you said, loudly. 

From the sounds you could hear him open and close the door, take off his shoes and leave his bag in the hallway. When he finally came into your view, you couldn’t help but smile. Strange how that worked, considering you had almost cried half an hour ago. Food really worked miracles sometimes. But then again he had always had that kind of effect on you, making you smile despite yourself. 

“That’s not very safe of you,” he had said but he was already smiling, “having your door unlocked.”

“Hey you, fancy seeing you here.”

There was a warm feeling curling itself around your ribcage at the look at him, “hey yourself. I left it open because I knew you were coming over, don’t worry about it.”

“Alright,” he conceded, “did you watch the game yesterday?”

“‘Course I did,” you said, eyes following him as he took a glass from the cabinets and filled it up. There was something intimate about that, the ease he carried himself with, him knowing where to find your glassware and feeling comfortable enough to do so while carrying on with the conversation. 

There was something in you that ached at the feeling, at having someone that comes home to you. At having someone that just feels that comfortable with you, that you live your life alongside with. 

It’s not like you were lonely, you had wonderful flatmates and good friends, but there was just something different about this feeling, about this longing. Or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, inexplicable as always.

“Good, otherwise I would have felt stupid after my goal.”

You had seen the new ritual he did sometimes that he had been asked about by the media sometimes. He had done it a few times now, more often over this past year. He was approached by his teammates first, but then he was still for a bit, putting his hand on his chest and raising it up after, usually waving once. The warmth that had seeped into your bones crept up to your face, “you did that for me?”

The one time he talked to an interviewer about it, he had said it was a new good luck charm he was trying out.

Because of the small table the two of you sat close and his knee kept bumping into yours, but you hardly paid it any mind. It was comforting, having him here, this close in the low light of the kitchen, cradling one of your glasses in his hands. 

Admitting something he hadn’t told anyone else.

“Yeah, of course, had to show my appreciation for my number one fan somehow.”

You laughed a little, “you are such an idiot.”

The smile he gave you in return crinkled up the skin at the corner of his eyes and you wanted to trace that fold with your thumb. What were you even thinking? “I know.”

So you just swatted his shoulder and got up to wash your dish. “Did you guys go out and celebrate?”

Jack turned in his seat, his body facing your back from where he was still sitting at the table, “yeah. It was a really small bar in the middle of nowhere, Nico said he didn’t want to be recognised, despite the win.”

You hummed in response. The constant scrutiny must have been affecting them all after these past few games. “Cool. Did it actually work or,” you trailed off, not really sure how to finish your question. 

“Sort of, I mean we took a few pictures when we came in but it was a lot better than usual.”

“I’m glad then,” you said and turned back around to face him, “I’m glad nothing too exciting happened.”

At the word exciting his expression morphed into something odd. “What?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he answered but he wasn’t meeting your eyes anymore. 

“You can tell me, you know you can,” you reminded him, now getting closer to him again. You were usually able to get out every last secret of his if you just asked the right questions. 

“I know,” he assured you, now pulling you a little closer by your hip and resting his hand there. He had always been touchy like that, arms slung over your shoulders or around your waist, hands holding your wrist to pull you through crowds, thumbs circling your ankle when you rested your legs in his lap. 

“But it’s really nothing, I just got a little drunk,” he assured you, but you didn’t really buy it. 

Still, you had no real reason to press, knowing that it just made him close up further. He would end up telling you, just not now. “Okay.”

The two of you went back to your room soon after, deciding to watch a movie. You didn’t tell him that you were really, genuinely tired, because you knew he could tell. He always could, somehow, even if you yourself weren’t all that aware of it. Funny how that worked.

You sat down first and then patted the spot next to you on the bed, but for a split second you saw him hesitate. That hurt, just a bit because you had thought that the two of you were close enough for it to not matter anymore. 

Still, he leaned against the headboard next to you, his shoulder softly knocking against yours and your worries disappeared at that. You must have imagined it.

“Any preferences?”

“Ratatouille,” you said immediately, not even knowing where that request came from. 

He smiled, “I do like a girl that knows what she wants.”

For some reason you blushed at that, at the barely even there implication of being his. You really were going insane today. “Is that okay for you?”

“Sure,” he said, “let's watch the rat be a better cook than the two of us combined.”

You typed the website and clicked play on your screen and settled your laptop down between the two of you, one knee on each side of the bottom of it. 

You were suddenly keenly aware of the fact that you didn’t even own a tv, that you were watching a movie from your laptop when he could be at home, watching it on a screen that was at least double the size of this.

It was a stupid thought, so you brushed it off. He was a professional athlete, you were a college student. There was something fundamentally different about your current lives, as intertwined as they were. 

The movie started soon after, so you pushed all of that to the back of your mind. At first the two of you ran a semi-steady commentary about what was going on but soon after you were both too engrossed in the story to think about anything fun to say. 

When a sharp sound came from the screen you realised that you had your eyes closed. Sleepily you blinked your eyes open again. It must have been for a few minutes, at least because you weren't sure what was going on anymore. 

“Tired?” he asked, a knowing glint in his eyes. 

You let your forehead fall against his shoulder, this time on purpose. It was a welcome contrast to a few hours ago when you did the same thing against your front door. His shoulder was softer because of his sweatshirt and he smelled nice. Like the shampoo he used, like his laundry detergent. You wondered when that smell had become intrinsically his and not someone else's' like a friend of yours that used the same deodorant. 

You kind of wanted to drown in it, but you held yourself afloat anyway. He wasn’t yours, you weren’t his. The two of you weren’t like that.

“Had a hard day at work,” you mumbled, a little more tired now than you’d been just moments ago. His presence did that to you, calmed you down when you didn’t even know you were high to begin with. 

He lowered your shoulder a bit which made it more comfortable for you to rest your head on it. “You could have said no, you know that, right?”

But you had wanted to see him once you had seen his message. “I know.”

“Good,” he answered, as if it was as simple as that and remained quiet after that. 

You tried to turn your focus back to the movie, you really did, but before you knew it your eyelids were drooping again. 

Then you were woken up again, this time by Jack. 

The movie must have finished in the meantime because he had moved his arm, closing your laptop. You rubbed your eyes tiredly, trying to form a coherent thought but the only thing on your mind was the warmth of him next to you, the dream that just barely slipped out of your grasp. 

“Sorry,” you said.

He turned to you, surprised. “What for? If anything I should apologise, I kept watching even when you were tired.”

“You know I don't mind that,” you said. “I just wasn’t very good company today. Sorry.”

Jack knocked his shoulder against you with a little more purpose so you  turned to him. “Nope, none of that. I don’t mind, I got to see you, which is all I wanted anyway.”

How could he just say something like that? As if words like these didn’t bore themselves under your skin, living there forever, etching themselves into the white of your bones.

This casually, as if it didn’t just make your heart flutter the same way it did when you were eighteen, back when you had loved him. Still, in your barely illuminated room, late at night you let yourself linger. Let yourself pretend that his words held meaning. 

Let yourself pretend that the two of you were different.

You thought about the thousands of times you must have seen him just like this, in the dark, looking back at you. 

It was a weird memory that came to you, just then.

Back when the two of you had first met you had been crushing hard. It wasn’t really surprising, now looking back. You had never really gotten a lot of attention by boys growing up, so when he went out of his way to talk to you, you really had no choice but to fall for him. 

Liking him had become addicting. 

You could still remember the moment you thought he might like you back and the very same moment you knew it wasn’t, probably ever, going to work out between the two of you.

It was at a party, after you had just graduated. You had just come out of the bathroom, alone because your friend was finally, finally talking to the guy she liked. 

Then you picked up a friend’s voice somewhere down the corner, most likely from the kitchen. “C’mon your turn now. Who are you crushing on,” Aaron had said. They must still be playing a weird mixture of truth or dare and some other game you had already forgotten the name of.

Your mind immediately went to Jack, the way his hand had brushed yours when he had gotten you a drink earlier that night. 

“I don't?” Jack answered, slightly laughing, but there was an air of unease in his voice that you couldn’t help but notice. 

“C’mon, Jack don’t be like that,” someone else interjected, and suddenly you were a lot more invested in the conversation than just a moment ago. It was always like that when it was about him. 

“There are always so many girls throwing themselves at you, surely you want one of them,” you could hear the other guy’s jealousy from miles away but you weren’t sure if the others picked up on it too. 

“I’m serious, I barely have time for my friends already, let alone a girlfriend.” Jack said and there was this tiny spark of hope rising in your chest. Maybe you could change that. Maybe you could be the exception. 

“True,” Aaron agreed calmer than usual. You thought he might be noticing the tension waving off of the other guy. 

“There is no shame in admitting it,” the other guy doubled down, “what about that one girl? Short, brunette, on the track and field club.”

Oh god, he was describing your friend, the one you had just left with her crush. “Nah, wait I think she has a boyfriend, but what about her friend, the one that Kevin hangs out with.”

You. Shit, he was talking about you. Did you really want to hear Jack’s response? What if he said he didn’t like you? But what if he did?

“She is my friend too, you know,” Jack said, “but she is pretty, I guess.”

He guesses? That kind of really stung. You knew that there was nothing all that memorable about you, but it’s not like you were ugly. A thousand different insecurities that you thought you had worked through rose to the surface and you didn’t have the strength to push them back down. 

You had to escape, now, without being noticed and without listening to anything more. Still, your ear couldn’t help but pick up on the rest even as you pushed past that guy that sat behind you in math.

“Jack, don’t be like that,” the other guy insisted, “don’t you want to go up to her and just fuck her? I mean her ass-”

Humiliation. For some reason you felt humiliated and violated. You knew about locker room talk, but you had never wanted to be part of it. Tears were beginning to well up in your eyes and suddenly you could feel every single person that had touched any part of you today, suddenly questioning if it really was accidental. 

You had to get out, now. The static in your ear was loud and the bass vibrating through the soles of your feet seemed to turn it up even more. You had run away, texting the friend you came with some kind of bullshit excuse for leaving. 

The asphalt outside on the sidewalk was cold, but you sat down on it anyway. You just wanted to cry. Everything seemed so overwhelming and important all at once and you had no idea how to deal with all of it. 

Soon you were leaving high school for good, your friends were moving all across the country, you were so fucking lonely and the guy you had been crushing on for a better part of a year didn’t even think that you were worthy to look at. 

You drew your legs closer to your body and folded yourself up as much as possible. Growing up seemed scary all of a sudden. There was that one Lorde lyric that said that too, that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Suddenly people were streaming out of the house, all at once. You wiped your tears, looking up at what was happening. In the stream of people you couldn’t make out any of your friends.

Then you heard your name being called. It was Kevin, still standing at his door. He held Jack at the others shirt collar, as if he was holding up a particularly unruly cat that had gotten in trouble again. 

Your eyes must not have been red because when you came closer neither boy commented on it. “Get him home,” Kevin said and dumped a heap of Jack right in front of you. 

Jack glared back at where Kevin disappeared back into the house, eyes murderous. You had never really seen him act like that, especially to a friend. But then again how well did you really know him?

A beat of silence. You really wondered what on earth had happened for the party to just end. You shifted your weight on your feet. “Do you have a car?” you asked eventually. 

Jack brushed past you, “yeah. I’ll drive you home, didn’t drink anything.”

You followed him, but on the short walk back to his car neither of you said anything. 

The stereo remained off all the way back to your place. After you had stopped looking at him to try and figure out what had him in this bad of a mood, you looked outside. The neighbourhood was so familiar, and the horribly sad feeling from earlier came up again. 

You really needed some kind of distraction. “Thank you for driving me home.”

For a second he remained quiet and you really thought you were going to be ignored. He had always had a bit of a dramatic streak at times. “Of course.”

His expression remained scarily blank. “Can I ask what happened with Kevin?”

“Nothing,” he said, his gaze staring firmly ahead. Then, “I don’t like his friends.”

What kind of response was that? “Okay,” you tried, carefully, “then why did you come?”

“I didn’t know I didn’t like them before tonight,” he said. 

Then you looked at the way his hands were gripping the wheel, specifically at his knuckles. Wait- “did you punch one of them?”

He laughed, and the sound bounced off the small enclosure and some kind of happy feeling made your heart swell, even though you had been apprehensive about him just moments ago.

It was a lot longer than your comment had warranted. You really were a bit concerned about him. Should he be driving if he acted like this? “I might have.”

Before you could ask why, because you had never seen him actually punch anyone, he continued, “in my defense, he started it.”

“That’s a shitty defense,” you said, “that just means you have to be the one to take a step back first.”

He only shook his head in response but you were happy he was back to acting like that Jack you knew. “You would have punched him too, I just know it.”

“Sure,” you replied. You had never punched a person because you didn’t like them and you didn’t think you’d start anytime soon. 

“Trust me, you would have,” he said and left it at that. 

The two of you arrived at your place soon after, so you thanked him and left. 

The rest of the summer between highschool and college was spent getting over him, which you eventually succeeded at when he introduced his now ex-girlfriend to you and your friends. 

In college you went out on a few dates, but none of them ended up going anywhere. That was fine to you, because it just meant that you were prioritising other things now, like your studies and your friends. 

There wasn’t even anything all that similar between that memory and your current situation, but you drew the comparison anyway. His jaw was more refined now, his hair longer and his eyes seemed different now, a bit more mature maybe. Or maybe just a bit more tired. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked. 

It must have been a bit strange, you just looking at him. “You,” you replied honestly. “Do you remember that one party, way back, after high school where you punched someone?”

He groaned and leaned his head back against the wall, his throat exposed. Your gaze lingered there for a bit before returning to his face. Some kind of feeling almost bubbled to the surface at the sound and the matching sight.

“I do.”

“I never actually figured why you did that.” When his gaze remained firmly on your ceiling, you continued, “I feel like now enough time has passed for you to admit why.”

He smiled a bit. “There was this other guy, right? The one I punched, I mean.”

You nodded. 

“He was being a real dick about one of my friends, and when he didn’t stop talking about her I just kinda wanted him to shut up. Moved before thinking about it.”

“Asshole,” you commented, not about Jack. 

“Right?” he turned his head so that he looked back down to you, “after that one punch I came back to myself but before I knew it Kevin had dragged me out by my collar, shouting that everyone had to go.”

“He must have wanted to avoid a full on fight,” you said. 

“For sure, can’t even blame him.” With a mischievous gleam in his eyes he said, “but it felt really good to finally shut him up.”

You laughed, thinking that the entire situation was a lot more dramatic than it really had any reason to be. The laugh turned to a yawn by the end. 

“I should leave,” he said but you had the weird urge to ask him to stay. 

“Sorry, I’m a lot more tired than I thought,” you said instead.

“Don’t apologise for that,” he said, getting up. He ended up offering you a hand to help you get up as well even though you really didn't need it. You took it anyway. 

He picked up the bag that he had left at the door, opened it and turned to you. “I had fun.”

You smiled, “me too.”

“Good,” he offered you a smile in return. You saw his hand reach out and stop for just a second, but before you could ask him about it, he held it against your temple and leaned down to give you a kiss on your forehead. He lingered in your orbit for a bit longer than the duration of the kiss, just hovering above you. 

“See you soon,” he said, waving, and you replied the same. Then you closed your door and locked it. 

You didn’t need to hold your hand against your cheek to feel it burn. What was that? He had never done that before. He had never done anything like that before, ever.

You stumbled to your bathroom, and went through the motions of brushing your teeth and going on the toilet. When you finally crawled under your sheets, you let yourself sink down into them. 

Still, you were too tired to properly dissect the entire interaction so instead you closed your eyes. You drifted to sleep, your mind focusing on the tips of his ears that had seemed a bit flushed when he closed the door behind himself. 

taglist: @alwaysclassyeagle @hughescomplex @lupinslibraries @megaluke @cixrosie (send me an ask to be added!)

[cosmicoatlatte]

John 'Bucky' Egan - first base

word count: 3.0k

summary: getting abandoned by your friend during a night out might not be the worst thing...

warnings: mentions of drinking, misogyny/sexism surrounding dating

authors note: this is my first work for mota and even though it took me a lot longer than i expected i really hope you'll like it

By the time you reached the dance hall your little kitten heels had taken on a reddish brown hue from the dusty walkway. The evening was filled with music and chatter, the scent of tobacco hanging in the air.

“Come on.” Your friend Dorothy tugged on your linked arms, urging you to hurry up. Going dancing on base had been her idea, to celebrate your promotion —the youngest head of secretaries in any of the departments— but you suspected an ulterior motive on her end. It was no secret that she was sweet on the soldiers. 

“I’m coming, Dotty. No need to rush.” 

Several pairs of eyes watched as you approached the door, making you just a little nervous. There was a reason you didn’t go out as often as the other girls in the department.

You tried to look around to avoid any strange looks but the first thing you saw was a couple in the shadow of the building, a soldier holding his sweetheart against the building as they kissed, far too passionately this out in the open. Your eyes immediately snapped back towards the entrance door while you tried to ignore the heat in your cheeks. Maybe going out hadn’t been such a good idea. 

A fresh faced soldier opened the door for the pair of you with a wide grin that quickly slipped as Dotty winked at him. His eyes followed her until you were further inside and you leaned over to talk to her over the noise. “Must you flirt with every uniform? That boy didn’t look a day over eighteen.”

She just laughed in response, dragging you along the edge of the dance floor, expertly maneuvering through intertwined couples and groups of men standing around. “Relax, would you. That flirting got us a table so shush.”

Half an hour later you found yourself abandoned at the table, Dotty having gone to get a drink twenty minutes ago. The music wasn’t bad and you nodded along to one or two songs but without company your anxiousness turned into boredom. It took another song for Dot to turn back up but instead of a drink she brought a befuddled looking blond.

“I found you a friend.” She declared, pushing him towards the table before either of you could protest. “Major Cleven doesn’t dance and his sweetheart is coming next weekend so you don’t have to worry about him talking you up. I’m gonna go dance with James.” She pointed at a random soldier and then disappeared again.

The major sat, seemingly weirdly unaffected by your friend’s wild antics, and held a hand out to introduce himself, a gesture you returned.

“I’m sorry about Dotty. She insisted on going out to celebrate a promotion I received at work but it seems she’s already forgotten all about it.” You resigned yourself to sitting at the table until she got bored and found a fella she could sweet talk into dropping you home on their way to her place.

“Congratulations.” Major Cleven said. “And don’t worry about your friend. Nothing I can’t handle.”

The two of you talked for a while and you found yourself enjoying his company. He talked about his girl, Marge, with so much love and if there was one thing that you loved more than anything it was Love. Romance. Devotion.

When you recommended a few spots on base and off base that Major Cleven could take her while she came down to visit, he listened intently. In return he shared some of his group’s adventures from training. It was in the middle of a story about another soldier losing his boots through a bet when a loud voice interrupted him.

“Buck! I thought I’d lost you.” A pair of hands came down on either side of the major’s shoulders, giving him a shake. When your eyes followed them up you saw a dark haired man, a very handsome dark haired man, standing close behind the major. Looking down at you. “Who’s your friend?”

At your confused look Major Cleven just smiled. “He’s my Dotty.” He said, quietly, before speaking louder to introduce you. By the time he was done the dark haired man had rounded the table and sat next to his friend.

“John Egan, but my friends call me Bucky.”

There was a sparkle in his eyes you couldn’t look away from. It was almost distracting enough that you forwent protocol and referred to him by his offered nickname but your brain kicked in at the last minute, recognizing his name. “Major Egan.” You stated, watching his smile fall into confusion. “It’s good to put a face to the name. Colonel Smith talks about you plenty, sir.” You explained.

That charming smile returned as he leaned back in his chair. “You one of his girls then? What’s Smitty saying ‘bout me?”

“Head girl, sir. Just promoted. So forgive me for not breaking confidentiality.”

He, Major Egan, laughed loudly at your response, a wonderful sound. Beautiful view too, with his head thrown back in glee, exposing the long line of his neck. “Might be for the best. That way I can pretend he likes me.”

It was your turn to laugh, well aware of his reputation among your higher ups. While you weren’t looking at the major directly it didn’t escape your attention that he was watching you.

Even though you rarely gave into your friend's demands to go out, you knew what it was like to have soldiers watch you. The whole thing wasn’t something you enjoyed. Yet somehow Major Egan managed to do so in a way you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind it at all.

It was easy to let his eyes linger even if you knew that you shouldn’t mingle with the brass. It wouldn’t be proper at all, especially with your new position. And the man before you had a reputation on top of that. But all that seemed so unimportant as he stood up and held out his hand.

“Do you dance, doll?” His tone was playful and you felt your cheeks heat again at the nickname.

“I shouldn’t, Major Egan.”

Luckily he seemed to catch on to your word choice, straightening up. “So formal.” He teased. “If you’re denying me the pleasure of a dance I’ll pay a quick visit to the barkeep. Any request? I’ll buy…. for your promotion.”

“Oh I don’t—” You stopped yourself, “well one drink won’t hurt. I don’t know what they have available though. Surprise me, Major? Just nothing too strong.”

He flitted off with a wink and it was only then that you remembered Major Cleven, who had sat between the two of you silently for the entire exchange and was now looking at you with a knowing look in his eyes. Your own gaze dropped to your lap, embarrassed that the Major had seen your little flirtation.

“He’s a good man.” The blond major’s voice made your head snap back up. “Listens when you tell him no and he keeps his mouth shut if you tell him yes. Bucky’s intense but there is not a single soul I trust as much as him.”

He said it as if he already knew what you were thinking about. Weren’t thinking about. Shouldn’t think about.

“You’re a good friend Major Cleven but I don’t know what you’re trying to suggest. Major Egan simply offered to buy me a drink to celebrate. What other intentions he may have are completely irrelevant at this moment.”

He gave you a fond smile, like he already knew you didn't mean a word you said, but he didn’t call you on it which you were grateful for.

When the handsome Major returned it was with flourish, balancing three drinks in his large hands while he danced along to the music, making his way back to your table until he let himself fall into the seat next to you, not his friend. He wordlessly put a bottle on the table in front of Major Cleven before handing you a flute filled with a light bubbly drink.

You picked it up gently, careful not to spill the liquid inside. There was no ignoring the heavy presence of the major’s arm slung over the back of your chair but you didn’t allow yourself to lean back against it. Yet.

“To promotions.” He raised his glass —dark amber coming precariously close to the rim as he did— clinking it against yours before raising it towards Major Cleven who returned the gesture.

“To promotions.” You agreed. The drink he had gotten you tasted nice, a little sour in a good way, certainly better than the alcohol you had tried before. But most importantly it gave you the excuse you wanted.

You watched as Major Egan’s glass got emptier and emptier, the men joking around while you bid your time until there was nothing more that anchored you to the table.

Major Egan sat his empty glass down soundlessly and stood up, turning towards you and once again offering his hand, “Fancy a twirl now, doll?”

This time you accepted, letting him lead you to an open spot on the dance floor. His hand felt rough against yours but he held it gently, carefully, as he led and you followed. The band faded into the background as the Major guided you along the dancefloor. You could feel his other hand —large and warm— through the fabric of your dress where it rested respectfully on your waist, not an inch too high or too low. Steadying you.

You weren’t the most experienced dancer but it was clear to you that Major Egan knew how to move.

“Not all that proper now, are we?” He joked after you stepped closer to him, the side of his mouth quirked up into a mischievous grin as he looked down into your eyes.

“It is entirely improper Major, but I did have that one drink before you talked me into dancing with you so I think I’ll be forgiven should anybody question things.”

His eyes crinkled as he laughed, loud but not loud enough to draw even more attention to the two of you. “I talked you into dancing?”

The tone in his voice had you biting your lip as you nodded up at him.

“Alright, alright. Could I talk you into calling me Bucky then as well?”

“I don’t know Major Egan.” He spun you to the music, interrupting your response, before he pulled you close again. Closer than before. “I thought only your friends called you Bucky?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

The music changed but you barely acknowledged it, too lost in the feeling of his breath on your skin. Nothing more than a whisper. “You want to be friends, Major Egan?”

He gave you a wide smile but didn’t answer your question. The only indication that he had heard you was a subtle shift of his hand. You didn’t comment on it though, only letting yourself be led around the floor as the band continued to play.

“How are you getting home?” He finally broke the silence during a slower song. The evening was far from over but it seemed like the major had finally gotten impatient. 

You drew back a bit to look around, finding Dot not on the dancefloor but at a different table, perched on a soldier’s lap. “A friend gave me a ride but she seems rather occupied at the moment.”

It didn’t bother you too badly, part of you had even expected it. You would just walk to the nearest pay phone and call your father to come pick you up.

“A friend would make sure you got home safely, would they not?”

“What are you saying, Major?”

He looked over your shoulder for a moment, seemingly looking for somebody, before looking back down into your eyes. “I can get a car for us in ten minutes?”

There were many things you should have considered before agreeing. Optics for one. There weren’t many ways one could interpret you rushing off with a soldier. The consequences come Monday morning if your superiors found out. Even just the major’s intentions if you really were to go with him. But truth be told you had little care for those things at the moment.

When the two of you had parted ways it was in different directions, the charming major off into the masses to talk somebody, anybody, into handing over their keys, you towards the exit.

The sun must have just set, heat from the day still heavy in the air as you stepped outside. It felt easier than you’d thought —admitting to yourself that more time had passed than you suspected, hours flying by while you were wrapped in the arms of a man that had been a stranger at the beginning of the evening. Leaning back against the wall at the side of the building you didn’t have to wait long before the doors opened again and Major Egan walked outside with determined strides.

He stopped, looked around before spotting you, and walked closer. Closer.

Major Egan moved to cup your face, not slow but not fast either, giving you enough time to turn away or speak up. You didn’t. You wouldn’t. But even though your eagerness seemed so obvious to you it mustn't to him because he took his time leaning in, giving you an out until the last second.

When your lips finally connected it was gentle, barely more than a whisper before you got sick of waiting and pushed forward, rising on your tiptoes just enough to kiss him back. Properly.

It took him a second to respond and for a moment, brief and utterly terrifying, you thought you might've come on too strong. This, everything from the flirting to the kissing, had been a new experience and oh how silly of you to believe you've done well on the first try.

But then Major Egan? Bucky? John! kissed you back, pressing his lips against yours hard enough to bruise, turning your insides hot and bubbly. Those long fingers that had been holding your face so sweetly just moments before stroked over your skin, finding your cheekbone, your jawline, teasing where your lips connected. You gasped and he took the chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue pleading for permission to enter, warm and wet against your upper lip.

You granted his request —How could you not?— letting him press you further into the wall behind you as he kissed you. One of his large hands shielded your head from the brick he crowded you against, the other splayed wide on your waist like it had on the dancefloor. It was only when you had to pull away to breathe that you realized you’d ended up in the same situation you had judged the young lovers for at the beginning of the evening. At least the settling dusk provided you with the resemblance of a cover. The heat in your cheeks only intensified when you looked at the man in front of you. The —admittedly gorgeous— lipstick your friend had convinced you to wear now graced the Major’s face, going beyond the confines of his own lips and even tinting the hairs of his mustache. A sound —half embarrassed squeal, half laughter— left your lips before you could stop yourself.

Major Egan, John, smiled at you, oblivious of his own state. “You got a little something.” His thumb brushed under your bottom lip, undoubtedly cleaning whatever was left of your makeup. It was a sweet gesture you couldn’t repay since it would take more than the swipe of a finger to fix him up properly.

“You too.” Was all you could stutter out, rummaging in your purse for your compact and your handkerchief. It was sad to see the white embroidered cloth fall victim to red pigment but at least the major looked presentable, if a little flushed.

“Ready to go?” He held out his arm, chivalrous, as if you hadn't been devouring each other moments earlier.

You allowed yourself to be escorted towards his borrowed car, hand resting in the crook of his elbow as he led the way.

It was only when he opened the passenger door for you that you paused. You had been acting very unrestricted the entire evening but doubt had started to set in. You were a modern woman, or at least you wanted to be. But while you admired women like Dotty that owned their life to the fullest you weren’t all that ready.

“Major Egan?”

“So formal. I thought we were past that.” He said in a teasing tone but when he saw your face his expression changed and he listened seriously.

“I know I’ve been behaving awfully bold tonight sir, but I just wanted to make sure that there are no… expectations about the rest of the evening.”

He nodded, a soft smile on his face, before he spoke, tone so gentle you trusted him without hesitation. “Get in the car, doll.”

Major Egan closed the door behind you carefully before rounding the car and sitting in the driver's seat. He didn’t start the car though, instead he turned to look at you.

“I’m not going to lie and say I wouldn’t like to kiss you again, doll. Because I do. I really do. But I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We can take the long way or I can drive you straight home. Whatever you want, just say the word.” He turned to sit properly and started the motor. It was only when the car had already started rolling that he said more. “No matter what you choose, if you permit it I’d like to make sure you get home safely.” 

You looked at him, really looked at him, as you followed the road through the base. Even with the fading light he looked gorgeous. A strong side profile you wanted to spend more time looking at. The way his fingers drummed against the steering wheel.

It didn’t take all that long to make a decision but you still waited until the car pulled through the gates and off base before you answered him.

“Take the long way, John.”

[admirationandromantics]

Computer Assembling

The photo mentioned is the first one on the three-photo preview on the top. Fucking hell. I swear to god, you guys are going to be the death of me when writing cause ugh, this just flew and flew and flew! I don't have time to write like this, but can't help it when you make the exact scenarios I've been imagining myself. Holy shit, well, read the request and you'll get a good idea of what's about to happen. Ps, added some lovely smut in this, so enjoy <3

Word count: 2,4k (Unedited)

h a i . . . :3 sent u a photo in your inbox to go along with this little request/thot thinking about Chris lowkey being into building computers and he's wearing THAT outfit i sent you and his build looks like that too and maybe the relationship is like you guys are hanging out for maybe the 4-5th time ever and you're just sitting there staring and drooling and not being subtle at all and he's just stuttering and trying not to literally fuck you right then and there while you two are in his room while he builds his new pc build.. oh my god.. i really need nerdy, beefy chris today and your writing always fuels me 🫶😇 -@nerd-space

I can’t help staring at his arms, his sweater rolled up over them, making the lower half partially visible. I wonder what’s underneath the rest of it…

“Can you hand me that star-formed screw?” he asks, reaching out his hand for me to give him. I look around the floor, different bags of screws, corks, plastic and tools. I take some screws with crosses and hand them to him. He takes a quick look to see that they’re correct, before starting to spin them into the metal. I watch intently, his fingers working their magic, no detail too small. Being precise and delicate as he keeps going. Veins forming on his hands as he tightens the screws. 

He shifts, noticing my stare. I can’t control it, therefore I have to force my hand upwards, closing my mouth and turning my head. I bet he’d kick me out for the nasty thoughts I’m having. 

“So” he starts, coughing a little. “Think we can get this done in one night?” 

“I know something we can” 

“What?” 

Shit, I said that out loud. I stutter, trying to find something remotely similar which doesn’t sound as suggestive. 

“I know we can” I quickly rescue myself, and he gives a silent nod, dragging the metalwork on his lap, hiding the view I’m so shamelessly taking advantage of. I sigh, turning back to the equipment. We weren’t far away now, just one board and a little assembling left. I enjoy watching it, not just because of him, but because it looks just like lego. I bet if I bought a set, he’d build it with me. Another reason to watch his hands work, his muscles tense and veins popping. 

His room is cozy. Blinds are open, but the outside is dark. It’s nighttime after all. A lot can still happen before dawn. His walls are full of posters and pictures, his old gaming setup on the desk, as well as a semi-large bed. Around a queen-size one. I take another breath, thighs pressing together to stop my thoughts from wandering. 

“Are you feeling alright?” he asks, cheeks a bit flushed. Is it hot in here? 

“Um, yeah. Just you know”

“What?” 

“Nothing, I’ve just never been in your room before” 

“First time for everything, right?” He laughs a little, and I smile. His hand wanders up to his face, rearranging his glasses, pushing them back. God, if he only took them off, if he did and threw that piece of machinery on the floor and just took me hard right now on the-

“But yeah, none of the others have been here yet” he explains, waving to the room. I nod, looking around once again. The urge to look through his stuff is exhausting. I can’t help myself. 

“Mind if I check your drawers?” I ask, already standing up. He smiles, nodding along and holds his hand out. 

“Be my guest” 

I firstly walk to his desk, opening the first drawer and being met with a couple of game cards, coins and some paper and pens. All of them seem to be minecraft coordinates, remembering where different structures are and other people’s bases. 

“Didn’t take you for a Minecraft sweat–gamer” I joke, looking through the notes. 

“Well, when you’re playing with Josh, you kinda have to” 

“I see” 

I move to the other drawer, bending forward a little since it’s lower. Maybe a bit on purpose? He won’t notice either way. This one is full of candy wrappers, every colour just laying there. I dig through it, finding a small notebook on the bottom. 

“You know there’s something called a garbage bin?” 

“And you know there’s something called privacy?” 

“You said it was fine!” 

“Yeah, yeah” 

I open the book, seeing a couple of old drawings and doodles. Some of them are only scribbles. On one page is Ashley’s name, and my heart falls a bit. This was three years ago. It still doesn’t matter, we all know how down bad he was for her. I sigh silently, closing the book and putting it back. 

I figure that’s it, I’ll stop snooping now. I turn around, seeing him on the chair, screws still in hand as he works intently. I sit down on the bed, right over him, watching as he tightens them, arm flexing in the process. The curvature of his muscles as they reach all the way back behind his sweater. 

Jeez, I need to stop myself, I sound desperate. Desperately horny to be honest, but who wouldn’t be? He’s sitting there, with his arms bare, working his magic right beside me. Glasses on, pants unfortunately on, muscles tensing and a sweet blush on his face. His adorable glasses and messy hair. He said he got out of the shower right before I came. I feel hot, and it’s definitely not okay. What if he still likes Ashley? What if he sees me as just a friend, nothing more? I don’t want to ruin this. 

“Um, y-you’re turning quite red, are you alright?” he suddenly says, a worried look in his eyes as he looks down at me. I pull myself from my trance, chest heaving as I try to steady my pulse- 

“Yeah, I’m fine, just thinking” 

“About what?” He watches as my eyes linger over his arms once again, breathing getting uneven and my thighs pressing together. I have no shame, damnit. 

“Y-you know” 

“Care to elaborate on that?” He laughs a little, gazing over, taking in every inch of me. Am I that obvious? Was this top way too low-cut, because I’ve seen him staring a couple of times. 

“About why you’re staring down my chest” I blurt out, being too forward. Shit. His face gets completely red, hands working in a rush as his attention goes back to the project. He sighs, head leaning back as he collects himself. 

“You can’t expect me not to look when you’re dressed like that” 

“Hartley, are you calling me easy?” 

“Hey, I’ve seen how you’ve looked at me for the last hours” 

The room turns silent, my mouth open to say something back, but I don’t manage. He’s stopped working on the computer, arms stiff and eyes shocked, as if he can’t believe he caught me. Shit, he actually caught me. I’ve been so careful, at least as much as I could. We both stare at one another, and I feel my pulse go up again, heart beating faster and breathing quickening. Fucking hell, why is he staring at me like this? I look him up and down, the computer still being in his lap. 

“I-I um” I start, but can’t finish. A small smile creeps up on his lips as his attention goes back to the project as if nothing happened. I look up confused, wondering what just happened. 

“If my bare arms has that effect on you, you could’ve just told me” he laughs a bit, fastening the frame. 

“What, no, that’s not-”

“I mean, I can take off the whole thing if that’d make you pay attention, but I think it wouldn’t work” 

“Hey, I wasn’t-”

“But you can sit there drooling over my fucking fingers without me thinking about how you’d handle it” 

“What, handle what?” 

He puts the tools down, moving the computer off his lap and walking over. Just then, I notice his large bulge underneath his pants. The thought alone makes my face blush, all the ways I’ve imagined him coming back to haunt me. 

He leans over, and before I can process what’s happening, his lips are on mine, arms on either side of me on the bed. I melt into it, hands going up around his neck, pulling him closer. I lean down, dragging him with and letting him tower over me, even if we’re laying horizontally. His fingers move to grope my thigh, roughly kneading as he bites my lips. I can’t help the moan that escapes my cords, getting swallowed by him as he moves lower and looks up at me. 

“You really can’t keep testing my limits like this”

“What if I do?” 

“Then I can’t be held responsible for what I do next” 

“And what’ll that be?” 

“You’re about to find out” 

His lips leave kisses and bites all over my neck, sucking until he finds the spot making me scream. His hand immediately goes to cover my mouth, smiling as he stops for a bit. 

“Thin walls, I’ve got neighbours, contain yourself”

“Easy for you to say” 

“Do you know how much I’ve wanted to fuck the life out of you for the last few hours?” 

“N-no” I stammer, his hands moving under my shirt, groping my breasts. 

“So much I already had a trip to the bathroom, and you got me all going again as I came back” 

“So, you’ve already tried to take care of yourself” 

“You make it difficult” he smirks, dragging my top off. 

“Well, we have to do something about that” 

“You bet I am” 

He takes hold of my already unbuttoned pants, dragging them off with ease, and watching in hunger as my breast jiggles from the movement. I gasp at the cold air, feeling it especially on my soaked panties. He doesn’t waste time, unbuttoning his pants and dragging off the white, thin sweater, letting me see his muscular build. I reach up to him, feeling every curve of each muscle until he gets impatient and throws me down on the sheets. 

“Again, we’re not testing my limits tonight, they’ve already been crossed” 

I snicker, feeling him cage me with his arms as he kisses my lips. I carefully take off his glasses, placing them on the nightstand. His face is flushed, chest heaving as he breathes, but I don’t blame him. I probably look worse. He kisses down my stomach, stopping by my thighs to suck them dry. I moan loudly, forgetting about the walls and neighbours. They would have to deal with it. He leaves red and blue marks all over, several times causing me to slam my legs shut. He doesn’t get hurt though, his big strong arms keeping them apart easily before moving to my heat. His fingers trace over the wet fabric, and he hums to himself when feeling it. When feeling me. I whine from the tender contact, the touch too weak to do anything about my craving. He stands up, taking fully off his pants and boxers. I do the same, wanting him so incredibly bad, right now. I’ve waited for him long enough. I pull off my panties, unhooking my bra and throwing it off. He stands there mesmerized by the sight, but I don’t let him take it in. 

“Gaze while we fuck, I need you now” I whisper, taking his hand and dragging him over me again. 

“As you wish ma’am” 

He leans over me, letting his length coat itself in my juices. I’m so ready for him, even though I didn’t get the time to see how big he is, I need him right now inside me. 

“Are you sure you can take it?” he whispers teasingly, making my tension build up. 

“Chris, I swear to god I’ll do it myself if you don’t-”

I give a loud moan as he pushes himself completely in, filling me too much, way over the brim. He gropes my thigh, lifting my leg to get him even further, almost reaching my cervix. I whine, the pain and pleasure merging together and starting to build in my stomach. 

“You know, there’s something so satisfying about shutting you up” 

“So this is how confident and cocky you get when you understand that someone likes you?” 

“Maybe”

“Do I need to remind you of the time you saw me in that short skirt-”

I moan loudly again as he pushes out and completely in again. That time, his face was flustered the whole night. I even got a comment from both Mike and Josh, which made him look over more often, watching intently the whole night. 

“If you keep reminding me of stuff like that, we’ll stay here until dawn” 

“I wouldn’t mind that” 

He starts moving, each thrust earring whimpers and moans from us both, filling the room with our voices and sloppy slapping. His hand eventually finds its way down to my clit, rubbing soft circles in rhythm with his movements. My arms go to his back and neck, pulling him down and meeting my lips with his, my nails scratching from the heavy stimulation. He knows what he’s doing, and he’s doing it well, the knot in my stomach steadily building up as he keeps going. 

“Switch” I whisper, and he obliges, turning us around and letting me straddle him. I start moving immediately, chasing my orgasm as he whimpers and groans. I jump up and down, my thighs doing most of the work. He notices quickly, and his arms go to my ass, groping harshly and moving me. The position makes him reach a new angle deep inside, making the pleasure unbearable. I’m so incredibly close, I just need a little more time. I start feeling hotter, sweat appearing on my forehead as I keep up the sloppy rhythm, letting my breasts jiggle in front of him. 

I start grinding a bit when I go down, letting our pelvises touch, and giving me that extra stimulation on my clit. This takes over me, making me go over the edge, tightening around him. I keep going, riding out my high on top of him as he jumps me up and down. He gives one last slam, pressing me deep on him and spilling inside me. Thank god I’m on the pill. 

I collapse on top of him, pulse skyrocketing and chest heaving. We’re both sweaty and flustered, breathing in sync as his hand comes to caress my back. I hum into his neck, kissing him softly. 

“So, I think you might have a thing for me” he smiles, fingers going to tangle in my hair. 

“You don’t say” 

“I’m not complaining”

“You better not” I laugh, capturing his lips on mine yet again. “Should we finish that computer?” 

“You don’t want to see what else these hands can do?” 

“I’m not saying no to that”

[chaosduckies]

Silence In The City (1)

I hate school a lot for not letting my finish anything that I wanted to write and luckily I found the time to write today! So I give you an idea I’ve had on my mind for a good while, I’ve just never written it down! I will say these characters are some of my favorite because of the dynamic I have planned for them! Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 4.3k

CW: Violence, depictions of anxiousness and anxiety

1-

Everything was all wrong. The way the system works. How life works. How humans work. It was all just some twisted lie. Of course humankind had been ruthlessly attacked by these monsters at first. Huge and massive beings that rose from the sea, easily crumbling buildings and killing millions. It was terrible, taking ages to finally figure out a way to kill them. There was nothing to bring back the lives lost, everyone was broken apart, cities crumbled to dust as vegetation took over what was originally theirs. And soon, it repeated and repeated, until these monsters would finally restore their original home. Destroying countless cities along the coast, sometimes even working their way closer to the middle of the land. Though they were usually killed by then. 

I’ve never really been the type for fighting. Yet, I still find myself here. They had told us to go into our underground bunkers for safety but I couldn’t make it in time. The city was quiet except for the thundering footsteps coming from the monster. I just ran into a building, scared and alone. I had no idea where my parents were, but I had hoped that they were safe. Next thing I knew, the monster was after me. Crumbling down buildings in an attempt to take a life since there was no one else around. Or so I had thought. I was cornered and tired, the dust from all the rubble filling my lungs. I was about to be killed by the rubble falling on top of me. I had already given up, knowing that I wasn’t going to get out of this alive. When nothing had happened and there was a loud thud, I looked up, seeing an even bigger, more powerful being, standing over the monster. The monster struggled to get up while the one standing over leaned down, its eyes focusing on me. 

They only looked half like the monster that had just threatened my life, but yet, didn’t have the same malicious look in his eyes. Scales all along their body that stopped halfway up their fingers, neck, and chest. The most beautiful shade of purple eyes that I have ever seen, toned skin, tail with spikes all along their spine, even another pair of arms. And yet somehow, he acted even more human than he looked. He showed concern for a little while before scooping me up somehow, protecting me against any further danger. After all the loud growling and harsh noises were gone, only leaving the strange humanoid kaiju huffing for breath. They opened up their hands high up in the air,  eyes studying me with worry. As if they had been making sure I wasn’t injured. Of course I was still scared. I didn’t know what was going to happen to me. Or what this guy would do to me. He had looked more human anyways. 

Soon enough, I heard my parents' strained voices crying for me. Out of desperation to be reunited, I crawled over to the edge of their palm, reaching out to them with tears in my eyes. They had noticed the person who had saved me, obviously scared but they stayed, wanting me back. I looked back at the half-human half-kaiju, their eyes glaring down at my parents. He turned towards me, eyes going wide before slowly lowering his hand to the ground. I stumbled off, nearly falling face first but ran into the warm hug that was waiting for me. I glanced back at the monster who had looked away, having a troubled and dark expression before locking eyes with me. I started trembling, but otherwise put on the best nervous smile as my parents urged me to run away. Their eyes shot up before he crawled away, making sure not to crumble buildings. 

I hadn’t forgotten about that day. When people were allowed to come out, we all tried to go back to our homes, but most of them had been demolished. Including mine. We were placed in a camp until they could find a home for us to relocate to, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about that guy. Whether they had been a monster or human, they had saved me. Even protected me. And I still ran away without giving a thank you. I was terrified, sure, but that didn’t condone not thanking him. They practically saved the whole city and they wouldn’t ever get any recognition for it. Usually those huge monsters were killed by people who could handle the suits, I’ve never seen anything like what just happened ever. Not on tv at least. Why did they look so… surprised by me though? Like when I smiled at them, or when I was just scared out of my mind in the corner. I never found out the answer until today. 

The camp was full of people. We were just lucky that food was okay and that we were getting supplied everything we needed. Until a military team had arrived. They were searching for someone. Telling people to gather in an area so they could check our faces. When they came up to me, they had all started talking. This didn’t happen with any other person, which just worked up my nerves. Why were they here? To take me away? To punish me for not being able to make it to the bunker on time? I wasn’t made for war! Was it because of that human-monster hybrid? Was I not supposed to see them? What was going on? A million questions stirred in my mind, making me anxious and worried. I had feared that they would be taking me away from home, and kept hoping that it wasn’t the case. 

I stayed still, playing with my hands and looking down at the ground, waiting to be told what would happen next. I was scared. I always have been. There was no reason for me to, but the anxiety always made me feel this way. This wasn’t helping at all either. The military people came back, my parents gripping my shoulders and kept whispering that everything would be okay. I didn’t believe them this time. They walked up to me once again, “You’re being transferred under government care. Your objective is classified until arrival. Please follow us.” They had instructed, waiting for me to follow them. I jumped, looking back up at my parents with mortified faces. They were just as terrified as I was. I looked back at the guy who was just talking to me, “B-But my parents?” I scooted closer to them as they gripped my shoulder tighter. He had sighed, walking but up to me, “Only you. Sorry kid, you’re being called to duty, and if you ignore we have been ordered to take you forcefully.” 

My eyes shot open, my entire body pausing. I didn’t hear when my parents started arguing to let them come with me, but it just wasn’t allowed. My mom, with tears in her eyes, looked at me. I always hated when she cried, “It’ll be okay, alright Devon? Just please be careful.” I knew why she was saying it. They were going to take me away, and I don’t even get a say. My parents had argued for me but… I never fought for myself. Never was a fan of fighting. They had, however, allowed me to pack a few things. Or what I had left of my stuff. My parents watched me pack a few clothes, making sure I had everything. I looked back, seeing my dusty stuffed animal dog and grabbed it. I knew it was childish but I couldn’t go anywhere without him. I could just clean them off when I get to wherever I was going to. My mom made sure to grab my pills and placed them in my bag, “Don’t forget to take these.” She smiled sadly, trying not to cry. To be honest I was trying my hardest as well. I didn’t understand why I had to leave. They never gave me a reason, and I was anxious. Was it bad? The place they were taking me to? Was I in trouble? 

The thoughts never escaped my mind as I hugged my parents close, then started to follow the guy into a car. People had surrounded me, as if making sure I wouldn’t try anything. Of course I wouldn't. I already knew I wouldn’t win that battle. Not now or not ever. It was quiet on the way there. Sitting in a car for two hours, only listening to the people on the radio transmissions and getting stares from the people sitting next to me. I stayed quiet, afraid that if I said anything it would only make my situation worse. I was already away from my parents and I’ve lost my home, what more could they do to me besides kill me? I panicked at the idea as the car drove past a massive gate. There were several check-ins, and soon we were finally in. My heart wouldn’t stop beating as I stared at the huge base. I walked through several hallways, earning stares from a lot of people. Some older, some looking the same age as me. I knew what this place was. To train people to kill those monsters that terrorize cities. Was that what I was here for? I wouldn’t even last a single hour here. 

They took me up an elevator, leading me to another place where there was a lab. Holographic screens everywhere, people testing new weapons out. I flinched when someone had started barking orders. I gripped my backpack tighter, thoughts swirling in my mind. Could I just go back home with my parents? Can’t I just cry right now? It’s taken so much out of me just to stop myself. I didn’t want to show it to everyone else around me though. They would think I’m even more of a useless kid than they already do. I could already tell that. So what was I even doing here if they all thought that about me? 

The people started talking with one another before one of the scientists came up to me, the people who used to stand beside me to make sure I didn’t try to escape took a step to the side. The woman was tall and looked to be in her thirties. I jumped as her eyes pierced through me, seeming to stare deep into my soul as she studied my every move. My eyes nervously trailed down to the ground, nervously moving around my feet. I felt like a big underneath her stare. And it didn’t feel very good. 

“This is who the monster decided to save?” She sounded unimpressed as she wrote things down, circling around me. She lifted up one of my arms, shaking her head and sighing, “Too skinny, too weak, do you suffer from any illnesses?” She asked. I looked at her sadly, forcing my voice to work without cracking, “Anxiety disorder.” She raised her eyebrows, muttering something under her breath that I couldn’t hear. It made my anxiousness even worse.

But what did she mean by monster? Was it that guy that saved me? My eyes went wide at the thought. I was going to see him again? I felt terrified and scared, but at the same time happy? It was a strange mix of emotions as she had dragged me to a large metal door that seemed heavily protected. Automatic windows had opened, revealing a large room with only one inhabitant inside. My eyes widened as I played with my hands and shuffled my feet. There, only a few meters behind the glass, was the person that saved him. Trapped in a tiny metal box. Well, tiny to him, not so much for me. They looked to have been bothered in their sleep and slowly started opening their eyes, letting out a soft groan and never moving. Some part of me screamed to run, to hide and never look back, but the other part felt sympathy for him. Why was he locked up in here? Did he do something bad? It didn’t really seem like it. They looked so peaceful, as if nothing was wrong.

“You’re going to go in there. No escaping and we can’t guarantee that it won’t kill you.” She instructed, getting ready to throw me in there. He gripped my bag and continued to look out the window, my nerves only worsening. Kill me?... would he really do that? After being so gentle and protective? Was that why I was here? Just to meet him again? See how he’d react to seeing the one person he helped get out alive. “Get a peculiar reaction out of him like you did at the attack and we’ll see what we’ll do with you after…. If you’re still alive,” She grinned like she had expected it to happen, “Here’s a tablet containing the means of shocking it into submission if you feel threatened, here is also an ear microphone so we can speak to you through it.” She handed me a small tablet with a few buttons, but I eyed the button with the lightning bolt on it warily. Shock him? I could barely think about it without gagging.

I gulped, not knowing how he would react to me. Holding the tablet that I had an odd feeling he would recognize and hate me for it. I also hated the fact that she called him an “it” and a monster. If he was a monster then why’d he kill one? Why would he save me in the first place? Why make sure he wouldn’t topple over any buildings? I took a deep breath before I was shoved on the other side of the door. I yelped, landing face first onto the cold metal floor. I groaned quietly to myself, sitting up with my backpack still attached to me. I let out a sigh of relief, then made the mistake of looking up. My eyes were glued to the massive being in front of me, their entire face taking up my vision. I felt myself barely breathing, my body trembling, but I never ran away. 

I jumped when their eyes had opened, groggily searching around the room until they landed on me. I held in a breath, my eyes wide but not full of fear. This was the person that saved me. They wouldn’t kill me, right? It didn’t really sound logical at all. Though… that didn’t really explain why he was locked up in here. He didn’t really look like the type to do any true harm to someone

As soon as their eyes found me we held a silent staring contest until his own eyes grew wide as he picked up his head. Did he recognize me? He shook his head, laying back down on his arms. I looked around. Seeing that the room was cramped. Not for him at all but for the guy just laying on the ground seemed to be cramped. The ceiling looked too low for them to get on their legs, heck, it even looked too low for them to sit on their knees and sit up straight. I flinched when they slightly moved their head up a little more. I felt like a tiny bug under their gaze. I stared at one of their hands, the one I had been in just a few days prior and shuddered. Their claws were at least three times my own height. I briefly wondered just how small I am to him. How he saw me through his eyes. Just a bug? Another small insignificant creature? 

I gripped the tablet in my hands, listening to the microphone in my ear. They had kept saying to talk, to do something, but what was there to do? He was just sleeping, and I ruined it. I didn’t like the thought that they forced me to bother him. And the fact that he looked annoyed with me being in here too. I sucked in a shaky breath looking away and at the door, but I couldn’t help but turn back to the vibrant purple eyes glaring at me, no, the tablet. The collar around his neck seemed to be the shock collar basing it off of the marks around where it is on his neck, there were also some on his wrists. All four of them. I looked down at the tablet in hand, and back at him, still glaring at the object in my hand. It sent a chill down my spine as I did the exact opposite of what they kept telling me to on the microphone. I placed it down and kicked it away from me, along with the microphone. There was no reason for me to have either of them. I wasn’t going to pay attention to what they were going to say. None of this seemed right to me. 

Their eyes went wide at my action, looking between me and the tablet that must not have looked far to him, but it was for me. They seemed to be shocked as they raised their head up, and up, until entirely looming over me, holding themselves up with their crossed arms. I gulped, not realizing just how big they truly were. I backed away a little thinking, for only a brief moment, that it was a mistake to toss away the one thing that could have kept me alive. Though, if he really wanted me dead wouldn’t he have done so the other day? Instead of saving me he could’ve just let it happen. Instead he didn’t. And I still had yet to thank him! They lowered their head, as if trying to examine me more before looking away, disappointed. Though I did catch a bit of sadness hidden. I hadn’t noticed how much I was trembling. Or how much I had backed away, my back almost against the wall. I felt terrible for looking that way in front of him. What if that was why he was disappointed? Because everyone was scared of him and so am I? Of course I’m scared but at least I’m attempting to try something. I scrambled further up to see him looking completely away, almost turned to face the wall opposite of me. I kept taking steps closer despite the warnings given, and stood a few feet away from one of his hands. Big, scary, but I just grabbed the backpack on my shoulders and stood up on shaky legs. My breath was shaky, but I forced words to come out eventually, “Th-thank you. For saving m-me.” He slowly turned his head, his eyes searching to see if I was lying. I heard him scoff above me, the noise deep and irritated, “You’re a really good liar. How about you go back with your friends out there and treat me like some monster like they all do?” I covered my ears with my hands, their voice loud. Liar? Friends? Monster? Did he mean the scientists? Why did he think I was lying? Was he really a monster if he saved my life and practically everyone else’s by dealing with the real monster that day? Now there were even more questions than answers. 

I didn’t move. Even though I was terrified, trembling, and honestly thinking about just making a run for it, I still stayed. It was silent for what seemed like forever before they moved again, glaring at me, eyes piercing through my soul. “Go away.” He nearly growled, slamming a fist on the ground. I was airborne for a half a second, placing my hands out in front of me so I didn’t land on my face. Heart racing, breath shaky, tears forming in my eyes. Dead- Dead. I could’ve died. The thoughts wouldn’t leave as I stared at the fist only mere feet away. I looked back down, watching as my own tears hit the metal ground below. I could’ve been dead now. Why wasn’t I dead? Why was I alive right now? Wasn’t he going to kill me? My breathing quickened, my arms and legs becoming weak. I used a shaky hand to grab a fistful of my shirt against my chest, feeling how hard my heart was beating. How it seemed to ring through my ears with every thump. I closed my eyes, trying to get as much air into my lungs to calm myself down. My stomach throbbing. The anxiety eating at me. The constant thoughts of how I could’ve died. What I would look like. I just kept taking shaky breaths, slowly regaining my mind. I reached into my bag worriedly, grabbing a water bottle and my pills, dumping two out into my hand and downing them with water. I held my head, taking my last few deep breaths. My body was still trembling and my heart was still beating abnormally fast, but at least my mind wasn’t lost. 

Using the back of my hand, I wiped away the tears, sniffling and forcing myself to look up. Their other hands clawing at the metal, their eyes still piercing through me, holding me in place out of fear. Why was he so angry? Was it because he was trapped in here? Because they treat him like this? It didn’t take a whole lot to figure out how they take care of him. The collars, the tablet, the chains on his lower pair of arms. Who knows what else. But was he really that bad? I mean, of course I just had a near death experience, but after a second look I realized he was just trying to scare me. It would’ve worked. The people here were terrible. It didn’t matter if he was half kaiju half human, did it? It didn’t matter if he was probably taller than a skyscraper. Okay well that might invoke fear in literally everyone he meets but still. It didn’t really seem to me that he truly wanted to hurt anyone. A few days ago he struggled to avoid breaking anything that might wreck the city even more than it already was. He even held me to keep me safe. How was he being held in a prison like this when he’s saving billions of people? It just didn’t sit right with me. 

I gathered up whatever courage I had left in me, trying to forget about what had just happened, “I-I’m sorry that you’re i-in here.” My voice came out weak, quiet, almost like I was about to cry. Honestly, I was. Everything about this was telling me to run and get the heck out of here. That would be wrong. That would be proving their point that I think of them as a monster, wouldn’t it? 

Their eyes widened in shock, lowering their head even more, almost touching the floor. I flinched when they moved their fist, flattening their hand on the ground as if they were confused and interested. It was unnerving to have their full attention, but I stared right back, rubbing my arms to hide the fact that I was shaking. He lifted his head back up, contemplating. I had no idea what was happening, but for some reason their entire mood had seemed to shift. Why did they react that way when I said that I was sorry? They didn't seem mad anymore. Relief washed over me as he raised his hand up and covered up a mirror high above me. Was it actually a window? Were they watching us? I didn’t know. 

He sighed, studying me like he was earlier, trying to see if I was lying, “You’re hard to stay mad at,” His voice was a lot quieter, “Kieran. That’s my name.” He opened his mouth like he was about to say something else but shook his head, looking down at me. I sucked in a shaky breath. Kieran? “Devon.” I quietly said. He seemed to hear me before somehow. He removed his hand from the mirror, glaring at it for a few seconds like they had done some unspeakable crime. They actually did actually, keeping Kieran here in the first place. 

“You’re welcome for saving you by the way. Don’t expect me to do it again.” He told me, turning away. I couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to sound happier now. Like he was happy I was talking to him. I smiled, jumping when the door opened. I watched as several people walked it, three of them carrying a tablet and keeping a close eye on Kieran. The other people walked right towards me. I flinched, unable to fight back against the grip they had on my arms. I was forced to my feet and shoved through the door. I stole one more glance back at Kieran, meeting their sad eyes. Once the doors were closed, I let them push me around the long hallways. What did they mean they wouldn’t dave me again. Would they have to? I wouldn’t think so if I was going home after this. I did what they asked me to do, didn't I? Why did he look so sad when I left? 

Eventually they opened a door that led to a small room with only the necessities. A bed, bathroom, closet. They threw me in there, “People will come and get you in the morning. They asked that you rest for now.” They had ordered from me. What? Was I staying here for the night and going home? I sat on the bed, digging out my stuffed animal and laying down, sinking into the hard mattress. I sucked in a shaky breath and cried silently. Nothing could ever just be normal. 

——————

I’ve absolutely loved kaiju ever since I could remember and I’ve been wanting to write a story for it! To be honest I mostly wrote this for myself just to feed my delusions but also just to get out of my writer’s block and to save me from spiraling cause of school. But thank you for reading! This actually did get me out of a major writing slump (thank you school) so I will finally be able to finish answering asks and writing commissions. Thank you for being so patient!

Taglist: @da3dm, @dav8530

If you would like to be added to any of my writing please let me know!

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

My Heart Takes Off on a High-Speed Chase

I'm Bright Baby Blue, Falling Into You

Chelsea!Roy Kent x Coach's Daughter!Reader

4.6k words

Warnings: Language, lying/sneaking around, no Ted Lasso characters except for Roy, fluff & flirting, protective dad, mean girls being mean girls, some spiciness

The alarm was supposed to go off at about four in the morning so you could slip back into your open window before anyone noticed you were out all night. Somehow, it didn’t. Instead, you were woken up by the sound of Roy’s light snores and the faint sunshine beginning to peek through his bedroom window.

“Fuck,” you hissed, glimpsing the clock that announced it was close to six in the morning. “Roy.” You shook his shoulder. “I gotta fucking go.” You sat up and began throwing the blankets off of you, grimacing when the cold morning air hit your bare legs.

A firm grip wrapped around your middle and tugged you back down. “Don’t go, babe,” came a sleepy growl.

Babe. Roy had never called you babe before. Princess, gorgeous, beautiful, sure, but never babe. Something about the little syllable that tumbled past his drowsy lips had your heart pounding louder than you knew the crowd at Stamford Bridge would be that afternoon. Did he mean it? you wondered. Did he mean to call you a name that held so much weight? Something that implied affection and belonging to one another? Fuck, you hoped so.

But this was too much thinking for six in the morning, you decided. So instead, you let out an awkward chuckle and pressed a kiss to his cheek, all warm from being pressed to his pillow all night. “I’ve gotta go,” you huffed as you climbed out of bed.

With a stretch and a yawn, Roy sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His eyes began to brighten as he watched you turn to the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. “Not sick of me already?” he teased, waggling his eyebrows at you.

“Course not.” You couldn’t help but smile as you tugged on the t-shirt Roy had all but ripped off you the night before.

“Good.” He reached out and grabbed your hand so he could tug you back to himself. You stood between his knees, gazing down at him, unable to resist the urge to run your fingers through his dark curls. The way his mouth pulled up in the corners told you he was enjoying your soft touch. “Because I am absolutely not sick of you.” To prove his point, he began planting open-mouthed kisses on your neck, smirking at the way your head rolled back and the little groan that slipped past your lips.

Trying to keep some composure, you placed your hands firmly on his broad shoulders in a half-hearted attempt to shove him off of you. “Stop that,” you grumbled, not really meaning it. “Or I may never leave.”

Rather than stop, he glided his tongue against your skin sinfully slow. “That’s the plan, princess.”

It took a lot of pawing and sloppy kissing and whining and sighing, but the two of you finally managed to put some clothes on and leave Roy’s flat. After laughing and pushing him off of you in the car, you finally climbed back up that tree and through your window, praying to whatever god was out there that your father wasn’t looking outside as you scurried up. You collapsed into your bed with a huff, trying to wipe the stupid smile off your face. How the hell were you supposed to go to Chelsea’s season opener and not act like you were giddy over their gruff midfielder? As sexy as he was when he made you laugh or when you were in bed together, the truth was you never found him more attractive than when he was on the pitch. He’d be wearing Chelsea blue, running circles around opponents, rough and skillful, not to mention the beads of sweat that would drip down all the muscles you’d now seen up close and personal. Fuck, you’d be drooling in the stands for everyone to see.

Against your better judgement, you gravitated towards your number six kit when you finally began to get ready for the day’s match. It wasn’t like this was your first time wearing his name on your back; you had plenty of kits featuring the names of your dad’s players. But this time felt a bit riskier, as though you were broadcasting something to the world. Then again, how could you resist grabbing the blue material with KENT embroidered on the back when his name was slowly becoming imprinted on your heart?

Unsurprisingly, your dad narrowed his eyes at the sight of the familiar number six on your back. “What’s with the kit?” he mumbled, grumpiness in his voice.

You blinked, all faux innocence. “It’s opening day,” you answered simply. “I always wear a kit on opening day, Dad.”

“And what made you pick that one?” His voice was even and low- and positively dangerous.

Still, you shrugged as you stuffed your mobile into your purse. “Just grabbed the first one I saw,” you lied. “Is it a problem?”

Of course it was. You knew it was. You knew you were pushing boundaries and making your dad uncomfortable. He was watching you blur the lines with his star midfielder, a man with a reputation for spending almost as much time in women’s beds as on the pitch. He wasn’t oblivious to your little crush, but it was clear that something was different. Roy was clearly flirting back, clearly distracted every time you were around. It was enough to make any father uneasy.

But he didn’t push. Instead, he simply grunted and grabbed his keys, leading you out to the car. It was a quiet drive to Stamford Bridge, quieter than usual. You chalked it up to the first match of the season; it made you feel far too guilty to believe he was this unhappy with your friendship with Roy.

At least being at the stadium allowed you to feel distracted. You put on your badge and waved to the staff, faces you’d spent years around. Even with your sulking father next to you, you couldn’t help bouncing with excitement. For you, opening day was better than Christmas. It held opportunities and excitement, the promise of a new start.

It also presented the chance to see Roy in his Chelsea kit.

You had been in your dad’s office when he ambled in, the picture of confidence in his black leather jacket. His eyes were immediately drawn to you. With so many people milling around, the most he could do was offer a casual nod of acknowledgement, but you could see the look in his eyes. They were sparkling, full of joy, and you couldn’t help but wonder how much was caused by the dawn of a new season- and how much was caused by you.

Hoping to avoid your dad’s ire, you busied yourself with organizing his already tidy desk, pausing only to steal glances at Roy as he changed. Even with being in bed with him mere hours ago, you fought the urge to sigh contentedly as he peeled off his shirt, exposing his bare chest. As if he knew he had an audience, he took his time digging through his locker for his kit, even stopping to greet a few teammates who passed by. Sure, it all looked natural, like he was just preparing for the match, but the way he slyly quirked an eyebrow before tugging his kit on let you know that yes, he knew you were watching.

“Better head to your seat,” your dad finally mumbled as you handed him his lucky water bottle.

Deciding to play nice, you nodded and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Good luck out there, Dad,” you called as you left the coaches’ office- through the changing room, of course.

“Do I get a good luck kiss?” Roy murmured as you passed him. He busied himself with lacing up his boots, but you could hear the teasing in his voice.

You scoffed, pretending you weren’t wishing you could do exactly that. “As if Roy Kent needs luck.”

He sat up, clearly fighting a smile. “I’m scoring a goal for you today, you know.” Damn, he looked so cocky, with his smirk and the smugness dripping from his voice. And it fucking worked on him. “You can thank me later.” His wink had your knees threatening to buckle.

“Don’t go making promises you can’t keep,” you joked. With the entire team and coaching staff around, the most you could do was lightly punch his arm. “Have a good game, Kent.”

His eyes held yours for a moment, charming arrogance suddenly gone. “With you in the stands? Wearing my kit? Of course it’ll be good.” Another wink had you unable to contain your grin.

You were still smiling as you made your way through the stands to your seat. While your mum and brother were sitting in their usual seats just below the owners’ box, today you sat with some of the wives and girlfriends, right next to Jules’s wife, Katie. She’d called earlier in the week, asking if you’d be at the match- something she didn’t really need to ask- and inviting you to take the ticket a friend of hers had to turn down. Of course, you said yes. You liked Katie; she was easily your favorite of the wives.

She greeted you with a hug and a kiss on your cheek, thanking you for joining her. “Nice kit,” she teased with a wink. Even though you’d never told her about your crush on Roy, she could clearly see your attraction to the midfielder. It was always a little embarrassing how obvious you seemed to be, but now, knowing Roy was pretty infatuated with you in return, it stung a little less.

Still, you rolled your eyes and gave Katie a light shove. “If I had crush on every player whose kit I wore, we’d be in big trouble,” you scoffed, acting as if the name on your back wasn’t special to you.

Katie smiled but seemed to let you off the hook. “Jules had a good time last night,” she finally chirped. “He said you two sat together at dinner.”

Relieved to have a new topic, you nodded eagerly. “He’s always a blast,” you said. “The three of us should hang out sometime.” You meant it; Jules always made you laugh, and Katie was one of the nicest people you knew. You definitely wouldn’t mind more time with them.

“Or we could invite Kent and make it an even four,” Katie suggested slyly.

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Alright, I’m not talking to you for the rest of the day,” you declared, folding your arms and slouching.

With a giggle and an arm wrapped around your shoulders, Katie shook her head. “No! We can’t have that!” She gave you a squeeze. “Especially since I haven’t told you that I talked to my bosses about you.” She waggled her eyebrows. “They’d love to read your work sometime.”

Despite your attempt at pouting, you couldn’t help smiling at Katie. “I still have one more year of school,” you reminded her. “Lots of deadlines and stress. But once I graduate, I’ve got lots of ideas, I swear.”

She nodded eagerly. “Fine, we’ll wait. But you’ve got to promise me first dibs on your debut novel, alright?”

“Alright,” you promised.

The two of you chattered about your writing- which, truthfully, you’d been neglecting lately due to being so wrapped up in Roy- until the team came out to be introduced for the first time for the season. You rose to your feet with the rest of the stadium, shouting and cheering for the men in their blue kits. You chuckled listening to normally reserved Katie shriek her husband’s name; secretly, you wished you could scream Roy’s name just as brazenly. Instead, you settled for clapping and hooting for each player, unable to resist raising your voice a smidge when the announcers called out Roy’s name.

The match started excitingly enough; neither team had scored as the first half approached its end, but there had been some thrilling plays, and Chelsea had come close to scoring more than a few times. But you knew your dad wouldn’t be happy going into halftime with a nil-nil score.

“Come on boys!” you shouted, the way you normally would at training, as if they could hear you over the roar of the stadium.

The ball passed to Roy’s feet as he sprinted down the pitch towards the goal. He was almost a blur, speeding past every player that approached him. In the blink of an eye, he advanced to the goalkeeper and took his shot.

“KENT SCORES!”

You shot to your feet, screaming and throwing your hands in the air. Everyone around you cheered, and Katie joined you in jumping up and down excitedly.

“Atta boy, Kent!” you called out, not bothering to hide your smile as you watched the team embrace him.

“Is that Kent’s girl?” a snide voice behind you asked.

A scoff answered the question. “That’s the manager’s daughter.” You vaguely recognized the voice; it was someone’s girlfriend, a swimsuit model if you recalled. “She’s so not Kent’s type.”

Your face went beet red as you continued your clapping, as if you hadn’t heard the insulting tone in the woman’s voice. Katie clearly also heard, based on the pitiful look she sent your way. She shook her head, as if she were telling you to ignore them. Instead, you focused on the sound of someone’s radio, listening to the excited commentators gush over Roy.

“Kent is positively beaming after scoring Chelsea’s first goal of the season,” they were saying. “And he’s- is he curtsying?”

Your eyes were back on the pitch in an instant. There was Roy, gorgeous in his kit, holding his shorts out like a skirt and giving a little bow- right in your direction. You covered your mouth to keep from laughing out loud; while to everyone else it probably looked like the midfielder was being uncharacteristically silly, you knew this was his signal that his goal had been for you- Chelsea’s princess.

As you and Katie took your seats and watched the teams set for kickoff, Marie, a defender’s wife on Katie’s other side, leaned close. “Do you two know what the hell Kent was doing?” she chuckled with raised eyebrows.

Katie shook her head before turning to you with teasing eyes. “Any idea, princess?”

“No clue,” you hummed, leaning back in your seat and fighting the smile that was forming on your face. Surely, if you kept your mouth shut, Katie would stop staring at you expectantly. When she didn’t, you just rolled your eyes at her. “How am I supposed to know why Kent does what he does?”

She shrugged. “Thought maybe he told you he was planning on it last night.” The referee’s whistle distracted her from the way you nearly choked at her words. “Jules said the two of you were particularly friendly at dinner.”

Relief flooded your chest when you realized she was talking about the team dinner, not your late-night activities with the footballer. “Kent and I are always friendly,” you snorted as you clapped along with everyone else for the team that was now disappearing for halftime. “It’s part of, you know, being friends.”

Katie hummed knowingly but dropped it. However, she still managed to elbow you and waggle her eyebrows when Roy and the rest of the team returned to the pitch for the second half. And she gave a playful little scoff when the match ended- 3-1 in Chelsea’s favor- and Roy raised his hand in your direction. Your fierce blush sure didn’t help things as the two of you stood and began making your way down to the tunnels to wait for the players to emerge from the changing room. You avoided the eyes of the models who’d laughed at you earlier, cringing when you saw them wrap their arms around their freshly showered footballers; some sad little part of you wished you could greet Roy that same way. Instead, you plastered on a smile when Jules approached and gave Katie a small peck on the cheek.

He greeted you with a nod. “Are you joining us on the road next weekend?” He wrapped an arm around his wife. “I know this one could use someone to drive to the match with.”

“If my dad can manage to get me a ticket, I’m in,” you joked, knowing you always had a seat waiting for you.

“I’m sure Kent could get you a ticket.” Jules winked at you. “I think he’s still inside. Decent and fully clothed, unfortunately for you.”

You narrowed your eyes at the footballer and his giggling wife. “Should tell my dad to bench you,” you grumbled. With a wave over your shoulder, you said goodbye to the couple and headed to the coaches’ offices. As you passed by the changing room door, a gruff voice called your name.

Roy waved you over to his locker, only looking away from you to glance towards your dad’s office. Apparently not seeing his manager, he smirked at you playfully as he slid his jacket on over his t-shirt. “You see my goal?”

“Oh, no, I must’ve been in the loo,” you deadpanned. “Was it a good one?”

“Ouch, princess.” He let his eyes wander down your figure for a brief moment. “You comin’ out to celebrate with the team?” The hopefulness in his face was almost enough to make you press him up against a wall and kiss him.

Unfortunately, you had to shake your head. “Don’t think that’s the best idea,” you murmured, gesturing towards your dad’s office.

He nodded, letting his shoulders slump a little. “Yeah, no. Makes sense.” He cleared his throat and leaned against his locker, his bravado reappearing. “How about you leave your window open? Maybe I’ll slip out of the celebration a little early.” He leaned close and lowered his growling voice. “Have our own little celebration.”

“We’ll see.” You flashed him a small grin before turning on your heel to leave the changing room. “Have fun, Kent.” You glanced over your shoulder at him with a quirked eyebrow. “But not too much fun.”

Roy’s smile stayed imprinted in your mind as you met up with your family and offered your dad congratulations on the first win of the season. You sat politely through the expensive dinner he insisted on treating you all to as a way to celebrate, doing your best to ignore how badly you wished you were instead in some club up against his star player. You smiled and laughed as your family discussed the match, which really had been a stellar one for the team. Of course, your blush was hard to hide when your mother brought up how surprising and, in her opinion, charming Roy’s goal celebration had been.

 “Don’t know what the hell’s gotten into him lately. Must be a girl,” your dad mumbled as he shoveled a bite of dessert into his mouth. He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Who’s Kent shagging this week?”

Water nearly spurted out of your nose at his question, prompting a curious look from your mother. “Why should I know?” you sputtered, trying to divert yourself with stealing a bit of your brother’s dessert.

Your dad shrugged. “You’re usually up on the gossip with the lads,” he pointed out. “And you two’ve been pretty chummy lately. Come on. What model or actress has he been here, there, and everywhere with these days?”

“We don’t talk about that stuff,” you mumbled, looking down at your fork. “We mostly talk about books and football.”

“Hmm.” Your dad turned to your mum, who was still staring at you. “Doesn’t matter,” he declared with a snicker. “Probably has a new bird on his arm as we speak, right?”

Your mother offered you a tight-lipped smile. “I don’t think we want to spend our dinner speculating about Roy Kent’s love life, do we?” She turned to your brother, who’d been intensely focused on his dessert. “What was your favorite part of the match, love?”

Thanks to your mum’s tactfulness, the rest of dinner was fairly painless. Still, it felt like an eternity before you were free to lock yourself up in your room and wait for a certain burly footballer to sneak in for a clandestine visit.

It was around midnight when you heard your unlocked window creak open. Lying on your tummy, you glanced up from the book you were reading just in time to see Roy stumble into the room; at least he’d finally learned to land on his feet, you noted with a smirk.

“Hey there,” you hummed.

Roy’s eyes widened when saw you on your bed, clad only in a pair of panties and his kit. “Fucking hell,” he groaned as he approached the bed. “What’re you trying to do to me, princess?”

It was kind of nice being the downright smug one for once. “What’s wrong Roy?” you purred, placing your book on your nightstand and giving the footballer your most innocent eyes. “Thought you liked seeing me in your kit.”

He looked almost pained as he sat on your bed and reached out to let his hand wander under your kit to stroke your bare back. “You’re trying to fucking kill me,” he sighed.

You sat up and turned over to face him, devilish smile on your lips. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You’re tempting me to break my rule about keeping my pants on.” He tugged you onto his lap so you were straddling him. He let out a soft grunt when you gave a tiny grind against his quickly growing bulge. “Fuck.”

Roy’s mouth was harsh and hungry against yours as he held you tight against himself. While one hand splayed flat on your back, covering the number six you wore, his other hand snaked up the front of your jersey until it gently groped your breast. Roy moaned quietly into your mouth, starting to squirm beneath you. You tangled your hands in his dark hair, tugging lightly as he began grinding up against you. Your head rolled back as your mouth opened, ready to let out a soft whimper-

KNOCK-KNOCK

You stilled on Roy’s lap, his lips frozen on your jaw. “Yeah?” you called out in a voice that you hoped wasn’t too shaky. When Roy lifted his head to look at you with wide eyes, you immediately brought a hand to cover his mouth.

“You still up, love?” Your dad’s voice was stifled by a yawn. “Kinda late.”

“Just reading,” you answered, shaking your head at Roy frantically. “Can’t sleep.”

Another yawn wafted past the door. “Alright. Don’t stay up too late. Goodnight, I love you, my darling girl.”

Roy’s eyes were full of something almost sympathetic as they searched yours. “Love you too,” you answered, wondering if your dad could hear the nerves in your voice.

The two of you stayed completely still until you heard the distant sound of a door closing with finality. Slowly, you removed your hand from Roy’s mouth and offered him a sheepish shrug.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, stroking the back of his neck gently. You knew he could see the embarrassment on your face.

Roy shook his head and pecked your nose tenderly. “None of that,” he murmured. He leaned you back until you were lying down, then plopped down beside you. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. “I think that portion of the evening is officially over,” he chuckled. A kiss found your temple. After a moment he let out a thoughtful little hum. “Are you coming out of town with us this weekend?”

You sighed. “I want to,” you started. “But it’ll be a bit of a bummer to be out of town together and not be able to be… together.”

He was silent for a moment, his face colored with thought. “You just worry about packing a pretty little dress,” he finally said. “I’ll take care of the rest, alright?” He kissed the top of your head. “Don’t you worry about a thing, princess.”

Even though he piqued your curiosity, some part of you liked the idea that Roy wanted to figure out a way to see you, to spend real time with you away from the risk of being recognized in London. He thought you were worth the effort, you realized. And, once again, you couldn’t help but hope that you might mean something to Roy beyond looking good in his kit.

Especially when he gazed at you with something that looked a lot like total adoration.

“Alright, princess.” He narrowed his eyes at you playfully. “Where’s that fucking story your idiot professor hated?”

You wrinkled your nose and shook your head. “It’s late,” you reminded him. “You don’t want to read that right now.”

He chuckled and let his hand drift down to your bare thigh. “I kind of have to. I need a good distraction,” he said in a low, joking voice. “Or else my pants’ll be on the floor and your parents will definitely hear what you’re up to.”

A quiet groan slipped past your lips at the thought of Roy’s implication. “Fine.” You slipped out of bed and tiptoed over to your desk, rummaging through the clutter there until you found the story in question, with its humiliating red marks all over it. Fighting a scowl at the memory of your abrasive professor, you returned to your bed and handed the pages to Roy. “You’re not allowed to make fun of it,” you warned him.

Roy shook his head at you as he sat up. “Never, princess.”

The two of you settled in for some reading; you grabbed your book from the nightstand and nestled against Roy’s chest, relishing the way he lazily wrapped an arm around you as he began reading. Despite your nerves about Roy reading your work- something you didn’t tend to let most guys do, let alone gorgeous footballers- you couldn’t help but enjoy the domesticity of the situation. His chest was warm and comfortable, and he pressed kisses to the top of your head from time to time. You were pretty sure you’d read the same paragraph of your book seven times, but you couldn’t retain a word of it. Not when you had the delicious smell of Roy’s cologne filling your nose and his heart beating just below your ear.

It felt like an eternity before Roy let out a small hum and handed you the pages.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Well?”

He shook his head as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards. “Fucking hell.” He squeezed you and planted kisses on your face. “My girl is so fucking talented.” With a content grunt, he shifted you onto his lap, your legs straddling him. He held your face between his hands. “You’re fucking amazing, babe.” His brown eyes shone with excitement and pride as he gazed at you. “So fucking amazing.”

Roy’s words were positively dizzying. Between his gushing praise for your writing and the names tumbling from his beautiful mouth- my girl? Babe?- your heart was slamming in your chest. Fuck, you were getting in deeper than you’d imagined you would with Roy Kent. Somewhere along the way, he’d stopped putting up his aloof attitude and had become affectionate and tender; you just worried that you were reading too much into this shift.

But when he pulled you against him for a sweet kiss, all those fears disappeared, at least for the moment.

Taglist:@gee72sstuff@book-of-roses@kissykissymouth@emmy2811 @hart-kinsella @klaine-92@dearvoidgoodnight@misshall14@issieruby@royal-sunflower@kissmekent@itswhateveripromise@slaymybreathaway@darkmagazineblaze@larascorneroftheworld@infinetlyforgotten@caught-the-feels@rae4725@sisinever@cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782@dd122004dd@veryprairieberry@spacecluster@dark-academia-slut @her-fandom-sanctum

[meafortuna]

ASTRO NOTES # 7

Spiritual awakening or just an astrology? 🪬

It's kind of a trend nowadays to get into spirituality, which I can't say is a bad thing, but I'm a logical thinking person and an over-thinker😅 and decide to go a little deeper into this topic. After all, astrology is a science, and that science can explain a lot about things like the dark night of the soul, the death of the ego, or even twin flames. Here are some astrological transits that will make you feel like something extraordinary is happening to you. I hope you enjoy this one. 🫶

• Uranus transiting (conjunction, opposition, square) your natal Moon. You may start to feel like you are thunderstrucked⚡️, something in you have really changed with the blink of an eye. Your emotions may become more unpredictable, your thoughts may start moving in different places and directions. It’s like you are going crazy, but you know you’re not. You will feel just like an alien, like you don’t belong here. 🛸

• Transit Pluto to your natal Sun. Oh, my godness! 🫥 This is one of the biggest transformation you will have in your life, especially if it’s in conjunction with your Sun. The ego death is real, your whole belief system changes and it’s hard, really hard. You will struggle with the urge to make the changes you will need to make, because you will have to lose someone or something you don’t want to lose. This will be your greatest rebirth. 🌅 After this transit, nothing will be the same in you and for you. It’s painful, but it’s probably the most powerful and beautiful process of your entire life.

• Saturn returns, in particular the first one. Here the things can be a little bit smoother, because after all Saturn represents the karma, the lessons we have to learn. 🪐 So if you have been working hard on the things you want and you still doesn’t see any results, wait until your Saturn return, everything it will reward you. And if you haven’t done any work to achieve your goals (here we can talk about health, work, love life and etc, depends on the house your Saturn is sitting) you will have to learn the hard way why does something always go wrong. In these about two and a half years, you will have to learn some lessons about patience or responsibility, in other words - you will have to grow up. 🐛 - 🦋

• Transiting Neptune 🔱 aspecting your Moon. With this transit you can start diving really deep into your subconscious. 🧘‍♀️You may feel the urge to start exploring yourself more, things like astrology, psychology, esotericism will naturally appeal to you. But there’s always a catch… there is a danger of overuse of substances that can lead to addiction. But if you’re smart enough, you will use the 🍄🍃more as a tool and with intent, not just to escape reality or to make yourself feel better.

• On the Twin Flame topic. ♾️ Here we don’t talk about transits, just aspects.

Pluto/Saturn/Neptune in contact with Venus or luminaries in synastry. The intense of the connection between two individuals it will be so strong, powerful and magnetic, like its something really destined to be. Aspects like this can lead to feeling like you have finally met your Twin Flame. 🎎🔥I will quickly explain why. With Pluto you will feel that transformative love you have never met before, we know the relationship between twin flames is super tense and emotional. 💣 Saturn will make you go back to each other, because there are lessons that have to be learned, that gives the on and off dynamic of the couple and the feeling you know that person from before. Neptune will give you that telepathic and outworldly feeling. 💞

I don’t want to kill the magic, but science is science and if you know how to use it, you will go much easier through your spiritual awakening journey.✨⚔️📚

~meafortuna💙

[meowcatsposts]

Warm [Werewolf bf]

⚠︎ warning ⚠︎ : a little angsty at the beginning, yandere behavior from Argos

✎ notes:

idk if this fic makes a lot of sense - if it doesn't, I'm sorry (I needed an outlet for my emotions, esp with this one)

if you're interested, here's the previous part!

Overview: Argos begins to give you more freedom, but it might've not been the best idea. (He also treats you to a warm bath btw)

It’d been a shitty week. Everything had been bubbling and churning and crashing inside you, like litter in the ocean. Litter choked and killed the poor sea life; people choked and killed your emotions. You tried your hardest to hide it from your keen boyfriend and it seemed to work, because he didn’t say anything. 

As twisted as it sounded, Argos stayed silent because he wanted you to be happy. He’d been giving you much more freedom lately–on the sole promise of secrecy–and you (and he) thought you’d absolutely enjoy it. Interacting with people other than him was refreshing–thrilling, even…at first. Your family and friends and acquaintances were oh so glad you were back, and it brought a huge smile on your face. They missed you! 

Argos followed you, however, anywhere you went. Sometimes he was a human, wearing a hoodie with sweatpants. Most times he was a wolf, slinking into alleys and shadows. He was happy to see you happy–he cherished your smile…loved your laugh, after all–but he just couldn’t shake off the fact that they never asked you what happened or where you went. Ever. If they cared for you, he thought, wouldn’t they wonder?

Currently, you were at a lovely gathering and in the midst of venting to a trusted confidant. Curses wouldn’t stop spilling from your mouth and you half thought no one deserved to hear the profanities spewing through your lips, but they nodded along, sitting on a chair and sipping on a drink. You were getting to a peak in your story, then–

“This is really good!” they exclaimed, gazing into their cup. “What did they put in this?”

Oh.

The response was so out of pocket and so completely unrelated to what you were venting about, it sucked all the words right from your mouth. Your mind went blank. 

“I-” you started. 

“You know,” they continued to babble…and the rest faded away.

Quite frankly, you were beyond offended. Despite seeing all red you politely excused yourself and calmly walked away, drink quivering in your hand. You thought you’d nearly break that pretty little glass cup. Stay calm, you urged yourself. Stay calm. The last thing you–or anyone else, for the matter–wanted was another tiring confrontation at a lovely reunion, right?

Argos saw how your lower lip quivered. He saw how your eyes glistened. He saw how hard you gripped your drink. He saw everything, and it took all of his willpower not to rip the door off its hinges with his claws and steal you away. Sharp ears pressed against his head, his black fur melted with the shadows’ dark embrace. He’d get you out. Somehow. 

“Oh? Who’s this?”

Hearing some excited whispers, you glanced over to see what was happening. It’s probably some long-lost person coming to visit, you told yourself, standing uncomfortably in the corner of the room, swirling your empty glass. Nothing interesting, most likely.

Wrong. 

Among the sea of voices you heard his, gravelly and deep. It cut through the air like a sharp knife, and it sent shivers up and down your spine. 

It was Argos, in the flesh. 

What in the world was he doing here? His copper eyes locked with yours and you quickly looked away, fighting the crooked smile that was creeping up your lips–he never failed to find you, did he? When you looked up again he was standing in front of you, large frame engulfing your vision. You nearly let out a yelp but he put a finger up to his lips, silently shushing you. (That simple shirt–the way it stretched tautly over his shoulders and chest, hugging his pale arms tight–looked delicious on him, you thought. As always.)

“What are you–” you started, in a hushed sort of way.

He cut you off by holding onto your hand rather firmly, but not enough to dig into your skin.

“Taking you home,” he replied, rather harshly. 

His voice was low as if he was purposely killing it; it came out in an almost baritone growl. His copper eyes were glued to the door–your ticket out. As you stared at him bewildered, he tilted his head toward the exit as if saying, ‘Let’s go home,’ and all you could do was oblige, half-stunned and half-grateful for his sudden act.

He whispered a soft, “Come,” as he squeezed your hand and tugged you along with him.

Inevitably, people tried to pry and ask questions, but he evaded each query with a charming, rugged smile and swiftly went along his way, you in tow. It seemed to work, because they stood there, too stunned to speak. 

When the two of you were out of prying eyes and ears, Argos shifted. (He had you hold his clothes, though, before he did; he shredded too many already.) He was so big–bigger than a pack mule–yet silent and invisible. (No wonder he’s able to stalk you.) Fur as black as obsidian ran in silky waves along his robust body, thick coat melding perfectly with the night. Paws as big as a dog’s head touched the ground as he gazed at you expectantly.

“You want me to ride on your back?” you asked, quite unsure. 

A muffled hum rumbled in his throat, telling you, “Yes.”

“...Ok.”

The ride home was pleasant. You mindlessly played with Argos’s thick black fur, running your fingers along it, pinching it gently. It was relaxing, hearing the soft crunch of leaves beneath you, burying your face in his warm back. He didn’t mind it when you played with his ears, either, or when you ran your hands along the sides of his fuzzy neck. He was just happy you seemed calmer. Less sad. 

After shifting back, Argos decided to treat you to a small bath. Might as well, he figured, because his clothes were off and you didn’t seem to mind the nudity anymore. The bath wasn’t anything fancy–no petals, no bubbles, no oils–but it was warm, and he was there to take care of you. His deft fingers massaged shampoo into your scalp, and you sighed in relief.

“Are you ok?” he’d ask softly once in a while, washing you off. You just hummed in response, eyes closed and enjoying the sound of water bouncing off the walls. 

He got into the tub after washing up himself, warm water sloshing around as you felt his skin against yours. You leaned into his touch. He pressed gentle kisses on your nape, then along the curve of your neck and shoulder, bringing you closer with his arms.

After a few moments of comfortable silence he mumbled against your shoulder, “What I did was a mistake…” frustration tinging his voice. “I shouldn’t have let you go.”

You knew damn well the reason why, but nonetheless asked softly, “...Why?”

He didn’t say anything, just buried his face in your shoulder further, arms wrapping around your waist tighter. 

They’d pay, he thought to himself.

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: Collaborative Activities

In that moment, Aziraphale knew his destiny. He was destined for a day of tiresome bickering with a devastatingly handsome and soul-crushingly insufferable man. If he walked out now, he could convince the young executive assistant in charge of the phones to give him his. She seemed to like him, maybe had the littlest crush on him. Once he had his phone, he would email his resignation to Gabriel and polish his resume on the plane home to the city. “Fell!” Aziraphale did his best to smile, pushed away thoughts of fleeing his godforsaken job for good. A grown man, he was a grown man who could make it through one long weekend of asinine activities. While on a corporate retreat, estranged co-workers Aziraphale and Crowley get teamed up together. They encounter something on their hike, something that brings a buried desire to the surface and transforms it into an unquenchable lust.

Length: 12,776 words

AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Best for: After Dark, Human AU, Mystery

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by scullyphile

*Minor Spoilers* It's not often that I can write a rec post immediately after reading a fic, but I'm able to now, and more than that, I'm BUZZING to talk about this fic!! This was so good!!

In this human AU, Crowley and Aziraphale are coworkers at an advertising firm with a complicated past. Right off the bat, it's a setting that works perfectly. Aziraphale works on an upper level and Crowley on one of the lower ones, so it parallels perfectly to the canon of Heaven and Hell being different levels of the same office building. Aziraphale hates Crowley for reasons you'll find out, and when he is paired up with him for a company-mandated hike, well, he's not happy. I loved their chemistry, the banter, the stupid puns. Really, everything in the first half of the story kept me super engaged and fulfilled even if it had ended there.

But then we get to the next half of the story. Here is where it went into overdrive for me. It's a much more casual fandom for me, but I've been an X-Files fan since childhood. Usually, the plots of episodes are really hazy for me until I'm actually rewatching them. So, it took me a while to make the connection on the "loosely based on an X-Files episode" tag. Ohhhh, what a genius inspiration!!! This is a sex pollen fic, so expect some uncontrollable sexual urges. But more than that, expect things to not be as they appear. I simply cannot say more, you need to find out for yourself how this plays out.

This is so, so, so much fun. I loved this a lot. My only complaint is that it's not a million words long and it ended. Please, more X-Files inspirations/crossovers. Oh my god, I didn't realize how much I needed that. After dark read that I hope you guys also enjoy!

Read it here, fic by scullyphile

[naminethewriter]

Thank You for Finding Me

Chapter Five: Meeting the Students

Masterpost | First | Previous | Next | Ao3

@intrulogicalweek

Story Summary: Logan didn’t date or really had any friends but when this strange guy asks him out while complimenting his posterior, he can’t help but be intrigued.

Content Warnings: Panic Attack

~~*~~

Logan didn’t know much about what goes on at Remus’ school. Yes, his boyfriend would rant at him about how annoying colleagues were or how unfair regulations could be, but Remus almost never talked about his students. At least not individually. He would say something along the lines of ‘my class really enjoyed the experiment we did today’ but never ‘this student said this to me’. Logan honestly didn’t think he could name even one of Remus’ students.

And that was fully intentional.

Remus took the privacy of the kids very seriously and urged them to do the same, especially online, so if he had the need to get something related to his student off of his chest, he never went into specifics.

Which was why Logan was very much surprised when Remus came into the library with two teenagers in tow.

“Hey Lolo!” he greeted quietly when he got to the counter. “I need you to whip up library cards for these two.” He motioned behind him and Logan took a moment to properly look at them.

One of them was female presenting, her red-blonde hair tied into a ponytail. She wore a leather jacket over a dark green shirt with a print Logan couldn’t make out. Her jeans had several holes and stains. She was looking anywhere but at Logan, a scowl on her face and her arms crossed over her chest.

The other was quite androgynous with shaggy, shoulder-length black hair. Their clothing style was similar to that of the girl, all dark colors. A black vest over a grey shirt, black, knee-length skirt, leggings and combat boots. Unlike their friend, they looked more uncomfortable than annoyed.

“This is Lilith, she/they, and Elliot, they/them, from my AP chemistry class. And this is Logan, he/him, my partner.”

“This is stupid, Mr. Prince,” Lilith groaned.

“Shouldn’t’ve made the bet then. You played, you lost, now you gotta pay.”

“You made a bet with your students?” Logan asked. He tried to keep his tone neutral but couldn’t hide his disapproval entirely.

“They initiated!” Remus defended. “And I said no several times, but they wore me down with the chicken noises.” Logan sighed and rubbed his forehead but didn’t comment further. “And it’s not like I’m asking anything unreasonable from them. Just get a library card and borrow one book. I’m not even going to check if they’re going to read it!”

“You already dragged us here, isn’t that enough?” Lilith whined, but Elliot elbowed her lightly in the side.

“Just do it. A bit of reading isn’t the worst.”

“Ugh, fine!”

Logan walked with them through the registration process and started the card printer.

“This is going to take a few minutes. How about you two go and find a book to fulfill the other half of your bargain.”

Lilith looked at him funny but didn’t say anything and Remus waved Virgil over, who had just come back from his break.

“Hey Virge! You seem like you might have the same kind of taste as these two, mind giving them some book recommendations?” Remus asked with a grin. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“You just want to be alone with Logan.”

“Mayyyyybeeee.”

“Fine.” Virgil walked around the desk and waved the two teens to follow him. Lilith looked annoyed again, but Elliot just pulled them along.

Logan could just hear Lilith ask her classmate, “Who uses the word ‘bargain’ these days?” before the three of them disappeared between the shelves.

“Thanks for the help, Lolo. It means a lot.”

“I am simply doing my job. But why do this, meus? You usually don’t involve yourself into their lives like this.” Logan watched Remus’ expression wander from guilt to worry to exhaustion.

“I’m just worried. Neither of them has it easy at home, so I thought showing them that this is a place that will welcome them without prejudice, they might use it as a little retreat. And they’re both so smart, they could do so much, but they’re being put down again and again. I just wanted to offer them a safe space to learn because education is what will get them out of there.”

Logan put a hand on Remus’ arms with which he was propping himself against the counter.

“You did a good thing. Everything you can do as their teacher.”

Remus sagged and sighed.

“Thanks. I’m still worried.”

“And that’s good. That will let them know you’re safe to turn to when they need someone.”

“I hope so. Thanks, Lolo. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

“I’m glad I could be of help.”

~~*~~

Later that evening, Logan fondly looked at the two pictures Remus had sent him. The first was of him with his two students, the books they chose and their library cards. The second was Remus leaning against Logan’s back and grinning over his shoulder with the caption: ‘Bothering my partner at work :P.’ Remus asked if he could upload the second one to Instagram and Logan agreed. His boss wouldn’t mind.

Logan had his own Instagram after Remus talked him into it though he rarely used it. Mostly he posted a few book recommendations here and there and a few pictures of Remus and him and occasionally Virgil. It was a nice way to organize mementos.

In a few weeks, Remus would move into Logan’s house with him. It was a bit of a rushed venture since Remus hadn’t planned to move out of his flat, but his two roommates had gotten engaged and while they enjoyed Remus’ company, they asked to have the space for themselves. Remus had told Logan that he would look for his own place so as to not overstep his boundaries, but Logan asked him to move in instead. Maybe they were moving a bit fast, but Logan’s been more and more aware of how empty his house was and he felt so much better whenever Remus came over.

He was startled out of his thoughts when the landline rang. That was unusual, but Logan didn’t think much of it and went to answer.

“Sanders residence.”

“Hello Logan. I hope you’ve been well.”

Logan froze and the receiver almost slipped out of his hand.

“Father.”

There was a pause then a dry chuckle crackled through the line.

“I’m a bit surprised you remember my voice so well.”

“I am too.” Logan hadn’t spoken to his father since he’d been seventeen and the man had moved to the other side of the world on some business venture. Still, his cold voice was branded into Logan’s brain. “Why are you calling?” he asked, the shake of his voice probably obvious.

“I… wanted to call for a long time actually. When you graduated. When your grandfather died. When I heard you got the job you wanted. But I held myself back. I thought you wouldn’t want to hear from me, not after all your mother and I put you through.”

Logan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His knees were getting weak and instead of fighting to remain standing, he let himself sink down to the floor. His father continued after a few moments of silence.

“I’m sorry, Logan. I was convinced that success was everything that mattered in life. That if we raised you on logic alone that you could be the best a human could ever be. I was wrong. Very wrong. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand,” Logan whispered, unable to find his full voice. “Why now?”

“I saw the pictures. The one with you and that man. Your boyfriend.”

He stopped breathing. He had no idea what to expect. Logan hadn’t thought about relationships while he had been with his parents and only figured out that he was gay shortly before his grandfather passed. He hadn’t told him. The only person he had ever come out to was Virgil. He didn’t even know what his parents thought of queer people.

“You look so happy in those photos. I forgot how long it’s been since I saw you smile. Forgot that I’d been the one to make that smile go away. I showed them to your mother. She said that it was right to give you to my father. We were never supposed to be parents. I’m so sorry we made you go through that, Logan.”

“I—I don’t know— I can’t…”

“You don’t need to say anything. You don’t need to forgive me or your mother. If you never wanted to talk to either of us again, I wouldn’t blame you. If you’d hung up on me, I would have accepted that too. This is all our fault. You were a good child, Logan. And we held you to an impossible standard. I hope you can find your happiness now. I truly do.”

Tears were streaming down Logan’s face. No words would pass over his lips, no matter how hard he tried.

After a solid minute of silence, his father spoke again.

“I’m going to hang up now. I’m sure this must be overwhelming for you. If you ever want to talk, call me back. And if not—” His voice broke, and Logan’s breath stuttered. “—if not then I will accept that and not bother you again. Goodbye, son. I’m sorry.”

The line was cut.

The phone landed heavily on the carpeted floor.

Logan’s vision was obstructed by tears, and he could hardly breathe.

Had that really just happened?

What was he supposed to do now? He wasn’t equipped for this!

Remus.

He needed Remus.

The sudden need to talk to his boyfriend brought him back to his feet and he stumbled back to the sofa where he had left his phone, dialing Remus’ number with shaking hands.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Lolo! What gives me the honor?” Remus’ cheerful and carefree tone brought another sob out of Logan and before he could say something, Remus reacted. “What happened? Where are you? Are you hurt?”

“Home. I—” Logan gasped for air between his sobs. “Come, please?”

“I’ll be right there. Should I stay on the line?”

“Please!” It was all Logan could bring himself to say, but it was all Remus needed.

“Of course. I love you. I’ll stay on.”

Logan couldn’t get another word out. He simply listened to the sounds of Remus getting ready and the continued reassurances he was whispering into the phone.

Soon Remus would be there. And then he could figure out what to do.

[igotanidea]

Blip: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

Summary: Matt disappeared during the blip, leaving Y/N alone. Being broken and desperate at first, soon enough the girl turned into her own kind of villain, going by name Darkness. And then, miraculously someone came back from the quantum realm with the possibility to turn this shitty situation around.

The reader is (was) a part of Avengers, previously called the Shadow with powers to control... well, the shadows. Literally and figuratively (like the shadows in people's mind and/or past). Imagine something like Darkling from the Shadow nad Bone. A snippet of her story is here(prologue) and here (chapter 1). I need some action on those to continue the story .

A/N: this story is for my favorite @somest1 - THANK YOU! Hope your back is better now, girl :) And hope you'll enjoy.

3 years ago

I woke up screaming my lungs out, springing from the bed, shaking like in fever and with tears in eyes.

I just had the worst nightmare ever.

Only it was not a nightmare, but a brutal reality.

Thanos gathered all the infinity stones and erased half of the population of the Earth. I was lucky I was spared. Soooo damn lucky. I get to live my life and move on a day to day basis.

Yeah…. I was so fucking lucky.

Matt wasn’t.

He just turned into dust right in front of my eyes and there was nothing I could have done. One second he was standing next to me and the other was just gone. Like he never existed.

And I was reliving this scene in my head every night. Screaming, sweating, never getting enough sleep to actually rest. My mind was spinning and I found myself losing any motivation to live. Foggy and Karen blipped as well so I was completely alone.

Ok, maybe that was a bit of exaggeration. After all, I had my avengers friends.

Steve was running some therapy group and after everything that happened, one day out of the blue, he just showed up at my door, wanting to check if I was alright.

I was not. Obviously.

I opened the door, dressed in Matt’s favorite old hoodie, which was way too big for me since I lost a lot of weight due to the stress with puffy eyes and nose and cheeks red from extensive crying. I was pathetic.

“Y/N….” Steve’s voice broke the moment he laid eyes on me

“I…. I’m sorry, Steve.”

“Why are you sorry?” he immediately pulled me into the bear hug. He was not Matt, but his strong arms gave me a little bit of comfort “I should be the one apologizing. I should have come to you earlier”

“No.” I shook my head abruptly, pulling myself closer to him “you have enough on your head. I would just be…..”

“Don’t say it.”

“…. a burden.”

“I told you not to say it.” He muttered “Hey, look at me” involuntarily I raised my head to look him in the eyes “you’re not alone, ok? Not anymore. I’m taking you with me.”

“Where?”

“To a safe place. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.”

“Who’s we?” I frowned

“You’ll see” he smiled and urged me to gather the most important things.

2 years ago

In my defense, I tried to learn lessons from Steve’s group meetings. I really did. But soon sitting on my ass, doing nothing but finding joy in little things got me fed up. I transformed from the little, scared and pathetic girl into a violent, vindictive woman. I bet it was those shadows in me that I tried to suppress for way to long. So after a couple of months I decided to let them out. From what I heard, Clint was raging his personal vendetta (since he lost all of his family as well) and I was considering joining him.

One day, I just found him  on the street in some Japanese city, running around in some new suit, using blades and knifes instead of his characteristic bow and arrows. There were dead bodies and blood all over him and his face was twisted in both anger and pain.

“So, you are the Ronin? I heard about you.” I whispered standing behind his back, careful not to stamp on any of the people he killed

“I give you ten seconds to explain exactly who you are and why are you here.” He hissed

“Clint.”

“Y/N?” he turned around facing me “You’re alive?”

“I don’t know if that’s the right word to describe it.” I whispered when he hugged me briefly “I heard, what happened to you. I am so, so sorry Clint.”

“If you came here to ask me to stop……”

“No.”

“No? So, it wasn’t Cap or Nat with their big ideals and …..?”

“No. I don’t share their approach anymore.”

“Anymore. So you did before? What changed?”

“The anger. The pain. The fear” I shrugged “The sense of unfairness.”

“You lost him.” He stated simply. Clint never met Matt, but he heard me talk about him back in the Shield and Avengers days. We were close enough to let him in on that secret.

I just nodded, not able to say a word.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I know. I know you know how it feels.”

“You came a long way here, didn’t you? Let me take you to my place. It’s not much, but you can spend the night there.”

“Thanks. I… I actually came to ask for advice.”

“Ask for advice?” he laughed sarcastically “Me? Not a really good role model, am I?” he motioned towards the bloody stains on the streets.

“Not like this.” I shook my head “I need to know how do you remember. How do you not let those little memories of people you loved slip away.” I looked straight into his face, now shocked and so vulnerable “I’m starting to forget Clint. And I don’t want that.”

“Let’s go. I’ll tell you all you want, just not here.”

1 year ago

I had some lessons from Cap and some from Clint, but never really found my place with them. So I was riding solo like a villain now. I learned how to control my shadows like never before, maybe it was because they were always a part of the dark side of me which I now embraced fully. When I was pretending to be good, acting good, they were so much harder to contain. When I dropped the act and let the darkness in, they became an extension of my own being. I wasn’t just the Shadow anymore. I was going by The Darkness now.  Not a killer, not a hero, but someone to be afraid of. I get back to Hell’s kitchen becoming the fright of every criminal in the city. Beating them up, leaving all of them defenseless, controlling all the transfers and dirty transactions. Never killing them though. I was not like Clint and murdering them would not bring me any satisfaction, that one I was sure of. Instead, my point was to make them afraid. Constantly. Scared that if they make one false move the Darkness would come straight at them. I wanted them to have sleepless nights, full of nightmares just like I did before. I wanted them shitting their pants just at the mere mention of my name. I wanted them looking back in fear I was hiding in the darkness where they could not see me. Truth be told, some of those cowards died because of a heart attacks caused by constant terror.

I got exactly what I wanted.

I got Hell’s kitchen in the palm of my hand. Cleaning it from the scumbags just like Matt always tried to. Just like he wanted to. But sometimes, just sometimes, I was wondering if he would recognize me under all those dirty things I did. Would he want to be with a villain? Or would that be too much for my catholic boyfriend and his work ethics?

Flashback

“Do you think we can ever make this city safe?” I was looking through the window onto the empty, silent street. Of course all the drama was happening underground. “Like, can we actually clear it from all the crime, criminals, pain and fear?”

“No. No, I don’t think so. Sad thing about it is that crime is like a hydra. You cut one head of it and two new grow back.” He hugged me from behind, his chest to my back, hands on my waist, chin on my arm.

“Then why are you still fighting? Isn’t it futile? And it sounds a bit hypocritical. I mean, you beat the shit out of the villains, risking your own health. And mine. And you have no hope it will get better?”

“I never said that” he spun me around so now I was facing him in the dark. I was facing Daredevil, in his suit, arguably the most dangerous person in Hell’s kitchen explaining his action “don’t try to outsmart a lawyer” he smirked and I did the same “I said we cannot eradicate crime. But we can fight for the good people. We can make this city better, safer. By doing good. Nothing will ever be perfect. No one….” He pulled me closer “wait, no, there’s one  person who is perfect with her flaws, imperfections and insecurities. She’s the one who’s always positive in her quiet way, doing good and creating a safe space.”

“She?” I scoffed ”Matt, are you cheating on me?”

“You little silly kitten” he brushed his lips on my cheek and I closed my eyes. It’s been a while since we have an intimate moment like this “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mattie” I answered before he kissed me deeply conveying all his feelings for me.

End of flashback

So, would he love me the way I was now? Not so optimistic? Not creating safe space but running on terror and fright? Would he…..?

I quickly discarded those thoughts, though. He was gone. There was no point in wondering “what if”, it was bad for the mental health. I had to play with the cars I was given. And those weren’t exactly the good ones.  

Now

I was called by Steve to the so-called headquarters. After all this time, he still believed there were a team to have such. Guess, he did not change that much.

“We need you.” he said over the phone

“Who’s we?” I joked, using the same phrase as 3 years ago when he found me in my apartment broken and crying the loneliness and pain away.

“You’ll see.” He smiled catching the reference at once.

“No, it won’t work this time, Steve. I’m not the same girl who buys into everything you say.”

“So, I’ve heard. You upgraded, right? I’m just not sure if you did it in the right direction.”

“ Are you disappointed now, Cap?” I smirked. I acted like I did not care, but truth be told, it pained me. I did what I did and there was no regret there, but hearing harsh words from him…..

“No. I’m not. You choose your own path, can’t blame you for that, even though it could have been a different one. But you’re still a part of the team. We have a chance to make things right, the right way. Will you come help?”

“Of course I will.” I muttered “and…. Steve?”

“Yes?”

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry.” Yeah, I lied. There was a bit of regret in me

“I know.”

***

“Scott? Holy shit, is that you?” I opened my eyes wide noticing the ant-man himself standing in the room, surrounded by the other members of the former Avengers .

“Hey there kiddo, long time no see.” He smiled brightly

“Yeah, um…. I guess. How are the ants? And how are you still…..?”

“Oh it’s a long story and ….”

“You’re late.” Clint walked right behind me patting my back making me jump as he smirked “we won’t be telling you this story for the second time.”

“Nice to see you too Clint. How’s Ronin doing?”

“Y/N.” Natasha came out of the room “it’s so good to see you again.”

“Hey, Nat. New haircut?”

“I didn’t really have much to do for the last couple years so can you blame a girl?”

“Not really. Is there someone else coming back from the grave? And why the fuck am I the last one to be called?”

“Um, cause you’re unstable kid. You’re the threat to this entire operation.”

“Well, talk about coming back from the dead. Hello, Stark.”

“Y/N.”

“Are you….um, you look pale.” Yeah, I know, not very intelligent response

“I spend some time in space, so that’s the effect on me.”

“Y/N!” before I realized what was happening I was being crashed in the embrace of Hulk. Bruce. Bruce who was now Hulk. Apparently he figured a way to make them both work together.

“You’re….. you’re crushing me Bruce” I panted and he let go “but nonetheless it’s good to see you.”

“Same kid. Now, since we have to move on pretty quick, how much do you know about the quantum physics?”

“Only as much as you taught me. Why?”

“That would be enough. Now listen….”

“How Is it that I’m the only one who doesn’t have a clue what is going on here?” some man, looking hangover, with dark glasses, long hair and matter beard burped from the corner

“Thor?” That was quite a surprise “what happened to you?!”

‘Lost the girl, lost the Kingdom, lost his brother. Blah, blah, blah, slippery slope. We’ve all been through it. Now can we stop this pity party and move on?” thankfully Rocket was quick to interfere before Thor really started the pity party. Not that I blamed him, he’s been through a lot.

Long story short, Scott found out that if we travel in time and space we can gather infinity stones and actually defeat Thanos. For good. So we studied the timelines, decided the best times to go back to, divided ourselves in teams and …. went back.

“See you in a minute” Nat smiled at us before we all disappeared.

 I was travelling with Tony, Steve , Scott and Hulk. Despite some obstacles on the way (it can never be easy, right) we succeeded and came to present safe and sound. I frantically turned around checking if everyone were safe.

“Where’s Nat?” Clint managed to say next to me, not seeing our redhead friend.

Oh, shit.

Yes, we’ve been thought another loss. But we fought on. Having all the stones we get all the lost souls back. Loosing Tony on the way. He died a hero. After I paid my respect and said goodbye to everyone I returned to the Hell’s Kitchen. Hoping Matt would be back as well. Probably confused, not knowing what happened. Scott warned me that for those who blipped the time stopped so it would be like they never left.

“MATT?!” I yelled the second I opened the door to his apartment “MATT!? Are you there?”

“Y/N?” he emerged from the bathroom, confused expression on his face “Baby, what happened?”

“MATT!” I jumped right at him, making him grab my tights as I pulled him closer than possible. He really was back.

“Y/n? Not that I’m complaining, but……” he held me close and my heart was just racing hundred miles an hour.

“I missed you.” I muttered cupping his cheek lovingly

“Missed me? Baby, I’ve been in the bathroom for barely five minutes. “ he raised an eyebrow suspiciously “what are you up to?”

“Oh, right. I should probably explain this to you.”

“Explain what?”

“Nothing. Never mind. Later. Can you just kiss me? Please?”

“I don’t understand the rush but how can I refuse?” he leaned down, put a single strand of hair behind my ear, traced his fingers over my jaw (making me impatient with all those gestures) and finally pressed his lips onto mine. I melted into him instantly. I knew I missed him, but I never realized the scope of it. His touch and warmth, and the security I felt in his arms. His soft hair and his slight stubble. God! I locked my hands on his neck pulling him closer, not wanting him to stop.

“Someone’s desperate.” he smirked with playful glint in his eyes as his lips moved to my neck

“I….”

“Don’t deny. I can feel your heart racing.”

“I wasn’t going to deny.” I groaned when he found that soft spot.

“Do you need something more from me, baby? You just gotta ask, you know.”

Surprisingly even to myself I didn’t want more. I just needed to be in his arms, cuddling, holding him and letting him hold me, craving to just feel him next to me, not in the physical sense. And he did that, as we laid in bed in each other embrace, enjoying this moment as I explained to him everything that happened.

“Three years?” he asked, terrified “I’ve been gone for three years?”

“Yes.”

“And…. And you’ve been alone all this time?” his grip on my waist suddenly became stronger, one of his hand sneaking up my back pulling me closer to his chest.

“I was so lonely, Mattie, so freaking lonely.”

“Oh, my love.” He kissed my temple and then top of my head and then my cheek and nose, ultimately brushing his lips against mine “you poor little thing. I am so sorry.”

“You said as if it was your fault. You did not have anything to say in the matter. Might have as well been the other way round. It could have been me who disappeared.”

“I would go crazy without you.” he muttered, cupping my cheek and brushing his thumb over it, making me instantly lean into the touch “absolutely crazy. I would turn into Frank Castle with his personal vendetta.”

“Or like Clint Barton.”

“The guy you used to work with? Hawkeye?” he was fairly familiar with my Shield friends “what does he have to do with it?”

“Nothing. It’s in the past now. Can you kiss me again.”

“Stop asking. I’ve got three years to make up for, right? So trust me, you’re not leaving this apartment, this bed specifically, any time soon.”

“Mattie!” I giggled when he switched our positions so instead of my head on his chest I was now flat on my back, his toned body hovering over me.

“I will make up for all the lost time” he murmured closing the gap between us, the kissed quickly turning more and more heated, our hands wandering everywhere and soon we were both shirtless. “So… what do I do with you now…..?” he whispered against my collarbone.

Before I could answer there was a rather loud and frantic knock on the door.

“Who the hell….?” Matt hissed trying best to ignore the noises and focus on me.

“Matt? Y/N? Are you  in there? What happened in this damn city?”

“Foggy!” I wriggled out of Matt’s arms, to which action he groaned and rushed to the door. “Foggy!”  hugged my friend tightly “So good to see you. Is Karen all right? Have you seen her?”

“She’s on the way.” Foggy explained “but before she get here I suggest you put on some shirt. I;m not even asking what did I interrupt.”

“You always had bad timing” Matt hissed showing at the door and passing me his T-shirt.

“Well my bad timing saved your ass from trouble a couple times, so I’m not sorry. But now, can you explain to me what is “the blip”?

***

3 weeks later

“Y/N?” it was after hours and Matt was getting ready for his night patrol. This time I was joining him since we agreed my skills were far too good to go to waste. I guess one good thing coming from the blip was that I was finally acknowledged by my boyfriend.

“Yes, Mattie?”

“There are some rumors on the street. And since you’ve been here the last couple years maybe you could explain something to me.”

“Sure, honey. What did you hear?”

“Who is Darkness?” Oh shit. I was up for a lot of explaining.

@pinksirensong

[grey-wardens]

favorite fics written in 2024

one of the highlights of this year has been diving into writing with bg3 fic! i thought i'd make a post about some of the fics i particularly enjoyed writing this year.

blood-dimmed tide - default dark urge/wyll, mature

this one was my most experimental piece by far! half of it is written in second person and it also ends on a very ambiguous note... it's the fic here i can say is the most tailored to my specific tastes, ha. i really enjoyed taking inspiration from the narrator's lines for dark urge when writing the parts focused on him.

sea, swallow me - minthara/karlach, explicit

this fic was my first time writing either of these characters and minthara's one of those characters whose voice i can just hear very vividly in my head. i enjoy writing her a lot, and i need to do it more. this fic is pretty damn horny lol but there has also always been a bittersweetness to the way i see this ship, and this is really a dynamic i'd like to explore more in 2025...

the sweetness of surrender and either way, you got lucky - astarion/wyll, explicit

i can never get enough of the monster/monster hunter dynamic with wyllstarion and i really enjoyed writing both of these pieces. the former in particular is very specific to my personal likes, lol. i'd also love to write more of that in the future!

start me up - astarion/karlach/wyll, explicit

these three have my entire heart, and i always enjoy the post-game space of the three of them in avernus. with this fic (although it's entirely from karlach's pov), i tried to give each of them equal space in the narrative - it was a challenge, but a fun one.

and a honorable mention goes to LOST, which is currently still being posted and edited, lol. it's the longest thing i've ever written in my life and also the most ambitious plot-wise. i've already identified many things i could have done better, but i think it's still a step forward for me as a writer and i do really enjoy the canon divergence bits!

[alexanderlightweight]

As a kid I read this really creepy fantasy book that had a subplot of traitors to the citadel would disappear and people were told 'they repented their ways and now serve the greater good of the citadel'. Later on you find out they were 'serving' in death after being sacrificed to power the citadel's magic barrier. It was super creepy at the time but now makes me wonder about Alec adapting old traditions and sacrificing circle members to the Angelic core to rebuild NY's protections.

a;kjrfkaerfb this turned into a lot of malec but Alec has plans okay! thank you for this prompt, i'm awake enough that I can tell you how much fun I had figuring out where to go with this. this was, hahaha i love stuff like this. i hope you enjoy!

lumine

-

Alec stares at the warlock, transfixed by the sight of his golden eyes and mesmerized by the ripples of powerful magic flickering just under his skin. Not a hair is out of place, but bodies lay dead at his feet, and it is so very different from Alec's own form, what with his blood-slick hands and clothes that are more sanguine than leather.

"Well now, you’re one I certainly don't know." The warlock practically purrs, and Alec tries not to pay too much attention to the soft lines of kohl that simply add to the other man's appeal.

"Alec," he murmurs and for all that he’s just killed half a dozen men, his own name stumbles from his mouth as though his tongue is numb and unwieldy.

"I'm Magnus.” So, saying, Magnus gives a disdainful look to the body at their feet and with a snap of his fingers, they’re lit with blue flames. An unruly spark springs up and a neatly laced and polished boot snuffs it out, "now then. I'm sure I have someone I can call to finish cleanup duty, care to join me for a celebratory drink? After all, it seems we both had a successful hunt. “

Alec eyes him warily, heartbeat tripping as Magnus unknowingly blows on an ember Alec thought long extinguished.

"A drink sounds fun." Comes blurting out of his mouth and he’s grateful for the dark and the way it hides the flush he can feel burning hotly on his cheeks and the back of his neck.

"May I?" Magnus steps forward, fingers lit with blue though he pauses before actually touching Alec's elbow. Alec stares, unsure of the last time someone actually asked for permission before touching him. Wondering when the last time someone touched him in a way that he didn’t need to defend against was. "Unless you prefer l'oduer du sang." Magnus teased and his golden eyes are gentle in a way that has never been directed at Alec before.

Alec swallows harshly and shakes his head, earning himself a wry smirk and then he is being engulfed, burned without pain and when it's over he feels scrubbed clean and refreshed. He rubs his fingers over his jaw and startles, surprised to find thick stubble instead of dried blood.

Suddenly, he can’t remember the last time he stopped to look in a mirror or take care of himself and while he doesn’t mind the beard, the proof of his distraction is troubling.

"Thank you." He manages to say, a bit late but he can’t help how dazed the display of Magnus and his magic makes him.

"Oh I assure you, I benefit far more than you.”

He’s given a deliberate once over that should leave him bristling but instead a hoarse chuckle escapes his throat. Magnus holds up his hand and with an elegant dance of his fingers, the door to the clubs is open and he gestures for Alec to go first.

And he does.

Alec turns his back to Magnus, his weapon glamoured and his stance relaxed and for the first time in a long time, the urge to kill wanes just a bit.

-

Alec wakes with his heart thrumming in his chest. He’s alert, mind awake before his eyes open and he keeps his breath low and even. Quickly, he tries to categorize where he is and how he’d been captured, taking note of how he is bare, naked except for a sheet around his waist and-

Alec freezes.

There is something, no someone solid and warm behind him. Equally naked from the feel and they have an arm curled tightly around Alec’s waist, hot and heavy and tightening around him.

“If you’re going to panic, do it without reaching for your weapons,” rasps a newly familiar voice.

Magnus, his mind supplies and he let himself go loose, relaxing into the touch with relief. If Magnus is surprised, he doesn’t say anything, just gives a pleased hum behind him. Lips press against his shoulder and he shudders when teeth nipped at his skin, worrying at a mark he dimly remembers Magnus leaving the night before.

“What time is it?”

“Do you have somewhere to be?”

Alec racks his mind for any reason, anything that desperately needs his attention and finds that he could think of nothing.

“Not at all.”

He can feel the curve of Magnus’ lips as he smiles against Alec’s neck and he shivers at how good it feels, to be the cause of someone’s joy.

—

Magnus blinks, taking in Alexander as he is now. The night before he took to bed a gorgeous, but rough-hewn shadowhunter while they were both still high from the thrill of a successful hunt. Magnus’ own thighs are raw from Alexander’s stubble, the way his shadowhunter had only wanted to worship Magnus’ cock with his mouth and the way he’d nuzzled Magnus’ skin when he needed to catch his breath.

He looks softer now, sweeter in the dawn with his luminous hazel eyes catching the golden sunlight. Alexander seems enchanted and he reaches out, fingers brushing over Magnus’ jaw with an aching tenderness that belies the brutality Magnus knows he’s capable of.

“It’s only dawn—” Magnus reminds him, “good shadowhunters are still sleeping.”

“Maybe I’m not a very good shadowhunter,” he’s told in return, a teasing hint to Alexander’s voice but there’s something hesitant and shy there.

“Oh? I rather disagree. I think you were very good for me last night.”

Alexander hesitates, something soft and pleased in his manner and then he shrugs. “I was supposed to bring the bodies back to the Institute, not dispose of them like they were.”

Magnus chuckles and croons, letting his fingers rest possessively over the imprint of his hand on Alexander’s hip.

“But then we wouldn’t have had time to have drinks,” Magnus reminds him. “Surely you’re not saying you’d rather have gone back then come home with me.”

“No!” Alexander says, quickly like he’s truly worried that Magnus thinks he’d rather haul bodies than be fucked unconscious. “No, I just—” he shrugs, “I’ll need to patrol again soon. My timeline is off now.”

“Such tyrants, the Lightwood must be.” Magnus clucks his tongue and rolls so that Alexander is on top of him, all delicious weight and bruises and runes begging for Magnus’ mouth. “However, they can’t scold you if they can’t find you.”

And Magnus kisses his shadowhunter, wanting to stake a claim, because this won’t be the last time he has him.

Magnus won’t settle for anything else.

— Alec sighs as he finally, finally leaves Magnus’ lair and he settles for a moment against the brick wall of the alley. He’s exhausted in a way he’d never felt before and just knows he’s going to crave. Magnus both satiated a need he didn’t know he had and awoke something in him, something Alec doesn’t have the time for.

Something Alec won’t be able to ignore.

However he has more pressing matters and it takes all afternoon and the better part of the evening before Ale finally manages to draw out the two Circle members who evaded him the night before.

He doesn’t kill them this time, he usually does but he’s running low on time and resources and it looks like he’s going to have to share with Magnus now as well.

The tunnels he takes open for his touch and his grace-imbued stele alone. The wall slides open, an opening forming and Alec drags in the two bodies and strips them, taking away any inorganic material to get rid of.

Then, he very carefully opens the hatch to the core and drops each, still breathing body into it.

“I’ll have more soon—” Alec promises the core and, in a display that the clave would shriek with terror if they ever saw, lets his fingers reach out and cup a portion of light. It purrs, nearly shuddering against him and he can feel it’s ravenous, gnawing hunger. “Soon,” he says again, pulling his fingers free and finally letting himself relax.

Alec ignores the pile of smoldering clothes and the weapons left on the ground, he’ll deal with them later, after he’s rested.

It’s with a delicious, aching limp that Alec makes it to his room and he enters the bathroom, stripping so he can stare at himself in the mirror.

Alec doesn’t recognize himself, or his own body and he showers and shaves before he tries again.

It’s easier this time, to recognize himself, but it’s still odd to see the marks on his body and know they were put there in pleasured fervor, and not from an attack or practice.

“Magnus—” he murmurs and he presses down on a bitemark, the scab reopened and bleeding sluggishly from the shower.

Perhaps, he has something new to look forward to.

[smallnico]

13 and 15!!

13. Orin has her faithful group of changelings. Did your Durge have a similar 'personal guard' or task force at their back and call?

[answered here!]

15. Bhaal handcrafted Durge. Do they enjoy and worship their appearance, or did they have a rebellious phase, trying their best to change their Lord Father's grand design?

esper's actual terror of seeing their own face and meeting their own gaze in the mirror didn't really set in until after they were tadpoled, but they've never been able to stomach their own appearance. to them it feels like looking directly at the sun, if the sun gave you burning rage and hatred instead of retinal damage -- since they can't really turn off their passive psychic bard magic scan, they can't focus on themself without getting blasted with bhaal's divine presence in their body.

moreover, they grew up half-drow in the underdark. even though they're not a 'real' half-drow as such, esper still grew up with a looootttt of baggage pertaining to the hatred and disdain they received for just their appearance. since they're paler than the average drow, a lot more human-looking, on the tall side (for a drow), etc., not even touching on the fact that the matron of house auvy'rae raised them as a girl instead of as a boy for political convenience When Esper Is Neither, they have a bit of classic body dysmorphia that did not go away when they started living among humans. didn't help that the humans were Also racist.

esper has lots of problems with self-grooming for reasons that have always been unclear to them -- it's partially because they can't stand to look at themself, but it's compounded by the fact that they don't think it's worth cleaning up much if they're just going to get all bloody again. they used to have really long hair as a child, but they had someone else to take care of it for them, and after they left the underdark it quickly got matted and needed to be cut off.

the one thing they've never been particularly self-conscious about is their scars. the oldest of them (the burn) they got from surviving the first of their toddlerhood assassination attempts. esper went back and forth on thinking of it as a mark of survivorship, and then eventually, when they joined the temple of bhaal, a mark of utmost divine favour and their mission. but they've accumulated a lot of scars over the years. since bhaal won't let them die, they spend most of their time magically disguised, and they don't own their own body anyway, esper got to a point where they just stopped caring how they look at all. they ultimately viewed their body as just this kind of shitty little vessel of pain that didn't matter as long as it could effectively serve bhaal. just like a 200$ beater car that's held together with duct tape and a dream. the check engine light has been going off for years but it still takes gas and drives to your job so it's fine. everything is fine