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mieczyslawsravenclaw · 1 year ago

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Eidetic Memory Be Damned -Spencer Reid

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•Pairing - Spencer Reid x FemFBIAgent!Reader

•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!

•Summary/Prompt - Spencer is tired of only having the memory of you to enjoy during his spicy times , so he just has to intrude into your hotel room after a case is finished…

•Warnings/Content - p in the v unprotected (hey kids- DONT DO IT) ; cursing ; Spence loves to beg to nut in you and does so ; creampie ; some pain play? (just a lil hand on the throat dealio and some hair pulling) ; LOTS of praise on both sides (good boy, pretty girl, etc) ; very mf horny lol ; (basically they do just about everything from first base to last bestie slay)

•Word Count - 3.3k

•Authorʼs Note(s) - Iʼm so mf rusty at writing smut so this is probs not the best, I just wanted to write some Spencer spice cause I had a spicy dream about him lmao RIP >_< Also this'll be my first official post of my writing on Tumblr slayyyyy

•Additional Tags - Switch!Spencer , Switch!Reader , Spencer is a needy brat LMAO , Team has ‘no ideaʼ you two are hooking up (Be so mf fr they do) , Good aftercare is so valid , Spencer loves being cuffed and teased muahaha

As much as this last case had taken out of me, I was more than happy to get to spend some time in my hotel room while the jet refueled and everyone got their bearings. Itʼs not home - far from it, Iʼd been missing my own bed for the majority of our time here in whatever state it was now - but at least it was something.

But of course, the reprieve wouldnʼt last long - a sharp knock on my door confirmed that, about 20 minutes after Iʼd laid down to sleep.

“What…ˮ I groan, frustratedly looking over at the clock.

The knock, again, more persistent this time. And I recognize its pattern now, three short tap-taps. Spencer.

My heartbeat, despite my minor annoyance at being woken up, is hammering now. Spencer seems to do that to me, from the moment Iʼd realized I have feelings for him, carrying into whatever it is that we are now. Secret trysts that Iʼm sure are no secret to our team members, especially Garcia, because sheʼd pried it out of me almost immediately and now waits in her dark little room with nothing else but excitement for the latest updates on us, it seems.

“Are you awake?ˮ A gentle but still much-too-loud voice asks.

I tumble out of bed, rushing to the door. I donʼt even have time to make sure I look okay - Iʼm much too worried about anyone else hearing him. The door is unlocked and pulled open in record time, a stunned lanky man quickly and semi-quietly forced inside.

“Spence, someoneʼs gonna hear you if you keep on like that.ˮ I chastise him, shutting and locking the door behind us. No sooner have I done so, than his lithe form overtakes me, nestling into the crook of my neck with a groan that seems both relieved and not relieved at all.

“Donʼt care,ˮ He pushes me back, until my legs meet the mattress and fold. Quickly following on top of me, he sighs, “Been too long. I miss you. You know I have an eidetic memory, yeah? Doesnʼt mean shit when Iʼm up late and even thoughts of you arenʼt enough to keep me satiated.ˮ

“Someoneʼs gonna-ˮ Hear, I want to say. He knows, of course he does. And Iʼm only half-complaining, with his lips at my neck and his leg sneaking up between mine the way he also knows.

“Donʼt care.ˮ He repeats, the low moan at the back of his throat breaking through into the silent room. “I told you I miss you. Should I tell you about what I use my memory for? And just how much that hasnʼt been enough lately? Or should I show you?ˮ

Itʼs clearly a rhetorical question, but still, he seeks the permission I am more than happy to grant.

“Tell me. Uh, show me. I mean-ˮ

“I can do both,ˮ Even in the dark, I know heʼs got that matter of fact smirk on his lips. He reaches down, holding me by the hip with one hand while the other slips into my pajamas, a practiced motion heʼs all too good at by now. “Usually this is what I remember first. The way your skin feels, how nice it is to make you tremble beneath my touch.ˮ

I buck up, and he chuckles.

“All too eager, arenʼt you? Clearly youʼve been thinking about it too, huh, pretty girl?ˮ A pointed question he knows Iʼll struggle to answer, with his hand and his voice torturing me so.

“No eid- identical- uh, no memory recall whatever for me.ˮ

“Still wouldnʼt satiate, I bet.ˮ He remarks, casually rubbing circles and patterns over my panties. This is how he operates, surely and with no warning. A gentle but firm kiss to my jaw, and he continues, “Itʼs like that for me, at least. I know no amount of recalling how you feel under me will be enough to match just how nice it is.ˮ

Heʼs right, and of course he is; I can barely handle the teasing, the tone his voice has taken in this short amount of time. And I currently dont care if weʼre heard, either.

“Spence-ˮ

“What is it, sweetheart? Too much for you? Not enough?ˮ

“Please?ˮ

“Words, honey. Youʼve gotta use your words. Or you can show me, Iʼm okay withthat too.ˮ He guides my hand down to his.

“More.ˮ I plead, working to undress myself before his hands take over.

“You only have to ask.ˮ

True to his word, Spencer pulls the fabric away, no longer allowing it to be a block between us. Itʼs lost somewhere in the sheets as he kisses me, his practiced hands no longer in the mood to tease. He slips a finger in, and when I let out a keening whine, another, his free hand going automatically to my mouth.

“Now as much as I say I donʼt care, youʼve gotta be a little quiet for me,ˮ He goads, knowing this will only make it harder for me to do so. His breath is hot in my ear, his fingers working a motion thatʼs both breaking pent up weeks old frustration, and yet causing more tension in my belly. “Much as I love your voice. Your sounds. The-ˮ

I rut up against him, my lips opening around his thumb. He works it into my mouth, his voice lowering even further.

“Cmon, show me how much you missed me, huh, princess?ˮ

I moan, words lost in my mind as it spins. Every tug of his fingers between my thighs is building a high Iʼm chasing, and when I get to this point, Iʼm not talking - he is. And he knows it, knows the right words to say to build and break me.

“This is what Iʼm after, this is what I canʼt just remember. Because itʼs all too much to remember how good it feels to destroy you.ˮ

Please, please. I canʼt hold off much longer.

“Now are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?ˮ

I nod, lips opening and letting his hand free from my mouth as my breaths grow heavy. “Canʼt - Please, Spence, please-ˮ

He presses me further into the mattress, murmuring sweet and dirty nothings into my ear as the dam breaks and I ride my high. Iʼm far too sensitive following, and when I try to push him away for a moment, allow myself to collect some sort of reprieve before we continue, he chuckles lowly.

“See, I can recall that clear as day. But itʼs so much sweeter to have it happening in front of me, you know?ˮ He nestles in beside me, turning me to face him.

Nigh immediately, Iʼm reaching for his belt buckle. Of course he wouldnʼt have changed into comfortable clothes, not even this late- Iʼm sure this was his plan all along, and he tried to fight it as long as he could.

“Someoneʼs eager.ˮ He quips, the smirk growing.

“Youʼve got me thinking about it,ˮ I sigh, letting him maneuver himself out of the constricting clothing. “Coming over and getting me all hot and bothered. I really ought to…ˮ

“Ought to what?ˮ He goads, pulling me onto him with a low noise as we brush together. “Hmm? Are you gonna say…you ought to punish me?ˮ

I nod, rubbing back against him. He lets out a moan, hands gripping my hips tighter.

“I remember how that feels,ˮ He pulls me closer, voice dropping. “But for your sake, maybe you should refresh me.ˮ

When he reaches for me again, I pull back, pinning his hands down above his head. I know he could get out of it if he really wanted to - Iʼm strong, but not stronger than him - but he most certainly doesnʼt want to get out of it. And Iʼm enjoying it far too much to stop myself now.

“Whatʼre you gonna do, cuff me?ˮ He snaps, the bratty attitude far too practiced and already making me a soaking mess.

“I might.ˮ I reach for my pair, knowing all too well that heʼll absolutely lose it once I let go on him. I can hardly stand the anticipation. “Scared, Reid?ˮ

“Terrified. Please, donʼt. Iʼve been a good boy, I swear.ˮ

I push him back while he pleads, tightening the metal around his wrists. The look on his face, muffled as it is by the darkness of the room, is more than enough to spur me on.

“Not thinking about this at all, huh?ˮ I shed my top, if only for the knowledge that his inability to reach for my breasts drives him utterly insane. “And Iʼm sure you havenʼt spent many late nights with the memory of me riding you, have you? Havenʼt had your hands on that pretty cock of yours, thinking about how it feels when itʼs me, yeah?ˮ

“N-Not at all.ˮ

“Itʼs a shame, then.ˮ I tease, feeling him harden beneath me with every word. “Iʼll have to make you confess, I suppose.ˮ

His eyes follow my every move as I back up, slotting between his legs and bending down to kiss along his hips.

“Youʼll never get it out of me.ˮ He groans.

“Is that a promise or a challenge?ˮ I ask, not breaking eye contact as I place a kiss on his sensitive head.

“Challenge? Would I…challenge you?ˮ He still holds onto a moment of sanity, until I take him in my mouth, and itʼs lost with a sigh of, “Oh, would I.ˮ

I bob my head, my practiced motions coming in handy now. The usually-full-of- remarks Spencer Reid folds under my touch, soft deep moans and babble of confessions and wish I could pull your hair passing his lips while I work him out.

After a few moments of this, I let him free - at least from the torture of my lips.

“Where are you going? Please, I wanna cum for you, Iʼll tell you everything I did while I couldnʼt stand to wait for you.ˮ He keens.

“Oh, Iʼm far from done with you, Spence.ˮ I slowly, agonizingly slowly, climb back on top of him, making sure to back right up against him as he tightens against the cuffs. “Donʼt you worry, Iʼll have every measly confession pouring from you. You know I will.ˮ

“Please, let me out- Gotta touch you, I just gotta-ˮ

“Shh, be good for me, wonʼt you?ˮ I lift myself over his face, pressing my folds to his lips. “Unless you wanna stay in those forever.ˮ

He shakes his head, vibrating a ‘noʼ against me.

“Good. Now youʼre gonna pay your dues and clean up the mess youʼve made.ˮ

Eagerly, he laps at me like heʼs never had it before. His utter submissiveness overwhelms him, letting me ride his face to my hearts content. Words are muffled and entirely lost in it, and I know by now that the sounds Iʼm making alone will be heard, but I donʼt really care. Iʼm too far gone in how good it feels to finally have him making me cum again.

“Can I touch you now?ˮ

I slide back onto him, teasingly letting myself rest with just the edge of him pressing into my folds.

“Can you?ˮ I look pointedly at his wrists.

“I-oh, my god, clearly not, but-ˮ

“How about this?ˮ I amend. “You give me a confession, you get a reward. Sound fair?ˮ

“Yeah, sounds just fine. I couldnʼt get off without coming here, you realize that, donʼt you? Youʼre the only thing that gets me off anymo-Oh-ˮ His confession is cut short as I slide him a bit further in, just enough to spur him further. “I mean, I get off, donʼt get me wrong here. But nothing feels as good as when itʼs with you. Nothing.ˮ

“Keep going, youʼre doing good.ˮ I praise, sinking a bit deeper.

“Goddamn you feel so good.ˮ He moans. “Like, my hands canʼt even come close to this, are you kidding? I can try all I want, and believe me, I have - Oh, my god, please donʼt stop - Iʼve been trying all the time, I admit that, canʼt hardly stand being around you and not being able to just fuck you whenever I want.ˮ

I push down further, the stretch he gives me loosing my own moan. “How much do you wanna fuck me, Spence? Tell me, please.ˮ

“God, all the time. Itʼs all I can think about when I get down to it - baby, can I please touch you now?ˮ

“Punishment is a bitch, isnʼt it, Reid?ˮ I smirk, starting to push him in and out of me, slowly and with a devious grin that falters at just how damn good it is.

“Baby, Iʼm gonna get outta these and fuck you so good-ˮ

“Try it.ˮ I raise an eyebrow, stopping my motions.

“Oh- No, Iʼm sorry, please donʼt stop. Iʼll be good, I promise.ˮ

“Yeah, you will.ˮ I drop as far as I can take him, savoring the stuttered animalistic groan he lets out as I press down onto him, pulling his hair and moving my hips around him. As he is want to do, heʼs thrusting up into me, even if heʼs unable to reach me with his hands held up as they are. “Eager, sweet boy. Iʼm gonna ruin you.ˮ

And ruin him, I do. The tension and heat in my belly rides and breaks several times, with him unable to form real words except for the continuous begging of please donʼt stop repeated on a loop until I feel Iʼm satisfied with his demeanor.

Once Iʼve tortured him enough, I reach for the cuffs, ready to let him off the leash - knowing that once I do, the balance will shift. Truthfully, Iʼm just eager to let him be true to his word and fuck me like heʼs been dying to.

“You donʼt need any more confessions from me, then?ˮ He huffs, sweat slicked across his brow from the effort of holding back - though heʼs not really done so, has he?

“One last one, I suppose.ˮ I pull off of him, and the pout he gives nearly makes me sit right back down on him again.

“Alright, Iʼll be good and honest with you, then.ˮ He continues while I set to unlocking the cuffs, “You know the other day, just after we got the final piece of evidence put together?ˮ

I nod.

ˮI was so psyched, I couldʼve taken you right there. I donʼt care that everyone would have known, would have seen. Itʼs just something you do to me.ˮ He finishes, his tone light. Oh boy, Iʼm about to get railed. “I love you. And now Iʼm gonna fuck you like Iʼve been wanting to for weeks.ˮ

No sooner is he free, tearing off the shirt he was wearing and looming over me with the hungriest of looks at my body before pressing himself into me. No wait, no teasing - heʼs not got the control for it, clearly, and Iʼm not complaining one bit.

“Next time, you get the cuffs, pretty girl.ˮ He promises, his hands all over my body now that he can manage it. Hard, precise thrusts, his voice heavy and fucked-out.

“And Iʼll show you just what Iʼve been wanting to do that Iʼm gonna savor in my mind after.ˮ

My nails are leaving deep trails in his back, surely leading to marks that would raise questions if anyone else saw. Heʼs so far in me, almost bottomed out, and itʼs almost too much and yet not enough all at once. I pull him closer, and his hand tangles in my hair while the other clasps around my throat.

“Youʼre all mine.ˮ Spencer growls - truly, thereʼs not other word for it, the purely animal drive taking him to a world where itʼs just us, just this. And Iʼm there too, crying out with the ecstasy his body causes my own.

“All yours.ˮ

“Thatʼs right, pretty girl. Say it for me, I wanna hear you say it.ˮ

“Iʼm all yours, Spence- oh, my god-ˮ

“Good, thatʼs good. My pretty girl. Youʼre so tight, you feel so good wrapped around me, donʼt you? God, what a sight.ˮ Here he is, in his rambles now, and I can hardly contain how close I am. “Wanna tell everyone this is mine. Iʼm the only one that gets to have you, gets to fuck you like this. See you break for me. Only me.ˮ

“Only you, Spence, only you-ˮ

“Cʼmon, I know youʼre close, I can feel it. You get so much tighter, god, if itʼs even possible-ˮ

“Spencer-ˮ

“Thatʼs my girl, cum for me.ˮ

“Donʼt stop-ˮ I can feel the cord in me ready to snap, chasing my most intense orgasm of the night with his words and the feeling of him slamming so deep inside me. “More, Spence, you can give me more-ˮ

“Sweet girl, of course, I know you can handle it.ˮ He pushes himself fully in, my breath catching at the slight pain, yet itʼs still so good, I canʼt stop it, I donʼt want to. “Want me to fuck you so good with all of me, donʼt you?ˮ

I nod against his grasp, and he loosens it a bit, kissing me fervently.

“Please, please cum for me, I wanna feel you all over me, beautiful.ˮ He reaches down, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. Itʼs the last thing I need to send me over that edge, and I cry out, his name slipping past my lips unwarranted. “Oh, baby, love how you say my name. Like itʼs a prayer, like Iʼm a god.ˮ

“Donʼt stop, Spence-ˮ

“Iʼm close, baby- Oh, I wanna cum in you-ˮ

Another orgasm follows near immediately after this one, and Iʼm grasping at him while heʼs chasing his own, his hands fumbling and his thrusts getting sloppy. He grips the sheets, his breaths stunted.

“Cum in me, please-ˮ

“Iʼm gonna, god, Iʼm so fuckinʼ close-ˮ He tightens around me, muscles shaking as he lets loose, and now itʼs his turn to moan my name a lot louder than he should while he cums. Heʼs so pretty when he does, too - the crease that works between his brows, the round pucker to his lips. Partly through, he kisses me, hard. And when heʼs done, his grip loosens, falling slack on top of me with a contented sigh.

A few moments pass where he just holds me, peppering soft kisses across my face and telling me you did such a good job, baby. Then, he pops up with a smile and comes back with water and a towel, cleaning up after himself.

“Satisfied?ˮ I chuckle, slowly pulling my clothes back on.

“Almost.ˮ He dips his head down, capturing a nipple in his mouth for a few moments. I groan, overstimulated, but still too happy to appease him. “Now, Iʼm satisfied. Iʼm staying in here, okay? Donʼt care if someone sees at this point.ˮ

“Spence?ˮ

“Mmhm?ˮ

“I love you, too.ˮ

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #sub!spencer reid

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timeslipcamp · 25 days ago

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obligatory theory about the kyklos and what i think is happening.

literally every time i finish an episode i go and jot notes down in my lil mental notebook of theories and laugh like yuri in his lab

spoilers through ep 15

so i've seen this idea tossed out but no one really went in depth on why they thought it so i'm going to list off MY reasons why i thought this is what's happening.

fair warning: this is going to be long, i've got about five million thoughts on this and it's only going to get worse as more episodes get released. get comfy and grab a snack

i think mc and the ghouls are trapped in a time loop

it's a trope that when handled well can be really really cool, and with how many moving parts and ghouls there are to distract from what's happening, it's super plausible. the only reason i'm hesitant to say this is 100% what i think it is is because it's still only episode 16 and we know next to nothing about the clash and anything that happened last year. plus the game's only been out for a year, we've barely scratched the surface of the plot.

that being said, we're getting about 3-4 episodes per every couple months, which means by like episode 20-24 we'll be coming up on a year since mc was cursed. maybe. i'm bad at math. (EDIT: someone else did the math and it will probably be closer to 40 that we hit the year mark lmao) is the story going to be over then? i don't think so. i think the following chapters would follow us through the time loop as we finally work to solve it

if i had to guess, this is how i think the general timeline goes: mc, despite the ghouls best efforts and someones sacrificial jump into flames from a balcony, turns into the kyklos. to stop the teachers/school-aligned ghouls from killing her, someone sends her away--and accidentally sends her back in time instead. taiga, however, has been told by mc that if she were to turn, kill her before she hurts anyone. taiga goes back with her to stop her.

crazy concept: the one eyed sleeping beauty murder was the trigger event. the kyklos has one large eye. this part is still muddy given that we literally don't know shit about any of this, but i think it wasn't a one eyed beauty that was killed, i think the one eyed beauty killed someone while those other ghouls happened to be present. we got the five suspects based on them either being in the wrong place at the wrong time or by reputation (a la alan and jiro.) i think this is how zenji died as well, but i have zero basis for that other than vibes.

future!taiga continues to chase the kyklos, runs into his past self and explains (or maybe he's always known, or maybe whatever's going on with his brain makes him able to remember every loop, OR something is actively working against him remembering all of it) past!taiga does something that triggers the clash, and eventually, the kyklos finds her way to mc on the train. the following chapters would then begin to follow mc at the beginning of the loop again

this is literally all me guessing. i'll make an updated post once we finally know more about the clash and the one eyed sleeping beauty murders. and literally everything else smh

another quick note before i forget: i do think it's interesting that everyone who lost a day to the casino anomaly had their memories replaced of a girl in a tower in the woods. rapunzel reference? orrrrrr in early versions of the sleeping beauty tale, she was said to be in a lonesome tower waiting for someone to wake her up. coincidence? probably! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

anyways

"how did we end up here?"

SUPER compelling that this is one of the opening lines. the whole intro is generally a vague "humans avoiding darkness" spiel, but i do personally think its alluding more to the coming together and working as a team theme than an actual darkness. to me it feels like it's implying (based on the story so far) that working together is the light that can drive away the darkness (her curse)

one of my big things that made me wonder right at the beginning was how it almost immediately dropped the line "if we could do it all again" (paraphrasing). the whole theme about doing it again and would we do it again kinda made me think repetition was going to be a theme in the story, but once i got a few chapters in, i was definitely hurtling towards the time loop theory.

mc starts off talking about how she's sad it's over and we come to see she's talking about a band breaking up, and one by one the group chat members leave until she's left alone with just mina.

now mina itself as a name is an interesting choice. it's a fairly international name with a couple different translations. one translation has it meaning love, one says it's the same word as a mockingbird (a bird that can imitate human sounds) and in japanese, mina is a name meaning lovely/beautiful while min-na is a term sometimes used to mean "all of you", like saying all yall in english. fun play on words there if the time loop theory is correct and the kyklos we see at the beginning is in fact mc (aka all of us)

mina's profile picture is also a red spider lily, commonly known in popular media as the death flower

it's often planted in graveyards to ward off evil spirits and help guide those who have passed to the afterlife. another meaning for the flower is reincarnation: yet another implication of a cycle.

(it's also a popular flower in hanahaki disease fics, which is a fic trope where flowers bloom in the lungs of someone whose love isn't returned, but that's unrelated)

actually now that i'm really staring at that picture, it looks more like a red surprise lily, which is even funnier imo. apparently it's just a sister flower of the spider lily

mina says it must be destiny and that she's been waiting to meet us. spooky. we haven't really seen any other anomalies do anything premeditated like that, they're all mainly reacting to their environment, other than mr long legs i guess. but his felt more like predatory i need to eat intent, not "i'm tracking down this specific person" type of deal. definitely correct me if i'm wrong on that, though. i'm super interested in the "intelligent" anomalies vs the reactive ones. i'll make a post on that later

i've seen a couple other posts talk about how kyklos means circle in greek (aka another point in the time loop basket) but it's also interesting to note that kyklos comes from kuklos, whose root word kukló was often used to describe something that encircles. broke out a couple of my old humanities research packets and found this:

"a group of people...positioned around a central point"

whether that's intentional or not, i do think it is interesting that the whole time loop could be centered on this group of people that are positioned around a central point: the kyklos and mc. everything always revolving around the main character and the curse that started it all.

almost immediately after, mc is swiftly taken to darkwick and told that she'll die in a year (which we later find out is a lie) and sent off to live her life

taiga is the most suspicious person in the WORLD to me. fuck the traitor shit i wanna know what taiga knows

our brief introduction of him (and a scene on campus) tries to convince us he's insane

fairly compelling

but it's in the small cut scenes we see with the other ghouls that really get me.

TAIGA knows something!! the second one really gets me, especially in the context of a time loop, and even more so if taiga is aware of the loop. the second screenshot reads to me as either he's 1. about to make a deal with either haru or whatever he's summoning with a coin, or 2. he's like "fuck it, i've seen this loop a hundred times. there's ways where they survive and there's ways where they die. pick one, we'll try it again and see if it changes anything this time."

i don't think he's actually lost his mind. i think he's putting up an act to throw someone off his scent (namely the traitor and whoever the traitor is working with.) i also get the feeling, especially after rereading the auction chapter, that there's something actively working against taiga having all of his memories. it might be the pact he made with his demon, but i almost wonder if it's someone else's stigma or ability preventing it. we don't know what all the ghouls can do yet, or even the teachers.

maybe it's the time loop itself that's keeping taiga from keeping all the timelines straight. maybe he's done this so many times he doesn't know what's real anymore. additionally, if you pick him in the beginning, this is what he says:

once again, i'm getting the vibes that he's trying to figure out what could possibly be different about this loop that might finally break us out of it.

anyways, those are my basic notes on why i think this is gonna center around a time loop. given that haku's flute can transport and subaru's stigma has to do with memories and we dont even know half of the stigmas yet, i think it's entirely possible. but we'll see!

feel free to comment your own thoughts on what's happening :) ask box and dms are always open

#tkdb #tokyo debunker #theories #i wish i could add more than ten pics ugh #taiga hoshibami

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papervenom · 15 days ago

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✩ chapter seventeen: you feel like heaven ✩

summary: your fourth year starts with the return of the triwizard tournament— and a relationship with cedric diggory that should feel steady, but doesn’t. when harry’s name gets pulled from the goblet, everything shifts. the trio starts to crack, and being with cedric only adds to the tension. you’re sure about how you feel , you love him. but someone else is pulling for your attention, and it’s getting harder to ignore. a slow-burn, character-driven take on goblet of fire, told through your perspective

chapter warnings: SMUT!! (18+ only) including oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex (m/f), and first time experience . soft dom!cedric, praise kink, light overstimulation, and lots of filthy, romantic language. canon divergence is present (all characters are of age).

authors note: hi friends! so sorry this update took a little longer than expected, i just really wanted to make sure everything was perfect. this chapter has been such a long time coming (slowest burn ever) and since it’s my first time writing smut, i was extra nervous and extra meticulous. i hope you liked it!! and now that the door’s officially been opened… let’s just say this won’t be the last time things get spicy lmao. thank you for reading and for being so patient— i love u guys endlessly. <3

word count: 10.1k

INSATIABLE MASTERLIST⋆˙⟡

The night wore on, and Cedric and I never once sat down. It became painfully clear that we were dancing to Professor Flitwick's personal playlist, heavy on disco and '80s new wave, but surprisingly, none of the songs were bad.

Cedric would sing along to the corny, sappy lyrics of 'More Than a Woman' by Bee Gees, 'You Sexy Thing' by Hot Chocolate, 'What I Like About You' by The Romantics, and 'Right Down the Line' by Gerry Rafferty.

In return, I would comically sing to him the chorus of 'Whatta Man' by Salt-N-Pepa and smooched his lips to 'Kiss' by Prince.

It was unexpectedly cathartic, watching Cedric let go— watching him be silly and unfiltered and completely himself around me. He’d ditched his dress robes and bowtie early on, leaving him flushed and delicious in his fitted, half-unbuttoned shirt and vest, curls falling into his eyes.

I was having so much fun with him, my entire face ached from smiling so much.

And I just couldn’t keep my hands off him.

My arms stayed looped around his neck as he swayed me from side to side, and I clung to his shoulders when he dipped me low, both of us breathless with laughter, dizzy with joy.

As we twirled, folding in and out of each other’s arms, the world around us blurred— just streaks of color and light, until I caught sight of Cho and Harry a few feet away. They looked relaxed, talking close, smiling like they’d known each other forever.

It made something soft stir in my chest, seeing them comfortable.

When I looked back at Cedric, he was already watching me, grinning like he’d been waiting for me to notice. That soft, knowing smile made my stomach flip. He’d seen it too. Cho and Harry. And not a single flicker of resentment crossed his face.

He looked happy.

At ease in a way that made my heart bloom.

There was no tension, no flicker of jealousy, not even a trace of bitterness.

He wasn’t carrying old feelings. He wasn’t looking back.

There were no games. No second guessing.

Just the kind of steady love that made trust feel easy. Like I could fall into it with my whole heart.

And I already had.

Falling in love is a terrifying thing. It means letting your guard down, allowing someone to see all of you, and hoping they won't take that for granted. It's where you're most exposed. And even though this was my first time being in love, there was no hesitation in giving myself fully to Cedric.

His attention wasn't wavering, and neither was mine. I could continue to allow myself to grow accustomed to his warm, sweet breath, his strong, steady arms embracing me, and his touch that ignited a fire in my entire being. And somehow, I knew that this would be forever.

We fit so naturally. Our senses of humor aligned, and he cared so deeply about the things that mattered to me. Being with him was effortless, like every part of me was seen and understood. I couldn't imagine ever growing bored of him.

I swayed my hips with him as I sighed, unable to believe my luck in finding who I was so sure was my other half.

Then, in a brilliant surprise, The Weird Sisters returned to the stage for an encore, and the crowd erupted into cheers and screams. The energy shifted— brighter, looser, drunk on the high of the night.

As the noise faded into excited murmurs, the lead singer leaned into the mic with a sly grin.

“This one’s going out to all the lovers out there. Hold each other tight, and keep each other warm.”

Before I could even react, Cedric had already pulled me close. His arms wrapped around me like it was second nature, like his body already knew where mine belonged. My heart somersaulted in my chest as I melted into him, my hands finding their place over his heart.

The music shifted into something slower, softer— something that pulled couples together and made the rest of the world fall away.

The crowd around us paired off into couples, the Triwizard Champions among them, all of us slowly swaying to the softness of the ballad.

“Did I mention to you already how fucking happy I am to be here with you?” Cedric asked, his voice sincere.

My eyebrows lifted slightly at the swear, it wasn’t something he did often, but the rawness of it made my heart flutter.

“No, but I know it,” I said, smiling. “I am, too. Tonight might’ve been the best night of my life.”

“The night’s not over yet, angel,” he murmured, and I watched a blush creep across his cheeks.

I thought back to what he’d said the night before, his quiet suggestion, the way it lingered between us even now. I felt a flicker of nerves, but it wasn’t doubt. I knew exactly what I wanted.

“No, it’s not,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his lips, soft and certain.

My arms looped around his neck as we moved in time with the music, our temples resting together, breathing the same air.

The room felt like it had quieted around us. No whispers, no curious glances, and the lack of attention made the moment feel even more intimate.

Like this moment was meant to be just ours.

There were a few exceptions, of course. One of them being the pair of icy blue eyes a few feet away.

I was surprised to see Draco dancing with Pansy. She looked blissful, her cheek resting on his shoulder, eyes closed with a soft, dreamy smile on her lips. But he couldn’t have looked more uninterested.

He scanned the Hall with visible boredom until his gaze landed on Cedric and me again. And when it did, it stayed, sharpening with something unreadable.

Still, I didn’t give him more than a glance. My focus completely on my Golden Boy, who was looking at me like I was the only thing he saw— his expression open and full of quiet adoration. It made my chest ache in the best way.

We stayed like that through the last few ballads, swaying slowly, wrapped up in each other like the rest of the world had fallen away.

He sang every lyric to me like it meant something, like each word came from somewhere deeper, and with every line, I felt myself sink further into him.

Around us, couples began disappearing— slipping away for some privacy or heading up to get ready for the after-party in the Room of Requirement once they’d had their fill of romantic tunes.

But we stayed.

Cedric and I were among the last still dancing, holding tight to the final notes, clinging to the moment before it faded into memory.

When the last song came to a close, a bittersweet hush swept through the Hall.

For a few seconds, no one moved, then soft applause rippled through the small crowd, all of us thanking Professor Flitwick for his beautiful lineup of love songs.

One by one, we drifted out into the Entrance Hall, doing whatever we could to stretch the evening just a little longer.

Couples lingered, hand in hand, murmuring slow, reluctant goodnights. No one seemed eager to be the first to let the magic end.

I caught sight of Hermione and Krum sitting on the stairs, whispering excitedly to each other, and couldn't help but grin. It was nice to see that Ron didn't manage to spoil their evening.

“Fancy a smoke in the garden?” Cedric asked, his voice low, warm.

I nodded, slipping my hand into his. Together, we stepped out through the open front doors and into the night air, finally getting the chance to admire the grounds we hadn’t yet explored.

The rose garden shimmered under a canopy of fluttering fairy lights, each one twinkling like it was in on the night’s secret. We moved down the steps, the air crisp against our skin, and followed the path lined with thick rosebushes and looming stone statues. Somewhere nearby, a fountain babbled gently, the sound echoing through the stillness.

Here and there, other couples sat tucked together on carved benches, lost in their own little worlds.

Without saying a word, Cedric shrugged off his dress robe and draped it over my shoulders, shielding me from the bite of the crisp December air. Then, hand still in mine, he led us down one of the garden’s winding paths, fishing in his pocket for his cigarette case and lighter.

I watched him in quiet awe as he moved through the familiar routine. Cigarette balanced between his lips, head tipped low to shield the flame from the wind. He lit it, inhaled slow, then leaned his head back, exhaling a long, steady ribbon of smoke into the cold night air.

When he looked down again, he caught me staring—swooning, really—like one of those lovesick fangirls in the corridors who would eye me enviously.

“What?” he grinned, flashing me his pearly whites.

“Nothing. You’re just disgustingly hot,” I said, stealing the cigarette from his fingers and taking a puff myself.

Cedric was about to respond when voices floated over from one of the nearby rosebushes.

Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies stood half-hidden among the petals, completely entangled in a heated makeout session.

Cedric let out a bewildered laugh, which I quickly smothered with a sharp shush, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the fountain at the center of the garden. I barely held back my own laughter until we were safely out of earshot.

As soon as we rounded the corner, we burst into giggles, our laughter rising into the cold night air as we tried to recover from the shock of catching Fleur and Roger mid-snog.

A cluster of multicolored fairies lifted into the air as we passed, their glow casting soft light across Cedric’s face, highlighting every angle, every detail, like he was something holy.

In the moonlight, he didn’t even look real.

He looked like a Greek God carved from silver.

My own personal Adonis, hands firm on my hips like he never wanted to let go.

“Your face was crafted by the heavens,” he murmured, more to himself than to me, his voice full of something that made my breath catch.

And in that moment, I’d never felt more beautiful in my entire life.

Looking into Cedric’s eyes felt like falling into forever.

Time didn’t tick or pass, it simply paused.

Wrapped around us like something quiet. Something pure.

I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t. I was frozen in the softness of it all, in the overwhelming realization that I was looking at the man I was completely in love with.

And I had never been more certain of anything.

“(Y/N), I’m completely and utterly in love with you,” Cedric professed.

I surprised us both by giggling.

Joy bubbled up inside me, too big to contain, tears stinging my eyes and threatening to spill over from the weight of it.

He looked at me with that signature furrow of his brows— confused, but grinning, his whole face lit with something tender and bright.

I swiped at my cheeks, missing one that he caught with the pad of his thumb, brushing it away so gently it made my heart ache.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he said quietly. “I know it can take some time—”

But I was already shaking my head, already blinking back more tears.

“No, I just... I love you, too. I’m in love with you, too.”

His face lit up with so much pride, so much stunned joy, I thought he might cry right there with me.

It was the look I’d imagined he’d wear if he won the Tournament.

“I think I’ve been in love with you for a while,” I admitted, my voice shaking. “But it hit me during the opening dance. I just didn’t know if you felt the same—”

I didn’t even get to finish.

His hands were soon cradling my face, and then his mouth was on mine.

He kissed me softly. Carefully.

But it wasn’t gentleness I wanted—not now.

Not after everything.

Not after all the build-up. All the longing.

I curled my fists in the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer with wordless urgency until there was no space left between us.

He groaned, low and primal, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as his arms wrapped around me, lifting me with effortless strength until my legs locked around his waist.

We were exquisitely tangled— and this time, he kissed me like he meant it.

Like he couldn’t stand another second of not doing so.

My thoughts scattered.

Nothing existed beyond the electric slide of his mouth on mine, the delicious scrape of his teeth catching my bottom lip, biting down just enough to pull a helpless sound from the back of my throat.

That sound unhinged something in him.

His grip on me tightened, fingers digging into my thighs with desperate greed, like he couldn’t help himself anymore. Like he didn’t want to.

Then his mouth found my neck.

His lips blazed a trail across my skin, his tongue stroking over the heat of it, and I gasped— arching into him as cold air flooded my lungs, my body writhing under his touch.

My eyes fluttered open for a moment, just long enough to catch the endless sprawl of stars above us, the world reduced to a hush of rustling leaves and glittering fairy lights.

It was dizzying.

He was dizzying.

Cedric was something I could so easily lose myself in.

The sweetest kind of intoxication.

But reality pulled at me through the haze, just enough to remind me we were still outside, exposed, and very much at risk of being interrupted.

He felt it too. The way I stilled in his arms, the subtle shift in my breath.

Gently, he lowered me back to the ground, his hands steady at my waist as I caught my balance.

We both took a moment, eyes scanning the garden around us.

It looked empty. Still. Like we were the only two people left in the world.

But we knew better.

Someone was bound to come by eventually.

"Do you... do you want to go back to my dorm room?" Cedric asked, breathless, his grip on my waist tightening just enough to betray how badly he hoped I'd say yes.

"Yeah, let's go." I grinned, not even pretending to hesitate.

Just like that, we were off, hand-in-hand, heading toward the Hufflepuff dungeons.

When we reached the Entrance Hall, it was completely deserted.

Only the sound of our quick footsteps echoed off the marble floors— until the tower bell above us rang out, loud and thunderous, marking the new hour.

One in the morning.

I yelped, startled by the sudden clang in the stillness, and Cedric laughed, wrapping his arms around me on instinct, shielding me playfully as we descended the staircase.

Down in the lower levels of the castle, everything shifted.

Dozens of students from both Hufflepuff and Slytherin lingered about— already hyped for the after-party everyone had been whispering about all night.

“Diggory! You coming or what?” one of his Quidditch teammates called out, smirking.

Cedric barely turned. “Um, maybe in a bit,” he replied coolly, giving them a nod and the briefest smile before tugging me deeper down the corridor, away from the noise, away from everyone.

I heard snickering behind us, and with the urgency in our steps and the flushed look on both our faces, it didn’t take much to figure out what we were up to.

But I didn’t care.

Whatever trace of embarrassment might’ve flickered there was drowned out by the simple, overwhelming need to be alone with him.

If anything, I was frustrated— at the hallway, at the constant chatter, at how long it was taking to get to anywhere private. My whole body ached for him.

Students continued calling out to Cedric, wanting a glimpse, a word, a moment with one of the Triwizard Champions who were the moguls of the night, but he barely offered anything back. Just tight-lipped smiles as he steered us past them without breaking stride.

Eventually, he led me to a cluster of large barrels, stacked haphazardly along the wall. I hovered behind him, watching with curiosity as he crouched and tapped out a rhythm on the middle barrel in the second row.

Immediately, a hidden door opened beside us, revealing a tunnel sloping downward into the unknown.

"And we just get a lousy, weekly password," I muttered under my breath.

Cedric chuckled, stepping aside to hold the passage open for me.

I followed him in, the earthy scent of the tunnel giving way to warmth and woodsmoke as we entered the Hufflepuff Common Room— a cozy, high-ceilinged space that looked like it had been pulled straight from a storybook.

The room opened up around me, spacious but inviting, bathed in honeyed wood tones and soft golden light. Round doors curved into the walls, leading off to the boys' and girls' dormitories. The tables gleamed with polish, and the familiar, comforting scent of soil and fresh greenery clung to the air like a memory.

But what struck me most were the plants.

They were everywhere.

Potted cacti stood like sentinels on narrow shelves. Lush ferns spilled from copper-bottomed holders hung from the ceiling, their long tendrils curling like green smoke. For a moment, it felt less like a common room and more like a corner of the Hogwarts Greenhouses.

While I took it all in, Cedric rifled through his pockets until his fingers closed around a small brass key. He walked over to a carved wooden door tucked just beside the entryway, slid the key into the lock, and turned it. The soft click echoed louder than it should’ve in the hush between us.

The door creaked open.

He turned back to me, bathed in lamplight, eyes glowing with something quiet and certain.

That smile— playful and devastating, tugged at his lips, the same one that always made my chest tighten.

I lingered on it for a moment, breath caught in my throat.

Then I stepped past him, quiet smile on my lips, and crossed the threshold into his room.

It was warm and soft and familiar.

The room bore a cozy familiarity, quilted bedding and layered rugs like my own dorm, though here they were stitched with rich gold and black, Hufflepuff pride woven into every thread.

By the window, surrounded by yet more greenery, stood a desk in gentle disarray— books stacked, parchment half-filled, ink pots open like they’d just been used. It reminded me of his room back home. A quiet reflection of the boy I knew behind the champion title.

And there, tucked against the wall, stood a four-poster bed like mine... except his stood alone.

One bed.

“No dormmates?” I asked, voice quieter now, my eyes flicking from the bed to Cedric as he shut the door behind us and turned the key again with that same steady, deliberate care.

He cleared his throat. “No, erm... House Boy and House Girl get their own room.”

His voice softened as he stepped closer. One hand lifted to brush my hair aside, exposing the curve of my shoulder. His fingers were warm and featherlight, tracing my skin like he’d dreamed of this moment for longer than he’d ever admit.

“Lucky us,” I whispered, turning to face him fully, my pulse a steady drum beneath my ribs.

The low lamplight cast him in gold and shadow.

His skin was flushed. His eyes, dark and blown wide.

And his lips, still swollen from the garden, were parted, waiting.

He looked at me like he needed this.

Like he’d burn if he didn’t touch me.

His gaze dropped to my mouth. Then lower.

Lingering. Devouring.

My breath hitched.

The air between us so thick with desire, it felt like I could drown.

I let out a quiet, trembling sigh as he raised a knuckle to my cheekbone, barely grazing it. The gentleness of it was ruinous.

My eyes fluttered shut, leaning into the heat of him.

Cedric hesitated, just a heartbeat.

Then I looked up, and whatever he saw in my eyes snapped the last thread of his restraint.

He surged forward, and his mouth crashed into mine in a kiss so deep, so desperate, it stole the air from my lungs.

His hands slid to either side of my face, gripping gently but firmly— grounding me, steadying me, while everything else dissolved around us.

There was nothing else.

It was just him now.

His mouth. His breath. The desperate, unrelenting way he craved me.

Nothing had ever felt more right.

We exhaled into each other— one breath, shared between two hungry mouths. The tension between us unraveled, thread by thread, replaced with something hotter. Something electric.

I wanted more.

Our tongues swirled, a heady mix of his slow seduction and my fevered need. I reached up and slid my dress robes off my shoulders, letting them fall in a soft heap to the floor, leaving only the delicate fabric of my gown clinging to me.

His hands followed instinctively, brushing over my neck, skimming the swell of my breasts. But then he stopped, his fingers stalling like he didn’t want to go further without knowing I was sure.

I leaned into him, pressing my chest against his. The heat of his body bled into mine.

And that look on his face— Gods.

His eyes lit up like a boy unwrapping the one gift he never thought he’d get.

He looked down at me like I was something sacred.

And the moment he knew I wanted this too, something in him shifted.

His hands moved— no longer hesitant, but hungry. They slid up to cup my chest, giving a slow, purposeful squeeze that pulled a shaky breath from my lips. The awe in his expression darkened into something deeper.

Hungrier.

Possessive.

I breathed, legs weakening, nerves sparking like live wires. I reached for him, greedily touching over the fabric of his clothes, desperate to feel more. My palms slid across his chest— firm, warm, all toned muscle wrapped in cotton.

He seemed to revel in it, his restraint thinning with every pass of my hands.

With trembling fingers, I worked open the buttons of his shirt, peeling it from his shoulders with a quiet rustle. Then I tugged at the white tank beneath, dragging it up over his head. It caught for a second, and he laughed softly, wriggling out of it.

I giggled too, the sound slipping out before I could stop it. Something about the moment— his easy confidence, that playful little grin, so unmistakably him— soothed the nerves fluttering in my chest.

And then the shirt was gone, and he was standing in front of me in nothing but his dress pants.

Flushed. Beautiful. Real

He looked like the sculpture of David come to life— athletic, striking, his tousled hair falling perfectly out of place.

I reached out, my fingertips tracing along the defined lines of his torso, slow and reverent. He was lean and strong, built with that quiet kind of grace that didn’t beg to be noticed but demanded it anyway.

“You’re so hot,” I murmured, the awe in my voice shameless.

A smug little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and before I could say another word, his hand slid behind my neck, drawing me in. He dipped his head, his lips pressing warm, open kisses down my collarbone, each one branding heat into my skin.

My mouth parted as I melted into him, every kiss stealing the breath from my lungs. His fingers found the buttons of my dress and began undoing them unhurriedly. Savoring the moment.

And then, with a soft exhale, he unhurriedly slipped the straps from my shoulders.

With the same mannerism as if he were unwrapping something precious.

The dress fell in a hush to the floor, pooling at my feet, leaving me in the silk lingerie I’d picked just for tonight. White. Laced. Barely there.

“Fuck,” Cedric breathed. The word slipped out of him like he didn’t even mean to say it. Like he couldn’t help it.

His eyes drank me in— stunned and starving.

The white bustier hugging my chest, the matching lace low on my hips like a secret meant only for him.

His gaze alone lit something inside me. Hot. Raw. Drenched in desire.

But it also gave me power.

A surprising confidence surged through me. I didn’t feel nervous. I felt wanted. Worshipped. Entirely his.

I stepped closer, slow and sure, guiding his hand to the lace at my hip— the fabric meant to tempt, to be undone.

“I wore it for you,” I whispered, voice low, steady, a smile curling at my lips. “So you could take it off.”

His breath hitched— sharp, almost pained— and for a beat, he just stared, like I’d knocked the world off its axis. His hand tightened at my waist, thumb stroking the lace like he needed to confirm it was real.

Then he moved.

He closed the space between us, hips pressing to mine, the friction sweet and sinful. It dragged a moan from deep in my throat, my nipples hard beneath the lace, nerves igniting everywhere. I arched into him, gasping, pleading silently for more.

Then, finally, his fingers found the clasp of my bra and with a practiced flick, the lace slipped away.

His hands were there in an instant— warm and sure— cupping my tits with a reverence that turned hungry in seconds. I gasped, the contact sent a tremor through my entire body, my mouth falling open in a breathless cry.

And then he put his mouth on me.

He took one nipple between his lips, sucking gently, his tongue swirling with such tender precision it made me whimper. My hips jerked instinctively, desperate and restless beneath him, and my fingers dove into his hair, holding him to me like I couldn’t bear to let go.

He licked and sucked, murmuring soft, broken praise against my skin like he couldn’t believe I was his.

“Fucking hell, you’re perfection,” he groaned against my chest, voice wrecked and breathless, teeth grazing the bud before biting just enough to make me cry out.

His hands moved lower, slow and steady, sliding down my waist to grip the softness of my hips. He lifted me effortlessly, and I wrapped my legs around him without thought, like my body already knew what to do.

We kissed like it was the only thing keeping us alive, falling into a rhythm that made my head spin. One of his hands cupped beneath me, steadying the curve of my spine as he carried us to the bed, his steps slow, confident, measured.

Then he laid me down gently, like I was something precious to be placed, not dropped. My head sank into the plush give of his pillow, and in the next breath, he was over me again, half-naked and burning.

He dipped down without hesitation, picking up right where he left off, tracing a path of kisses over my chest, worshipping every inch of exposed skin with lips that knew exactly what they were doing. When his mouth found my nipple again, I gasped, arching into him. I couldn’t keep still, my hips rolling up into him, desperate for friction.

And then I felt it— the hard press of him through his trousers, nestled perfectly against the slick heat of me.

We both moaned at the contact. The sound tangled between us, raw and shared. His head dropped into the crook of my neck, and we rocked together, instinctive and helpless, letting the sensation take us over.

When he lifted his head again, I couldn’t look away. His eyes were wild, pupils blown wide, nearly swallowing the storm-gray I knew so well. His chestnut hair was a mess— soft, wild, marked by my fingers.

And right then, he looked like everything I’d ever wanted.

He looked fucking beautiful.

My chest rose and fell as I leaned up to kiss him— deep, slow, full of intent. I dragged my teeth along his bottom lip, savoring the way he shivered, before sinking back into the mattress, laid out and open, giving him everything.

Cedric groaned, low and guttural. His hands moved with urgency, sliding beneath me to grip the curve of my ass, fingers digging in as he pulled me against him. His hips ground down harder, rolling in slow, devastating circles that had me gasping, spine arching with each wave of friction.

“Every night,” he rasped, lips brushing my cheek, voice rough and trembling with restraint, “every single night before I’d fall asleep... until my skin burned and my body ached— I thought of you. Just like this.”

A sound broke from me, somewhere between a sob and a moan, and my hands moved down, fumbling with his belt, desperate now.

I undid the buckle, the clink of it sharp in the quiet, then worked at the button beneath. I’d never wanted anyone like this. Not in my entire life.

But before I could free him, he caught my hands in his, his fingers curling around mine like he couldn’t bear to give up control.

“Not yet, darling,” he murmured lowly like velvet dragged across heat. “I need to taste you.”

A gasp tore from my lips as slick heat bloomed between my legs. The words sent a shock of arousal straight through me, my body reacting before my mind could catch up.

I was soaked. Absolutely aching.

He pinned my wrists gently to the mattress, pressing them down like even touching him might shatter the fragile hold he had on control.

Then he kissed me again, hard and fast, before pulling away— beginning his descent with a hunger that bordered on reverent.

He moved lower, lips dragging fire across every curve he passed, taking his time.

His hands followed in tandem, gliding over my ribs, my waist, my hips, like he was learning me by heart.

He kissed down my stomach in warm, open-mouthed devotion, leaving my skin tingling.

And when he glanced up, I caught it— that flicker of restraint beneath the hunger, the silent question hovering in his eyes as he reached the edge of my panties and paused.

“Can I take these off, princess?” he murmured, fingers ghosting along the waistband.

He leaned in, brushing his lips over the silk, then teasing the fabric with his teeth, just enough to make my hips twitch.

A moan escaped me, sharp and breathless.

“Can I?” he asked again, softer this time, his hands steady on my thighs, thumbs stroking soft, soothing circles.

“Please,” I whispered, barely audible.

And he didn’t hesitate.

He sat up, hooked his fingers under the band, and slid them down... slow. Inch by inch. His mouth followed the path, leaving kisses in their wake.

I lifted my hips to help, needing to be bare for him.

With a lazy flick, he tossed the panties over his shoulder. I flinched slightly as the cool air kissed the slick heat between my thighs.

My legs twitched, starting to close, but Cedric gently coaxed them open again.

His hands skimmed up my legs, from ankles to knees, then knees to thighs, until they resettled, firm but careful.

His eyes locked on mine, and his voice dropped to a murmur.

“It’ll feel good,” he promised, warm and sure. “I promise.”

Then he leaned in and kissed the inside of my thigh.

Soft. Slow. Maddening.

Another kiss.

Then another.

Each one hotter. Closer. More devastating than the last.

My skin burned under his mouth. My body arched helplessly off the bed as anticipation coiled tight in my core, so tight I thought I might break.

“Cedric,” I whimpered, voice high and trembling.

“Yes, my love?” he murmured with a knowing smirk, lips ghosting just shy of where I needed them most. His breath fanned against my heat, and I nearly cried from how close he was.

His eyes sparkled with a quiet challenge. He wanted to hear it. He wanted me to say it.

“Please, Ced...” I breathed, my voice nothing more than a desperate, pleading sigh.

His gaze never wavered as his strong hands spread me open, pressing my thighs down into the mattress with deliberate, loving pressure.

The look in his eyes made my heart stutter— tenderness tangled with raw, unfiltered desire.

I flushed, heat rushing to my cheeks as I became acutely aware of how wet I was for him.

Warm, glistening, shamelessly dripping down my thighs.

But he didn’t blink. He didn’t look away. He stared at my pussy like it was the only thing in the world he wanted to taste.

And then he did.

He dove in like a starved man, tongue sliding through my folds with a hungry groan that vibrated against me. My back arched clean off the bed, a broken cry tearing from my throat.

His mouth was hot, open, greedy— licking, sucking, devouring me like I was his first meal after weeks of famine. Like he had nothing else in the world to live for but the taste of me.

His tongue moved with devastating precision, practiced and smooth, licking me in long, deliberate strokes that had me gasping and shaking.

“Fuck, you taste divine,” he groaned into my cunt, voice thick and muffled. His eyes fluttered shut as he buried his face deeper, and I was trembling.

Absolutely wrecked.

The heat between my legs had turned into a wet, pulsing ache, and he was feasting on it.

Every wet, obscene sound— his tongue, his groans, the messy squelch of pleasure— filled the room, turning the moment feral and vivid.

I was already unraveling.

He noticed.

He pulled back just slightly, his hands sliding up the backs of my legs, fingertips dimpling my skin as he spread me even wider.

When his eyes flicked up, dark and ravenous, I watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, savoring the taste of me before diving back in.

He flattened his tongue and dragged it through my folds, slow and devastating. I bucked at the contact. His thumb came up to spread me further, circling my clit in maddening, delicate strokes.

My eyes squeezed shut as I writhed beneath him, too gone to care how desperate I sounded.

Then his lips sealed around my clit, sucking gently, then harder, and I cried out— breathless and raw, every nerve unraveling under the weight of his mouth.

“Cedric— oh, fuck—” My fingers clutched at his hair, tugging when his tongue moved in practiced, devastating circles, every flick so perfectly placed it was criminal.

He knew exactly where to touch me.

Exactly how to push me higher.

He groaned in response, low and guttural, and the vibration jolted through me, pleasure curling hot and dizzy up my spine.

He didn’t stop.

He couldn’t.

His mouth was drunk on me— ravenous, insatiable.

I was falling apart, and he knew it.

“Doin’ so good for me,” he murmured against my heat, lifting his head just enough to look at me. His lips were slick, voice wrecked, eyes half-lidded and molten.

I couldn’t form words.

My breath was fast. Uneven.

“You think you can take my fingers?” he asked, and the heat in his gaze pinned me down like a spell.

My breath hitched.

“Yes,” I nodded, my entire body pulsing. “Please.”

He settled deeper between my thighs. One hand traced slow, teasing strokes along my inner leg while the other returned to my center, his thumb brushing over my clit in careful, coaxing circles.

And then I felt it— his finger pressing at my entrance, slipping in slow, stretching me with a tenderness that made my chest bloom with affection and desire all at once.

I gasped. The stretch was unfamiliar, but so good. My body clenched around him, greedy, aching.

He groaned, and just as his finger curled inside me, he sucked my clit into his mouth and I nearly screamed.

“Is that okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now. Still thick with lust, but gentle. Present.

I nodded frantically, barely able to catch my breath. “Yes— y-yes, please don’t stop.”

He nodded once, never breaking eye contact. Then he leaned in again, lips wrapping around my clit at the same moment his finger sank deeper.

The sensation made me shiver.

His rhythm was perfect, mouth and hand working in tandem, a rising tide sweeping me under.

I started to move with him, chasing every flick, every thrust, hips tilting up to meet him.

He adjusted easily, matching me, lips greedy, eyes gleaming.

Then he brought up two fingers, index and middle, and gently drew back the hood of my clit, baring every part of me to his mouth.

The contact was sharp. Intimate. I choked on a breath, my body seizing under the weight of it, pleasure cracking through me like lightning.

He was so in sync with me, it was like his body spoke a language mine had never known it needed.

“Patience, baby,” he murmured against my cunt, a flicker of amusement woven through his hunger. Then he hooked one of my legs over his shoulder, opening me further.

Candlelight danced across his skin, casting his hand in gold— veined, strong, moving between us like he knew exactly what I could take.

His thumb returned to my clit, circling slowly as his finger curled inside me just right.

A gasp tore from me, sharp and ragged.

I wasn't a prude. I’d touched myself before— but nothing had ever gone this deep.

His fingers found places in me I hadn’t even known existed. My body clenched around him as he worked in slow, testing thrusts, studying me. Learning.

I was his. Completely.

His eyes stayed locked on mine, catching every cry, every twitch of need.

“Fuck, you’re really fucking tight, dove,” he groaned, voice wrecked and low.

The sound shattered something inside me.

A moan slipped out— thick, wanton— slick flooding from me in response to the rasp of his voice.

“More. Please, Ced,” I whispered, breath catching.

His eyes softened, even through the haze. “Are you sure?” he asked, still making space for my answer, even now.

I nodded— desperate. Every inch of me begging.

He slid a second finger in, slow, careful, stretching me until I gasped, the pressure just enough to burn in the best way.

“I know,” he whispered, soothing, thumb circling my clit. “I’ve got you.”

He stayed still, giving me time, his tongue soothing the stretch with soft flicks, easing me open.

Once I relaxed beneath him, he started to move again— slow thrusts, deliberate, curling with precision.

His tongue kept pace, licking and sucking my clit like he was made for it.

My back arched. A sob of pleasure ripped from my throat.

My hands flew to his hair, anchoring myself in the thick, sweat-damp curls as he devoured me.

His head moved with purpose, mouth locked to the spot that unraveled me.

I was shaking. Sobbing. A beautiful, desperate mess.

And I couldn’t look away.

Watching Cedric Diggory between my thighs— lips soaked in me, eyes wild with adoration— it was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen.

“I—I’m close,” I gasped, thighs clamping around his head, my whole body trembling.

I sobbed his name, over and over, as the pressure inside me swelled— unbearable, desperate to break.

“Cum on my fingers, love,” he rasped, voice soaked in devotion. “You can do it.”

His fingers moved faster, curling and thrusting, hitting that perfect spot again and again. His thumb circled my clit, steady and precise.

His groan vibrated through me, and everything inside me shattered.

My body locked up, spasming and shaking.

“C-Cedric—fuck—!”

I cried out his name.

A prayer.

A plea.

The orgasm ripped through me like a tidal wave. Violent. Endless.

My thighs locked around him, back arched, toes curling as I broke open in his hands.

My slick coated his fingers, his mouth, dripping down his chin as he held me through it— patient, present, letting me ride every wave.

But he didn’t stop.

He never stopped.

He pressed soft kisses to my overstimulated core, licking me clean through every single aftershock with slow, savoring strokes.

Only when I whimpered did he finally ease off, fingers slipping from me with care.

He sat up slowly, eyes glazed, lips wet with me, chin glinting. The sight of him, filthy and gorgeous, made me feral all over again.

He looked at me like I was a miracle.

And somehow, in his eyes, I believed I was.

Sweat rolled down my neck. My limbs were limp. I could barely move.

Cedric chuckled, voice hoarse, lips shining.

That look— soft, awestruck, in love— made my stomach flip.

It was obscene. It was everything.

I had never come like that before. Never at someone else’s hands.

And I knew, deep in my bones, I would never forget it.

He looked like something divine.

And still, in his eyes, I was the one worth worshipping.

He hadn’t even come yet.

He’d given me everything.

And I wouldn’t stop until he felt as good as he’d made me feel.

I didn’t even think. I just moved.

I climbed into his lap, straddling him, trembling and undone, but ready for more.

I needed him.

I kissed him hard, deep and hungry, tasting myself on his tongue and moaning into the filthy, beautiful mess of it.

His hands tightened around my waist, groaning into my mouth as I rocked against him, grinding down onto the thick heat of his still-clothed cock.

The friction was maddening. Sharp and perfect. It sent shocks through my overstimulated cunt, making me clench around nothing, my body already spiraling again with need.

The kiss broke, but I didn't move far. I hovered there, our foreheads nearly touching, breaths tangled together in the thin space between us.

He looked up at me like I’d cracked the sky open.

And even though I was bare, flushed, undone, shaking— I had never felt more powerful. More seen.

He’d stripped me down to the rawest parts of myself, and yet somehow, I felt invincible on top of him. Worshipped.

I couldn’t believe how easily he’d made me fall apart.

And still... he was steady. Gentle. That quiet strength coiled beneath every breath. His desire never selfish, never rushed. Just him. The boy I loved.

I rolled my hips again, slow and steady, chasing the friction, the burn, the pleasure— but beneath it, something shifted.

A flicker of doubt bloomed deep in my belly. Not from nerves. Not from him.

But from me.

He looked so wrecked beneath me. So beautiful. Chest heaving, eyes glowing, mouth wet from me, and yet, all I could think was can I give him even half of what he gave me?

He felt it.

Of course he did.

His hands stilled my hips with that same careful touch, grounding me. He looked up through his lashes, reading every silent word I hadn’t said yet.

“(Y/N), we don’t have to do anything else, you know,” he said gently, voice like warm velvet as he leaned up and pressed a kiss to my neck.

His tenderness cracked something open in me.

“It’s not that, Ced... I’ve just never—” I began, my voice faltering, heavy with the weight of truth.

But he didn’t let me finish.

“Shh, baby,” he whispered, brushing his lips along my cheek. His hands held me like I was something fragile. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything more.”

And the way he said it— so soft, so sure— made my eyes sting.

But the idea of stopping here squeezed something tight in my chest.

I wasn’t afraid of going further. I didn’t want to pull away.

I wanted him. All of him.

The thought of halting now, of leaving this moment unfinished, felt like standing at the edge of something breathtaking... only to step back into the dark.

“...But I want to,” I said quietly, lifting my head just enough to meet his gaze, letting him see the truth in my eyes.

He held my stare, those storm-gray eyes locking to mine with a quiet intensity that always made my breath hitch.

His thumb brushed gently across my cheekbone, like he couldn't believe I was real.

“Are you sure?” he murmured.

I nodded, the movement small but certain.

Then I kissed him— deep, slow— letting him feel the answer on my lips.

My hands trailed down the planes of his chest, tracing every dip and curve until they found the waistband of his boxers. My fingers slipped beneath the fabric, aching to even the playing field, needing to touch him the way he’d touched me.

But before I could move further, Cedric wrapped his arms around me, guiding me gently back down to the mattress, his mouth never far from mine.

I gasped softly as my body met the bed again, legs still curled loosely around his hips, the heat between us simmering.

I reached for him again, but he caught my wrists, lacing our fingers together and pinning them down beside my head— not holding me back, just... pausing. Just being.

I blinked up at him, puzzled by the stillness.

He looked nervous. Something flickered across his face— uncertainty. Vulnerability. His brows knit, like there was something weighing on him.

“Baby...” he started, voice low and unsure. “I want to be honest with you. Cho and I, we’ve—”

I pressed my fingers to his lips before he could say more.

A sharp flicker twisted in my chest. Jealousy, maybe. Or just the ache of knowing someone else had seen him like this. Touched him. Loved him, even.

But I didn’t want it. I didn’t want her name here. Not in this room. Not with us.

“I know,” I whispered. “It’s okay.”

He exhaled, a slow, soft breath, tension melting from his shoulders as I pulled him down for a kiss. This one was gentle. Reassuring. Ours.

I sat up slightly, cupping his face in my hands, my thumb brushing along the curve of his jaw.

That sweet, dazed look returned to his eyes, soft and awestruck, like he was seeing something holy.

His lips parted, like he wanted to say more, but the words didn’t come. Only silence, warm and full, stretched between us in the most loving way.

Then, finally, he whispered, “You’ve no idea how much I wish you were my first...”

His voice was low, tinged with longing and something heavier that sounded like regret and longing.

Something inside me ached and bloomed.

I pressed my forehead to his, breathing him in, my heart fluttering like it had grown wings. He wasn’t rushing. He wasn’t taking.

He was waiting for me.

And I was ready.

I gave him a breathless smile as my hand slid down the hard plane of his abdomen, pausing only briefly before wrapping around the thick, heavy length of him through his boxers.

This time, he didn’t stop me.

His breath hitched, hips twitching in my palm, a low gasp escaping him that lit something wicked and wild inside me.

Even the smallest touch unraveled him. And I loved that.

With a shaky breath, I pushed his pants and boxers down, the fabric dragging over his hips until his cock sprang free— thick, flushed, resting hard against his stomach.

He shifted, rising to his knees just enough to shrug out of the rest of his clothes.

And then he was bare.

Utterly, beautifully bare.

My eyes drank him in— every sculpted line, the soft curves of muscle, the slope of his shoulders, the way candlelight made his skin glow like gold.

He was strength and gentleness, power and softness wound into one breathtaking body.

I felt heat pool low in my belly again.

“You're gorgeous,” I whispered, awe thick in my voice. The words weren’t planned. They just spilled out, helplessly true, like everything else about this night.

He leaned down to kiss me again, and this time it was slower— full of meaning, full of us. Our mouths met with a tender intensity that quickly deepened, melting into something hotter, messier, realer.

His hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair as he pulled me closer, like he couldn't stand even an inch between us.

We sank into the kiss, into each other, completely undone.

My hand found him again, wrapping around the thick heat of him— hard, flushed, already slick at the tip. I glanced down, breath catching at the sight of his cock in my smaller hand. The contrast sent a thrill down my spine, lit something bold inside me.

I stroked him slowly, thumb circling the head, spreading the bead of precum over the velvety skin. Cedric groaned, low and guttural, and the sound curled deep in my belly like fire.

I kissed along his jaw, down his throat, trailing heat over his collarbones as I worked him in my hand. Every twitch, every ragged breath he gave me felt like a reward. Like power and devotion braided together.

But just as my lips reached his chest, his hand moved.

He stilled me gently, fingers wrapping around mine, stopping the motion with quiet insistence.

I looked up, confused, searching.

He shook his head, that familiar soft smile spreading across his lips.

“Tonight’s about you, angel,” Cedric murmured, his voice low and warm, laced with something so full of care.

I hesitated, a blush blooming over my cheeks— embarrassed, just for a second— but then he kissed me again. Sweet. Anchoring. Full of promise.

And I understood.

This wasn’t rejection. It was tenderness. It was him.

As he settled against me again, I melted back into the pillows, parting my thighs to cradle him between them, welcoming him into the space my body had already made for him.

His cock pressed against my center, slick and hot, sliding through my folds with a slow, aching friction that made me gasp— so close, so intimate, I could barely stand it.

Every subtle roll of his hips dragged his length along my soaked pussy, sending sparks up my spine. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to.

I was dizzy from it.

His forehead rested against mine, both of us panting softly, his cock nestled right at my entrance. The tension was unbearable. Perfect.

The sounds he made were quiet, wrecked— little gasps, ragged exhales— like even this was almost too much for him to handle.

And it was undoing me, too.

“(Y/N), are you sure?” he asked again, his voice frayed with need, his whole body holding back.

I bit back a laugh, dazed from affection and lust, and cupped his cheek.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Cedric Diggory,” I whispered, low and steady. “I want this.”

He stared at me for one more breathless beat, eyes locked on mine.

And I let him see everything— every flicker of trust, every ounce of love, every thread of want.

He could’ve taken.

He could’ve given in to the pulse between his hips.

But instead, he kissed me.

He kissed me slow. Kissed me everywhere. Every gasp, every desperate sound he pulled from my throat, he answered with the soft brush of his lips. Down my jaw, across my chest, along the curve of my shoulder.

Like his restraint was the only thing keeping him from burning up.

Like he needed to worship me first, before giving in to everything clawing beneath his skin.

And all I could do was whisper his name— half-groaned, barely coherent.

I was soaked. Aching.

My thighs trembled from the effort of holding back, from the heat coiling low in my belly that begged to snap. My hips kept swaying, unable to stay still, seeking more friction, more of him. Pleasure sparked across my skin like embers catching light, stealing my breath, stealing everything.

Then Cedric shifted, his body taut above me, using his strong thighs to nudge mine wider, opening me up with reverent care.

He braced himself, chest heaving, sweat-kissed skin burning against mine. His cock rested against my slick heat, and I could feel how hard he was, how ready.

“This m-may hurt a little,” he murmured, voice shaking, forehead resting against mine. “Tell me if it’s too much. I p-promise you—”

“Ced,” I gasped, threading my fingers through his hair. “Just do it.”

His eyes locked on mine, wide and serious, searching one last time for doubt.

There was none

He nodded, jaw tight, and reached between us to guide himself.

I held tight to his shoulders, breath caught, heart pounding.

And then he pressed forward.

Slow. Careful. Measured.

The head of his cock parted me, and I gasped— the sound loud, involuntary— as slick heat met slow stretch.

It was obscene.

The sound of it, wet and raw, the mix of his spit and my arousal clinging to every inch of him, sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through me.

The stretch was real, but not cruel. My body remembered the prep of his fingers, welcomed the intrusion— but he was thick, and I felt everything.

His eyes never left my face, watching for any flicker of pain. His brow knit, concerned, but I nodded, breathing through it, keeping myself open.

Then he paused. Froze inside me.

His hand slipped between us, thumb circling my clit with that same perfect, practiced touch.

“Baby?” he whispered, low and tender, soothing me through the pressure.

I winced, but only for a second.

Then something shifted.

My body adjusted. My muscles relaxed. I exhaled, slow and deep.

“I’m okay,” I whispered. “Keep going.”

He kissed my jaw and pushed in deeper.

My breath hitched as he filled me further— the stretch no longer sharp, just thick and slow and deep.

I’d imagined this moment so many times, dreamed it, ached for it— but nothing could have prepared me for the intimacy of it.

The warmth. The weight. The way his body pressed into mine like we were meant to fit.

With every slow inhale, every gentle roll of his hips, he sank deeper. And when he bottomed out, when I felt all of him, I moaned— loud, raw— startled by the fullness, the pleasure blooming through me like a slow burn.

And then I looked up.

His face.

He looked at me like I was divine. Like he couldn’t believe this was real.

Like I was the most precious thing he’d ever touched.

Like he couldn't believe he got to have me like this.

My arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a kiss that was all tongue and sighs and messy, flowing heat.

When he bottomed out, Cedric groaned, deep and low, his breath catching as he stilled inside me, forehead pressing to my shoulder.

I clung to him, our hearts beating in tandem, the room wrapped in a silence that felt thick with meaning.

We had crossed a threshold. And something about it felt eternal.

I was full. Stretched. A little sore, but not in pain.

Alive in a way I’d never felt before.

And I needed more.

I shifted, hips rolling slightly, wincing at first— but his hand was already there, thumb returning to my clit like instinct, coaxing me through the resistance, soft and steady.

The second I clenched around him, Cedric let out a guttural sound that shook through both of us. His eyes fluttered shut, mouth falling open like he couldn’t believe how good it felt.

I wanted to see him lose control.

“Please move, Ced,” I whispered, voice wrecked.

His eyes opened— stormy, shining. “Are you ready, angel?”

“Yes,” I breathed. My nails dug into his back. “Please.”

He nodded, kissed my cheek, and pulled back— just a few inches.

But even that small motion stole my breath. The drag, the stretch, the slick slide of him leaving me only to push back in deeper, fuck.

I cried out, the sound torn straight from my chest.

Cedric laughed, breathless, voice shaking with joy, like the sound of me unraveling was the greatest relief.

I giggled, dazed and high, until he thrust again.

And I shattered.

His pace was slow and deep, hips rolling in waves, fucking me with the kind of care that came from knowing someone inside and out.

Each thrust dragged across every inch of my walls, his cock thick and perfect, filling me so completely I could barely think.

He held back, even now. Each movement was deliberate, like he wanted me to remember this feeling for the rest of my life.

“Fuck, Ced...” I moaned, hands twisting in his hair, my legs locking tighter around him. “You feel so good.”

“So do you,” he whispered at my throat, voice rough and reverent, hips moving with more purpose now. “You feel like fucking heaven.”

And that was it.

It wasn’t just lust.

It wasn’t just pleasure.

This was love.

Cedric kissed along my neck, murmuring soft praises between each thrust, and I moaned, quiet and breathy, as my fingers threaded through the curls at the base of his neck.

He rocked into me with that same tender precision, pulling out halfway only to sink back in, and I gasped, chasing every movement like it was salvation.

The pleasure was a slow build now, all-consuming, the kind that spread like honey through my limbs. The stretch had melted into heat, and every deep push made me tremble.

He moved like the moment mattered— because I mattered. Each stroke felt like a promise written into my skin. He wasn't rushing. Wasn't chasing a finish line. He was showing me what it meant to be wanted. Devoted to.

And god, he was so good at it.

When he shifted, adjusted his angle, and found that hidden spot inside me, I cried out.

My body clenched around him, hips lifting, breath shattering into fragments. Cedric groaned, his head dropping as he captured my mouth in a kiss— messy, open, full of heat and soft, breaking sighs.

I gasped his name between kisses, half-sobbing from the intensity, and he could feel how close I was. His hand slipped between us again, fingers finding my clit with infuriating accuracy.

He rubbed soft, steady circles, and my moan tore through the air, echoing off the walls.

When I tightened around him again, he stilled, hips twitching, his forehead dropping to my shoulder with a rough, broken curse.

“Fuck... baby...”

Even now, he was gentle. Like I was glass. Like I mattered more than anything.

But every thrust came packed with hunger. Every slide deeper pulled us closer to the edge.

He wanted me to feel all of it.

And I did.

Every inch.

Every wordless promise.

He filled me completely, made me feel whole in a way I never knew I was missing. Our moans tangled with the soft slap of skin on skin, bodies rocking in that sweet, aching rhythm.

“God, I fucking love you,” he groaned, voice cracking open. I gasped, overwhelmed, tightening around him like my whole body had been waiting to hear it all along.

My ankles locked behind his back, pulling him deeper, closer, until I couldn't tell where he ended and I began.

I couldn't speak— I was too full of him, too lost in the heat of his body, but he felt it.

He felt how fiercely I clung to him, how deep my love ran.

His lips trailed fire along my throat, murmuring my name like a prayer, his thrusts just a bit deeper now, enough to stoke the fire curling in my gut.

Our bodies moved together like we’d been made for this. And when his hips stuttered, when he choked on the sound of my name, I knew I wasn’t the only one unraveling.

The golden boy, all charm and poise, undone for me.

It was heady. Addicting.

I arched into him, and he clung tighter, like I was the one holding him together. Every twitch of him inside me, every breathless groan, pushed me higher, faster.

I felt him all the way inside— hard and throbbing, his cock twitching every time I clenched.

He kissed me again, tongue slow, teasing, and when I tried to chase the friction, desperate for more, he gently pressed me down into the sheets, shaking his head.

“Slow, sweetheart,” he gasped, voice shredded. “Want it to last...”

And I nodded, dizzy and aching, trusting him to take me there.

We were a mess of tangled limbs, sweat-slicked and breathless, his forearms braced beneath me as he cradled my body close.

My legs stayed locked around his back, silent in my plea.

Don’t stop, please don’t stop.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, lips at my jaw. “Gonna make you come again, yeah?... You’re so warm for me... so fucking warm, shit—”

His voice cracked, and I felt him tremble.

His cock twitched again, and I knew he was falling apart and trying not to.

He shifted, found that angle— and fuck, he was deeper.

I bit my lip, eyes wide, the sound trapped in my throat.

“You’re doing so good, darling,” he breathed. “So, so good. Such a good girl, (Y/N).” And my body nearly betrayed me right then.

“Ced...” My voice cracked, thick with tears and need. His fingers threaded through my hair, gripping just enough to make me whimper.

"I'm here, love. I've got you.Gonna take care of you. My sweet girl..."

He kissed my cheek. My temple. My mouth.

His thrusts hit that spot again and again, and his words— soft, filthy— pushed me right to the edge.

“Gonna make you come all over me. God, fuck, you feel so fucking incredible...”

Each word was wrecked, each thrust more desperate.

“Come for me,” he groaned. “Wanna feel you fall apart.”

“Please... Ced, please—” He felt it. Every flutter. Every squeeze. Every shattered gasp.

My hands yanked his hair, hard enough to make him grunt, but I needed him to feel how deep it ran. How real this was.

“That’s it, petal,” Cedric gasped, thrusting hard and deep. “That’s it, my love. That’s right. Come for me, angel, come for me.”

And then, everything stopped.

Our eyes locked.

Nothing but raw, burning love.

I cried out, my body seizing as my orgasm ripped through me. Thighs trembling, nails digging into his back, I held him like he was the only thing keeping me grounded.

I moaned his name.

And then— I screamed it.

He buried his face in my neck, bit down gently, and I broke.

Screaming. Writhing. Clutching him like he was air.

My whole body seized, clenching and fluttering around him as I shattered, crying out with a force I didn’t know I had.

He held me through it.

Murmuring praise.

Kissing my skin.

Letting me break completely.

“You did so good for me, my gorgeous girl,” he whispered.

And with one last thrust— deep, final, full— he groaned and spilled inside me.

His whole body trembled as I felt him pulse deep inside, warmth flooding me, a final wave of pleasure closing over us both.

I kissed his throat, his shoulder, murmuring his name, our bodies twitching with the last aftershocks.

He collapsed over me, face tucked into the curve of my neck, breath ragged.

“Oh, thank you,” he sighed, and something about it, something honest and sweet and overwhelmed, made me giggle.

He started laughing too, quiet and breathless, and we stayed like that— shaking with joy, tangled in the sheets, tangled in each other.

When he finally pulled out, we both whimpered, and I flinched at the emptiness. But he was already pulling me into his arms, wrapping me up like something precious.

His eyes met mine like I’d hung the stars.

Blushing, I kissed his nose. Then his lips.

“I love you so much, Ced.”

“I love you, darling.”

He held me close, our limbs entwined beneath the blankets, and I buried my face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in like he was home.

With him, I felt safe.

Wanted.

Loved in a way I’d never known before.

So I stayed there.

Wrapped in him.

Exactly where I belonged.

✩ next chapter: winter break 94' ✩

♱ 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ♱ thank you so much for signing up! if you’d like to be added or removed, feel free to shoot me a message or visit the taglist form 💌

@yuveyoo, @milkpeanuts476, @iwannabeapinkaesthetic, @eviaroy

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ohsohoney · 7 months ago

Text

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Ten

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Later than usual, sorry! But I've been busy with a whole load of shit ngl, it's just been stress:) Let me know if anyone else wants to be added to the taglist though, I realise my updating is a bit sporadic? Maybe? Just a little? Lmao, anyway here's 10, hope you enjoy!

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

Jacket potatoes were a fucking delicacy.

Any Brit back home would tell you that. You could top ‘em with all sorts; Chilli, Tuna, Cheese, Chicken, Stuffing, Coleslaw, Bacon, Gravy, Bolognese— some people even liked them plain. But my favourite, as well as the only real and true way to serve a jacket potato, was with an ungodly amount of butter and baked beans.

Being in the States, it was a rather hard dish to come by. But, seeing as Marshall always appeared to go above and beyond, beans (No, none of that shoddy American shit) could be found in the little basket he’d gone and gifted me the day before. A little wicker bowl full of goodies to soothe that little ache of homesickness.

I smacked the can down onto the countertop and levelled Rosie with a long stare.

“You’re serious?” She asked me around a wary glance, extending her arm out cautiously to get a better look at the bright blue tin as though she thought the contents might just reach out to try and grab her back.

“Deadly.” I remarked, attempting to keep my smile hidden when I met her question with a raised brow, “You’ll love it.”

Rosie didn’t look too convinced about that fact and yet, she rolled up her sleeves and took a seat at the counter to watch me work, helping out with the few things that she could.

She had waltzed in through the front door a while earlier, just a second after I’d made it up the stairs, and the grin she’d worn when she had spotted me had had my heart warming and the pair of us wandering into the kitchen, arm in arm and already talking at a mile an hour.

I was sauteing some mushrooms in a pan after having peeled and diced them up, whilst she kept a keen eye on the warming potatoes. “So Dad’s finally found some inspiration then?” Rosie asked me after a while, peering into the oven.

I smiled when I peered over at her, seeing how the orange glow of it washed over the side of her face to softly illuminate her features. “Seems so, we got a lot done but he was on a roll by the end of it.” I told her in reply, shaking the pan again and blinking at the sizzle that sparked up, “What do you mean anyway? Finally.” I dragged out that last word in a small singsong which made her chuckle as she stood to her full height once more and turned.

“He’s been trying to write for a couple weeks now, I think. Or months.” She shrugged, stepping back to watch the mushrooms fry with a slight wrinkle of her nose, “Not sure, but he keeps complaining about it whenever he’s on the phone.”

With a small hum, my eyes flickered back over to her, then to the pan again, “He didn’t mention it.”

Rosie blew out a faint chuckle and leant back against the counter, knuckles wrapping around its edge, “Why would he? He hates jinxing himself.”

It was cute that she noticed things like that about him, something I’d begun to note in the short time I’d been staying with the two, but I didn’t know... A large part of me wished that Marshall would have said something about it before, or at least alluded to it. It made me feel a bit bad for bowing out so early now.

Still, my mind was quickly recaptured by the task at hand and then the story that Z deemed to tell me about, apparently a teacher thought that one of her friends was a shoo in for these auditions that they had coming up soon. The familiarity of the scene made me think back to Lottie, to everything that was happening back home, and I wished, silently and not for the first time, that it could be possible for a person to exist in two places at once.

The spuds took their time baking but soon enough they were ready and piping hot, fluffy on the inside and with a crisp exterior. Rosie gathered up the butter and cheese at my signal, face lighting up at the prospect of being able to drown her own in the latter, whilst I pinched the tops of the spuds with a clean tea towel and plated them up, spattering them with a small amount of herbs.

I was going to keep Marshall’s wrapped up in tinfoil, if only to save it from going all horrible before he had the chance to try such a delicacy, but thankfully he’d worked his way back up the stairs just in time. I wondered how he’d managed it.

“Hey, you’ve got table duty.” Rosie exclaimed as soon as she saw him bustling over the threshold, handing the cutlery she was already holding to him without a second thought, which caused Em to blink down at his hands whilst he struggled not to drop the sudden weight he'd just been shafted with.

“‘Scuse me?” Marshall prompted, brow furrowed as his gaze wandered about the rest of the kitchen. I wondered what he thought of the bubbling pot of red sauce sitting on the hob, as well as the absurd amount of butter both Rosie and I had already lumped onto our steaming plates.

“You can set the table, Dad.” Z explained as she jumped back to help me with the mushrooms, her voice edging the line of a whining lilt, “We cooked! So it’s only fair.”

Marshall stared at her for a second longer before he ultimately snorted, “Right.” He murmured, recapturing his hold on the silver he held and eyes finding mine, before he spun round on his heel and left the room once again with a small smirk. When he returned, his plate was almost ready and just about to be loaded up with– “The hell’s that?”

I withheld my snarky reply in favour of smirking when Rosie answered for me, her eyes widening in the face of her father’s obvious leery expression. “Beans, Dad. El told me it’s one of her favourite meals, she wanted to share it with us.”

It wasn’t hard to hear the undertone there, the kind that told him to keep quiet on how he felt about the bubbling bowl I was currently holding because Z obviously didn’t want me feeling disheartened in any way. It was adorable, as was the stern face she’d paired with it, the same face that her dad found hard to waver against. His shoulders slumped ever so.

“Right.” He repeated for the second time tonight, dragging the first syllable out a tad, “Looks good?” He tried.

I had to laugh then, “That a question or statement, Mathers?”

His eyes flickered over to meet mine, but I motioned for Rosie to get a start on heaping the cheese we’d grated onto her plate, the girl’s responding grin was giant.

“I–” Em appeared stumped for a split second before he eventually just pressed his lips together and decided to jump in on helping us. Although he did complain when he spotted the frying pan sat off to the side, “Mushrooms too?” But with Rosie’s short warning of Dad, Marshall only appeared to raise his hands in mock surrender and then moved over to grab the plates so that he could carry them off into the next room.

I shared a conspiratorial smile with the younger girl before we followed after him, the three of us settling into the same seats as we had occupied the day before. Marshall still looked wary, even with his beans being hidden beneath a thick layer of cheese that I figured he had reasoned to himself would mask whatever taste was under it, but Z, to my utter surprise, looked ready to dig in.

“Changed your tune there, lovely.” I mentioned with a sly smirk, my gaze lingering on her long enough to catch the sheepish reaction she bore before she just shrugged and dipped her head around a grin, fork already in hand.

“Smells good.” Was the excuse she used and so I softened my face into a smile too.

“Well you helped so of course it does,” I quipped easily, picking up my fork as well before nudging Em’s forearm, “Come on, you big baby. Just try it. If you hate it, I’ll order you whatever you want. On me.”

That had him rolling his eyes, but he picked up his knife and fork with a determined expression.

I bit back a round of chuckles I could feel bubbling in my throat and used my chin to getsure for the pair of them to get stuck in. Rosie was quick to tear into hers and I was silently thankful for the way the potato easily broke apart under her knife, its texture fluffy and golden.

“Oh wow, this is so good.” She blew out the second that she could, already moving onto her next bite whilst Marshall was still working his way up to trying his own. “When you first showed me those beans? I was so sure I was gonna puke.”

I snorted quietly at that image, perfectly content with the plate of home I’d gone and conjured up for us, whilst Em’s face wrinkled. “Well if you had hated it, you’d have only had your Dad to blame, he’s the one who bought them.”

“I jus’ looked up British shit, they were top five on every list.” Marshall defended before he finally took a bite, slow in the way he raised his fork to his mouth, his eyebrows raising a little as he let the taste settle in, “Shit.”

My eyes narrowed a tad around the smile that I was chewing on to keep hidden but I watched him cut further into the potato, beans and melted cheese puddling around the sides. “That a good shit or bad shit?”

“Three dollars.” Z acknowledged, voice muffled by the food she still had in her mouth.

I laughed at that and shook my head in fond amusement before I turned to Em for an answer. He took another bite, a big one, something I took to be a good sign, and just nodded. My brow quirked in hope. “So good?”

He hummed, one shoulder shrugging, “Ain’t gone die if I finish it.”

Snorting, I could only shake my head at him, hiding my smile behind my fist. “Idiot. You like it.”

Marshall rolled his eyes, though the gesture was obviously fond as he raised his fork to point at me, “Just grateful you didn��t burn down my damn house.”

Rosie’s giggles filled the room and with them we all settled in to enjoy. Marshall asked after his daughter’s day and the girl was all too happy to ramble and rant to him, face lighting up at the prospect of it. She mentioned her English lesson, the book they had started on and how her teacher had explained this one paragraph to her class, then she went into detail about the play that was set to happen just before the Christmas break. I chimed in here and there, putting in my two cents where it was worth, but in truth, I was perfectly content to simply listen and watch on.

The clean up that followed was mainly made up of me and Z messing around and singing to the music Em had stuck on, never the type to linger in silence. The pair of us did manage to rope the man into joining us once he had loaded up the dishwasher though, something he thoroughly complained about but followed through on all the same. He was just a sucker for his kid's smile, I reckoned, went above and beyond for the girl and it was all too easy to see.

It was a lot later that we all fell into a comfortable silence around the tele, Rosie sat crossed legged on the sofa with her homework whilst I offered help whenever asked. Marshall had joined the two of us a little later, after his phone had rang and he’d stepped out to take the call, he’d padded into the room with only the explanation of ‘Royce’ before he’d fallen into the seat beside me. I’d hummed but was too distracted by Rosie’s newest question to prod him further on it.

By the time she had finished up, handwriting practically perfect, her books had fallen into a heap on the coffee table and she’d slowly but surely scootched her way further up the sofa. I kept my eyes on the tele when I’d outstretched an arm in quiet invitation but hadn’t missed the grin she’d given in turn before she’d settled into my side, head coming to rest on my thigh. I caught Marshall’s watchful stare from out of the corner of my eye but didn’t glance back over, smiling at the scene that played out on the screen whilst my hand smoothed over the girl’s hair.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed between us before Marshall’s quiet cough broke the peace we’d since created, but the sky was more of a hazy cast of dark blue now rather than the ruddy auburn that had lined it much earlier. I stifled a small yawn.

Rosie sniffed softly in my lap, twisting a tad to cast her Dad a quizzical glance. Throughout the duration of the film that Z had picked out for us to watch, the man had gotten close enough that he now only had to drop his shoulders to poke at her cheek.

“Bath and bed, kid.”

The scrunch that overwhelmed Rosie’s face at the order had me grinning and so I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before moving my hand to pat her shoulder. “Up and at ‘em, soldier. Heard what the old man said.”

“Do I have to?” Z huffed, just as a hand came up to rub at her eye. Marshall’s mouth ticked ever so slightly into an amused smirk, his fingers replacing mine in an effort to smooth the front of her hair.

“School tomorrow.” He reminded her all too gently, dropping his hand lower to shuck the underside of her chin which only made the girl smile sleepily. “You know the deal.”

She sighed heavily in retort, but did eventually make the move to push herself up and out of my lap, legs stretching across the couch cushions before her feet found the floor. It was just as she went to stand that she turned to face me though, her expression a little meek but rapidly losing the residual somnolence it had just held. “Will you do my hair again for me tomorrow?”

I was caught by surprise at the question she’d asked. I wouldn’t lie, but I didn’t let the reaction show as I smiled warmly back at her, reaching out to tap a finger on the top side of her hand, “‘Course. Anything you want, lovely.”

Rosie’s little grin had her eyes squinting and forced the corners of her mouth to pinch upwards in a move that only deepened her dimples. She leaned over to give me a hug of thanks, whispering the word into my ear before she pulled away and rounded the sofa, kissing her Dad’s cheek on her way out.

“No messin’ about, Z. An early night, ‘kay?” Em reminded her, leaning against the back of the couch so that he could tilt his head far enough to see her, “I’ll be up soon.” He added, his words met by another charming grin whilst she shook her head in fond exasperation and slipped out of the room, leaving just the pair of us and the tv.

It was a long while before Marshall disturbed the quiet once more, the film we’d been watching had finished some time ago and so now all that was playing on the screen was a couple repeats of South Park and the odd advertisement. “She’s different with you.” I heard him voice.

With a furrowed brow, I let my head turn to find him. He was perched in the same position he had been, but now with an arm stretched along the back of the sofa and a knee bent to fill the small gap that still separated us. “What d’you mean?”

When he replied, it was low and soft, a murmur if not for the sincerity behind it. “She don’t act like that ‘round nobody.” He told me, fingers jumping in a steady rhythm on the back of the cushion, his eyes peering between mine. “Me, sure. She’s a fuckin’ koala when she wants to be, but with other people… it’s something she second guesses.”

His words confused me. Or rather, threw me. “I don’t get it.”

He dropped his gaze, blowing out a small but mirthful huff through his nose, his thumb dragged along the edge of the sofa. “You known her what, three days? And she don’t think about gettin’ close to you. Sure she’ll be coy with it, sly even, but that’s ‘cause she don’t wanna overstep with you. Like that right there–” Em said, getsuring his chin out towards my lap, I followed the gesture, then blinked back up at him, remembering the way she’d approached me, “She don't do that with people.”

My face must have given away to the fact that I was still trying to process the weight of what he meant, because his smile was soft, warm even.

It made me think of Lottie, who was always so open with her affection, who gave it out without thought or focus, her smile always great, always there. Then of myself. I tended to avoid affection where it mattered, a reason as to why I’d never let many people too close to my heart, why I hadn’t had something fulfilling to divulge when Marshall and I had spoken about past exes, I supposed. It baffled me to see some of the same tendencies I’d shown growing up in Rosie, in a girl too sweet, too loving, too happy to be so aware of how to guard herself.

I looked to him again and let him have his fill, allowed him to see how his words, the sentiment behind them, had pierced through the armour I’d long since moulded around myself.

One side of his mouth lifted and he used the hand resting on the back of the sofa to circle my wrist, leaning in a little closer, filling that previous gap. “Ro’s had her mom, her sister. They’ve been there. They love her, and she loves them. I know that. But with Kim, it ain’t always parentin’, it’s fun and games. It’s showin’ off, not showin’ up. It’s messin’ around until she finally grows–”

He paused there, eyes flickering left and then right as his tongue swiped over his lower lip, almost as though he was resentful of the term he wished to use.

He settled for, “Bored. Or maybe jus’ tired, you know? She’s there until it's her time to step up and do the job she’s ‘sposed to, til it's missed recitals and forgetting pick-up, that’s when she reacts. Pulls away.”

He sighed, gaze caught on his fingers, on the easy way they engulfed my wrist. His thumb brushed over the freckle that dotted the bone, and continued on through a slow exhale, “Ayla, she’s a lot older. She does her own thing, she’s got school, work, friends. Z obviously filters into all that, but there's always been a small divide. I like to think it’s just ‘cause of their ages– it’s how me and Nate worked growin’ up, you know? But there’s this whole idea that fuckin’ messes with my head, like maybe it's all down to me. Ayla’s my niece, but she’ll always be one of my own. I love that girl as much as I love Rosie. More than life itself. But I know I hurt her, havin’ her here, watchin’ me fail and fuck up whilst she was growin’ up. And jus’, maybe I can’t help but wonder if I ever let her know that enough, that I loved her, if it’s that that’s impacted her relationship with Z.”

I was quick in my attempt to soothe his doubts, the hand he didn’t hold jumping over to lay across the top of his own. “I’d call you an idiot, but I reckon you already know that.” I chuckled halfheartedly, though my smile was genuine when his eyes snapped up to meet my own, “You’re an amazing father, Em. I honestly believe that with my whole heart. And it doesn’t take much to see it either. I mean, I was here not even a day and was so quick to see the love you held for your daughter. I saw it in your reactions too when we called, when you spoke of them, however brief it was. I haven’t met Ayla but I don’t think I’d have to for me to see that your worries are just that, worries. I’m sure that girl loves you in the very same sense that I am sure that she knows you love her. That you see her as much more than just your niece.”

My thumb trailed over the back of his hand, skimming knuckles, taking in their slight discoloration, the faint white lines that could have only been age old scars. I dipped my head a tad so that my gaze could align with his shadowed blues, prompting him into lifting his eyes from off the floor.

“I’m also honoured that you think Rosie’s comfortable enough around me to mention the gravity behind it, that you’d trust me with her company, let alone her affection.” I said sweetly, gifting him another smile, it was close lipped but one that appled my cheeks. His stare caught onto it, fingers tightening around my wrist by a fraction in a squeeze that showed only his appreciation. So I squeezed back, fingers fastening over the top of his fist. “Z’s hard not to love, she’s all of your best parts and more. Sometimes…”

I took a small breath, fretful over saying what I had intended to until Marshall met my flickering gaze once more, silently prompting me on. I swallowed thickly, feeling the force of it travel through my throat, but did follow through, “Sometimes it’s just hard raising kids, I guess not everyone’s made out for the harsher reality of it all. Of having to be a parent and not a friend. I mean, it was forced on me in a way, I’ve been raising my siblings since Danny the day came along, since before I knew what being a mum meant. What one was.” The weight of that admission had me reeling for a split second, at the truth it held. But I pursed my lips before allowing my eyes to find Marshall’s once more, “Kim, I’m sure she tries, I’m sure it’s more than my mum ever did, ever could do, but it’s okay for you to fear that it’s not enough for Z, too.”

Marshall worked his jaw, blinking for a second before he eventually spoke, voice rasping with the emotion he felt. “Kid deserves the world.”

I found myself grinning at that, the teary kind which glossed over your eyes but was strong enough that you couldn’t prevent the fluid motion of it. It was without thought that my arms came up to wind their way around his neck and I relaxed further in the gesture when I eventually felt his face come to rest against my shoulder.

“She does.” I murmured, hand cupping the back of his neck, fingers resting over the fine hair which lined his nape. “She does.” I heard myself repeat again as my eyes slipped closed.

When we parted, I watched as Em knuckled the corner of his eye, grunting faintly to clear his throat and rid the room of any tension that then clouded us. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch, but did look away towards the tele when he started to shift once more, giving him a sense of security that he hadn’t been caught out, that I wouldn’t dig too deeply into his reaction.

“Thanks.” He murmured after a stunted moment and it was only then that I glanced back over to him. I smiled in turn.

“Nothing to thank me for.”

When we parted ways for the night, I chose to head on up to bed, mind so full of thoughts that I found it hard to latch onto a singular one, whilst Marshall stopped at the bottom of the staircase to gift me a quiet goodnight, eyes caught on the reflection of moonlight that crept its way across my cheek, the sight mirrored on his own face.

I didn’t know it then but I would eventually, he’d never felt so inspired.

So as I’d slipped beneath my duvet, my mind stuck on the words we’d shared, Marshall was back down in the studio, writing away once more. But this time, it was for a completely different reason.

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majorproblems77 · 1 year ago

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Hello LU fans! I'm back with another LU update analysis! :D

Are you ready cause there's so much to unpack I'm gonna be here a while. Like last time I'm gonna put a timer on lmao, see how long this takes me.

As always grab your popcorn and drink of choice, cause we need hydration in this life.

all art belongs to @linkeduniverse and Jojo, and if I pull panels from any other pages I'll let you know where it's from! :D

Obviously spoilers for Dawn 8 :D

And a note, I've not played TP or WW, you'll see why thats important later.

Let us begin, shall we!

Man, Poor wild, he's probably beating himself up like there's no tomorrow right now. He looks HORIFIED.

Probably because in technicality, he failed.

I love how he's holding his sword here too. Kinda acting as a shield to the conversation.

Same expression as wild. He also looks horrified. Infact the resemblance between these two in uncanny.

Man time really is the dad isnt he. Unimpressed dad look at 12'oclock. Jokes aside he doesn't look angry about it. He looks like he now gathering information from those who finished the fight. As we know once he left with Twilight he was the only other one to not make it back to the fight.

Thats a fair sentence, thinking about it, I think the only other game where Iron Knuckles appear is in one of Hyrule's games? I'm surprised he's not mentioned anything about it.

Most of the others do have armoured enemies though. So while the others dont have direct experience I assume they have the basics.

All but, Sky and Wars None of them fight armoured enemies like that in their games.

I assume because he's defeated this thing like it was a guardian (Stasis and then wailing on it cause that's what i would do lmao) He assumed it was defeated when it exploded into pieces. Like guardians are prone to do. tbh he was probably gonna go back to look for loot at some point.

You tell them Wind. The small hero, underestimated by everyone BUT Time. Was correct thank you.

Justice for the windy boy.

God Wild really is beating himself up about this. I love the fact that we see four's reaction to this statement. As to be honest. Over the last few nights, Four and Wild have had plenty of bonding moments. These guys are gonna become best friends.

And now we get Time.

The way he's looking over these panels. That look. He know's he's the leader of this group but something that Time isn't used to is making Permanent mistakes.

He has the Ocarina of Time, and when he was back in Termina every time something went wrong he could just play the song of Time and restart the three-day cycle with no trouble at all.

Time, as a person. Isnt technically used to failing.

This panel is stunning. It's what I assume is going on inside his head. It's so pretty. It's so detailed it's just oh man easily one of my favourite panels.

now you know i had to talk about panels with my beloved blorbo in.

first off he's so pretty. Jojo has really outdone herself with just how amazing these updates have looked. The lighting the shading its all just so incredible.

The first half of this panel with Sky's face. He, He is beating himself up about the injury. He had nothing to do with it but he cares so much about the rest of the group he feels bad. He kinda looks like he's thinking about it. Like he can see it. Like time did but we dont see inside Sky's head.

Makes me think about what exactly he saw.

And Twilight's face, he looks so sad. His little pout. Poor wolf boy, which we can now call you properly as the rest of them know now.

And to be honest I'm glad he's standing his ground. Mr, My injury isn't that bad before falling over. the stubborn ranch hand strikes again.

The parallels from this frame and the one from later have been mentioned elsewhere but I'm just gonna post the frame here as it's turned up. Run you coward lizard. Run.

Captain link is back. Poor warriors, he's still showing signs of being stressed. He's one of the only one's who hasn't been able to rest over the downtime that they've had. He's been busy being in charge of the group while Time was out.

I can only assume it's only a matter of time before this comes back to get him. Maybe he is next on the chopping block? (Pun kinda intended) Something could happen and he messes up and gets hurt of causes someone to get hurt.

oh and also

THE SCARF

THE SCARF THE SCARF

IT HAS RETURNED ALL HAIL THE BLUE EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BLANKET WARRIORS NEEDED YOU.

None of us did, Hyrule.

The boys ever, I'm glad they are talking about this like this. And that it's legend who's starting to throw ideas out there like this. As the one who's got the most experience in the group, it makes sense that he would be the one to start offering ideas as to Why not just how.

Because you pissed it off Sky. Because half of you pissed it off. In fact I do believe he had a bunch of panels in Shifting Shadows pt2 where you indeed pissed it off.

The entire reason it started running from you and Twilight had to track it was because of FI's reaction to his sword.

Wait... that explains the guilt. It is actually potentially Sky's fault. Or if he's anything like I think he is. He remembers that fight with the shadow and knows.

He knows.

Also, with clenched fist Sky is ready for a fight. Next time the shadow turns up I assume he's gonna go after it when it's inevitablebly goes after Twilight/Wild. Maybe he'll jump in after being told not too because the Master sword appears to be the only thing as of right now that can fight the red stuff that comes off the shadows sword.

did you hear Warriors shiver? I did.

And you'd know all about that wouldn't you Four. :D

Also

Mandatory Sky appreciation picture

Him's my beloved blorbo. He's wonderful. Such a lil guy. Bestest bean. My beloved. /pl

Anyway moving on

Oh yeah, the amount of power that the items list contains We've seen the arsenal that they have between them (in the December art).

We saw what just Time could do.

Now add the rest of them and the enemies dont stand a chance. They've just gotta figure out how to either avoid the weapons of each other or work as a team with the arsenal in hand to fight better.

Like imagine if Twilight used his gale boomerang to send Wild into the air.

(Writer brain go brr, gonna write that down)

It's basically Revalis Gale.

This man is so damn dramatic I love him

And here's the parallel frame

the shadow running towards Warriors vs running away from Twilight.

You know thinking about it... Shadow didn't shapeshift until Twilight did. The push towards Warriors was when shadow thought they were on level footing.

But when Twilight went after Dink, he was the one who had to flee because he lost his advantage.

ANGRY SKY ANGRY SKY ANGRY SKY

The man is pissed that Shadow hurt Twilight. He is so damn mad and I think that he is saying what he would assume Fi would. (With more emotion because well, Fi)

Also that last frame.

TIME AND SKY ANGST ON THE HORIZON?

time is looking towards the master sword. And he looks angry. This will absolutely have gone unnoticed by the others because if they saw he was angry it was probably just because of the conversation topic.

god I love the dynamic here and I'm excited to see if it goes anywhere

Him's I love his simple way of agreeing its wonderful.

I approve to wind let's go blow some stuff up!

Hyrule shows the group why he is called the traveller. The man just wants to go on his adventures let him go!

Sky is so proud of himself

this face says 'Look guys I didn't give it to the weird toilet hand! :D'

I love this man a healthy amount.

One last thing before I go

I love this update as a whole, seeing the group gear up and getting to see the layers of the armour and straps and fastenings being put on while they are having this discussion is amazing.

I'd give you a collection of pictures but Tumblr is being rude and I can't post more than 30. So you can have these as all four panels show what I'm talking about.

Twilight adjusting his gauntlets warriors adjusting his scarf.

Hyrule attaching his shield to his back and putting his sword strap on.

God, I love this update so much. It was amazing and I very much enjoyed it. Let me know what you think! :D

Thank you as ever for reading my rambles i appreciate you :D

Have a wonderful day and dont forget to hydrate! See you next time!

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stu-dyingstudent · 9 months ago

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Sakura fic recs: captured on a mission/mission gone wrong

Okay, I'm going to be completely honest with y'all, I'm really just recommending stuff by my favorite tropes lmao. Quite honestly, mission gone wrong just makes things so much more entertaining. Poor Sakura though, this girl just can't catch a damn break.

Now, I should point out that there are MANY Sakura fics out there were the mission goes wrong, but in this list I am only going to put ones where that is the primary focus of the series.

Started: 2024.07.23

Last Updated: 2024.07.25

note: feel free to check out my master list which has a bunch of Sakura Haruno fic recs (all organized)!

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Survival of the fittest - cywscross || ao3 || T || shikasaku || mission gone wrong || one shot

Sakura is thirteen, still a Genin, lost in the middle of Earth Country, lugging an unconscious Chuunin around, and so far beyond scared that she’s moved right on to pissed off.

Survival of the Fittest is a fabulous one-shot that follows the trouble that Sakura and Shikamaru find themselves in after accidentally landing themselves in Iwa. This story depicts the characters truthfully and fully conveys exactly how hopeless they feel in their situation. I highly recommend.

The Ocean is Deep and Dark - Pleasedial123 || ao3 || M || captured || complete

Gato doesn't trust Zabuza to get the job done. Instead he sends a team of thugs to ambush the Bridge Builder on his return to Wave. Team Seven, exhausted from their fight and Kakashi still unconscious, is separated. Sakura gets captured.Terrible things happen to pretty girls in the hands of men like Gato and his thugs.But Zabuza puts his claim in first and suddenly Sakura isn't the prisoner of a civillian businessman and his hired muscle. Suddenly she's Momichi Zabuza's.

I won't lie, I have a soft spot for fics that take place during the land of waves arc, especially when they focus on Sakura's growth. I love how Zabuza was portrayed in this as although he wasn't necessarily a bad guy, he wasn't a good one either. He simply has morals. Sakura's fear in this is also quite raw and eye opening as it covers a theme that isn't ever covered in the original series. The reality is, the world is not kind to women, and a captured young female ninja is most certainly going to be at some untasteful risks. Oh, team 7's concern was also pretty touching ngl.

With Every Beat - halfdemonfan || ffn || sasusaku || M || canon divergent || incomplete

Pain can come in various forms. Sakura had suffered all of them; but with the war raging on she found the torture would continue.

If I'm completely honest, With Every Beat probably isn't the best rec for this trope since from what I remember Sakura is not captured for too long. I never did get very far reading this so I don't have too much to say, but it takes place during the war arc and is an interesting take.

Ripples - Yellow Mask || ffn || sasusaku || T || captured || complete

Following a botched mission, Sakura is made a slave by Sound, a position that could very well alter the future…especially concerning a certain familiar missing-nin.

Ripples is probably one of the og mission gone wrong/captured Sakura fics, as far as I am aware, but it's pretty good! On her way back from a mission, she manages to get captured and is taken to Orochimaru's hideout. Super interesting to see as Sasuke is still with the sanin at this time.

The Pack Survives - ihopethelightwillshineupon || ao3 || team 7 || mission gone wrong || complete

When a simple C-rank mission turns into a straight-up nightmare, the members of Team Seven narrowly escape with their lives. They end up stuck in the middle of nowhere, each of them injured and forced to rely on one another for help.They’ve only been a team for a couple of weeks, still distant from one another, still trying hard to prove themselves. But when they’re all hurt and struggling desperately to survive, they have no choice but to lower their walls.Stranded far away from the village, Team Seven fights to get back home safely – but with help impossibly far away, with their food supplies shrinking and with their injuries slowing them down, their journey becomes more difficult with every step.In the wake of their struggle, though, their bonds grow steadily stronger.

Sakura is not the main character in this one as it it more focused on team 7 as a whole, but she still has some great development! Essentially, in typical team 7 fashion, they find themselves in a bit of a pickle during a mission and it results in some great bonding between them.

An Inch of Gold - KuriQuinn || ffn || sasusaku || T || mission gone wrong - time travel AU || complete

Team 7 is sent on a mission to investigate a disturbance outside of the village, where they encounter an unconscious girl in a crater. The mysterious Sarada insists she's a shinobi from the Hidden Leaf trying to rescue her teammates. When the team discovers she possesses a Sharingan, things become even more unbelievable. [Part of the Legacy of Fire Series]

Somehow, the Boruto and Naruto timelines interconnect and Sarada literally falls into team 7's mission. Things only get worse from there. The writing captures the personalities of the characters so well and I'm a complete sucker for the whole Sarada meets Sakura and Sasuke trope!! Sasusaku is super cute in this (while being realistic) and I love how Kakashi is such a shipper. Also, this is a multiple perspective fic.

Dirt and Ashes, or: The One-and-a-Half Body Problem - Tozette || captured || gen || M || canon divergent || complete

The invasion of Konoha during the chuunin exam didn't fail. Team seven is broken, people are dead, and Sakura is hurt and frightened and a very long way from home.Alternative summary: In which Sakura carries half of Hidan across two countries, leaving a trail of blood, bodies, and other people's legs.

This one is pretty gross tbh, but I highly recommend!

Only a Crush by Gingersoup || ao3 || kakasaku || M || canon divergent || complete

It was supposed to be an easy, fun night out. She never intended to wake up in her sensei's bed, half-naked and with no memory of what happened the night before! As she tries to unravel the mystery of that night, something sinister is growing beyond the walls of the Leaf Village... and what was only a crush spirals wildly out of control.

I can't really say much without spoiling, but Sakura is unwillingly thrust into the world of illegal drugs, trafficking, and sex all while coming to terms with her new feelings regarding her former sensei. I typically don't like kakasaku, but I think this work is done tastefully well. The characters are both adults and the immorality of the relationship is not ignored, so be prepared for a lot of "we can't," "this is wrong," etc.. Anyway, Sakura is an absolute powerhouse and I thoroughly enjoyed the relationship between all of the different characters and villages!

Got Nothing to Prove (but I'ma show you how I do) - GuardianMars || ao3 || gen || T || mission gone wrong || incomplete

Civilians and orphans are always used as cannon fodder. Sakura’s not sure where she first came by this phrase. Whether she heard it or read it, she can’t quite remember, but it stuck in her head and it stays in the back of her mind whenever Team 7 takes a mission. When Sakura and Tenten get placed on a temporary team looking into a series of kidnappings of local village girls, Sakura is naturally worried. She doesn't want to be cannon fodder. When the mission goes to pot, Sakura and Tenten find themselves far away from home and with only each other to rely on. As it turns out being cannon fodder is the least of their worries.

Genin Sakura and TenTen are sent on a mission due to their unimpressive lineage and things go wrong. This is a bit of a mystery where details of the mission are uncovered as the series progresses and is seen from the prospective of both the girls and their sensei's who are desperately trying to bring them back.

The Storm Beneath - CrimsonEden || ao3 || gen || T || mission gone wrong || one-shot complete

Sakura skidded to a halt. “Sensei?” she choked out, voice raw and painful. Kakashi made no reply. His eyes stared desperately up at her, as if he thought that she was going to disappear if he looked away. One of his hands reached out slowly, like he wanted to touch her face, to check to see did she was really there. His eyes were glazed over and his chest was heaving from the force of his heavy breaths. She stood there frozen, unsure of what to say or do. How could things have gone so wrong? . . . . . A simple mission goes horribly wrong, and Team-7 finds themselves stuck in the wilderness injured and facing Kakashi’s past demons. POV Kakashi and Sakura.

Team 7's mission gone wrong not just lands them in a complete disaster physically and politically, but also uncovers some of Kakashi's trauma. Really well written and focuses a lot on the team bonding, primarily Sakura and Kakashi, which I love.

Team Seven and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Roadtrip -Transformatron || ao3 || gen || T || captured || incomplete

No chakra. No allies. Captured by an unknown enemy a thousand miles from home, Team Seven must work together if they want to survive - which, if you ask Sakura, puts their life expectancy at approximately one week. If she’s feeling generous.

Team 7 is captured and the enemy is trying to get information out of them by any means possible. Follow them as they try to escape.

final exams coming up! - waterpllar || ao3 || gen || M || captured || complete

Kakuzu can name numerous reasons why Hatake Kakashi could make him an excellent profit, most of which involve the numerous organizations he's sabotaged. Specific figures would certainly be willing to pay very well for free reign to relieve their violent frustrations on one of the most notorious jounin in the Bingo books. Such a business would only function with a healer on hand, but it just so happens that a vast majority of shinobi teams have a healer, and there is a pink-haired genin without a bloodline limit or bijuu on the team. What he did not anticipate is that the Copy-nin's teaching might be so remiss that he hadn't trained said genin in any iryo-ninjutsu whatsoever. Kakuzu does not like making oversights, and he decides to remedy this fact immediately (unluckily for sakura).

Kakuzu captured Sakura and Kakashi in an attempt to make money (of course) off of Kakashi's many enemies and Sakura is forced to learn medical ninjutsu in order to keep him alive. Although this is marked as complete and could be considered that to those who read it, the ending is not very conclusive tbh (I wanted more).

Edit: ok this actually just got updated even though it’s marked as complete, so ig it’s still ongoing?? Maybe???

New Day Dawning - IncompleteSentanc (Erava) || ao3 || narusaku || T || captured || complete

One day, while visiting the grave of Nohara Rin, Obito stumbles across a young girl terrifyingly like her. He decides to ensure she doesn’t meet the same fate. As for Sakura? Sakura had no idea what she was awakening the day she went to visit her parents graves - but she never looked back. One way or another.(Feat. Sakura raised by Obito and the Akatsuki, and her eventual return to Konoha and all those she left behind)

Sakura is brainwashed and manipulated, but loved by notorious killers nonetheless. Incredibly well written and I won't lie when I say that the ending took me a bit by surprise.

Your childhood home is just powder-white bones (and you'll never find your way back) - Dovey || ao3 || gen || M || captured || complete

Sasuke is not the only one who worries he's getting too comfortable in his genin life. Itachi decides to add another motivator to Sasuke's revenge plans by kidnapping the teammate who wasn't a charismatic Jinchuriki. Sakura is used to being an objective for those around her, not a person, but even for her this is a little much. In which Sakura is held captive and learns what a genjutsu specialist can do to a person's mind, that sharks can actually make great friends, joins a dying clan, and gets regifted multiple times before she's finally strong enough to fight back. *while this fic contains explicit and graphic torture, there's no sexual assault.

Okay, this was actually a really hard read for me. We truly see Sakura's decline in this as she slowly loses her mind and it is very frustrating to see what has happened to her. Nonetheless, it is extremely well written and great is you want something dark.

Freedom in the Eyes of Another - Oroburos69 || ffn || gen || M || captured || complete

The Wave Mission was a failure. They got caught, captured, taken-it didn't end well. Now Sakura has a half-heard order, uncut fingernails, and more desperation than bravery. One way or another, she's getting Team Seven out today. Complete.

I actually can't believe that I forgot to add this the first time I wrote this list! Anyway, team 7 is captured on the mission to Wave and Sakura takes Kakashi's mumble and runs with it! Pretty interesting as we get some nice team bonding and there are some other popular character appearances too.

----

Like always, please send me recs if you have any!

#anime / manga #manga #anime #naruto #sakura haruno #sakura uchiha #haruno sakura #bamf sakura #naruto shippuden #kakashi hatake #kakashi sensei #strong sakura haruno #sakura fanfic #naruto fanfiction #kakasaku #sasusaku #narusaku

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veneritia · 1 month ago

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when comes the dawn monthly update {3.31.2025}

THE STATISTICS

the draft -> ????*** words written this month -> 5,027 words average word count per session -> 503 words words written this year -> 12,382 words

*** I've had to do some editing/revision so I'm not sure what the actual draft count is. I'm still working on assembling the scenes I've written into chapters so I can get a more accurate count

STORY NOTES

Fenice has been updated with a new ability: ghost vision. Now she has the opportunity to commune with her ancestors. This is not as fun as it sounds when your ancestors consist of kinslayers and their unfortunate victims.

Since Fenice is born with this ability I had to go back and update the earlier chapters to reference and make use of it more which led me to discovering--

how many Act 1 scenes I've completely skipped writing???? Last year I tried writing out of order to help with writers block but wow I left sooo many gaps. And since I'm having a little bit of a block writing some of the more intrigue heavy sections in the recent chapters, I decided to try and go patch up those holes while I try to get over this block.

Also decided to forgo splitting the book into the traditional 3 acts, but instead splitting it into multiple smaller acts

Made some slight tweaks to the reilma-imperessa/imperessor title so that it's something specific differentiate regular imperial heirs from ascended heirs

Aretos is getting a...small change in his backstory, specifically in relation to Fenice, which I hope will add a fun little facet to their dynamic with each other

The King's Game has been renamed to the Agonia

EXCERPT

“A triumph!” Fenice flicked her eyes towards the voice—gone hoarse from endless shouting. Standing atop the railing of her balcony, Saphynia cheered and crowed at the crimson river forming in front of Kaelstanopoli’s western gate. She’s dressed in her muddied and dented armor, helmet held above her head to shield her glass eyes from the sun. “When was the last time we had a proper triumph?” Saphynia’s gravelly laugh clashed sharply with her jovial attitude, cracked lips splitting into a wide grin. “Ah, I remember my own triumphs…to ride at the front of the army, to bear the golden laurel, to be marked in the purple— what I wouldn't give to be there again.” “Did you not celebrate five in your lifetime?” Fenice murmured. “Three of them within the span of a month, too.” Saphynia pivoted on her heel to stare down at her, feet dangerously close to the edge of the balcony, the long braid of her dark hair whipping around her. “Five glorious triumphs, but only five! Enough to whet the appetite but hardly enough to satiate it.” “I never imagined the Iron Queen to be unsatisfied with her victories.” “Ah, child, you know too little. Perhaps you will sing a different song when you’ve experienced the thrill of the entire world knelt at your feet.”

THE BLOG

View the worldbuilding post for The Agonia here. I'm pretty proud with how I fleshed out the history, and it became a pretty chunky post lmao. It includes historical events such as The Decade of Blood and The Era of Three Crowns

Aretos' birthday is April 1st!

I'm planning for the next wip post to be about the imperial titles used by the vi Aetiers but I'm not set on how exactly I want to do it

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-)

@bloomingwrites @writinglyra @zmwrites @trapped-inadystopianovel @inky-duchess @aalinaaaaaa @seasteading @kaatiba @lazulis-stuff @serpentarii @sourrcandy @charlesjosephwrites @marrowwife @forever-and-almost-always @halcionic @caninemotiff @socialmediasocrates @zorya-km @smolandweirdwriter @floweryprosegarden

#wtwcommunity #writeblrgarden #writeblr #collection.my projects #series.wctd #wctd-monthly #wctd.excerpt

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cheegu3 · 2 years ago

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Enhypen - the glory (part 8)

summary; after rejecting one of the most popular boys at your new school, you soon realised that you'd done the gravest mistake of your life; these weren't ordinary boys, and now they were set on making your life a living hell - heavily based on the kdrama with the same name

warnings; swearing, mentions of sexual assault & masturbation, mentions of suicide, stalking, mentions of murder

genre; yandere

wc; 5.3k

pairing; enha x f.m reader

note; not really sure how to describe this chapter, maybe calm and then a storm right at the end ?? LMAO, but anyways thank you as always for your love and support <3 in case you missed it, I will be updating every Sunday now instead of every other Sunday, love youuuu !!

masterlist

You and the officer were pressed into the small space that was the security room in your apartment’s building. The guard was a small and old man far into his seventies who, at first complained about all the ‘’ extra work ‘’ you were giving him.

The nice officer had to show his badge and insist he was interrupting the investigation before he reluctantly sat down and started scrolling through the dates. You stood in silence, watching over his shoulder while the mouse scrolled and clicked frequently.

At last, he seemed to have found what he was looking for. The cursor glided towards a small picture in the corner with the date of the night before, when Jake visited your apartment.

‘’ I will just go through it briefly, ‘’ the old security guard mumbled, shaking his head when he saw just how much footage it was.

The video was fast-forwarded, while you and the officer watched, getting more impatient by the minute. Your eyes never left the screen. Many people who lived in the building passed by the cameras for a moment, it was so fast it was almost hard to tell them apart, but you were sure some of them were neighbors you had seen.

When the time at the bottom of the video got closer to when Jake visited your apartment, you leaned in. A young man with voluminous hair, carrying some bag passed by for a split second.

‘’ Stop! ‘’ you shouted out, startling the guard.

He reversed and slowed it down so you had the opportunity to confirm if it was him. This time when it was at normal speed, it was much easier to see that it was in fact Jake. You watched as he made his way over to your apartment door, strolling all too casually for what he was about to do.

As if he could hear you, his head turned terrifyingly slow towards the camera. He stared into it for several seconds; the camera’s pixels only making him look even more psychotic. An eerie smirk ghosted over his lips, sending shivers down your spine.

Then he rang the doorbell and you spotted your dad. Jake’s entire demeanor switched, too easily, like it was second nature to him now. It reminded you of when you had the altercation with your dad and Jake the same night, and how he’d done it with ease then too. One second, the lustful and cocky eyes to you - the next, the innocent and begging eyes to your dad.

Your dad stepped aside, letting him in. The video had no sound, but you could imagine what they were saying since your dad told you a bit of it. The officer scribbled down something in his notebook, and the three of you kept watching with a newfound sense of focus and bated breaths.

The clock at the bottom said that five minutes had passed. Had he been in there for so long? Your face dropped, no- don’t say he was in your room while touching himself? You couldn’t hold back the loud gag that slipped out.

‘’ Are you okay, miss? ‘’

You nodded to the officer, still not looking away from the screen. The old man pressed on a key and the video sped up again. One minute more passed, then two, and then three. Suddenly, the screen went completely black.

‘’ What happened? ‘’

The keys of the keyboard were pressed rapidly and repeatedly as the guard tried his best to reverse the footage. He tried everything; reversing didn’t work, so he tried going forward, reloading the footage, and even rebooting the computer - nothing worked.

You let out an exhausted sigh. ‘’ The footage is lost? ‘’

‘’ I’m sorry miss, ‘’ he squeaked back in response, now a lot more apologetic than before when groaning about it being a chore added to his daily stress at work.

It was very weird, almost like they knew you’d go back to your building for proof. It made sense however, when it dawned on you that they could’ve seen you at the police station if they were following you and hurried to get here before you and the officer did.

‘’ You can’t get it back? ‘’

The officer hurried to move when you while in distress tried taking control of the computer and almost pushed the security guard off his chair in the process, who only huffed at you.

‘’ Miss, there’s no use, ‘’ he calmly said.

But you felt anything but calm. You started trying to shake him off and break loose, gritting your teeth from how hard you were trying.

‘’ Let go of me! ‘’

The tightness only increased making you groan in pain. The harder you tried to fight him off, the harder he held you in place.

‘’ Miss, if you keep resisting I’m going to have to arrest you for battery against a police officer. ‘’

Your movements stopped and your passionate grimace disappeared.

‘’ What? ‘’

Seeing that you stopped fighting, you were freed. But you didn’t do anything. Your hands fell limp to your sides.

‘’ You scratched me, ‘’ he shrugged.

You almost felt like at a loss for words.

‘’ That’s not a big deal though, right? You’re supposed to be on my side. ‘’

It wasn’t a way of talking to a police officer that most would’ve felt was fine. You suspected that the fact that he was around the same age as you made you see him as an equal, and you hoped it made him want to help you more.

‘’ I’m still following the law. You were being aggressive. ‘’

His voice came out monotone, void of the same empathy it had carried before. For some reason it made you feel like a lump had formed in your throat.

‘’ Can’t you see why I reacted that way though? ‘’ you had to take a deep breath, that sounded very shaky when you felt like you were about to cry. ‘’ No one is helping me. ‘’

The officer looked at you blankly, taking a few seconds to answer. He took off his hat and ran his hand through his disheveled hair.

‘’ There’s not much we can do. We don’t have a warrant to go search his house for the item unfortunately, ‘’ a tear rolled down your cheek as you scoffed in disbelief at the situation.

‘’ For now, we will have to wrap this up. If anything new comes up, call us. ‘’

You had expected him to say that, but it felt so much more painful for it to actually be voiced out. You’d had high hopes for this; even if you didn’t have footage of him holding it, just seeing him leaving your house would’ve made you feel validated because the others saw him too.

It also felt like something huge had slipped right out of your hands. Something that could’ve been used against him in the end, when his support system had been taken down. For a moment you thought of going over to Jake’s house on your own, but you didn’t have any fight in you after everything. The officer told you to go home, and you did so with a heavy heart and dragging feet.

*******

Although it was a school day the next day, you didn’t feel like going. When your dad poked his head in, you were still lying in your bed, head turned away so he couldn’t see the dried tears from the night before.

‘’ I don’t feel good today, can I stay home? ‘’

‘’ Sure, hun. ‘’

You didn’t take sick days often so that was probably one of the reasons he let you this time. The door to your room was left slightly ajar, and it felt calming when he left the house and it was completely quiet. Maybe you could go to your part-time job and ask if they had a shift. You hadn’t gone in a while so some guilt gnawed at the pit of your stomach. But they were a small business that often didn’t ask for help either.

Before that though, you rolled over to the other side and picked up your phone while trying to rub the sleepiness out of your eyes. Several new messages greeted you. The ones from Yeonjun caught your attention in particular.

7:12 am

Grumpy cat: Soobin told me about the company and how we need to destroy them first to get to your bullies. We’re trying that today.

Grumpy cat: Text Yena to go to the building at around 4 pm today, wearing a suit, and make her bring her phone and headphones so we can tell her what to do.

7:43 am

You: How would we even get in?

Grumpy cat: Right under their noses

You: What? How the hell would we do that?

Grumpy cat: Fake it till you make it. Ask Yena if the people at the company would recognize her, otherwise, we’d have to change her appearance a bit.

You: She’s going in alone?

Grumpy cat: We know they’re watching Soobin for certain and maybe you and me as well. Who else could do it?

You: I guess you’re right…But where will we be?

Grumpy cat: The café across the street, I’ll tell you more when we’re there. Bring your school books so it looks like we’re studying and come at 4 pm.

You tossed the phone and slowly got out of bed, stretching and yawning as you did so. Your eyes happened to land on the wall with the post-it notes. It still looked very empty. Likely it would remain that way for a long time unless whatever Yeonjun had planned for the day worked.

Ignoring the homework that was lying on your desk, you went to the kitchen to get some food and get ready for the day. After eating you decided to go for a quick shower.

Everything felt fine at first. You undressed and then stepped in under the hot water that made you wince. Then a thought washed over you, a paranoid one, that made all the hairs on your body stand up.

What if he went in here too and put up one of those tiny spy-cams? You jumped out of the shower, bulging eyes scanning everywhere in the room. Things started to get thrown all over the floor as you went down on your knees to search the cabinets too. You looked there, in the top cabinet, behind the shampoo bottles, and under the folded towels - but nothing. In the end, you just stood there, staring at all the things on the floor and feeling like you were slowly becoming crazy.

Before you let your mind ponder over that thought for too long, you hurried to finish showering at almost record speed and then ran to your room; scared to admit that you imagined cameras all over your house now too.

Within minutes you were out of the door and running down the stairs to get to your part-time job. Just rounding the corner to the last few steps down to the entrance you raised your head and met eyes with Heeseung.

‘’ What are you doing here? ‘’ you complained, a bit breathlessly as you walked right past him.

Heeseung whipped around to look at you. He was a bit confused about where you were going, but a small amused smile still adorned his lips.

‘’ Going somewhere? ‘’

You hesitated. Would he be angry if he knew you weren’t going to school? Heeseung noticed the hesitation and stepped closer, tilting his head slightly.

‘’ Why aren’t you answering? ‘’ a smirk slowly tugged his lips upwards, ‘’ Are you that scared of me too? ‘’

‘’ No! ‘’

‘’ Then what is it? You know we don’t like when you lie, princess. ‘’

You looked at the door, and so did Heeseung. Sensing what you were thinking, he swiftly moved to put himself between you and the door. To make sure you weren’t going to run to another door he put his hand into yours as well.

‘’ Well, wherever you’re going, I’ll come with. ‘’

‘’ What? Fuck no! ‘’

You tried pulling your hand out, but it was no use. The more you struggled, the wider his smile stretched as he watched you silently. Eventually, you let out a frustrated groan like a little child which made him tauntingly say, ‘’ Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it? ‘’

Too riled up to respond you just pushed the door open and stepped out. It was a lot colder than you had expected. You sucked air in through your teeth and scrunched your nose as the wind hit you.

Heeseung rolled his eyes and you felt him move to take off his jacket, he was quicker than you thought, seemingly having read your thoughts again.

‘’ Don’t even think about running away. ‘’

You lied through your teeth, ‘’ I wasn’t. ‘’

The jacket was placed around your shoulders and despite it being quite oversized you happily put it on, sighing in satisfaction at the warmth engulfing you.

‘’ So where are you going? ‘’

‘’ My part-time job. ‘’

‘’ Not school? ‘’

‘’ Is that why you came here? ‘’

‘’ We didn’t think you’d come after your little…tantrum yesterday, ‘’ he snickered.

‘’ It wasn’t a tantrum. Jake was being a bitch, ‘’ you scowled.

‘’ Yeah right. ‘’

You decided to ignore him from then on. If he wanted to come with anyway, that was his problem. Hopefully, he’d go home quickly when he realized you weren’t going to give him attention because really, all of them were starved of just that.

Heeseung had a car waiting outside that drove you to the address of your part-time work. Inside, the warmth of the temperature but also the family working there greeted you. They agreed to give you a shift while eyeing Heeseung curiously who kept saying he was your boyfriend.

No matter how many times you denied it and pleaded with your eyes to them, they still let him stay, sitting at a table where he had a good view of you at all times.

It was hard to ignore both him and your phone simultaneously. There were probably a million messages from Soobin on there asking where you were and if you were okay. Maybe he’d grow sick with worry and skip school to go to your house and see if you were there, only to be met with silence since your dad wasn’t home either.

You served some more customers and then after an internal battle, you picked up your phone during lunch break. Just like you thought, he had sent about a dozen messages, and many more missed calls.

‘’ Who are you texting? ‘’

You were sitting at the same table as Heeseung and although you wanted to not be suspicious, you also didn’t want to risk him seeing the display so you pressed against the wall and turned the phone away.

‘’ A friend. ‘’

‘’ A friend? You have no friends. ‘’

You laughed, feeling offended.

‘’ Yes, I do! ‘’

‘’ Who? ‘’

You hesitated again, chewing at your lip anxiously. Heeseung knew it was a habit of yours so you hurried to answer before he’d point it out or think you were lying.

‘’ S-Soobin…’’

There was no use lying anyway, they already knew about the two of you.

He hummed. You didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed.

‘’ And…what does he want then? ‘’

You scratched the back of your neck.

‘’ Just- asking why I wasn’t at school! ‘’ you exclaimed, a bit too enthusiastically as you were proud of yourself for figuring out what to say mid-sentence.

Heeseung nodded and then didn’t press further. Instead, he started talking about the other guys, right before your break was over and you had to do the last bit of the shift.

‘’ They really miss you. There’s probably not a single day that goes by without them talking about you. ‘’

You didn’t answer, just taking out the distaste you felt, at the poor rice on your plate that you poked angrily.

‘’ Especially Jake, ‘’ he tried to hide the smile that appeared on his face.

‘’ But also Sunoo and Sunghoon. Said they feel like they haven’t seen you in a while, ‘’

He watched you pretending to be very busy with your food and knew how you were feeling on the inside, you didn’t need to tell him.

‘’ We’re thinking of inviting you over again. ‘’

You raised your head to look at him and he looked pleased you were finally paying attention.

‘’ A…sleepover. I think it was Ni-ki’s idea. ‘’

You snorted, ‘’ Ni-ki’s idea? ‘’

He shrugged and smiled. You two almost looked like a normal couple until he had to ruin it, like always. ‘’ Well whatever you think about it, you still don’t have a say in whether to come or not.

You sounded tense, ‘’ Of course not. ‘’

‘’ Did you run into Jiyun yesterday? ‘’

‘’ No…who is that? ‘’

Liar

Heeseung would be sure to remember that for another time. He told you he doesn’t like liars.

*******

You were let go by Heeseung after the shift at your job, saying you were going home. You arrived at the café around the same time as Soobin and Yeonjun did, so you walked together, to a lone table in the farthest corner.

As soon as you sat down, Soobin started talking which immediately had Yeonjun rolling his eyes and pretending to cover his ears.

‘’ How did you run into them yesterday by the way? When you were running from them, ‘’ he asked.

‘’ I ran to the bathroom during lunchtime in case they would try to get to me. ‘’

‘’ And they were waiting outside? ‘’

You laughed humourlessly, ‘’ Yeah, but not for me. Remember that girl in the hospital? ‘’

‘’ With the burn wounds? ‘’

You hummed.

‘’ Her name’s Jiyun. We talked for a bit and that’s who they were waiting for. Seemed like they had her on a tight leash. ‘’

‘’ What did she say? ‘’

‘’ She said I should get closer to them, use them to my advantage. ‘’

‘’ Use them? Did she say how? ‘’ his eyes searched your face, but you were slightly caught off guard by his question and kept your own eyes trained in front of you.

‘’ Yeah, ‘’ you paused, chewing on your lip again, ‘’ Of course she did. To turn them against each other. ‘’

Soobin was quiet, making you feel a bit worried that he was going to press further. Just before you were about to say something again, he answered.

‘’ I guess that isn’t such a bad idea. But, it’s risky- very risky. ‘’

‘’ I’m not sure how to do it though. She didn’t tell me that part, just hope I figure it out quickly for my own sake. Oh, also she warned me about something! ‘’

‘’ A warning? ‘’

‘’ Yeah, she said she apologized for anything happening in the future because she didn’t have a choice. ‘’

Soobin frowned.

‘’ You always have a choice. ‘’

‘’ Not with them, ‘’ you said softly.

As much as you dreaded what she warned you for, you also knew that having been told that beforehand meant you wouldn’t blame her. If put in the same position, with those types of people many wouldn’t feel like they had any other choice, no matter how much they try to insist otherwise from an outsider's point of view.

‘’ Let’s start setting things up. Have you texted Yena? ‘’ Yeonjun interrupted.

You nodded, ‘’ She should be there now. I told her to download that spyware app Soobin sent as well, so you can get to the Wi-Fi through her phone. ‘’

‘’ Good. Tell her to put headphones in, ones with a mic. Then when she has texted that she’s ready we’ll call her and tell her what to do. ‘’

The phone was brought out of your pocket and you sent her a quick text. When she responded you handed the phone to Yeonjun. Soobin put his textbooks on the table and pretended like he was a good student, practically putting his head inside the books.

‘’ That was quick, ‘’ he smirked, pressing the call button.

It was put on speaker so you and Soobin could hear as well. Yeonjun started tapping on his laptop, but you couldn’t see what it was from where you were sitting, just assuming he was preparing everything.

‘’ Hey Yena, ‘’ you said loudly when Yeonjun had been very impolite and not greeted her.

‘’ Hey. I’m outside the building now. I’m guessing I can’t talk much though. ‘’

‘’ Of course not, people would hear you. ‘’

‘’ Thanks, smartass, ‘’ Yena spat back.

You rolled your eyes and angled the phone towards you instead. ‘’ Tell me what to tell her. ‘’

‘’ First, she has to go in and sit in the café near the lobby, it’s open to the public. Eavesdrop employees' conversations. Then, when she sees a group going to the elevators, follow them and pretend you forgot your keycard- even better if they’re a group of men. Act dumb and aloof, but polite. ‘’

You said the same information to Yena who sighed so loudly you grimaced and held the phone away for a few seconds.

‘’ And then what, genius? ‘’

‘’ You go to the highest floor, the rooftop. Again, act the same way and try to find one or two guys, asking how to get the Wi-Fi because you’re a new employee. ‘’

‘’ Will that actually work? ‘’

‘’ I guess we’ll see. Either way, I might still be able to hack into the Wi-Fi as long as you’re there. ‘’

‘’ It will, ‘’ Soobin said, pursing his lips, ‘’ Pretty privilege, ‘’ he shrugged to you and Yeonjun who stared at him.

‘’ Okay, ‘’ Yena took a deep breath.

‘’ I’m going in. ‘’

No one said a word while the sounds of Yena’s heels clacking against the ground echoed on the phone. More and more voices started getting closer, but it was still hard to distinguish what was being said.

‘’ Hi, I’d like to order an iced coffee, ‘’ Yena said, making Soobin almost burst out laughing.

You patted his thigh to make him calm down and focus and it seemed to do the job, he stiffened and went quiet, joining the two of you with listening carefully.

‘’ Okay. That’ll be 7 dollars. ‘’

‘’ Thank you. ‘’

Footsteps could be heard again as she made her way to a table. You could hear from all the noise in the background that she had picked a busier spot to sit in. Your phone pinged with a new message from her, asking if you could hear them.

‘’ Yes, ‘’ you half-whispered, despite knowing she had headphones on.

You increased the volume on your phone and the three of you all leaned in to listen to the strangers’ conversation. It hadn’t been an important part of the plan but hearing a few keywords in the beginning, told you that you had lucked out on listening to the right people.

‘’ Did he say he was going to press charges? ‘’

‘’ Fuck no. You know what happened to the last guy that did. ‘’

‘’ Oh shit! The guy from marketing? ‘’

One of the guys in the group ticked his tongue. ‘’ Yeah, that guy. ‘’

‘’ He wasn’t here for very long. ‘’

‘’ Doesn’t matter. For some, they pick on them from their very first day on the job. It’s usually those that stick out, like speaking out against the CEO’s behavior or the work’s culture. ‘’

‘’ What about him? ‘’

‘’ I think he said something that pissed our boss off during the after-work thing. ‘’

‘’ Was he being weird towards the younger female employees again?‘’

A deep laugh slipped out of someone’s mouth. ‘’ What did you expect? That old man never stopped. ‘’

‘’ Not used to being told off, huh? ‘’

‘’ Yeah. So he bullies the ones who dare to relentlessly at the job. Usually, they quit quietly, but some…’’

‘’ Some…what? ‘’ a younger guy asked curiously.

‘’ Some commit suicide, or try to press charges and they end up dead like that poor guy. ‘’

‘’ And they’re never caught? ‘’

‘’ No. They’re way too good at what they do. There are some rumors that they have a whole team with just assassinators, you know? It always ends up being ruled a suicide and swept under the rug. ‘’

‘’ But if it doesn’t, because some rookie cop tries taking on the ‘ corrupted big CEOs ‘ on his own, then they’ll send some people to the police station, ‘’ a new voice chimed in.

‘’ They have people there too? ‘’

You already knew the answer, but it still felt like a knot in your stomach had formed.

‘’ Yeah. They take care of everything illegal they do and make sure the reports former employees make are never taken seriously. ‘’

‘’ I’ve heard they back up anyone who is connected to the top. ‘’

‘’ Their families and everything too. They might not have good relationships with their kids but at least they can pay their troubles away so they won’t bother them. ‘’

The group roared with laughter. You only scowled at their inappropriate reaction. It didn’t seem like they actually cared that much. They had just accepted it - that’s how it was and would always be.

‘’ Well guys, are we heading back now? ‘’

‘’ Into hell again, ‘’ one groaned.

The other side of the line crackled as Yena hurried to collect her things and get up in time. If she was too slow they would’ve already gone through the barriers.

‘’ Hey guys! Could you wait for me? I’m new here, I just forgot my keycard because I was in such a hurry this morning. ‘’

A few of the guys murmured or grunted in response which made Yena let out a gleeful sound, which was very much not like her.

‘’ Thank you, sweethearts. You are so kind! ‘’ she cooed with a faux, sickeningly sweet voice that made you cringe.

‘’ Of course. If there’s anything else we can help with, just let us know. We’ve all been new at one point, ‘’ one guy joked.

The three of you smiled as the perfect opportunity had just fallen into your lap. Yena didn’t have to go through the hassle of finding new strangers to ask for help from.

‘’ Oh, yes actually, ‘’ it seemed she realized the same thing. ‘’ I need some help with getting the Wi-Fi. They didn’t tell me anything about that. ‘’

It was quiet for some time before they agreed cheerfully.

‘’ Thank you so much! ‘’

‘’ No problem, always happy to help, ‘’ the guy said back, in a very flirtatious way which made Yeonjun gag and look visibly disturbed.

Next, you could hear that she rode the elevator. She got out after saying her polite goodbyes to the others getting off and then she could finally talk since no one was around.

‘’ Do I even need to go up anymore? ‘’

‘’ No, but it would’ve looked too suspicious if you just turned around there, ‘’ Yeonjun said.

‘’ Have you got what you need? ‘’

‘’ Yup. I can see some files on my laptop since you made me get a way into the Wi-Fi. ‘’

‘’ Thank you for doing this, Yena. We wouldn’t have been able to do this without you, ‘’ you filled in.

A loud scoff came from the other side of the line.

‘’ You definitely wouldn’t, I’m too nice. ‘’

You and Soobin looked at each other, both grinning at the very false statement.

You hummed, ‘’ You should hurry home now so they don’t see us together. Make sure to take a route so that you’re not visible to us, because then you’re visible to them too. ‘’

‘’ Got it. I’ll send you more photos in a few days, bye. ‘’

You hung up and then started a timer for ten minutes. It was just to be sure there was no way you’d run into her, although if the worst case was to happen you could probably just pretend you didn’t know each other; mostly, you were worried about them seeing Yena near Jay’s dad’s building as it might make them think something was wrong.

While the three of you anxiously waited for the timer to ring, Soobin and you collected your things and Yeonjun tapped away on his laptop. After finishing with the last few things you leaned forward to try and look at what he was doing.

‘’ What are you doing? ‘’

Yeonjun raised his head, looking very unimpressed with getting disturbed.

‘’ Just organizing the files and sending them to you two. ‘’

You weren’t even sure what files he was talking about since he never told you, but you didn’t have time to ask. The café was getting a lot busier all of a sudden. Groups of students from the school a few blocks away started pouring in, filling the space up quickly.

‘’ Maybe we should go early, ‘’ you said, feeling a bit antsy.

There were so many people that it was hard to see everyone. Who knows if the one who followed Soobin today, and possibly you as well, decided to come inside the café?

‘’ Sure, ‘’ Yeonjun groaned.

You eventually made it out after having to push through a lot of people. While doing so, you tried to keep your head down and hoped that even if they were there they wouldn’t see you as the three of you exited.

‘’ Shit, ‘’ you burst out, ducking awkwardly inside an alley.

The others looked at you like you were crazy before Soobin’s eyes searched everywhere and when they finally landed in the same place, a low curse left his lips too. Only Yeonjun was left in the dark.

‘’ What the fuck are you guys doing? ‘’ he hissed, but crouched by your side anyway.

‘’ One of the guys is here. Outside the building to be exact. ‘’

‘’ Do you think he ran into Yena? ‘’ Soobin whispered.

‘’ I don’t know…maybe. ‘’

‘’ Who? ‘’

Yeonjun shuffled still while crouching to peek around the corner, he wasn’t really sure who to look for, however. Thankfully the café had just been on the other side of the street to where the building was, so you had a clear view of the stairs leading up to it from where you were now.

‘’ That guy, ‘’ you took Yeonjun’s hand into yours, making him stare wide-eyed at you.

Then you moved his pointer so it landed directly on the person you wanted him to see. It probably wouldn’t matter much anyway, but at least it confirmed you and Soobin weren’t crazy and paranoid. In the future, it could be helpful as well for him to recognize the guys in case he’d run into them.

Yeonjun’s eyebrows knit together, ‘’ That’s…him. ‘’

You and Soobin looked at him worriedly when he started shaking and his breaths grew more rapid.

‘’ Who? ‘’

‘’ The guy who killed my best friend. ‘’

Jungwon…

taglist; @peaceout97blog-blog, @ayadikreino, @beoms-sugar, @keikeu, @sunghoonnsupremacy, @lilyalone, @sweet-kisses-and-bloody-screams, @eunchaesmileyface, @nunugget, @seunns, @nshmrarki, @huening-ly, @espyluvsyou, @yncel, @loserwithnofriends, @enha-stan, @binchanluvrr, @ariek-divad, @obsessed1with1straykids, @yizhoutv, @taeyongzodiactwinkiri, @w3bqrl, @elleashn

#enha the glory #yandere kpop #kpop yandere

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thosewickedlovelies · 1 month ago

Text

Anything That Shined: part 5

The Thief x Heroic!F!Reader x Marcus Moreno

Rating: T for Teen

Summary: The thief decides its the perfect time to throw a party, so you and Marcus suit up

Tags: friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, eventual threesomething; ~sexual tension~, the inner monologues are getting spicy (but are they self-aware? not yet); spot the PPCU characters

Word count: 10,719 (lmao???)

Note: Apparently it’s been THREE YEARS since I updated this fic??? ("I’ve abandoned my boy!") I’m deeply sorry, but in my defense, I did start several new stories (which I have also not finished). Hey ho. As atonement, I’ve finally made a masterlist and a moodboard for this story, for your convenience and pleasure 😌🥰

Fun fact, this chapter contains one of the scenes, yknow, one of the original scenes that i wrote for this story that i then had to build the rest of the series around 👀 a big ole smooch for anyone who guesses which one it was

As per, the wonderful art is by @patternedlantern

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“Is that…Kermit the frog on your shirt?” Doc addresses Binary almost warily, as if afraid the answer will be a joke he won’t enjoy hearing.

Binary stretches herself into a graceful recline on a full-length pool chair, dropping her recently removed hoodie on the chair adjacent. “You know it, Doc. The icon himself.” The cropped hem of her graphic tee, depicting a glamor shot of one famous green puppet, rides up slightly above her leggings.

“I’m surprised you know who Kermit is, Doc. When was the last time you watched Saturday morning cartoons?” Deven drops himself at the neighboring table and pulls his hair free of its bun, setting loose a cascade of curls frizzy with sweat. In the midday sun flooding through the glass ceiling, they glint like Binary’s copper wire.

Doc casts Deven a withering look over the table between them. “The Muppets are quite literally older than both of us, Deven.”

“And the Muppets are hardly kiddy cartoons,” you point out. “Kermit is a pop culture icon for a reason. They’re universal.”

Doc gives you a nod of thanks. Your eyes crinkle in response as you shuffle into the row of pool chairs. The chair past the one holding Binary’s hoodie has a plush towel draped over the back, as they all do, in the same jewel-bright shade of aquamarine as the pool water. The glassy surface of it stretches away in a reflection of the greenhouse-like ceiling above. The air is damp and fragranced by trees and greenery bordering the room.

“Exactly.” Bellows chips in in agreement. “Plus, some of their humor is very adult-oriented. That sketch where Beaker and the doctor guy appear wearing each other’s clothes? With no explanation? Very naughty.” He leaves a gap between your chair and his so that Marcus, following him, can sit next to you.

Marcus sits on your chair instead, and props his foot up on the spare one to untie his boots, mirroring you with your foot on Binary’s spare chair. You lean your back against his, feeling his thin t-shirt damp with sweat and the muscles beneath still warm with exertion.

Both of you are now more in the habit of the casual touching required to sustain your fake relationship. Your current contact is more weariness then affection, however, following a long stint in the mansion’s new training arena. The thief was absent for some reason, but everyone else joined, and someone had suggested relaxing afterward in the indoor pool- still another feature of the mansion you and Marcus had yet to discover.

“Aw, I always liked Beaker and his little meeps. Doesn’t his doctor boyfriend have a funny name?” Seams plops down on the chair between Marcus and Bellows.

Marcus says nothing, only withdraws his foot, but you feel him tense. Despite the nature of your game, he doesn’t like being forced into such positions. Briefly you place a reassuring palm on his shoulder, then shift away slightly to the end of the chair.

Ever a gentleman, Marcus still responds to Seams’s query. “Dr. Bunsen,” he supplies.

You raise an eyebrow. Marcus spreads his hands in a shrug. “What? They’re universal,” he teases. “Plus, Missy went through a phase for awhile.” His voice drops slightly- he doesn’t like mentioning Missy in front of the others, as if scared to remind them of her existence.

“That’s it! Bunsen and Beaker.” The nostalgia in Seams’s smile lends an unexpected sweetness to her face.

An impression which is shattered by her subsequent hair toss and the appraising look she angles at Binary’s shirt. “But obviously Miss Piggy will always be number one.”

Ezra speaks up for the first time, appearing thoroughly- and uncharacteristically- bewildered. “What on earth are you all talkin’ about?”

A long pale body suddenly leaps over the pool, limbs splayed and hair a trail of flame.

Nobody ducks in time.

Water spatters your face and clothes, and Marcus catches you when you reflexively flinch backward. His hands are twin suns on your hip and shoulder. Your own sunlight rises to meet his touch, quickly suffusing your whole body with warmth. Instinctively you duck your head from him. No, wait, you’re supposed to be reacting. Flustered now, you reach for a flirtatious expression, quirking your lips up and glancing meaningfully between Marcus’s hand and his face.

Marcus’s own smile looks forced, but he gives your shoulder a quick squeeze. The two of you may have worked out the physical contact, but managing your faces has proven more of a challenge.

Laughter and complaints echo through the open space. Clicking her tongue, Binary shakes out her formerly dry hoodie and hangs it over the back of the chair in place of the towel.

“What? You were all going to get in anyway.” Deven’s hair is plastered to his head now, the red gleam doused to brown. Water drips from the small gold hoop in his left ear. He’d jumped right in in his gym shorts, although, according to Seams, there were lockers full of swimsuits for guests, and to spare anyone here the effort of having to go their rooms to change first.

Bellows’s chest swells. A breath later, a burst of water slaps Deven in the face. The Irishman splutters.

Sniggering, Bellows strips off his shirt, and you can’t help but raise an eyebrow. A thick dusting of dark hair doesn’t disguise the shape of the muscles beneath, filling out his narrow frame. All that breath control must be a constant ab workout.

Marcus and Doc remain on dry land, but everyone else follows Deven in varying degrees of clothedness. You leave your leggings on- the wet spandex will be annoying to peel off later, but you’re not quite sure you’re ready to hang out with these people in your underwear. Nerea gives you a welcoming smile as you follow them in.

Water warm as a bath envelopes you, yet it’s still refreshing, buoying your stiff muscles and sore feet. The acrid tang of chlorine is pleasantly absent. Everyone drifts peacefully for a moment, soaking it in, floating instinctively toward a wide patch of sunlight.

You turn to Ezra, determined to revisit his earlier question. “Did you say you don’t know who the Muppets are, Ezra?”

Water trickles down the pilot’s face, making islands of his freckles. “I keep hearing that word without the foggiest understandin’ of it, so that is indeed the sentiment I mean to express.” His eyes crinkle with amusement. “Would you care to enlighten me, starshine?”

Of course, you don’t manage to be Ezra’s sole teacher, as a clamor of disbelief immediately erupts.

“Oh, I think I know these! The little blue one was my favorite- Grober?” Nerea’s accent throws you for a second, as does the name.

Bellows understands first. “Oh, Grover! Like from Sesame Street.” You all ohhh as if on cue. “He’s from a different show, technically,” Bell explains through the resulting giggles. “But they’re basically cousins.”

“We should have a movie night tonight,” Seams declares. “To properly acquaint Nerea and Ezra with the cultural phenomenon that is the Muppets.” She nudges the man beside her. “You’re not busy tonight, are you, Ez?” Seams tilts her head at him, a glint in her eye. She doesn’t say it like a question.

Ezra, studying the way the water laps at the crevice between her breasts in a sports bra, takes his time lifting his gaze. It peruses the wet cling of blond hair to her neck, the roundness of her cheeks, with a lazy, leisurely privilege.

Finally his dark eyes catch her paler ones. “Not half as busy as I suspect I will be, spell-weaver.” Ezra’s voice is a low croon.

Something about their exchange makes you glance at Marcus. He’s looking at Ezra, as if captured by the other man’s tone. In the next second his gaze flicks to you; and then away, shuttering.

“Well, that was something none of us wanted to hear.” Bellows interjects loudly, clapping his hands together to redirect everyone’s attention. “So, movie night! The normal place and time?”

Amid nods of agreement, Bell catches the uncertain glance between you and Marcus. “I’ll swing by your guys’ room and walk you,” he promises.

Which in the end you’re very grateful for, because of course the ‘normal place’ happens to be a separate home theater, and of course you’re forced to admit you never would have found it on your own.

The problem is that all of these incredible things are hidden behind totally normal doors, you muse. There was not the slightest hint outside that this door contained what it did:

A collection of mismatched couches and a projector facing a bare wall. Red velvet curtains lining the rest of the room. An impromptu kitchen consisting of a tabletop popcorn machine, cabinets filled with snacks, and a refrigerator stacked with drinks.

You’re instantly enamored by the cozy arrangement. “It’s a lot more…low-budget than I expected,” you confess.

Bellows laughs. “Oh, this isn’t the real home theater. Teo has a real setup down the hall, but we mostly only use that for new films. Or ones that deserve the respect of a giant screen and proper sound system.”

“Like Lord of the Rings?” Seams, passing you, snorts. She carries a bottle of white wine and a crinkly black bag depicting something that looks like seaweed chips.

Bell goes on the defensive at once. “When it’s the extended editions, absolutely!”

“Whatever,” Seams sing-songs, making her way to a couch. “All I’m saying is, if I have to sit through something four hours long, I at least want to be able to stretch out.”

Marcus has been silent thus far, the frown between his brows steadily deepening the more he hears of the thief’s excesses. At Seams’s statement, he snorts.

You and Bell send him curious looks.

Marcus coughs slightly. “Well, they were really long,” he says sheepishly.

Bellows sniffs.

You and Marcus end up on a couch next to one holding Seams…and Ezra. Despite the latter’s unfamiliarity with the Muppets, and the former’s insistence that he become acquainted, she doesn’t seem to be demanding he paying very close attention.

Ezra’s husky tones drift over, and you shift uneasily. Obviously you and Marcus should be taking advantage of the environment to further rumors of your relationship- ie, snuggle or something. The only light besides the movie screen is a lamp in the kitchen space at the back of the room, and dimness wraps around you with an intimate familiarity, urging you to sit closer to him. Any other couple would happily curl up together, giggling furtively, turning the couch into their own little world.

Marcus leans over, his lips almost touching your ear, and you freeze.

“Are you sure you don’t want to break your ‘sitting on my lap’ rule?” he murmurs.

You almost burst out laughing. Your shoulders shake with it, one hand covering your mouth to keep it in. Still snickering, you elbow him.

Marcus’s eyes glimmer with amusement, his face still close to yours. Pleased, he continues in a whisper. “Seriously, though. Can I..?” He lifts his arm to indicate putting it around you.

Affection for him warms your chest. You lick your lips nervously, but nod. A bit in disbelief, you scooch to your right, settling Marcus’s arm over your shoulders. Just for a second, your skin brightens gold, sunlight like a bioluminescent wave rushing up the shore.

You take a deep breath, willing the light to subside, keeping your face turned firmly toward the screen.

Marcus’s reaction, then, is outside your field of vision. The downward tilt of his eyes, the way his face softens at this manifestation of your powers.

Like fireflies, he thinks.

Those tiny blooms which appear at dusk. Insubstantial at first, little more than yellow flickers in the corner of your eye…until their glowing fills the darkness.

It reminds him of Missy’s childhood. Sitting on the porch on hot summer nights, watching the silhouette of her curls bobbing as she chased fireflies through the twilit backyard. Tiny hands clapping wildly until she learned that smooth, patient motions were more effective.

Marina sitting beside him.

The thought of her doesn’t perturb him the way he thought he would. Somehow, Marcus thinks, I have a feeling she would find this whole situation very funny.

The thought warms him: that Marina would giggle to see the stiff, careful posture with which you sit under his arm. How cautious Marcus himself always is when touching you.

You know how to woo a girl better than that, Moreno.

Of course, he’s not wooing you for real, but…

Marcus tugs you toward him slightly.

You look at him in uncertainty, and then surprise. A fond smile turns up his mouth and the corners of his eyes- the most genuine smile he’s worn since arriving at the mansion. Marcus tugs on your shoulder again, and pats his leg with his other hand. A clear invitation.

So you scoot closer, hesitantly nestling into his side. Gently Marcus takes your right arm and rests it on his thigh, guiding you into a more natural position. He leans back against the couch, clearly relaxed.

Your sun hums in your chest. Marcus’s obvious comfort puts you at ease, transforming your proximity from intimidating into something familiar- you and Marcus, side by side on a mission together. Normal.

You dare to lean your head on his arm periodically. He smells nice- clean from showering after the pool earlier. Occasionally his body will vibrate with laughter at the movie, and your heart- and sunlight- will skip at the rumble of it against you.

“Soo, what’s everyone wearing to the party tomorrow night?”

Binary, setting down her post-lunch coffee next to her empty pre-lunch travel mug, shakes her head at Seams’s question.

“What do you want to tell us to wear?” Bellows raises an eyebrow.

Seams appears affronted. “What you’ll look best in, obviously. I thought we agreed on the whole ‘united front’ thing?”

Doc interjects before her pointed look can pierce any deeper. “Do you think the thief’s gray suit would do me any favors? He offered to let me borrow it for the party, but I’m not sure about the color.”

Everyone looks at Doc then, picturing him in the steely gray suit jacket you assume he’s referring to. Pairing it with his sandy hair and hazel-blue eyes.

“The one he wore the other day? Hmm.” Seams taps her chin with a finger. “No, you’re right, the color will wash you out. Ask him for one of his more colorful plaids.”

“Much obliged.” Doc tips his mug to her in thanks.

(His mug contains tea, milky, courtesy of Deven: “You’ve been after something new to drink in the mornings, right? This will put hair on your chest, Doc. None for Belly, though.” Deven wagged a warning finger in Bellows’s direction.

You nearly choked on your tropical juice. Binary, her lips trembling from fighting her own laughter, gave the faux-sulking Bellows a pat on the shoulder.

Bel scoffed. “Please, I wouldn’t drink that stuff anyway. The only thing your people got right about tea is the size.”

He tapped his mug with a fingernail, the clink ringing. It was a standard eight ounces but made of clear glass, decorated with patterns of concentric blue circles. The tea within was black and unadulterated but for a lush, leafy stem of mint. A sheen of undissolved sugar remained at the bottom, visible when he slurped a pointed sip, and remembering the amount he’d stirred in made you shudder all over again.)

No one escapes Seams’s interrogation (except for Ezra and the thief, who are absent). Nerea is the only person who agrees to be styled for the party, although Deven concedes to look through her jewelry collection.

“...But only because I want to see what kind of goodies that cute designer you stole from me at the last party is sending you.” Deven narrows his eyes at Seams accusingly.

She smiles with perfect innocence, and eats the last bite of her salad with a little too much relish.

Then Seams’s pale brown eyes turn to your end of the table. “And what about you two?”

“...Us?” You have to hide your astonishment. Marcus goes rigid.

You’d tried to remain unnoticed throughout the conversation. You and Marcus had been invited to the party, of course, but hadn’t decided if you’d go. What kind of message would it send if you did? You had no idea what circles the thief ran in. What kind of people would be there or who they’d talk to. Marcus would rather pluck out his own eyebrows hair by hair than go to any event hosted by the thief regardless, but you…you couldn’t help but be curious.

“Uh…we figured we’d find something in our closets that would work? Was it you who put together our wardrobes?” you ask in a sudden moment of insight. You feel foolish for not realizing it before.

No wonder Marcus’s shirts fit him so deliciously.

The sudden thought is a rude intrusion, and you frown. You’d been having more and more thoughts like that of late; it’s unprecedented, and it makes you uneasy. We don’t think about our friends that way, you chide yourself.

…But if Seams had personally designed their wardrobes, then why was that? Why had she made Marcus’s clothes fit the way they did? He’s wearing the dove gray button-down again today, and it’s impossible not to notice the unique stitching making his shoulders look so wide-

“Obviously,” Seams replies with a flip of her hair.

But that confirms it-

Your face falls into a pleasantly neutral expression, while your breathing instinctively deepens in attempt to calm the sudden emotions clanging inside you- like a belltower, each thought tolling irresistibly preceding another. Jealousy, that Seams clearly also had ideas about Marcus’s most attractive features and how to emphasize them. Confusion, as to why you should be jealous that someone else finds Marcus attractive. Bewilderment- when had you started acknowledging that you found Marcus so attractive?

Only Marcus notices the shift in your breathing. Shit. The temperature hasn’t changed, but something has obviously provoked you, and it was his responsibility to be there for you.

“I guess we should thank you for that,” Marcus says. He smiles calmly at Seams and places a hand on your shoulder, offering your gratitude as a unit. It quells your chaotic emotions, for the moment.

“It’s what I do.” Seams gives a flourish of the hand and inclines her head as if bowing, but her satisfaction is obvious.

“His wardrobe has suits that will be fine for the party,“ she continues, waving at Marcus. “But yours…” she eyes you critically.

“My dress from the deep sea party,” Binary says. Casually she grabs a cookie from the small platter in front of her and leans back in her chair.

Seams’s eyes widen. “The navy, sheer one.”

“Mmmhm.”

Seams turns to her. “This is why I forgive you for not letting me dress you.” Her pointed finger manages to make even her supposed forgiveness slightly threatening.

Binary rolls her eyes. “I’ll bring it by later.”

For all of Marcus’s searching, neither he nor Sunbeam have found the room they dined in that very first night. The one with his swords- Marina’s swords- hanging on the walls.

Walls which, in Marcus’s memory, seemed to drip in shades of rage and blood.

Obviously that was their first thought- try the easiest solution first. Marcus was sure the thief was too cocky to have taken down the swords. No, it would be just like him to leave them on display in the same room, taunt them with the possibility of swiping them from the wall and running.

But Marcus is not at all sure the thief wouldn’t simply shift the whole dining room instead. “Steal” it right out from under their noses and put another room in place of every door they open. Who’s to say he couldn’t? All those stories the thief tells, the things he claims to have stolen, and Marcus has no way of knowing which ones are bullshit and which ones are plausible.

Marcus’s priorities had shifted as soon as he realized who was holding them captive.

The thief. The man, the villain, who had haunted him so many years ago.

He still hopes to find the swords, of course. But, Marcus rationalizes, if he can bring the thief to justice, then he’ll have uninhibited access to his collections afterward.

So he stalks the house in his every spare moment. All but taking notes, assuming everything he sees has been acquired in some questionable way and slotting everything even remotely ancient or valuable or familiar-looking onto a mental list.

Animal figurines carved in wood with breathtaking detail. A collection of jewelry in patinated gold, each piece lined with microscopic, painstakingly placed beads. Marble statutes that wouldn’t look out of place in St. Peter’s Square.

Marcus Moreno, despite his profession, is not a violent man by nature. The combat he engages in is defensive. On behalf of others. He tries to disable, not hurt or maim. Yet every time they enter a new room, decorated with the thief’s glittering prizes, a red, pulsing rage fills him.

How many people have been hurt because of his exploits?

It was his government that stole people, not the thief, but if he hadn’t been stealing things in the first place…

No. Marcus shakes his head. That’s not how blame works and he knows this, has long accepted it with the help of his blessedly patient therapist.

But that doesn’t mean he can forgive the man. Marcus can get along with most people. For as long as is needed, anyway. But the thief is…strange. And then there’s your theory, that he’s- what, reformed now?

Marcus thinks of Doc’s halting progress in their self-defense lessons. The thief’s genuine gratitude and relief at Marcus’s willingness to train him.

And the camaraderie the thief has with the others who live here. They’re so…accepting. Welcoming Marcus and Sunbeam into their fold with hardly a whisper of mutiny. It’s uncomfortable to consider next to the memory of the pranks Miracle Guy and Crushing Low often played on new recruits. And even on the old hands- although they eased off somewhat after that time Lavagirl left their offices a molten waste. Marcus could never get it into their heads that being around the longest didn’t make them superior to everyone…

Nerea’s kind smile shines in his head, sparkling white as the snow they liked to conjure. How did someone like them agree to work with the thief? How did any of them end up here? The idea of befriending the people who are complicit in the thief’s work makes Marcus grind his teeth, but that’s what you and he agreed to. And then there’s their other little plan…

Marcus groans, rubbing the heels of his palms against his eyes, and resolves not to examine the situation so closely anymore. He gets up to see if you’re still lounging in their shared sitting room.

You are. You appear to be asleep- limbs a comfortable sprawl, head dropped back against the arm of the couch- but despite your closed eyes, your skin glimmers faintly, rhythmically. A long inhale, and it brightens enough to cast a dance on the polished wood of the coffee table. An exhale, and it fades again, to a shimmer fine enough that it could be a trick of cosmetics, like the glittery lotion that Missy had found once to go as you for Halloween.

(Of course Marcus helped her apply it, and the sparkle had clung to his hands for days afterward. It was worth it only because his daughter- and you- grinned every time she saw it.)

Marcus follows the line of your arm up to your shoulder, where the neckline of your top has slumped to the side. His gaze traces your bra strap, your light the same shade of gold even as it leads to the slope of your breast.

He finds himself wondering if your whole body glows just the same. Do your nipples glow? Marcus’s cheeks flush at the thought. But if they’re a different shade than the rest of your skin, it makes sense that the light would look different. What about, say, the inside of you?

His eyes glaze over as this thought plays out- as he considers the only place where the answer to that question might be visible.

Your skin brightens pointedly, and it jars Marcus from his depraved headspace. He unclenches his hands, clearing his throat as he offers you a sheepish smile.

Your expression is groggy yet forgiving, the air flickering warm with your amusement, as you rearrange yourself, making space for him on the couch. Marcus sits, being very careful not to touch you, still feeling as hot as if your sun had somehow gotten inside of him.

Now there’s a thought.

Marcus forcefully wrenches his mind from its perverted spiral, wondering, with a tinge of panic, what the fuck was wrong with him.

He says, “You want to go to the party.”

You look up and then away again, shades of guilt painting your face.

“I know we shouldn’t- I know why we shouldn’t, but…”

Marcus weighs his words. “You don’t think we should use the opportunity to dig around while the thief is distracted? See what we can find while everyone is out of the house?” To do so would be Marcus’s inclination, but you and he are great partners for a reason- you often have some insight that he doesn’t consider, and he values your thoughts on this.

You consider, still blinking away the meditative haze of your catnap. “I think…it won’t make a difference if we go or not.

“If we don’t go- even if we say it’s because of appearances or because we straight-up don’t like him- I don’t think the thief will believe we plan on just sulking in our rooms. He’ll have extra security measures in place around the swords, wherever they are.”

Marcus’s gaze is distant. “Do you think he still believes the swords are our primary objective?”

You look at him in surprise. “Aren’t they?”

Marcus worries a small throw pillow in his lap, thumb repeatedly tracing the textured pattern. “I don’t know. I think we should let him think so, but now that we’re here…” He leans toward you, lowering his voice. “I’ve been looking for other things. Really notable steals, records or an office of some kind. I haven’t found anything yet, but…bringing him in would make it all worth it.” His gaze is distant, but contemplative.

“And we’d still get the swords that way,” you say slowly, completing his thought process.

“...But there’s still no way he wouldn’t have extra security everywhere during a party. We have no idea what kind of people will show up! If this is some kind of special party of thieves, or if other people with superpowers will be there…maybe we wouldn’t even be who he’s worried about.” You give Marcus a wry twist of your lips.

“Maybe we could sneak off at the height of the party. Try to assess the security measures before then, if it would be worth it…”

“I could stay and distract him for a while?” You snigger even as you say the words, knowing how Marcus will react. “He won’t notice you sneaking off if I’m sparkling all over his arm.”

Marcus scoffs, trying to ignore the way his chest tightens at your suggestion. “You already know what I’m going to say to that. It’s too risky.” He flicks you a long glance. “What if he notices I’m gone and takes it out on you? Plus…”

He hesitates, unsure if what he’s about to say is a good idea. “I think a fancy party will be a good chance to really double down on our ‘relationship’. Get dressed up, stay close together the whole time, maybe dance, if there’s the opportunity.” He looks away.

“Oooh, I like that.” You sit up straighter. “You’d have to contain your jealousy if anyone else asked me to dance. Especially if that someone was Theo.” Your eyes sparkle mischievously.

Theo. Marcus hates the thief’s little nickname, but he hates even more the way it falls so easily from your lips. Seams’s creation, a natural extension from the sound of ‘thief’, is obviously not his real name, and Marcus worries at how you’ve grown used to using it. Worries that you might forget who the man truly is.

“You guys kind of look alike, you know.” Your smile is sly. “Tall, dark, and handsome.”

“Wha-” Marcus sputters. He thinks back to your conversation on the balcony. If you think he looks like the thief, does that mean that you think Marcus is…hot?

You watch Marcus’s face steadily redden, like a balloon about to pop, and burst into laughter. “Oh, Marcus, you’re way too easy to fluster for a superhero.” It takes several seconds to contain your giggling. You school your features into something sympathetic. “I’m joking, okay? I mean I’m sort of not, because you are tall, dark, and handsome, but just…don’t worry, okay? I can handle the thief.”

You’re up and heading to your room before Marcus can regain his dignity, squeezing his shoulder as you round the couch. To his surprise, he feels a thread of anger winding through his embarrassment. You think he’s so easy to fluster? A blushing schoolboy compared to your worldly remove?

Marcus storms into motion, face still burning, aiming for his wardrobe. He pulls out his phone.

You look like Van Gogh’s Starry Night.

Deep blue fabric flows over your body, draping and cinching and flattering in all the right places. Beadwork unfurls across it like a flung bolt of stars. Your skin is what really brings the effect to life- your golden light whorls beneath the dress’s sheer panels, making you shimmer like no painting ever could.

Only Marcus will know that your sunlight only moves like this when you’re nervous.

You head down to the party between Binary and Seams, your arms linked. The latter is still high on her transformation of you (“Maybe I should specialize in superhero styling.”) Her chin lifts regally, her every stride as sure as the strike of a blade. On your other side, Binary’s walk is more of a flow, liquid and calm as her expression, only an understated gleam in her eye betraying her anticipation.

Okay. You breathe. Focus on not burning your companions. All you have to do is find Marcus, and you’ll be fine. You can make it until then.

The length of marble hall ahead gets shorter and shorter, and the music grows louder. The cries and chatter of a crowd reach your ears. Your anxiety reaches a crescendo all at once.

The scene that opens before you is like nothing you’ve ever experienced.

The lawn normally visible from the breakfast room staircase has been transformed. This morning there hadn’t been so much as a blade of grass out of place. Now you can hardly see the grass beneath a constant drift of flower petals and glittery confetti, and the bejeweled heels of a few hundred cavorting strangers.

Decorative towers rise from the ground and form a border for the party space. Also constructed are trellised walls woven with flowers, joined to create the illusion of enclosed rooms, slightly more private spaces. Through the gaps are glimpses of plush chaise lounges and fur carpets- the same decor, it appears, as that of the low, open daises also scattering the lawn. Several are already occupied, lounging guests and their finery glinting at every turn; through the heave of the crowd you think you spot someone in a crown.

Globes of light and glittery garland seem to hang from the sky. Also suspended, seemingly from midair, are dancers- or maybe acrobats- graceful and daring and entertaining with a variety of poses and powers.

Oh, right. This is a super party.

Heroics didn’t like to entertain with super-powered methods. They were too above such things- they used their powers for a higher purpose, and expressed that others should do the same. You’d never catch Granada at any theater using magic for their special effects.

Here there were no such qualms. Across the lawn, two figures on pedestals seemed to be dueling with fire and ice, to the delighted gasps of the watchers below. A woman on a nearby edge of the crowd seemed to have skin lined with points of cold light. She notices you- perhaps she has similar powers?- and nudges the man besides her. As he turns, a tiny plumed bird takes flight from his shoulder. It wings several meters away, straight to the sequined epaulet of another figure, who seems to cock their head to it, as if getting a message. They too, turn in your direction, and you get the feeling that your entrance will not go unremarked.

You’re immensely grateful when Ezra appears in front of your trio. “At last, the final three birds to complete our flock.”

Oh good, that must mean Marcus is already here.

“Are we late?” you ask.

“Fashionably, of course,” Seams replies. She pecks Ezra on the cheek as she passes, her (terrifyingly) tall platform heels raising her to his same height. She seamlessly lifts a glass off the tray of a passing waiter and bounces into the crowd.

The waiter, noticing your drinklessness, pauses to offer his tray to the rest of you. It holds what can only be cocktails, ranging in color and sparkliness to a degree that would put a pride parade to shame. You select something blue and opalescent that tastes like a spring rain.

“Come on, let’s find the others.” Following Ezra’s directions, Binary leads you among clumps of finely-dressed people until you spot a familiar plaid suit- the thief’s, but fitted to Doc’s narrow frame.

“There’s Marcus. You go on, there’s someone I need to talk to.”

“Wait-” you whip your head around in alarm, but Binary is already gone, only a glint of copper at head-height providing a guess at her path.

Where was Marcus? There’s Bellows and a figure in green over with Doc, but you skim past them, scanning desperately for someone scowling or suspicious, anyone in a plain black suit and glasses.

A glint of red catches your eye. Deven, gesticulating at Doc in a way that sets the sequins on his top glinting like a signal fire. You breathe. Deven likes a gossip, he might have seen Marcus. You start toward the two familiar faces.

Honestly, has Theo hired a super whose power is to manifest flowers? You can’t think of how else he could achieve the constant ‘petals in the breeze’ effect. Maybe you missed a memo on the theme. There are flowers everywhere, nowhere untouched by their sweet, heady scent, a demonstration of the last bounty of summer. Only the rapidly cooling air betrays the receding season.

An end of summer theme would fit Seams’s outfit, you suppose. A short, frothy fuschia dress, with beaded vines and flowers peeking out amongst the ruffled layers. Her makeup as minimal yet as striking a complement as ever- a swipe of spring green eyeliner over her top lids, with a dot beneath each lower lashline.

Speaking of green…the figure beside Doc and Deven turns, and you stumble to a halt.

It’s Marcus.

Marcus, wearing a suit of deep, forest green, and smiling at something Doc says, his eyes crinkling in full visibility without his glasses. Why isn’t he wearing his glasses?

His hair is swept up and back in a way that it normally only achieves after being windblown in a superfight, or styled by someone else for a PR event. Since when can he do his own hair like that? He stands with his shoulders back, appearing relaxed, all but dripping charm and control.

Your hands are warm. Marcus is stunning, and you can’t stop gaping, and if you don’t get ahold of yourself your powers will scorch your own carefully constructed outfit to ash.

Deven turns, and your eyes meet. His eyebrows lift nearly to his hairline. A second later, some realization sparks, and his lips move.

The heat under your skin is mounting, but you can’t seem to remember how to breathe. Marcus’s smile, the breadth of his shoulders- he’s all you can see. What is happening to you?

“Sunbeam.” Nerea appears in front of you, smile soothing and reassuring as they reach for your hands. You gasp.

Their touch is cold, a wintery slap to the face. Your breathing jolts back to a controlled pace. Your sun immediately simmers down, although your face remains uncomfortably hot in a way you suspect is purely biological.

“Nerea,” you mumble. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Their lips quirk knowingly. “Here.” They rest the backs of their hands against your cheeks for a moment. The cold is crisp and reinvigorating as pressing your face to an icy windowpane. You sigh in relief.

Marcus sees you enter the party, of course. Heads turn like ripples in a pond toward you, Seams, and Binary- but mostly you, sparkling like a fucking star, your skin shimmering coyly beneath the semi-sheer portions of your dress. It takes a second glance to fully appreciate; or, if you’re Marcus, one endless, captivated stare, during which his lungs struggle to function and his brainpower ceases entirely.

How is it he feels like he’s never seen you before?

You and Marcus have been to countless Heroics events before, dressed in all degrees of formality. But tonight, here, through a crowd of potentially dangerous strangers and half-obscured by flower petals- it feels like his vision is clear for the first time.

Beside him, Doc’s head tilts. It’s his only visible reaction as he listens to Marcus’s blood sing and surge, much of it in a very particular direction-

Deven lets out a long, low whistle at the sight of the three women entering. “We are a pretty bunch, aren’t we?” He slings an arm each over the shoulders of Doc and Marcus.

Doc hums an amused sound. Marcus clears his throat, Deven’s gesture having yanked the leash on his senses, allowing his thoughts to return to his plan. Your impression that Marcus is some stammering schoolboy, unable to handle the slightest hint of flirtation, is unbearable- so he intends to put that idea to rest tonight.

“Cheers to that,” Marcus says. Flagging a passing waiter, he hands two flutes of standard sparkling champagne to his companions.

Their glasses clink. Across the crowd, Binary is leading you toward them. Resolved, Marcus half turns away as if he hasn’t seen you, letting himself smile at the arriving Bellows.

Your almost-meltdown seems to have gone miraculously unnoticed, despite that you’re barely ten steps from Marcus.

“Oh look, there are the others!” Nerea chirps. Their hands still refreshingly cool, they tug you forward.

There’s no way they didn’t know that, you think. But you’re so grateful for Nerea’s subtlety you don’t even care. Especially not as Marcus seems to get taller the closer you get him, his profile stunning against the tall white headdress of someone behind him.

“Sunshine!” Deven appears at your side like a flame bursting to life. His shoulder-length locks are half pulled back, and the earring in his left ear is long and bejeweled, dangling low enough to brush his bedazzled lapels.

“Hey, Deven.” You laugh in surprise at his hug and blush at his praise, modestly waving off his compliments on your appearance.

Someone comes up to you from behind. You sense them before you see them, their hand lowering toward your shoulder- but even the split second before it lands, an inconceivably, unfathomably brief instant- you recognize him.

Marcus.

Your sun retreats from where it would have scalded anyone else. “Sunbeam.” Marcus lightly touches your shoulder, and you turn and face him.

Marcus beams at you, radiating relief. And something else? He leans down and presses his lips to your cheek. “You look amazing,” he murmurs.

Your knees wobble. Marcus releases your shoulder, and your sun rushes back in like the sea into a tide pool, as if desperate to touch where he’d been.

“Marcus.” Giddy at his sudden closeness, but mostly with relief rushing through you like a drug, you grin. “Thanks. Seams’s work, obviously.” You make a little flourish as if to hand off some of the credit. Marcus shakes his head a little, his eyes darting all over you, from here to there and back again. Everywhere your sunlight is visible…

“You look nice too! I’ve never seen you in this color.” You’re genuinely proud of yourself for how normal you’ve sounded so far. You give Marcus a onceover now that you’re closer, immensely glad to have seen him before now, because otherwise you would have made a fool of yourself in point-blank HD. Speaking of which…

“Where are your glasses?” It’s always strange seeing him without them outside of superhero mode- he looks the same, but not. As if their lack lets you see things you can’t normally.

“Doc ordered me some contacts, too. ‘In case I prefer them.’” Marcus rolls his eyes in fond exasperation.

You laugh. “Of course.”

Strangely, everyone you know seems to have drifted away from you. Even Doc, who normally wouldn’t do anything so impolite as snub a greeting. You shuffle backwards slightly, suddenly aware of how close to Marcus you’re still standing.

“Well, should we…make our way around?” you suggest.

Marcus looks around, his face turning serious as if remembering where they are. “I guess so. We should keep an eye out for the thief, too.”

“Of course.” You smirk. “Gotta show ourselves off.”

“Show you off, you mean. Come on.” Eyes twinkling, Marcus takes your arm and tugs you along. Your whole body tingles.

You don’t know what you expected, but apparently it wasn’t that everyone would be so chatty. Plenty of people choose to stare instead of approach- every time you turn a pair of eyes flits away, or a group shuffles guiltily. But just as many people seem perfectly at ease striking up a conversation with you and Marcus.

A man with canines that protruded out of his purple lipsticked-mouth asked if it was true that Granada didn’t age. A hugely buff, cheerful woman at a food table commented on the delicate perfection of the macarons. An individual wearing a shimmery dress but of otherwise indiscernible gender queried, with a twinkle in their eye, if the Heroics ever helped rebuild any of the property they destroyed during superhero battles.

Marcus rubs the bridge of his nose. “They must have been talking to Missy,” he grumbles.

You send him an amused glance. The next generation of Heroics was notoriously outspoken on how different things would be when they were in charge. Every new proposal they sent to Marcus meant another pile of paperwork, but neither of you would dream of discouraging the young people’s ambition.

You pick up a glass filled with something in the same shade of violet as the earlier guy’s lipstick and examine it, thinking.

“I don’t know why,” Marcus begins, echoing your thoughts, “but I thought more people here would be…”

“Villainous? Aloof? Suspicious-looking?” you suggest.

Marcus frowns around the rim of his glass. “...Yes.”

You agree. “But they’re all so..nice. Like totally normal people.”

“Almost all of them,” Marcus mutters, leveling a dark glance over his shoulder.

He’s glaring at the thief, who’s currently lounging on one of the cushioned platforms in the center of the lawn. Most of his ire is directed at the crown Theo wears- or was wearing when he arrived. Now it doesn’t look as much like he’s holding court. Another man on the dais currently wears the crown, and is chatting amongst a small group sprawled on the plush rugs, not paying the thief any mind. Theo himself appears engaged in conversation with just the two people sharing his couch.

When Marcus looks back at you, there’s a creamy pink flower petal caught in your hair. He reaches for it. “Wait, you’ve got a flower.”

Your breath catches when Marcus leans over you. His other hand hovers near your jaw, as if to hold your head in place. It doesn’t touch, but the mere promise of it is more than enough to keep you still.

Finally Marcus leans back, proffering the offending petal between two fingers.

“Thanks.” You take a sip of your drink, feigning unaffectedness as you look around.

Hiding a smile, Marcus lets the petal fall. You’re not quite as subtle as you think. Every time he touches you, the faintest shimmer blooms beneath your skin. It’s addicting, being able to watch the reactions he would normally have to helplessly hope for.

He sets down his empty glass and scans the crowd, wondering if any of the waiters are serving water. Movement on the thief’s dais catches his eye. He appears to be leaving, kissing cheeks as he goes. His long suit jacket, tonight black and embroidered with gold and blue flowers, swishes around his thighs as he places one foot on the stairs.

The man still wearing the crown stands. The thief turns, one hand going dramatically to his head. Their faces are inches apart as the other man lowers the crown into the thief’s tousled locks.

The thief lightly grips the man’s chin, and Marcus hates that he can picture the exact challenging, flirtatious expression on the thief’s face. The other man smirks; the thief tugs him down until their lips meet.

Marcus isn’t sure that he expected to feel anything at the sight, but something is undeniably fomenting. You’d reported the tidbit about the thief and Ezra previously being involved, but knowing something and seeing it are two different things.

Marcus looks away, grateful to find your attention elsewhere.

“Whoa, look at that gorgeous woman Doc is talking to. Does she look familiar…?”

Marcus’s mouth falls open. Not because of the woman’s looks, although she is beautiful- long tanned limbs and elegant stature and dark, intelligent eyes- but because he knows who she is.

Oh god, they’re coming toward you. Marcus has met some important people as a Heroic, but none in this context. What is she doing here? Talking with Doc like they’re old friends?

Marcus is nudging you in their direction, apparently determined to intercept them. You go unresistingly, still wracking your brain for where you’ve seen her before.

Doc catches sight of you and slows to an uncertain stop. The woman follows his gaze, but no sooner have her eyes lit with curiosity than the thief appears, kissing her on both cheeks and asking after someone called Oberyn.

“He’s terribly busy, I’m afraid, but he bid me come and have fun for the both of us.” You’re close enough to overhear their conversation now- close enough that it could almost be considered rude for Theo not to introduce you.

Her dress sways with layers of fringe the color of saffron threads. Dark curls spill down her back in a loose bind. There’s an easy, sensual confidence about her- the look of someone deeply settled in their own body. With her dark coloring and flower petals in her hair, she looks like summer incarnate.

Her gaze flickers from the thief to you and back again. “Darling Teo, you must tell me about the company you’re keeping these days.” She threads her arm through his. “Heroics?” Her tone is benign, but her glance is very, very pointed.

The thief clears his throat, and although he gives you and Marcus a regal nod of acknowledgment it’s clear he has no intention for you to join them. “My darling queen, trust me when I say I’m just as surprised as you are…” He directs her back the way she came. If you didn’t know better, you’d say Theo looked almost nervous.

The woman flicks her hair as they walk, and the dip of her dress reveals a tattoo of a spear rippling along her spine. You stare after them, curiosity of a different flavor piqued.

“Do you know who that was?” Marcus’s face resembles a thundercloud.

You frown. “Is she a celebrity? She definitely looked familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why.”

“He called her queen. Because she’s an actual, politically recognized Queen.”

At your obvious lack of recollection, Marcus turns his disbelieving gaze to the heavens. “That was Queen Ellaria of Dorne. She’s married to King Oberyn. And apparently, both of them are best friends with Teo.” Marcus sneers his name.

He appears deeply unsettled by this turn of events. You wait while Marcus processes, mumbling to himself, making several movements halfway before aborting them. When a familiar, frenetic glitter appears in his eye, you speak.

“Oh! I finally remember where I’ve seen her before.” Marcus looks up. “I read some listicle recently- ‘Ranking the 10 Hottest Monarchs in the World’, or something. But I remember laughing because King Oberyn was like, six, and his wife was all the way up at number two.” You chuckle at the memory.

Marcus stares at you. If before he’d been spiraling, worries spinning around him like debris in a tornado, now the storm had frozen in its path. Then Marcus guffaws, and his worries drop while his laughter continues, shaking him until his paranoid concerns are scattered at his feet.

You allow yourself a satisfied smile. Your skin brightens, your sunlight smug. “There’s nothing we can do but keep our eyes open. And let’s get another drink while we’re at it. I haven’t tried the orange one yet.”

So you continue your way around the party, sampling the food and flowers and drinks in every color of the rainbow. Despite the marvels all around, Ellaria’s appearance had had a sobering effect. The illusion had been shattered. Now you kept your eyes peeled, open to the real possibility of seeing someone you might recognize. You don’t, but Marcus spots someone who’s on the board of an international children’s charity, and his fists clench so tight that a crack appears in your highball glass.

You find Ezra again, and he introduces you to a girl he calls his ‘ward’, Cee. Although she and her companion are easily the youngest people here, the elfin blonde looks plenty old enough to be independent.

“How are your lessons with Francisco coming?” Ezra asks her.

“Fine,” she answers. Her gaze flits to you and Marcus with what’s by now a familiar uncertainty. How much to say around you who would normally be their enemies?

Ezra puts his arm around her. His right arm, the colored lights glinting dully off his sporadically-worn prosthetic. “Cee here is training to be a pilot. I’ve been a great source of inspiration to her, you see…”

The woman plants her palm on his cheek and shoves gently at his face. Ezra cackles as he retreats, his blond streak sticking straight up amongst now-mussed hair. “A great source of pain, you mean,” Cee grumbles.

It’s somewhat jarring to see the mansion’s residents- a limited circle you thought you were getting to know- in such an expanded context. Ezra, with a daughter. Deven, blushing at a peck on the cheek from a tall, wide man and his companion. Bellows, appearing happily smothered in affection by a woman whose chatter was almost as bright as her intricately embroidered thaub.

You’re surprised to find yourself feeling slightly bereft at their distraction. It’s not that they’re ignoring you, but…Of course they want to spend time with their actual friends. It’s silly to think that they would prioritize you and Marcus, with your situation being what it was.

Anyway, it’s not like you’re lonely. Marcus doesn’t leave your side the whole night. Literally- you’re not sure when he first got ahold of you, but you can’t think of a single moment when he hasn’t been touching you. At some point he found one of the gaps in the back of your dress, and his fingertips had seemed glued to your skin ever since. He leans down to hear you whenever you speak, and his lips nearly touch your ear when he replies. It’s entirely unnecessary. It’s making you warm.

It only gets worse once a dance floor appears at the far side of the lawn. Marcus leads you toward it.

“Dance?” His eyes gleam.

His palm splays on the small of your back. His other hand engulfs yours, holding it aloft as he sways you to the lilting music. Heat that has nothing to do with your power grows steadily inside you. Since when is Marcus this good of an actor?

Your sun can’t be contained either. Heat builds under your skin until you’re sure you look less like Starry Night and more like a certain sci-fi character about to regenerate.

Marcus’s lips brush your ear. “Stay with me, Sunbeam. It’s just us, remember?” He leans back slightly, giving you some much-needed breathing room. His brown eyes catch yours and hold them.

Slowly, your temperature goes down. You become aware of watchful eyes all around, bright with anticipation. You look down.

A trickle of figures on the edge of the crowd catch your eye. Pairs and small groups head for the hedge maze, some more eagerly than others. Dark and quiet and alone? Yes please.

You catch Marcus’s eye again. “Wanna take a walk?”

The hedge maze is everything the party isn’t. Cool and quiet, tranquil and relaxing. You and Marcus meander the dark paths aimlessly, your sunlight glimmering off glossy green leaves. He says nothing, and you neither.

Periodically, you hear evidence of others in the maze. Voices, giggling, rustling…moaning? You smirk to yourself and refrain from commenting. But the third time you pass what must be a very passionate hangout, without having seen a soul for at least twenty minutes, you begin to wonder. It’s not quite a maze, this. There are navigational signs, for a start. Almost all the lead-offs you peek into end in small, unadorned clearings.

From a shrouded, sordid corner of your mind rises the word.

Pleasure garden.

Was that even a real thing? Or just something you’d absorbed from some historic fantasy novel? Either way, it rings true. The furtive yet eager behavior of the couples entering the maze- the fact that it was primarily small groups of two or three entering together. The paths are lush, but not overgrown. The atmosphere clandestine, but not spooky. More…romantic. Erotic.

“I think…” You slow to a stop, and Marcus with you. “I think this maze is meant for couples. Like, people who want to sneak away. That’s why we keep hearing…stuff.”

“I wouldn’t have expected you to be blushing over something like that, Sunbeam.” Marcus slides you a sideways smirk, one corner of his mouth lifting. “I figured that out too, somehow.”

You roll your eyes like that will disguise your fidgeting. Normally you wouldn’t be so flustered in a situation like this, but you’re just so…hot already. As you have been all night.

There’s a gap in the hedges behind Marcus that you swear wasn’t there a second ago.

“Well, if we really wanted to cement the rumors of our fake relationship…” You nod to the gap, and Marcus turns, the shadowy archway appearing in full.

You and Marcus exchange a long glance.

“I’m ready if you are.” Marcus offers you his arm. The formal gesture strikes you as silly given the circumstances- you’ve already entered a pleasure garden together. Yet it puts you strangely at ease, too. This is Marcus, your friend, your companion-in-arms- giving you agency in keeping yourself safe, like he always has.

You loop your arm through his.

“I guess that means we’ll be here awhile,” you say, settling yourself on the softest grass you’ve ever felt. “Should have grabbed one of those champagne bottles.”

A number of the decorative towers glittering throughout the party had in fact been made of green glass bottles- drink option, decoration, and party favor all in one. You’d seen others brandishing them all evening, and now regretted not grabbing one before entering the maze.

Marcus is examining the barely-visible gap in the hedge that provided you entrance to your little clearing. The green of his suit nearly blends in with the leaves, adding to the enchanting surreality of his appearance.

At your words, he straightens. “I could go get one,” Marcus offers. “Or maybe…”

His face alights with mischief. He turns his head in the direction of the party, eyes narrowing. Startled cries sound in the distance before transforming into awed, knowing oooohs. Marcus holds out his hand.

A second later, a green glass bottle sails down into his palm. He turns to you, grinning, lifting the bottle like a trophy.

You laugh in delight, applauding. Marcus indulges your praise with a little bow, looking pleased with himself in a way you don’t see very often anymore.

The two of you settle into the grass and pass the champagne back and forth. There’s no direct light source in your little enclave; a soft glow seems to emanate from the leaves themselves, doubtless some magic induced by the thief’s gardeners. However it works, it manages to cast everything in a warm, gentle light. It flatters Marcus’s already attractive features: his relaxed smile, the length of his throat, every flicker of muscle in his shoulders and arms beneath his fine white shirt. His suit jacket lay discarded, nearly invisible against the base of the hedge. You had nearly choked on fizz when he’d removed it.

The heat that had been building inside you all evening quiets, but doesn’t subside completely. It’s unignorable. It flares every time Marcus’s fingers brush yours on the bottle. Every time he laughs, his head tipping back. When you kick off your shoes and wiggle your toes in the grass, and he can’t quite tear his gaze from your legs. Your sunlight preens. You clear your throat and adjust your dress over your thighs, suppressing the ache between them.

Silence settles comfortably between you. Marcus upends the champagne bottle, then holds it upside down over the grass, displaying its emptiness with a pout. You giggle, swaying where you sit. A pleasant, tipsy buzz has taken hold of both of you, making all of your troubles seem very far away. Why worry when you could simply relax for once, hidden away as you are?

For the first time, you hear other people outside the hedge. A trio, it sounds like, cooing at each other and laughing as they pass by.

Only suddenly, they aren’t passing- the branches where you entered quiver, and the thump of stumbling footsteps sound.

You look at Marcus in alarm.

His face hardens with sudden resolve. Quick as a flash, Marcus springs forward, and you find yourself sprawled on your back, his longer body covering yours like a blanket. The grass is cool against your spine. You gasp when Marcus’s mouth brushes your neck, his movements hurried and inelegant.

“Play along,” he mutters in your ear.

Right. You wrap your arms around his back, trying to grasp handfuls of his too-tight, tucked-in shirt. As your body relaxes into a more natural posture, Marcus’s tenses, the muscles in his back flickering. He grabs the back of your knee and hitches it over his hip, and you choke on a sound of shock.

You can’t see the intruders from your position, but Marcus whips his head toward them as they appear.

“Oops, sorry!” They back out immediately. Stifled squeals and giggles trail after them for a seemingly endless moment, until finally, finally, quiet falls again.

The distant sounds of the party and the rustling of the hedges are the only sounds.

No, that’s not true- you can hear Marcus breathing, harsh and fast. The humidity of it skims the shell of your ear. You’re barely breathing at all. Your chests brush every time you inhale, but you don’t dare make any other move.

“Are they gone?” Marcus whispers.

The stubble on his jaw rasps against your cheek when he speaks. Despite that he holds the bulk of his weight off of you, you can still feel the mass of him, resting lightly against your body. It’s the only sensation that could possibly distract from the way he still grips your leg- barely above the knee, perfectly proprietary, but the real issue is that his fingers are on your skin. Keeping you in place in a way you know, instinctively, is going to haunt your dreams.

“It sounds like it,” you breathe in response.

Marcus lifts his head enough to meet your eye. Neither of you move, frozen, close enough to taste the sweet champagne you shared on the other’s breath. Marcus’s eyes flicker to your mouth.

He flinches. Carefully Marcus scrambles off you, releasing your leg and sitting back by your feet. His eyes are huge and round and dark. He seems as stunned as you still are, staring up at him from the ground. Only a few moments had passed, yet the entire incident seemed both instantaneous and endless, echoing in the space between you. Somehow your sun hadn’t even reacted, only waited attentively in your chest for a coherent command.

“Sorry,” Marcus rasps. “It was the first thing I thought of.”

“It’s okay.” Clearing your throat, you slowly sit yourself up. “Do you think they recognized us?”

I hope so, is what Marcus doesn’t say.

“Maybe. But we did want word to get back to the thief.” His mouth twitches infinitesimally, something that could be satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

“Well.” You flounder to recover the atmosphere. “If I knew you’d react like that, I’d have hired Seams to dress me ages ago.”

Marcus blinks. And then the tension dissolves, and his laughter bounces off the hedges.

Eventually, you and Marcus make your way out of the garden. He brushes grass off of your back with light, careful hands- although those hands still steal into the gap in your dress to rest against your spine as you walk. You’ve (not unhappily) resigned yourself to the endless, tingling warmth caused by his touch. Your skin maintains a low shimmer as you exit the maze, the champagne in your bloodstream loosening your grip on your power.

You sway a little as you walk, giggling, recounting to Marcus a story that Binary had told earlier. He chuckles in your ear, his head bent to yours. The crowd is noticeably thinner now, and you make it farther across the lawn than you realize without noticing- or putting your guards up.

The thief is back on the low dais in the center of the lawn, entertaining another (or possibly the same) group of people. Or maybe they’re the ones doing the entertaining, seeing as Theo is seated on the ground, seemingly unbothered by his position amongst the fluffy rugs. The crown he’d been passing around earlier now sits crookedly on his head, at the same angle as the smile on his face. A half-empty glass is in his hand.

When Marcus looks up, Theo is watching them. His gaze rests on their linked hands. A hollow sort of longing is carved on his face; Marcus, unexpectedly, feels sympathy pang in his chest. The reaction puts a deep furrow in his brow.

Theo tries to school his expression when he catches Marcus’s eye, but it’s delayed, clumsy, his finely tuned control unwieldy after too many drinks. He lifts his glass to Marcus, eventually mastering his usual refined smirk.

Marcus looks away. He would have ignored the thief entirely if his company hadn’t spotted them, and erupted into exclamations with a lack of subtlety that indicated their state of inebriation.

You’d spotted Theo, too, as well as his excited friends. You flutter your fingers in a wave, and then blow a kiss toward the dais, sending a burst of sunlight in their direction. The guests ooh and ahh in the sudden warmth. Theo’s eyes close and his head tips back, basking in the light. The crown slips from his head. His face smooths into a serene, unguarded smile, and something squeezes in Marcus’s gut.

If you're still here, reading this story, I love you and I'm putting a freshly-baked cookie in your hand as we speak <3333

Taglist: @pinkninja200, @superwolflock29, @startrekkingaroundasgard, @punkerthanpascal

More on my Masterlist 💖

#marcus moreno x reader #wcbh fic #the thief x reader #marcus moreno x you #casillero del diablo commercial #we can be heroes fic #the thief x you #wine commercial fic #pedro pascal characters #ezra (prospect)

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amethystfairy1 · 4 months ago

Note

Okay, fic is over (I think-) so checking my predictions!

Honestly.... major oversight on my part is that I miiiight have completely forgotten the collars were a thing lol. My bad for forgetting a huge part of the story building was even there, I don't even have an excuse I'd been rereading like stars around my scars and the entire accidental order saga while I waited for updates so that's just a my bad lmao but out of 17ish predictions, 9 came true despite my oversight so I'd say that's pretty good! I was more focused on the fact that in my mind the only way for a relationship to be established would be through a Ren confession, and there was no way that could be verified, since Martyn is really bad at telling when Ren is acting (even when he does pick up on his tells, like his laugh being wrong or just blatantly lying). I really should learn to stop doubting Amethyst by now loll

Anyway here's the predictions that came true:

Martyn POV chapter 3

C3 is the aftermath of C2

Martyn doesn't believe Ren's feelings are genuine

Martyn blames himself for Literally Everything that's happening in the relationship because he "forced this" on Ren and he IS just as bad as the others

Martyn breaks down and apologizes for his intrusive thoughts, thus confessing to them (he's under the impression Ren already knew) causing

a meta-ish conversation about those unwanted feelings not defining someone esp since Martyn is actively disgusted by them

Martyn confession

An actually healthy conversation occurs

We get treebark by the end of the fic!

And side note some honorable mentions:

Martyn runs away again and/or throws up again or something after the kiss because intrusive thoughts just EXPLODED in his mind {this prediction actively didn't come true for the exact reasoning I thought it would, as Martyn himself says, running off would not be great for the situation and would only cause problems}

Flower husbands give relationship advice (they are very unqualified) {I still stand by the fact that these two are the exact type of person who would give unsolicited advice and have no doubts it would only be like 30% helpful}

Martyn breaks down and apologizes for his intrusive thoughts, thus confessing to them (he's under the impression Ren already knew) causing more angsty relationship strain before the resolution {this kinda happened but also not really}

Yeah! I really really loved the fic (my bsf has been hearing me rant about your writing since last year now [haha funny new years joke] and is probably sick of it and my endless predictions and conspiracy theories so I've come to brother you with relentless long asks apparently. Sorry for the consistently space-consuming asks btw I promise I'm not trying to fill up ur inbox, just have a lot to say lol. Good luck with the ask backlog, I look forward to seeing what you've got in store for the TTSBC crew!

I'm so glad you enjoyed the fic!!! I LOVE the long asks and predictions and ideas, I'm just sorry it usually takes me longer to answer them because I wanna take my time and respond to them fully 😭

I'm so glad you enjoyed the fic!! Awhh heck I'm glad you have confidence in me, I try to make sure things are planned out That's why the collar comes into play here, because unfortunately, messed up at this all is, Martyn wouldn't have believed Ren's confession any other way. That's just how it be, sadly. But hey, worked out for them!

I'm so glad you enjoyed it! Thank you thank you!

#fanfic #ao3 fanfic #traveling thieves au #treebark

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danceswithsporks · 4 months ago

Text

Awake- Part 9

Crosshair x f!Innkeeper Reader

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

*not canon to season 3*

Authors Notes: Hey so remember when I told @motte-the-goblin that the next part would be up within the week, yesterday? Yeah so apparently I meant today lmao.

I am…so unbelievably sorry for how long this took and how short it is. Lots of stuff went down since the last update and I’ve just been trying to rebound. As for the short length of this chapter, I wanted to get through everything and get them moving onto recovery but I just couldn’t find an organic way to do it. So instead this chapter came out of it.

As I did last year, I’ll be taking the next month of to reset my brain and prepare for Clone x OC week and

KATSUCON 2025! Let me know if any of you will be there! I’d love to meet up and chat clone wars/bad batch with you all!

Chapter Summary:

You wake up to a distressing call and find yourself called to duty.

Awake, once again you were lying awake in your bed, alone. The warmth that you had gotten used to was gone and in its place was empty coldness. Outside, a storm could be heard raging. On nights like this you’d usually have the door open to your private garden where you’d enjoy the smell of the rain and the cool breeze it brought with it. But not tonight. No, instead you kept everything closed and buried yourself beneath the blankets of your far too big bed as you waited for your com or datapad to ring.

Five months, he’d been gone for five long months. The two of you spoke every once in a while. It started close to three times a week but as the weeks turned into months, it dwindled to once or twice a week. Now it was once every two weeks or so. You’d asked him a few separate times what was going on, but he never told you.

“Takin’ care of some business.” He’d told you a few different times.

You hated it, you hated him. Not really, but slightly. Things had finally gotten better. He was opening up to you and you’d never felt closer. But then he was gone. Just hours after finally opening up to you, he’d left.

You thought you’d be okay. He was just a guy. A paying guest in your inn. But after the first week, you found yourself missing his scent. By the second week, you were missing his warmth and by the third week, you were just missing him. You found yourself pacing around your apartment hoping he’d knock on your door suddenly. After a moment, you’d call him in and he’d join you on the couch. You’d read your book and he’d look through his datapad. Then you’d go and lay in bed, your head on his chest, his hand stroking through your hair and the two of you would exchange more stories about growing up. Maybe he’d apologize for being gone for so long, maybe he wouldn’t say anything at all. You wouldn’t mind either way.

A long groan left you as you rolled over and buried your face into his pillow. It no longer held his scent and that upset you. It wasn’t fair that he’d done this to you, to your heart. Rolling over away from your datapad, you nuzzled deeper into your bed and tried to force yourself to sleep. Stupid, Crosshair. Even if he did call you tonight, you’d ignore it.

*pling pling pling*

You practically dove for your bedside table and grabbed the datapad. “Crosshair?” You didn’t even bother to look at who was calling. It had to be him, right? He would be the only one to call you this late at night.

“Is this Doll?” An unfamiliar gruff voice spoke carefully.

“Who?” You looked at the information on the datapad and realized you didn’t recognize it. “Umm, yes. It is.”

“Good. My name is Rex. I work with Crosshair. I received your information from Echo.” Rex wondered what the time was where you were. Perhaps he’d woken you up?

Oh, Stars. Why did you suddenly have a pit in your stomach? ”what’s happened?” You were sitting up now, your heart in your throat.

“Everything is okay.” He paused. “Well, kind of.”

What did he mean by that? “Where is Crosshair?”

Rex looked over his shoulder at a sound. “He’s here. But…”

“But what?” This was it, he’d tell you Crosshair was seriously hurt, or worse!

The former Captain sighed. “There’s been an incident. How soon can you be here?”

Where was ‘here’? “I don’t know where you are. I don’t have a ship.”

“There is a ride waiting for you. Please come soon.”

The call was quickly disconnected leaving you slightly confused. There was a knock on your apartment door and you rushed to it. You found Echo waiting on the other side. “Echo?”

Echo nodded. “How soon can you be packed?”

-*-

You weren’t sure where you were going. You’d asked Echo a few times during the six-hour trip, all he’d told you was that it was secret. The two of you talked casually about what had been happening. How he was settling into his new role as History of the Galaxy professor at Omegas school and the few missions he’d gone on since the return of Tech.

“He’s thinking of proposing to her, ya know.” Echo checked over the readings of his ship as he spoke.

You looked up from your datapad quickly. “Tech is?”

The Domino twin nodded. “Yeah, showed me the ring today. Made it out of the crystal from his blaster.”

A surprised sigh left your lips. “How romantic.” His blaster, the thing that protected his life.

Echo chuckled. “Guess it is. Think she’ll like it?”

“He could give her a rock and she’d love it. She’s head over heels for him.” You sat back in your seat and stared out the window. “What about Wrecker? Think he's planning anything?”

“He may have asked for some advice on how to propose,” Echo smirked at you, earning a laugh. “You’re not gonna say anything, right?”

“And ruin the surprises? No way.” You winked at the clone before looking back at your datapad. Both your friends would be engaged soon. It was hard not to be jealous. They’d found the perfect men and you were still struggling with your own feelings. You shook the thoughts away quickly earning a confused look from Echo. Clearing your throat, you decided to change the topic. “So what’s going on? Why do I need to go to you guys?”

Echo chewed his lip, trying to think about how much to reveal. “I can’t reveal too much. It’s not my place to. But what I can tell you is that some things went sideways and you’re the only one who seems to get through to him.”

“Echo.” You reached over and grabbed his scomp. “Is he okay? Is he hurt?”

He looked down at your hand before looking up at you. Your eyes were filled with worry and it was clear your nerves were getting the best of you. “Physically he’s fine. I promise.” He watched as you visibly relaxed. “It’s mentally that we’re worried about.”

Mentally? “Why?” Why was he being so roundabout about this?

A long sigh left the domino twin. “Rex will explain it better than me.” He checked over the information on his screen. “Sit back, we’ll be arriving soon.”

-*-

Echo led you into a large structure that had seen better days. Walls were crumbled around you and there was a clear draft. In the center of the room was a holo table with many clones around it. A blonde one stepped away after seeing you enter the room. He walked over and extended his hand to you.

“You must be Doll, I’m Rex.” He took a moment to look you over. You were a cute little thing. Bright eyes and a nice figure.

You shook his hand gently. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. I’ve heard a good amount about you.”

Rex glanced at Echo. “So have I.” He motioned to the men around the table. “This is Howzer, Gregor, Kix, and Cody.” Each man raised a hand as Rex said their name.

“It’s nice to meet you all.” You nodded to each one. It was odd seeing so many clones in one place. Not only was it the ones around the table, but also a few others walking around the room moving crates. Now that you saw so many together, you could see the way they all looked the same. It was almost a shock compared to how the batch looked. “Where is he?”

“This way.” Rex motioned towards an opposite door.

You followed the blonde clone closely. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Rex paused and turned to face you. “The target that we’ve been tracking has vanished.”

“Oh.” Why would that require you to come here?

“He was a high-priority target for Crosshair. He’s not taking it well.” A loud sound came from the room nearest your group. “Echo, you should make sure the room is safe for her to enter.”

Echo nodded, but before he could move, you reached out and stopped him. “It’s okay.” You stepped around him and reached for the door panel.

“If anything happens, call out for us,” Rex spoke sternly. He’d protect you if need be.

“Echo!” Kix ran towards the domino twin quickly. He stopped in front of Echo slightly out of breath.

Echo turned to face the medic. “Kix? What’s going on?”

“Gregor thinks we found her. Come on.” He motioned back towards the main area.

“Dove?” When Kix nodded, Echo felt the air leave his lungs. Finally, they had a lead on her. He looked back at you quickly and when you nodded, he took off.

Your eyes returned to the door in front of you. Taking a deep breath, you pressed the mechanism in the door and it slid open. You gasped at the sight before you.

The room was an absolute mess. Clothes had been flung everywhere. A chair was overturned against the wall and even the cot had been flipped over. Crosshair sat on the side of the flipped cot, his head in his hands.

“Crosshair?” You carefully stepped into the room. He didn’t react to your voice. Rex cleared his throat loudly behind you but even that didn’t grab the sniper's attention. You carefully walked over to him and placed your hand on his shoulder. “Crosshair? It’s me.” He jumped at your touch.

He lifted his head from his hands and turned to face you. “D-Doll?” Why were you here? No! No. No. No! You couldn’t see him like this.

He’d changed a lot since the last time you’d seen him. It had been nearly two months since he’d holo called you. His hair was longer now and so was his facial hair. A full beard was now visible. It was clear he hadn’t been sleeping, the bags under his eyes were massive. “Oh, Crosshair.” You moved your hand from his shoulder to his cheek.

“How are you here?” He’d forgotten how beautiful you were. The holos on his datapad did you no justice. His eyes shifted to Rex behind you. “You brought her here?”

“No, Sniper.” You kneeled next to him and took his hand in yours. “I asked Echo to bring me here. I haven’t heard from you in a while. I began to worry.” Pulling his hand up to your face, you placed it against your cheek. “Why didn’t you contact me?”

Touching you was like being home. He sighed and pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry, Kitten.” A few tears ran down his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

You took a deep breath. This was worse than you could have expected. Your free hand slid behind your back and you motioned for Rex to leave the room. After a moment you heard the door slide shut. Standing, you released Crosshair’s hand and walked around the overturned bed. Once in front of him, you sat on the floor between the bed and the wall. “Come here?”

Crosshair didn’t hesitate for a moment to fall to the floor next to you. He moved to bury his face into his hands but was stopped by you grabbing his shoulders and pulling him into you. He buried his face into your shoulder and began to shake. The tears that burned his eyes fought to break free, but he couldn’t let them out. You couldn’t see him like this, weak and broken. He felt your hand press against his back before moving up and down. He waited for the questions to come…but they didn’t. Instead, you simply held him.

You’d wait as long as you needed to until he was ready to talk. For now, you’d simply hold him and let him know you were there.

-*-

Two long days passed by before he was ready to talk. You’d spent that time switching between holding him, cleaning, fixing the room, and feeding you both. Meals were brought three times a day to both of you by Rex or one of the others. You hadn’t seen Echo since the day he brought you here.

Howzer, the one with teal on his armor, had been kind enough to bring a second cot for you to sleep on. The moment he’d left the room you’d pushed the two cots together. You held Crosshair each night, keeping him close to you. The only time you heard his voice was when he spoke in his sleep. It was hard to understand what he was saying. Only a few words were clear.

“Hunter, duck!”

“Tech, on your left.”

“Easy shot”

“Hold on Mayday, hold on.”

Mayday was mentioned a lot during those first two nights. Crosshair had told you very little about the man, the topic being a sensitive one for him.

On the third day, your curiosity finally got the best of you. Crosshair was still deep asleep when you woke up. You would have stayed by his side and waited for him to wake up like you had the last two days. But today, you just couldn’t get Mayday out of your mind. You carefully removed yourself from his arms before slowly getting off your cot. You slipped on your boots, pulled the only long-sleeved shirt you’d brought over your head, and prayed that the pants you wore would be enough to keep you warm. You’d been in such a hurry to pack that you hadn’t even bothered to ask Echo what the weather would be like. You’d simply packed two outfits plus the one you were wearing when you arrived. Two of those outfits had short sleeves while only one had long sleeves. The only reason why you’d stayed relatively comfortable these past few days was because you’d been as close to Crosshair as possible. The clone and the blankets on the cots were enough to keep you warm.

The door opened with a quiet whoosh as you exited the small room. While inside with him it didn’t seem that small, now that you were out in the hall and looking back into the room, you realized how little it was. Crosshair shifted on the cot and you worried he was about to wake up. But when he settled once more, you sighed and let the door shut. It took you a few tries to find your way back to that main room you’d been in when you first arrived, but after a long fifteen minutes, you found it. You hadn’t realized how early it was when you were in the room. But now that you stood in the almost empty control room, you realized just how early it truly was.

“Howzer?” The teal clone stood by the holo table with a mug in hand. Steam swirled in the air above it and the familiar scent of coffee filled the room.

Howzer looked away from the holo table in surprise. He hadn’t expected to see you this early and without Crosshair. “What are you doing up this early?” The Captain looked you over before catching the way you shivered slightly.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You shifted as he walked to the side of the room and picked up a dark bundle off one of the crates. He crossed the room over to you and held the bundle out to you. “Thanks. You?”

“One of us is always on duty at the table. Just in case someone contacts us.” He watched you unfurl the bundle and look it over before pulling it on. “Trouble sleeping, huh?” He stepped closer to you and tugged the robe gently. Adjusting it so it sat better on your shoulders and didn’t pull on your neck. The Jedi that had owned it before would have been happy to know it was being used again.

The robe was so warm and comfortable, that you sighed softly as warmth began to spread through your body. You nodded as the clone in front of you adjusted the garment a few times before stepping away from you. “Got a lot on my mind.”

Howzer motioned towards the other side of the room. “Like what?”

You followed him around the holo table and towards a steaming pot. The scent of caf was becoming stronger and stronger. “Well…” you chewed your lip in thought for a moment, trying to figure out how to breach the subject. “I was wondering something. Were you…part of the Empire too?”

He froze at her question, the clean mug in his hand shaking slightly. “I was.”

“What…was it like? Did you know Crosshair then? Did you also have a Jedi?” The questions seemed to race out your mouth before you could stop them. You took a long breath to try and stop the rest. “Sorry”

Howzer shook his head and fought off the urge to laugh, you were cute. He finished pouring you a cup of coffee before answering. “It was different, I did, and yes, I did have a Jedi.” He passed you the mug. “Drink this, it’ll help ya warm up.”

You blushed slightly before taking the mug. It felt nice in your cold hands. “Thanks.” You took a small sip of the warm drink and visibly recoiled slightly. That was some of the worst tasting coffee you’d ever had.

A chuckle left Howzer as you took your sip. “Not the best tasting stuff in the galaxy. But it gets the job done.” He motioned over to a set of crates set up around a larger crate. “How about ya start at the top and I’ll answer what I can.”

“What was your Jedi like?” You sat on one of the crates and placed your mug on the larger crate that seemed to act as a table.

“He was a brave and caring man. Don’t know how far my men and I would have made it without him.” He stared down at his mug for a few moments. “We lost him a few weeks before everything changed.” Howzer looked towards the holo table. “How much has he told you about what happened?”

You took another sip of the warm drink before answering. “He told me about Order 66 and what it entailed.”

Howzer gave you a softened look before shaking his head. “You honestly shouldn't know about it. Not the type of things civs should hear about.”

“Civs?” Your head tilted to the side.

“Civilians.” Another voice echoed across the empty room.

“Cody.” Howzer nodded to the ex Marshal Commander. “Doll had some questions that were keeping her awake.”

Cody nodded and stroked his growing beard in a way that Rex had told him reminded him of Kenobi. “I see.” He walked over to the two of you as Howzer stood and grabbed another mug of caf. “Like what?”

“What it was like being a part of the Empire. What his Jedi was like. If he knew Crosshair then.” Cody was the one in orange. You could clearly see small spots of gray poking through the paint, probably best you didn’t ask about that. Your nails tapped against the ceramic of the cup in front of you. “Could I ask the same questions to you?”

“You can.” Cody settled on the crate and watched Howzer bring over the coffee. “I worked in the Empire for a while as well. Even worked side by side with Crosshair. Never seen a more skilled sniper in my life. The last mission I did was with him.”

“What do you mean the last mission?” Your hands gripped the mug in your hands tightly, the warmth of it finally getting to your bones.

The once Marshal Commander took a long sip of his drink before speaking. “Soon after that mission, I tried to walk away from it all. I’d seen too much and been through too much. I couldn’t take it anymore. Someone higher up heard about my plan to go AWOL. I was captured before I could even try to leave and taken to Tantiss. The same place Crosshair would later be imprisoned at.”

“Oh.” You swallowed. Maybe it was best to change the subject. “Did you have a Jedi you worked with?”

“Yeah, he was an amazing General. Saved my life more times than I can count.” And yet he’d killed him. Shot him down mercilessly. He remembered the feeling of seeing his body move on its own and fire at him. The way he fell from that wall. “Wore a robe just like the one you’re wearing.” He motioned to the garment wrapped around your body. A part of him wanted to reach out and touch it, to feel the familiar material against his fingers at least one more time.

“This was a Jedis robe?” You looked down at the dark brown garment. A Jedi had worn this before you. You looked at Howzer quickly for verification. The teal clone nodded to you before looking away. “I feel honored then.”

The three of you fell into silence for a few minutes. Simply enjoying the silence and the company. Cody was the first to speak.

“Something tells me there’s more to why you couldn’t sleep.” You awkwardly shifted across from him and it was all the answer he needed. “Ask away.”

You took a long breath. “What do you know about a clone named Mayday?”

-*-

You sat on a crate outside on the landing pad deep in thought. The robe was still pulled tight around you. The sun was up now and slowly warming the air. Thoughts on what you’d learned about Mayday ran through your head. You knew he was dead, that was something Crosshair had told you. It was how he died that had taken you by surprise. If what you’d read was true then poor Crosshair had been through so much more than you realized.

“Doll?” A familiar voice called to you from the hangar doors.

You turned and locked eyes with the man you’d been thinking of. “Crosshair.”

He quickly moved across the landing pad as you stood up from the crate. The moment he was in front of you he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I thought you left.”

“I wouldn’t leave without telling you. I just needed some fresh air and time to think.” Your face nuzzled into his chest. It was clear he hadn’t showered in a few days, the smell didn’t bother you too much.

“Think about what?” His face buried into your hair and he inhaled deeply. Yes, this scent, your scent, you were his peace.

You hummed softly as you listened to him inhale. Should you tell him that you were thinking about him? About what he’d gone through? About Mayday? “Well…” Your mom would tell you that honesty was the best policy here. “About you and what you’ve gone through and…Mayday.”

“Mayday?” Crosshair pulled away from you and looked down. “Why would you be thinking about him?”

“Because you’ve mentioned him at least thirty times in your sleep since I’ve been here.” You pulled away from him and walked past him. “I know what happened to him, to both of you. Or at least the details that are in the reports.”

Crosshair turned and stared at you. “How?”

A lump seemed to form in your throat. “I asked Cody and Howzer.”

“What?” He stormed across the platform and over to you. “Why the hell would you ask them?”

You turned and faced him, anger boiling inside of you at the way he was speaking to you. “Because you would never tell me!”

‘Stop’ You thought to yourself. This wasn’t on him. What you had learned about that mission from the reports Howzer had found made it clear it was bad. You could only imagine how much worse everything was. A long sigh left your lips as you tried to calm down.

“It’s been almost a year, Crosshair. We’ve known each other for almost a year now. I don’t expect to know every single detail about your life. But I would hope you’d feel more comfortable opening up to me. Especially now when you’re clearly going through something.” You stepped forward and raised your hands to his face. “Crosshair, please.” Gentle hands cupped his face as pure eyes stared into his. “Open up to me? Let me know the real you.”

“You couldn’t begin to understand what I’ve been through.” Crosshair tried to pull away from your hands but found himself stopped. Instead, he shifted his eyes away from yours.

As he looked away from you, you felt your heart drop. The past couple of days had revealed his weaknesses to you. The way he struggled to come to terms with whatever was eating at him had shown you just how deep it truly went. His was so much more than simple nightmares. Whoever this high-priority target was, they had a strong connection to Crosshair. Were they the source of his nightmares? Or just a small part?

None of it mattered to you right now. All that mattered was him and how he was feeling at this moment. It was clear he was nervous about you learning something or worried that you wouldn’t understand and thus be unable to truly help him. But you’d do whatever you could to help him. You’d take him how he was, with all the baggage included, and make him whole once more. You’d push out the darkness and guide him to the light and be his everything.

The realization of how much you genuinely cared for this man, this clone who’d started out as a stranger and a renter in your inn, was astonishing to you. In this moment you truly understood that the two of you were a part of one another now. All you wanted was to ease his pain and for him to be happy. You cared for him so much.

You…loved him.

Your eyes shook as you moved closer to him. “ Let me try, Sniper. Let me be the one to listen to you and know you. Let me love you.” You cooed sweetly to him while stepping forward and pressing your body against his. “Let me be yours, Cross.”

There it was, out in the open finally. You wanted to be his. You wanted to love him and keep him close. To give him all of you and accept all of him.

Crosshair felt like his heart was racing. This was everything he’d dreamed of. Even before he met you. “I…” he gripped your shoulders tightly and tried to push you away even though his heart was yelling at him not to. “I can’t. You can't know the things I’ve been through, the things I’ve done.”

“Crosshair.” You followed him as he tried to push you away. “I want to know everything you’ve been through. Everything you’ve done. The good and the bad. All of it.”

“Doll, you say that now. But once you know the truth there won’t be any way to take it back. I’ve done dark and terrible things.” He hesitated as his body began to shake. “I can’t…I can’t risk losing you. Not yet.”

“Hey.” You reached up and cradled his face once more, making sure he was looking into your eyes. “Nothing you’ve done, and I mean nothing, will change how I feel about you or think about you.” You stood on the tips of your toes and pressed your lips against his. He hesitated at first to return the kiss but soon his arms were wrapping around you and holding you tight. His lips danced against yours in desperation. You pulled just far enough away so you could speak once more, your lips brushing against his. “I promise.”

Crosshair fought the nervous energy racing through his body. He pressed his lips against yours in what he feared would be the final time. “Okay.” He truly hoped you’d be able to keep your promise.

But deep down he feared you wouldn’t be able to.

Tag list:

@rndmpeep @sarahskywalker-amadala @queenariesofnarnia @idoubleswearimawriter @bambambunny @ravenclawbitch426 @jupitersaturnapollo @mzjakao @heylosers06 @dangraccoon @impala1967666 @andrakass2 @ducks118 @motte-the-goblin @rintheemolion @merkitty49 @jediknightjana @onyxtides @moon-wrecked @mssbridgerton @griffedeloup @masterjedilenawrites

#clone wars fic #the bad batch fic #tbb crosshair x you #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshairs bad batch #crosshair bad batch #bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair x reader #Spotify

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nefaricussims · 2 months ago

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My "Choices" Sims-ematic Universe

Many years ago, my friend got me into the app "Choices", which is one of those apps were you play through choose-your-own-adventure stories. Pixelberry's quality has decreased drastically in recent years but I'm still a big fan of their older works. I'm also a big fan of the Sims and CAS so over the years, I've grown a collection of Choices characters remade as Sims which I lovingly call my "Choices Cinematic Universe" (you know...like the marvel cinematic universe...) because they're all living in one save lmao.

I didn't think I would ever share these Sims here but people actually noticed I used Blades of Light and Shadow for the promo of this posepack and the lovely @simsillagrim asked me to share my other Choices Sims sooo here they are!

I didn't always make the whole cast of a book because, well, I only made my favourites lol. Some of these are from 2019 and some were made in the last year so the quality and likeness varies a LOT. I never said I was good at this. 😂 I'm also weird and couldn't decide whether to add MC, the default names or my own so expect a mix of all lmaoo.

Another important note is that 95% of the "It Lives" Sims were NOT made by me. They're made by the AMAZING @alltimefail-sims. I'll explain more when we get to them.

ANYWAY, let's finally start:

I think these were some of if not THE first Sims I made. You can tell by the kind of clothes I chose for some of them 💀 although I did slightly update them for this post. I only made my LIs and Diego & Varyyn because they're one of my favorite choices couples ever.

I cannot tell you how MANY times I've changed Edward. There's something about his face that I just cannot get right. 😭 I do like how my MC looks though. I'll forever mourn this book, it deserved a sequel. :((

Made them around the time I bought Horse Ranch bc duh. BSC was such a silly book, I loved it. And yes, I accidentally called my MC like a character in the book. It was hilarious.

The most recent addition to the CCU! And a joint effort between me and my friend @thatwinglessthing, and by that I mean they did all the work and I just tweaked things on Donovan a little. 🤣 And made my MC of course.

To prevent this post from becoming too long, I won't list every picture individually. Shreya and my MC are almost as old as the ES Sims I think. I've always wanted to make the rest of the Pend Pals but never really got around to it. Ironically, Shreya wasn't even my LI, it was Beckett. 😂 Nik & MC are fairly new and I'm quite proud of Nik tbh.

Random combo but we're nearing the end of the smaller groups haha. Guinevere is still missing her Lancelot, I honestly don't know why I still haven't made her. 😔 I'm super proud of the ROD Sims tbh, especially Mona. They were fairly easy, too. On the other hand, I struggled with TCH, especially Jack. 😭 I LOVE his canon ouftit but I just couldn't get anything remotely close and at one point I just gave up lmao. I do like Kieran's outift though.

Alright, now we're entering It Lives territory. 😂 As I've mentioned before, a huge thanks goes to @alltimefail-sims who made ALL of the It Lives characters and gave them away for free!! I marked it in the pictures as well but every Sim except MC, Noah and Jane were made by them!! And yes, I made an adult Jane. 💔 Her design as well as some of the others are based on the characters' looks in ILW instead of Woods bc that's basically the canon time in my CCU. It's only very slightly visible in the Noah/Jane photo and later in the ILW photos but I even built the cabin where most of Within is set in because I have problems. 😂 If you wanna see that too, let me know! I'm actually quite proud of it haha.

Listen, I know Parker is missing.....but I just do not like him. 😂 Or at least I didn't care about him enough to put him in my game. There are countless other characters who deserve to be added to the CCU before Parker LMAO.

And we conclude the It Lives section with the Within crew! One could also say the founders of this little project as I've made Choices Sims before but it wasn't until I added all the It Lives Sims to my game that I actually made a save file and started playing with them. 😅 MC #2 is missing their blind eye (where the scar is) because I just cannot find any CC for a blind eye on that side, it's always either the other or both eyes?? Technically, they should have 2 cyan eyes as well as they're my Shadow Rowan buut. I wanted to keep the heterochromia.

Annnd last but certainly not least the Sims that started this post. 😂 Technically, you've seen them (minus Kade) before but this list felt unfinished without them soo, here are the Blades Sims again. 😂 Nia and Valax are definitely my favorites, I think they turned out really good and Nia's outift is just PERFECT. They're all a mix of their book 1 & 2 outifts because I did try to make book 3 outfits as well but failed miserably. 💀 So I just chose those I could remake the best. Except Kade because he deserves a cool outift too and not just the same fit for all 3 books. 😭

And that concludes this massive list. 😂 I haven't made new Sims in a while but I definitely wanna keep adding to this save. I'm not sure if anyone out there will ever see this AND read everything but if you did: thank you! And I hope you enjoyed this little insight on my mediocre CAS skills. 😆

#the sims 4 #sims 4 CAS #ts4 CAS #sims 4 screenshots #choices stories you play #playchoices #pixelberry #it lives anthology #it lives in the woods #blades of light and shadow #murder at homecoming #my sims

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heyidkyay · 1 year ago

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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Two

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: hi… I’m back? Idk if anyone noticed I dipped lmao, but! Back with another update of this fic and it’s a deep one, left off on uneven ground last time so here’s me clearing that up:) sort of.

Warnings: emotions. <maybe not needed but like, lots of emoting so. Quite a few references to Matty’s past, drug-use/overdosing, previous acts of slight violent and the usual stuff w him and this fic I guess (all mentions are brief)

ALSO back and forth changes of pov between Mouse and Matty so keep an eye out x

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

Thing was, waking up had never come very easily to Matty. Even as a longtime insomniac.

Sleep came and went in staggered stages. He struggled with falling into it and then struggled with staying there in that languid state. It was almost as though his body was held prisoner by his mind and the thoughts which seemed to forever war there.

The drugs had fixed that, mostly. Stopped his heart. His lungs. And then finally, his brain. Leaving him in this tranquil haze, floating somewhere in between everything and nothing, muting those militant thoughts, blanketing his rampage of never-ending emotions.

It was the numbness that he had craved. The nothing.

By the time he’d been shipped off to his first stint in rehab, he was utterly clueless as to just how terrifying it could all seem without it. What with the crutch no longer there. Reckoned he still had scabs that wouldn’t properly heal from all the time he’d spent scratching in that tiny box room they’d given him. Never really sleeping and only ever blinking awake.

It sort of felt like that now. Opening his eyes to find that the world had tilted sideways once again, the wall slanted and the television opposite morphed longways. He sniffed, feeling the heaviness that immediately encompassed his head as he fought to force himself up onto his elbows.

It was quick, the sudden pressure that ripped through the joints, and he hissed as he peered down to find that the skin had been shred to bits, now blotted with flakes of rusted blood that had to have come from the night before.

“Here.”

Matty blinked blearily, swallowing around a lump in his throat before casting his eyes up slowly to find a glass being shoved towards him. He took it, skin prickling at the sudden chill he was met with and face scrunching up in distaste.

He didn’t move to take a sip though, even with how dry his mouth then seemed, instead rubbed at his tired eyes before he dropped his hand completely to find Ross already settled on the adjoining armchair. Matty realised a beat too late that he must’ve passed out on the man’s settee, just as a forlorn feeling settled somewhere in his stomach, the evident reminder of the promise he’d been given the morning before hitting him.

‘You can even head back here after if you want.’

He’d wanted. He was forever wanting when it came to her. But he could hardly even recall making it through Ross’s front door, let alone contacting her at any point last night. Brow furrowing over how much he would have had to have drunk.

“Time’s it?” Matty forced himself to ask, voice more guttural than he was used to, grogginess seeping into the edges of it as he settled himself a little better on the settee. He took a small sip of the water, testing the weight it would leave in his lead filled stomach before taking a couple more larger gulps. He settled it down on the console beside him after and then chanced another glance over at Ross, who looked as much a state as Matty felt. “Hm?” He tacked on when he was met with a bland look.

“Just gone one.”

Matty’s brows shot up at that, before he slumped further into the settee cushions. His head now ached something awful and he felt flushed to fuck, sweat causing the back of his tee to stick to the curve of his spine. “Shit.” He muttered unhappily, the familiarity of a migraine already setting in.

The word was met by a drawl chuckle. And look- Matty had known Ross for far too fucking long not to automatically hone into the odd quirks or reactions the bloke tended to favour, which was why he was already frowning when he squinted back over at him.

Ross had since turned his head against the back of the armchair, enough so that Matty could now see the darker sheen that sat beneath his lidded eyes whilst Ross’s gaze flickered over him. He didn’t say a word, merely chucked Matty’s own phone his way.

Feeling his forehead pinch, Matty forced himself to grit his teeth against the flare of pain that shot through his ankle when the thing purposefully missed his open hand and hit the bone of his ankle. “Fuck’s wrong with you?” He snarled at the oversized twat, picking the poxy thing up before rubbing at the offended joint.

Matty wasn’t offered up much of an answer though, what with Ross silently shaking his head at him. So he rolled his eyes in addition, lifting a finger up towards his face to rub at an eyelid before he finally managed to flip his phone the right way around and get a good look at it.

[HOMESCREEN]13:02

News 21 mins ago Back on a bender, Healy?The 1975 frontman was spotted out last night in an argument which quickly escalated and ruined a certain band member's birthday celebrations…

Twitter 28 mins ago Topic - music@/The1759: Matty captured in a deal gone wrong down in London?? Nahhhhh we all saw the relapse coming but this is just insaneeee...

BBC News - UK & World Stories 43 mins ago Matty Healy takes family bonding to whole new levels Hit singer spotted with girlfriend's son in an altercation whilst out in London earlier this month!

Messages 1hr ago Hann Ring me when you see this

The Independent 12:09 Singer, to the international band known as The 1975, was seen multiple times over the coming weeks in a variety of altercations that hinder his so-called sobriety, one of which was pictured and also witnessed by the young son of the frontman’s most recent fling. ‘Mouse’ as dubbed by her radio show, MouseOnAMic, has yet to comment on the behaviour concerning both her boyfriend and child, we continue…

News 11:44 This is how it starts! Matty Healy’s road back to rehab? Police were called in to break up a celebratory party held on the stretch of Soho in the early hours of this morning. Many faces were pictured amongst the masses, but most noticeably was singer Matthew Healy of The 1975, who was seen outside of a nearby club arguing with another man holding a bag..

Had you ever felt the floor just slip out from under you?

Or maybe even the way that the Earth seemed to suddenly stop spinning, enough so that you could feel every little thing that was happening inside of your body?

The swell of oxygen being forced out of your lungs.

The rush of blood attempting to find the place of impact, susceptible to the sudden pain that’s been felt.

Or even, the pulsing beat of every desperate squeeze your heart made in the very tips of your fingers?

There was a sudden sickness that clawed at the cage that bound Matty's chest together, thickening the walls of his throat and heavy enough that he had to inhale so deeply that the air demanded the bile to retreat back, back, back... Until his gut was the only thing churning and all he’d been left with as the most bitter aftertaste.

It was everywhere. Plastered all over Twitter, mentioned in every news outlet around for miles. Just there. Taking up the screen of his phone- and every other fuckers- without so much as a warning. Pictures, stories, accusations…

Evidence, a part of his twisted mind whispered.

But it was. A trail of wrongdoings which had led right back to that very day he’d spent with Teddy.

Teddy-

God, how the fuck could he have been this mindless? This fucking blind. How had he messed up so badly?

It didn’t feel immediate, the way he moved to grapple his phone, scrolling in search of her name, for her contact, but it was. It was just instinctive. Thoughtless, how suddenly overwhelming the need to hear her voice was. To make sure that she was alright. Not wondering over whether she’d still be there waiting for him- no matter how heavy that thought now weighed on his dreaded mind. He simply needed her to be alright. And for Teddy to be none the wiser. For him to be okay. Just okay.

He remembered bits and pieces. It was slowly coming back now. An old face. Being offered something or other. He’d refused. He remembered he told the guy no. He’d been tempted, fuck had he been so tempted. But he knew better. Deep down. And he remembered saying no. Remembered pieing the guy off, having a light laugh, backing away. But then there had been a throw of hands, a split lip, the ringing crack of a jaw that had made his mind spin with flashbacks of Luke. Of the roof. Of his face hitting the cold empty pavement.

Matty could vaguely recall shouts and calls. George’s wide eyes. Ross’s hands gripping his arms. Hann already on the phone.

Tempted.

He’d been tempted.

It was that thought which played on an endless loop in his head whilst the ring of his phone echoed out into an otherwise silent room.

A flash of faces rattled across the forefront of his mind; expressions, voices, the need to please, a need to entertain.

She didn’t answer. The line went dead.

So he tried again.

Then a third time.

“Fuck.” Matty muttered breathlessly to himself, the panic in his voice breaking up the quiet that stretched between one ring and then the next.

She didn’t answer.

–

Thing was, I’d always known it had been coming. As pessimistic as I was.

But hope was a fickle fucking thing. It made me cut the tip of my tongue on the front of my teeth to keep from ruining perfect moments with thoughtless words. It found its way into the little things I had done and still did. It allowed me just a second to smile, for no other reason than simply being. Than belonging.

Because that was what hope did.

It was also the very thing which had forced me to let my guard down, for those walls of mine to slip. It had granted him entrance into the life I’d so steadily built for myself on rocky foundations and borrowed time.

It had broken me so easily and effortlessly. Wrapped me up in nothing but an empty pang of regret that rang out for miles and miles.

I stared blankly up at the ceiling laid out above me, counting down the minutes until Teddy finally woke once more. Only this time it would be from the sun rising up over the overpass, rather than his mum slipping in to curl up beside him in the early hours of the morning when it had all grown too much. Her need to know that he was okay, her helpless guilt and the pain which had felt all-consuming.

I wondered over the times Matty had been in here with him, putting Teddy to sleep, laughing together, telling him drawn out stories and singing old melodies. I wondered what he’d been thinking in those dotted moments. If he’d been thinking anything at all.

I questioned how stupid I had to have been, how blind to not have seen it. The lies, because he'd done it so effortlessly. The web he had spun, just in an attempt to deceive me. All laid out before my fucking eyes. And he hadn’t even had the decency to tell me to my face. No, instead I’d had to watch it all unfold alongside the rest of the world.

My tongue licked over my lower lip which had since been bitten raw, having dragged it between my teeth in both panic and pity. Because even though I was angry, a bigger part of me still cared. Still continued to worry. Because oh, how I worried. And wasn’t that the most depressing part?

Here I was, concerned about him, whilst he was out doing whatever, fucking whoever, taking whatever. I’d seen the fucking pictures. I’d seen them all. Scrolled and scrolled until I’d come up to the last fuck-off headline. Until his face had morphed into somebody else, and then someone else’s after that.

The reasonable half of me, the half I was attempting to stamp down and drown out, also knew that what you saw online wasn’t always what it appeared. But still, it looked too much like my biggest fucking fear being brought to life to care enough. I simply wished to have him here, so that he could either explain himself to me or so that I could use him as an object to simply scream at. To rally against.

Because I couldn’t believe he’d gone and done the very thing I'd been so terrified of. That he had done it, and that he then had lied to me. That he had chosen to drag my fucking son into it. Into his fucking mess of a life! After-

After everything I’d given to him.

The thought made me question how much I was worth. How easily I could be tossed aside and shit all over.

A hand tightened around my wrist then and my tired eyes startled over to where a matching set now peered right back at me. Though these eyes were accompanied by a sleep filled smile and not haunted like mine.

I reached up to run a hand through Teddy’s soft curls, thumb brushing over his hairline before it trailed its way down the slope of his tiny nose. “Morning, lovely.”

My chest tightened at the hold Teddy found on my arm then, tucking himself up under it so that he could bury his face into the crook of my neck, those little hands of his coming up to clutch at the fabric of my shirt. I chuckled softly, unable to do much else with the surprise that coursed through me, and hugged him back.

“You okay?” I murmured into his hair, pecking the crown of his head and willing the tightness in my throat to go away. I wouldn't cry, not now.

“Sleepy.” Teddy answered me and I felt him smile against my skin when I chuckled quietly, dragging him even closer to me.

“You know what? Me too.”

His little hand started to gently pat my back then and it broke my heart that little bit more, “Stay here, ‘kay? Keep sleepin’.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, enough so that I was too scared to even speak, so instead I merely nodded, hoping that he’d feel it and somehow know.

“‘Kay.” He repeated after a moment in a hushed whisper, fingers clutching at the back of my shirt, “Love you.”

I bit down on my tongue hard enough to warrant some bleeding, the taste of bitter metal slowly filling my mouth whilst I willed myself to be strong. To not cry, not in front of him. Never in front of him.

“Love you too, baby.”

–

He’d wanted to go charging over there.

Mid panic-attack, itching for a drink, or a fucking fix. Fucking anything to keep his mind from imploding the way it currently was.

He wanted.

He so desperately wanted.

He’d shucked on his boots without much thought, paying heedless wonder to Ross’s words, his desperate attempts to get him to listen. ‘Cause it was all for nought.

His chest burned with a fearsome ache that could light pyres. It was all that he could focus on to get him through the front door of Ross’s flat and out into the hallway. There was only one other door on his floor, on the far end. Though it was empty, Ross having bought it out, loaded enough now to not have to fret about futile things like neighbours.

“Matt! For fucks sake, Matty!” Matty heard Ross stress before fingers were catching around his upper arm, the grip too tight, too overwhelming, stopping him in his stride.

Not even thinking Matty wrenched himself away, hard enough that it put a good distance between him and the bassist, pinking the skin of his bicep. His mind was working overtime, tick tick ticking. He was overstimulated and buzzing with an unfound energy that wasn’t unlike a bout of withdrawal shakes.

“The fuck happened last night?”

The sound of his own voice surprised him, forced his shoulders up and his gaze to widen, to hone in on the only other occupant that took up the narrow hall.

“What the fuck happened, Ross!” Matty demanded again, stomper now, inching slowly back over towards Ross and the still swinging door he’d just torn open.

Ross was staring back at him, reminiscent of days Matty had spent denying his ever increasing drug use, or the multiple overdose scares they'd been forced through. Matty could feel his pulse jumping beneath his skin now, hands shaking to the rhythm of it, but he could not for the life of him take a breath, so focused on Ross and his unmoving form until-

“What didn’t happen, Matty?”

The sting came then. Not just the metaphor for the way Ross’s words had gone and slapped him across the face, no, the sting that threatened to close his throat and wet his eyes. What didn’t happen.

“I need to know, Ross. ‘Cause my head-” Matty raised a trembling hand, dragging the limb down over his face before he was just stood there shaking his head, “It’s fucked. My head's fucked and I, I can’t. I can't remember even getting here. Can’t remember leaving that fucking club or fucking curling up on your sofa! I don’t know what could have happened for me to have fucked up this much.”

A long pause dragged between them then, Ross watching him like an injured stray he wasn’t sure whether or not to lure closer and take home. Whilst the hallway continued on in its stoney silence, not a peep being heard from anyone or anything, only allowing Matty’s hard and fast breaths to break it up and echo out along the walls. Taunting him.

“You didn’t take anything.”

It was both the worst and best thing Ross could have said. Matty’s shoulders slumped with the weight of it and he dipped his head down between the bones of his collar in lieu of an answer. He hadn’t taken anything. But, maybe if he had then there would be a fucking excuse, a way to annul all of his shitty actions. The choices which had inevitably led him here.

“You didn’t take anything,” Ross repeated after antoher stretch of time, eyes flickering back and forth over Matty’s sad face, “but you did fuck off for a while after. Found you slurring and pissed beyond belief down some back alley of another club a mile off. You,” He paused there- stuttered with uncertainty in truth, but Matty fixed him with a terrified look, whole body ceasing with it. “You were with some girl, Matt. She was as gone as you but she said she’d only wanted to help.”

A girl.

Right.

Right, yeah, no that made sense. He’d gotten drunk, she’d just stepped in to help. He, he wouldn’t have-

“And that’s it? You’re sure?”

Ross continued to stare back at him for a second or two, then his body slumped with a sigh, “I don’t know, Matty.”

“You don’t know?” Was his incredulous retort, “What the fuck am I meant to do with that, Ross? Did anything fucking happen or not?” Matty demanded, thoughtlessly taking another step closer. Ross, true to his nature, didn’t move away, merely stood his ground.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.” Ross reiterated with a sharp edge, as close as he’d ever get to shouting Matty knew. “You’re the only one who was, Matty. You go figure it out.”

Matty scoffed angrily, fisting his trembling hands at his side before they could lash out. “Yeah, and how’d you figure I do that then, hey?”

Ross took a breath, hand coming up to rub at his tired face. He shrugged and Matty could see just how exhausted he seemed with everything, with him. “All I know is you’d worked yourself up into a right state before you did your vanishing act, mate. Said something about Teddy, then about messing things up. I tried to talk some sense into you, I mean, we all did. But man, you were hellbent on fucking it all up completely.”

Ross’s throat bobbed and he looked off to the side, out of a nearby window that showcased the looming clouds above, before his gaze trailed back over to Matty’s defeated form.

“One second you were there, and the next you were gone.”

Matty couldn’t seem to find a reply to that.

Could only stand there. Questioning what the fuck he’d gone and done.

…

Hours passed, and then days.

Matty spent each minute trying to right his wrongs, to figure it all out. He’d called, he’d texted constantly. Basically barraged her with the little he had left to give. But heard nothing in return.

Hann had turned up in search of him later that afternoon he’d woken up round Ross’s and his entire life had been shot to shit. The man had practically boxed him back inside the flat and out of the hallway, forcing him to hole up there until the storm he’d created outside died down.

Not that it was much use. The storm only grew, more stories coming out, people stepping forward with fake tales and photoshopped pictures. Ross promised to talk to Mouse for him, but the most he’d been able to manage was an argument with Adi. Which hadn’t worked out all that well for Matty either as it turned out, seeing as how that had only proved to sour Ross’s already shitty mood, eventually putting the two of them on the outs.

Hann had tried too, attempting to contact Squeaks directly instead of through her mate. But had also come up with nothing. He’d been muttering away on the phone to Jamie since though, and Matty knew out of the five of them, it was probably him that Mouse would say something to. So Matty was avoiding him like the sodding plague, which was all too easy to do now that his phone was shattered to bits from a spiteful reaction to yet another unanswered call.

He knew Jamie would tell it to him straight, see. That Mouse could just as easily end things through him properly rather than face to face, that’s if things hadn’t already ended between them.

So day three and Matty was basically bouncing off the walls, having already raided what little alcohol Ross kept in his flat the previous day and worked his way through the last of the smokes Adam had dropped round a couple hours before.

He was ticking with the need to move. To fucking escape the flat he’d been confined to.

He’d also had yet to hear from G either.

Which, Matty couldn’t lie was surprising. So when he wasn’t trying to talk his way out of the flat or make plans to set things straight between him and Squeaks, he was prying Ross and Hann for answers.

Not that it was worth the effort. Neither said a thing. Or well, they’d said the same thing, repeatedly. ‘He’s just busy.’

Busy his pasty fucking arse. If George was anything, it was a decent fucking mate. Even when Matty had messed up time and time again, he’d been there. Fucking found him that last time he’d been face down and coughing on his own bile, hadn’t he? G always came through.

Just not now, it seemed.

Matty’s head snapped up at the sound of the front door opening and immediately jumped up off the settee to round the corner to see just who it was. Then was all too quick to reel back, shaking his head in utter dismay as he walked his way back across the living room and out onto the balcony.

He heard a sigh sound behind him just as he wrenched open the door. “Matty...”

“I’m not doing this today.”

Matty threw himself down onto one of the deck chairs that had probably come with the place and cursed at the feel of dampness that instantly seeped its way into the burrowed joggers he wore. He tutted, sitting forward in the seat and reaching down to see that the chair hadn't managed to keep itself shielded from last night's rain. “Fuck sake.” He muttered under his breath but didn’t make a move to stand, figured he’d probably sat in worse.

He didn’t look back over either when the sliding door opened again and Jamie stepped on out to join him, though he did hollow his cheeks in irritation when said man tossed a pack of cigarettes into his lap and situated himself against the glass railing. “Gonna talk now?”

Matty merely opened the pack up, chucking the cellophane somewhere to the left of him and shaking two out. He stuck one between his lips and put the other back in upside down. Stretching out a hand, he used the other to tuck the pack into the band of his joggers, and then forced a snide smile when Jamie ultimately handed him his lighter.

Two clicks and it was lit, he didn’t spare the man the favour of handing it back to him though, simply tossed it onto the end of the deck chair.

Jamie sighed once more, but Matty figured the older man was more than used to his ever changing emotions by now. Still, he knew he was acting the prick. It was just easier to be a prick and push Jamie away, than let the man fucking hurt him first. Not that he even would, it was just- Mouse, weren't it? Mouse and Jamie were mates, they spoke. They’d been fucking mates before even Matty had thought to even snag her number, before he’d attempted to even try to rid himself of the picture of her his mind had held onto. Jamie would tell it to him straight.

“She’s fuming.”

See?

Matty’s tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, catching on the front of his teeth and relieving the words with a sharp, albeit subtle sting. He swallowed thickly, eyes flickering quickly over to Jamie and then away again. “Like, bad?”

Jamie scoffed out a humourless chuckle and so in turn, Matty scowled, flicking the remnants of his fag ash out before turning to place the glare on the man.

“Yeah, as in on a scale from one to fucking ten, how pissed is she?”

With a heavy inhale- as though the question had been oh so demanding- Jamie looked up at the cloudy sky before eventually trailing his eyes back down again. “I don’t know.” Matty shook his head irritably, but Jamie just continued on, “But what I do know is that she’s messed up over it. Almost as bad as you, from the looks of it.”

And didn’t that just have Matty’s mind going down in a tailspin. He balled a hand up against his right thigh, letting his nails bite into the skin of his palm whilst his unblinking eyes casted themselves out onto the foggy sky rise of London.

A short scuffle sounded and then Jamie was sitting in the chair beside him, though he’d seemingly had the foresight to wipe it dry first. “Look, mate, it’s bad. But if you’ve done nothing wrong, then it’s something you can fix.”

“Nothing wrong?” Matty scoffed, the tick of his jaw keeping him from taking another drag of his cigarette. “Everything I do is wrong, man.” He let his head drop into his hand at that, the tremble of it more prominent now than it had ever been, “I can’t fix it, J. How can I? The fuck would I even start?”

The chill of the city air crawled up over the thin tee that covered Matty's shoulders, wrapping him up in it, but he could hardly feel a thing past the blur of thoughts that crowded the inside of his mind. Still, he shivered, jumping ever so slightly when Jamie’s hand came to settle on the top of his neck.

“Matty, listen to me.”

And that didn't help.

“All I’ve been doing is fucking listening! Listened to Hann, listened to pissin' Ross. Listened when they said not to go charging over there, to give her time, to give her fucking space! But they were wrong. If-” Matty hissed, rubbing at the sting that had settled behind his eyes, rubbing them raw, “If only I could explain! If I could just talk to her. I only want to make sure that she’s alright. To see her for myself.”

The breath of Jamie’s next sigh got swept up in the wind but Matty felt it all the same, but then the man’s hand tightened its hold on his shoulder and he felt Jamie dip his head in a gentle nod.

“I’ll work something out, yeah?”

And with those five words Matty’s head was snapping up, watery eyes honed in on his managers ageing face as though it held all the fucking hope in the world. And at that moment it fucking felt as though it did. Or it could have done.

“Yeah? Don’t fucking say it and then fall through on me, J. I can’t deal with that shit right now.” Matty told the man almost desperately, chest rising and falling aimlessly as he stared back at him.

Jamie simply chuckled, bracing himself with a smile. “When have I ever fallen through on you lot?”

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