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astroboots · 2 years

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Fit to Burst

CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Pairing: Marc Spector x female reader x Steven Grant

Summary: Marc decides to teach you a lesson when you mistake him for Steven.

Rating: really fucking explicit

Warning/content: Marc's dirty filthy mouth, Steven's over-eager mouth, Marc is wee bit jealous, cunnilingus, overstimulation, refraction period? — we don't know her, established relationship.

Word Count: 3.5k (I have no excuse, pure self-indulgent filth)

Astroboot's Masterlist | Thirstworldproblemss' Masterlist | Moon Knight Masterlist

“Does that feel good, love? Think you can come for me again?”

You don't know how many orgasms he's pulled from you already. Everything sounds like it’s underwater. You can't tell if it’s Marc or Steven fronting right now. If it's Marc who is talking to you, or Steven, taking you apart inch by inch, one devastating orgasm at a time.

Love. He called you love. Steven calls you love. This must be Steven.

Steven’s lips come to the inside of your thigh, pressing gentle kisses meant to soothe, but the sandpaper brush of his stubble makes everything inside you that more wound up, your nerves raw like everything is going to splinter.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs, and the soft caress of his breath is searing against your skin, wreaking havoc on you. The low rumbling of his voice, so uncharacteristic of him, is dipped in hunger and greed, and it skitters up and down your spine until it's difficult to breathe. It's a perfect counterpoint to his surprisingly skilled mouth and fingers on you, to the heat spreading under your skin and building to an explosive pitch between your legs.

“Want you to come all over my mouth, yeah?” he says, with none of his trademark shyness, before he dives back in, tongue laving at your slick folds.

You can’t help but give him what he wants.

You come, your cunt clenches down, spasming around the thick girth of his fingers where he has you stretched open. Everything else disappears for a moment, your body weightless with pure unadulterated bliss. You are so disorientated that you are almost certain you are floating in zero gravity. You can’t even hear your heartbeat anymore. Can’t feel it thump against the cage of your chest. For all you know it might have stopped entirely. All you’re capable of feeling is an abstract tingling sensation that buzzes pleasantly in your veins.

Then you hear his voice, soft and adoring, from somewhere above. His fingers slip out of you, and you whine--even overwrought as you are, you feel empty at the loss.

There’s a gentle palm with soft-worn calluses stroking down the side of your ribs. Comforting kisses press your thighs, as he murmurs quiet praises about how good you are for him and how pretty you look like this.

You can’t help but snort a laugh at that last bit, not sure what he’s on about because you’re sure you look anything but right now. Your hair is soaked with sweat and clinging to your temple; your face, sticky and clammy. You’re certain you must look a complete mess as you lie here in a shambled heap on your bed. Your vision is so blurred you can barely see the white of your ceiling, but you're still able to make out the man above you, gazing down at you like you’ve hung the moon in the sky.

“Think you can give me another one, love? Jus' one more, yeah?”

Fucking hell. This man…

He doesn’t even give you a moment to gather yourself. You barely have a chance to nod before the saliva-slicked thumb gently presses down on your clit again. For all his sweet cooing and gentle touch and care, he is always merciless in his pursuit to make you come like there’s a prize for him at the end of it.

"Fucking finally," he huffs under his breath, and if you weren't so completely out of it, you'd tell him it's his own fault for dragging that last orgasm out so long.

As cliche as it sounds, you’re so blissed out of your mind you can’t tell anymore, where the pleasure begins and ends. All you feel is clever fingers already curling inside you again; a greedy hand cupping your breast; a hungry mouth nipping at the hollow of your throat. He’s everywhere, and you spread your legs wider, open yourself up, so he can have every single inch of you.

The bed shifts, and you blink rapidly, trying to clear the watery edges of your vision. After a moment, your eyes finally refocus on the man in front of you.

He’s kneeling above you, cock in hand, as he gives it a slow lazy stroke that makes your mouth water. A slick sheen of sweat graces the muscular line of his shoulder, bathed in amber gold of your bedroom light.

“You alright, baby? Want me to keep going?” The look in his eyes is as gentle as ever he checks in on you to make sure you’re okay. Makes you feel precious and cared for.

The only thing you can do is nod.

“You say stop if it gets to be too much,” he rasps out as lines himself up against you.

The first thrust is deep and consuming, and you cry out as the perfect stretch of him has white sparks burning behind your eyelids. You’re so worked up, everything makes a little bit less sense; mind almost a little bit numb. You can barely think straight and you think to yourself ironically, this is probably why they call it being cockdumb.

And it's not being made better by the way that he’s running his fucking mouth.

"So fucking perfect,” he murmurs into your ear, rasped and breathless as he nips on your ear. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock. So wet and warm. Fuck, you're so tight right now. Always so tight after you come for us."

He stays there, buried inside you to the hilt to allow you some reprieve and to accommodate around him. You can feel his eagerness to move in the way his cock twitches excitedly inside of you. Can tell he’s resisting that very urge when he grips the bedsheets tightly with his fingers until they go bone-knuckled. It strikes heat and pleasure all at once into the pit of your stomach. It’s so good; too much; and it teethers on the edge of the overwhelming.

A warm hand comes to cup your cheeks. He’s consoling you, brushing away the hair in your eyes, and the touch of it grounds you. “Does that feel good, baby?”

His eyes are ridiculously gorgeous, deep and rich, you find yourself easily lost in him. All you can see is his sweet half-smile, one corner of his mouth curling upward just for you. All you want to do in your overwrought state of mind is to please him, to praise him on how good he always makes you feel, so you do.

"So good. Feel so full. No one fucks me like you do, Steven."

He stills.

From above, you see it, the moment his expression changes. Gone is the indulgent softness. The curl of his full lips turned into a scowl. Those deep rich eyes bleed into sternness fixed with a dark glower. You realise a bit too late that Marc is the one inside you now, not sweet Steven.

You try to think back. When did his voice change? His accent? His eyes are narrowed instead of wide adoring affection. Everything about his body language is different, must have changed before this, and how stupid is it that you didn’t notice until now? As much as you hate to admit it, you're just a little bit out of it; a little bit come dumb from how the two of them have made you come again and again.

The next thing you register is the emptiness inside you as he slips almost entirely out of you; until only the blunt tip rests inside you. There’s a look in his eyes, a flash of something determined and almost dangerous, as he adjusts his hips against you.

There’s no warning as he thrusts all the way back inside, in one long and slick stroke back inside you. Deep and hard. It strikes something absolutely fucking devastating in you until it steals away your breath and makes you cry out.

“Fuckohfuck, Marc!”

“That's right, baby.” He leans over with his lips to your ear, voice low and dark and demanding as he rolls his hips, and then grinds deep within you. “Say it again. Who fucks you like this?”

Everything’s sharp and bright inside you; the rush of pleasure that comes with every thrust mind-numbing. You don’t know how Marc expects you to give him an answer; can’t even stutter out the ‘you’ that’s right on the tip of your tongue. Instead all that comes out is a pitiful sob.

"No? Still not good enough for you?” Marc demands.

You thought at first, with what little brain power was available to you, that he was jealous, and maybe there’s some of that in there too, but there’s something else. Something almost teasing that makes you think he’s not even all that upset about your mistake. The bastard that he is, he just wants to capitalise on the opportunity to push you to your limit.

“Our girl is so greedy, isn’t she?” he continues mercilessly, ”Always wanting more. How about—" two hands come to rest on the inside of your thighs, lifting you off the mattress until your legs are hooked over his shoulders as he presses the delicious weight of his body on top of yours, folding you nearly in half. "How about this?"

His voice is pure savage glee, a kid that gets to play and pull apart his toy in whatever manner he wants. Your fingers twist into the sheets, trying to grab on tight because it feels like you are falling off the edge of the very world. Then Marc rolls his hips into you at the devastating new angle and it knocks the breath out of your lungs, tipping you past that very edge.

It doesn't matter that you're ready to repent. Doesn’t matter that you’re trying to moan your explanation in between insistent, merciless strokes. "That's not— fuck, ooooh shit, Marc, I didn’t mean—"

That man is not letting up, and with how hard you came just mere minutes ago, he's already got you so keyed up that you can feel that all familiar pressure and heat settle against the line of your spine with an alarming speed.

There’s a brief hesitation in his rhythm, like his concentration was broken for a moment, and you catch him glancing at the mirror. You wonder if Steven's there telling Marc to stop. Steven’s always looking out for you; would do anything for you, and that includes taking care of you in bed. But when you turn your head sideways, the mirror shows you the same perfect reflection of reality it always does.

If Steven's there, you can't see him. Instead, all you can see is the image of yourself being split open by Marc. How Marc towers over you, with his lean stature. The firm muscles on his back sloping down to the generous curves of his ass like he was a carved marble statue meant to depict the ancient Greek deities themselves. Those thick raven curls furl with heat and sweat against his forehead. He’s so fucking beautiful it’s unfair.

“You looking for Steven to save you?” Firm fingers grip the edge of your jaw, forcing your gaze back towards Marc. “Well too fucking bad. Steven’s not here. You’re stuck with me.”

Alright, nevermind. Definitely jealous then.

Marc’s next thrust drives a strange squeaking noise from your lungs, and you’d probably be embarrassed if you weren't so far gone.

"What was that,—” Marc taunts, huffing out a dark laugh between thrusts, “—did you want me—to stop?"

His voice is unbearably smug, and you almost want to tell him to stop just on principle, but fuck that. You don’t want him to stop. Even though it's so fucking much that it borders on the unbearable. You shake your head frantically. You never want him to stop. “That’s what I… thought,” Marc grits out, thrusting hard on the last word.

He’s driving up against something perfect and molten inside of you, and heat rises up in you like a tide, seething under your skin. You think you might actually be going to come again, but the sensation is immense, nearly unbearable, and you clutch at Marc, whimpering as it threatens to swamp your already overwhelmed and overstimulated system.

“It’s alright. You’re alright, baby,” he rasps out, not even slowing down. “You can take it, can’t you? Take it for me like a good girl.” Then he tilts your hips up even farther, and that’s it. You’re done.

Fierce, electric heat explodes outwards, crackling rapturously through your limbs, submerging you entirely until you lose track of reality for a minute.

When you come back to yourself, Marc is still thrusting into you. The rhythm of it is soothing, drawing out your pleasure in a way you’ve never known before, like you've hit a plateau rather than travelling up and down a mountain. Distantly you note that everything is a slick mess. That you are soaking Marc’s cock with how wet your cunt is for him. You can feel it leaking out of you with every press and retreat of him inside you, dripping down over the curve of your ass onto the bed sheets.

Then, out of nowhere, Marc does stop.

The sound you make is damn near inhuman. Fuck, why?? Why is he stopping when all you need is more of him?

Your eyes flutter open to see Marc staring at the mirror, his full attention focused on his reflection. On Steven.

You don’t know what Steven is saying to him, but whatever it is, has Marc chuckling.

He turns away from the mirror with a toothy grin full of mischief, and he leans back down towards you, pressing his mouth close so he can whisper in your ear like it's a secret; like Steven can't always hear him no matter how quiet he's being.

“He wants me to fuck you harder. Stretch you all the way open on our cock. Make you come again.”

You have no way of knowing if that’s true or if Marc is just saying that to get a rise out of Steven. You can’t exactly hear Steven’s end of the conversation. But it doesn’t matter, because Marc’s doing it.

You don’t know if you want to escape the sensation or demand more of it. But you can’t do either. In fact, you seem to have lost control of your body completely. All you can do is shudder and whine under him as Marc follows Steven’s alleged request and pushes himself hard and deep inside of you—oh God, just like that—again and again.

The pleasure twines and spreads slowly though your heavy limbs until you're completely drunk on the sensation of Marc's cock driving into you. He’s reduced you to a heap of bones, flesh and skin without any sentient thought left in your brain. Until you have lost all other sensation to the point where you almost miss the way that Marc is murmuring a string of filth into your ear.

“That’s right, baby. You’re not done yet.”

You can’t look away from him, the way that sweat is dripping down his collarbone, the mesmerising rise and fall of his chest as his breath is rasping in and out of his lungs.

“Gimme one more,” he says. “You come on my cock one more time, then I’ll fill you up. Make a mess of you, and Steven can clean you up with his tongue.”

This man is the devil.

You don’t know what that makes you when you’re so aroused by the picture he’s painting for you.

You’re exhausted. Every inch of you feels tender. You have been strummed and plucked and pushed over the edge again and again until all of you has become one single raw overwrought nerve. At this point you’re not even sure you’re physically capable of coming again. But still, white heat sparks and cracks and invades your numb limbs until you’re thrumming with it.

He's rutting into you, hips in an uneven jerking place, grinding as if he needs to get deeper, as deep inside you as he can to stake his claim and never leave. And fuck, you wish he could. You want him to fuck you like this forever and never stop.

Your cunt flutters around the thick girth of him involuntarily, and it does something to Marc too. He gasps and swears, hips stuttering forward into you, and it's almost enough.... almost... almost...

"Marc..." your voice breathy, pleading, barely recognizable to your own ears.

"Fuck," Marc huffs out. His hips stutter in its pace. If you didn’t know any better, from the way he closes his eyes for a brief moment, as if to gather himself, you’d think his trademark control is slipping. But then he seems to rally himself and pulls back, almost all the way out.

You clutch at him. If he stops now, if he dares to deny you, you swear to god, you will actually kill this man, or failing that, die on the spot in protest. Your fingers digging into the firm meat of his shoulders, sobbing his name. You need—more, need everything, need him, need to—

“Shh,” he hushes you with a soothing coo, comforting fingers brushing back the sweat-slicked hair clinging to your forehead. “I'm right here, baby. Let go, I've got you.”

His tone doesn’t match his actions. Marc thrusts back in, driving so deep you can fucking taste it, and you dimly realize that you're screaming as the pleasure streaks outward, tearing your world apart.

It’s a flickering light that is dimming and finally dies out from the surge of electricity. Your brain completely loses all higher functions and all that is left is the rush of heat that spreads all over you. It pours and pours until you’re lightheaded and the whole room spins with it. Everything feels blissfully tight; too much and just enough. Then you come.

When you open your eyes, you see those gorgeous dark eyes rolling back, baring the long line of his throat and it’s a beautiful fucking sight. The sharp edge of his jaw, pink pouty lips all shiny and slick from you. You swear those thick sweat soaked curls glisten in the dim light. He’s so ridiculously gorgeous, you can hardly believe he is real.

Marc isn’t far behind you. His cock pulses, spilling warm heat inside of you with a strained moan. Every muscle in him goes rigid against you.

Then Marc collapses onto you, arms wrapped all around you as he lands on top of you on the bed, his firm weight resting on top of you. Both of you are a boneless and sweaty tangled heap against the mattress. His firm chest is pressed against you, so close the beat of his heart is hammering against your skin.

In the silence of your bedroom, your harsh, panting breaths echo as if you just finished the most harrowing marathon of your lives. There’s a gentle hand stroking the plane of your back. It’s so gentle, the touch of it so adoring that you’re not sure if it’s Marc or Steven, but you don’t think it matters much at all.

As you come down, your senses slowly flicker awake. You can feel the soft gentle comfort of a reassuring touch running along your thighs. A warm hand petting you over the wideness of your hip bones, soft stroking caresses to coax you back down from your high.

Eventually, your breaths slow, and he pushes himself up, and away from your chest with shaky arms, until you can see his soft gorgeous face that is practically glowing as he smiles down at you. Utterly boyish, utterly charming.

Steven, you realise. Steven’s back…

“You alright there, love? Was Marc too rough?” His thick brows knit together in worry. An expression of guilt bleeding into his handsome face.

In your exhaustion, you find yourself still breathless as you try to answer him, “Yeah. No, I’m alright,” you pause, and lower your voice, feeling suddenly, inexplicably shy. “I… I liked it."

At your response, that worried expression breaks out into a beaming grin that makes your heart leap and skip several beats with unadulterated fondness.

“Good. That’s good, yeah.”

Steven is a fucking sight onto himself. Your eyes trail downwards, from his chest, that’s glistening with sweat down to his torso and— bloody fucking hell. Your eyes widen at the sight. You don’t even know how, but Steven’s already hard again or maybe he just never went down for the count at all. His other hand is fisting his cock, a slick mess of white lines of cum that’s dripping down the aching length of him as it twitches and jumps with undeterred eagerness.

“Then, um…. Sorry to ask, but do you think…” It’s Steven’s turn to look down bashfully, then back up at you. His cheeks are flushed with a deep pink; hair, a tousled mess with a pleading expression in his eyes, that you cannot possibly turn down.

“Do you think we could go again? …please?”

Dear fucking God, these men. Steven may be all sweet and polite about it, but deep down he’s just as greedy and demanding as Marc. Maybe worse.

You’re not sure how you’re going to survive these two, but you’re going to enjoy the ride.

Dedication and Credits:

@thirstworldproblemss to my most beloved and brilliant co-writer, who stays up with me all night and all day to prawn like no one has prawn ever before. I never have more fun than when I am in a google doc with you, screaming about the beauty of this man and writing out the exact same suggestions to each other at the same time.

@frannyzooey for succeeding to make me cry on a Tuesday afternoon in the office with her kind words and support. You're someone that I'm endlessly proud to call a friend, for your humour, your kindness and your warmth. You are just one of the best humans and I hope you wake up everyday and know that and if you don't, I will remind you everyday.

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cicidarkarts · 6 months

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Last Line(s) Tag

I was tagged by @tales-from-nocturnaliss and you can find her post here! It's last "line" tag, but idgaf, you get two lines. They're basically one line combined anyway.

She hid in Watanuki's chest. His welcome arms shielded her from the world, allowing her to live in the darkness of his clothes and familiarity of his perfume.

A little self-insert comfort fic with Watanuki Kimihiro from xxxHolic. 🖤🖤 I love him. You may not like it but he's what peak f/o performance looks like. I don't have anyone to tag (what a shock); if you see this, feel free to join in!

#fanfiction #writing #fanfic #my writing #cici writes #cici arts #watanuki kimihiro #xxxholic #canon x self insert #self ship #f/o #cute #comfort characters #comfort #writers on tumblr #tag game #last line tag #last line game

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cicinicole-14 · 1 year

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someday —a mcrollins fic

uh hi im new to writing for this fandom, this headcanon of them having two kids (and their specific names) has been bugging me for a while and I finally figured out how to write it. idk if this fandom is still even alive but ive been doing a rewatch of the show with my mom and been all over my mcrollins feels so badly and well this is what happens. anyway, hope you enjoy!

She stares down at their intertwined fingers in a complete trance, lost in thought, in the memories of them.

“Penny for your thoughts, Lieutenant?” His voice startles her a bit.

Their flight to the mainland is long, and she’s not entirely sure what his plan is, but if he’d have her, she’s finally ready to follow him anywhere.

It was time.

Time for her to move on from the agency, time for her to come back home, time to give them another shot if he’d let them.

She swallows the lump back in her throat before telling him truthfully. “Do you ever wonder what our life would be like if you did get to ask me? If I had the chance to say yes?” she ponders, thinking back of the moment out on the airstrip, thinking about the ring she never got the chance to wear and the life she never got to have.

“I'd like to say no but more often than not I find myself lost in moments of us, picturing what it’d be like.”

His answer surprises her a bit, shocked that he did give more than a single thought to their what if or what could have been life.

“Yeah? And what do you picture, Sailor?” She’s intrigued now, to know, to have answers to the clouded haze of a life she wanted to picture with him.

“You and me, at the beach behind the house. Sandcastles. Toys everywhere because our son doesn’t know how to be neat like his parents. Baby monitor on the table because our daughter’s inside napping.”

She could picture it now.

Kids.

A family.

She’s sitting in one of the chairs sipping orange juice from a champagne flute. There’s buckets, shovels, sifters and shells scattered at her feet. She looks up, seeing her two boys splashing in the waves as Eddie wags his tail, swimming right up to the two of them. She watches as Steve takes their boy and throws him up in the air and letting him splash down in the water right in front of him as he breaks out into a fit of laughter.

“Higher Daddy, higher!” he shrieks as Steve heaves him higher into the air.

The laughter fades into cries and she looks to her right, seeing the monitor sitting on the table lighting up as their daughter stands in her crib, babbling away, signaling that she was awake from her nap.

She stands up, catching Steve’s eye and points to the monitor before heading into the house with a promise of being right back as she ascends the stairs quickly and heads into their daughter’s room, quickly getting her ready for the water to meet up with her brother and their father.

She heads back out of the house with the little girl on her hip before wading into the water and meeting Steve and their little boy, splashing gently at his sister, kissing Steve’s lips as she arrives.

A life with him was something she had always wanted, something she’d pictured for so long, but in their line of work seemed so far-fetched and out of the question, but it was something she still yearned for.

“Two kids, huh?”

He nods, rubbing his thumb in circles over her hand. “Closer in age than Mary and I because I regret not being closer to her than I was.”

“It's not too late for that.”

“I know. But she’s on the mainland with Joanie.”

They’ll just have to visit, she decides. LA is beautiful this time of year.

She can see them together, flying with the kids. Their son looking out the plane’s window as she sits in the middle and Steve in the aisle seat holding their daughter on his lap as she sleeps soundlessly.

She can picture Mary and Joanie standing at the arrival gates, signs in hand, waiting for her family.

“I know it’s not Hawaii and there aren’t any leis, but this is the next best thing we got.” Mary says and she laughs, seeing the sign decorated in rainbows and flowers, welcoming her family to the mainland. “Joanie insisted we have a sign.”

She hugs Joan in her arms. “It’s beautiful, baby.”

“I'd like for our kids to know their Aunt Mary and cousin Joanie.”

“They’d have a huge family.” She smiles at this, thinking of the family they ended up with, knowing any child or children they had would have so many people that loved them, blood or not, it didn’t matter to her.

“You name these kids of ours?” She’s beyond curious now of this life he’s pictured for them.

“Jack, after both our dads. Jack Joseph for Joe White—”

“Not after Danny?”

“As much as I like whiskey, I don't want to name our kid Jack Daniel. That's where our daughter comes in. It’s why we had to have two kids or I'd never hear the end of it from Danny.” She bites back a laugh as he mentions the name and nods, agreeing with his thoughts.

“So Danielle?” She says, figuring out their daughter’s name.

“Daniella. We call her Ella so it’s not confusing the two Danny’s.” she nods again, because of course he thought of everything.

She’s cradling her newborn daughter as Steve sits right next to her on the hospital bed and hovers over them. There’s a soft knock on the door before it’s pushed wide open and Jack runs through, Danny hot on his heels, scooping up the young boy before he makes it over to his mother’s bedside, throwing him over his shoulder and then plopping him haphazardly into Steve’s lap as to not disturb the baby.

“Someone here couldn’t wait to meet his baby sister.”

“Yeah, we know it was Uncle Danno, not Jack, right buddy?” Steve eggs on his partner.

“Yeah Daddy.” The little boy agrees and Danny ruffles his hair.

“Uncle Danno,” Steve starts out. “Meet your newest niece, Daniella. We’re calling her Ella because two Danny’s is far too much, we already have you.” Steve introduces the baby, taking her from her mother and handing her over to her new uncle.

“Jack and Ella.” She tests the names on her lips with a smile. She could picture them now, a little boy with dark brown hair and dark eyes, and a little girl with her daddy’s eyes and smile. A family, a life together. “You ever give me that ring?” She jokes with him now, elbowing him gently.

“Yeah, yeah I did. Got down on one knee and everything.” He smirks at her, cockily.

“Yeah?” she raises a brow at him.

“Right in front of Kamekona's shrimp truck with the whole team there to witness. I'm sure I slept on the couch for that one though for it being so public and making you cry.”

They haven't been back on the island for more than four hours, but it was enough time for them to stop back at the house and drop off their things before meeting the rest of their ohana at the shrimp truck. She’s just finishing up an order of Sweet ‘n’ Spicy shrimp when she feels him stand up next to her and step out from the picnic table.

She’s not paying the slightest bit of attention to him, trying to devour as much of the food as she could as she missed it dearly when Danny clears his throat, making her look up.

The rest of the team is sitting there, doe-eyed and smiling, causing her to turn around, seeing Steve down on one knee, holding out the tiny black box, presenting her with the ring he’s had for far too long as the tears well up in her eyes.

“Good tears though, right?” She can feel them starting to prick at her eyes even now.

“Good tears.” He reassures and it makes her squeeze his hand tighter in hers because she can picture it all with him right in front of her. She wants that with him, everything. She sighs softly, letting his words pull her into another universe, one filled with happiness and love and safety. One where she knew exactly the plan for the next morning, one that included school drop offs and homework and dinner on the table and dishes in the sink, not another file with an HVT and a mission for extraction.

“You ever think we’ll have that someday?” She ponders as the plane rocks with slight turbulence.

“I hope so.” He says, staring down at their hands, just like she had been doing.

“Together?” she asks, a tinge of hopefulness in her voice, lingering at the edge as she looks up at his face trying to read him.

“Yeah, Cath, together. I still want all that with you.” He says, staring right back at her with a look in his eyes.

A promise she knows he doesn’t intend on breaking.

She looks forward to whatever the future will bring them, and hopes that one day they’ll get to have all of that and more, but for now she lets the plane take him away and she follows right by his side.

listen the headcanon of them having jack and Daniella wouldn’t leave me so this is what happened… anyway if you want more stories about them, I can be persuaded into writing them possibly so yknow just let me know...

#cici writes #mcroll #mcrollins #steve mcqueen #catherine rollins #mcroll fic #mcrollins fic

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thots4hee · 2 years

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more jay smuts eyy i love your latest post <333

tysm luv!!

#cici writes

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ilycove · 8 months

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The day comes when you find one of Aether's more hidden scars, his bare and muscled back shown to you in all of its glory. Your eyes travel across the different wounds on his back and find a particularly nasty mark. It's healed over well, but it's raised and pink unlike all his other ones. You point it out to him and he freezes up. Do you think he's ugly now? Scars weren't pretty, no no, they were quite the opposite weren't they? Were you going to detest this part of him when you promised to love him whole?

(He wouldn't blame you. He wouldn't love him either.)

Instead, you gently trace the scar and place soft kiss on top of it, like an angels touch, just grazing his skin. He barely even felt it but he knew it was wreak, oh god he knew. Your every touch lingered, The bump of your shoulders or a teasing finger around his waist. everything you did to him made his skin light on fire, electrocuted his heart and brought him to death and back. He discovers the words in his throat with a wobble to his voice, thick and whispery, embarrassment dripping off of the tight seams of his lips. "What are you– why are you doing that?"

You do nothing but hum. A beat passes, two kisses go by, then; "Nobody's ever kissed your scars better, have they?" Aether doesn't reply. He doesn't need to. "That's what I'm doing right now."

Aether spends the rest of his night silent, listening to your addictive voice spill praises of him that he doesn't think are quite true, but that's alright. Even if they're lies, everything sounds nicer when you say it.

Aether spends the rest of his night choking on air, with his eyes glossed with tears. He shouldn't be crying. Teyvat's hero does not cry. It's not like him to cry. But he feels so at home with you, You remind him of a family he's never had.

Aether spends the rest of his night in your arms. He breathes your skin and exhales his doubts. He still feels your lips on his back. He never wants to forget the feeling.

Aether spends the night squeezing your waist for he doesn't know if a tomorrow with you will come. And truth be told, for the world's strongest hero, he is scared. Not of the harbingers, not of the regions he's been, but of you. He's scared of having his last kiss.

Aether spends the night thinking about you. He looks up at your sleeping figure and hums before placing a featherlight kiss on the corner of your mouth.

Aether spends the night knowing your name will forever be the name on his lips.

#(⸝⸝⸝╸▵╺⸝⸝⸝) – writing !#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #aether x reader #aether x you #aether x y/n #genshin impact #genshin impact aether #aether fluff #aether angst #(p.s. if ur reading the tags just know cici saw this first and she's better than u) (half joke)

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fbfh · 1 year

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as with all nsfw works all characters are aged up to 18+ Tristin Dugray wants to fuck you so bad. He's had a huge massive crush on you since he first laid eyes on you, and it's only been getting worse. he wants to touch you, to dig his fingers into the fat of your hips and kiss you until he's breathless and you're whining for him. He wants to touch you everywhere, to learn right where all your sensitive spots are, wants to make you drip down his fingers and cream all over his hand, to know your body more intimately than anyone. He wants to lay you down and fuck you nice and slow, make sure you feel every single thing. He wants your attention, he always has, and that's going to get so much worse when you let him inside you. He just knows you'd get all shy, burying your face into his neck while you cling onto him, leaving scratch marks down his back that tell all the other girls he's taken. You'd be so shy, sighing and trying in vain not to moan while the head of his cock rubs perfectly against your g spot again and again. You're so cute like this, he'd think, not wanting him to see how much he's affecting you, embarrased by the way he makes your eyes roll back and how easily your walls clench tighter around him, but he doesn't miss it. He doesn't miss a thing when it comes to you. Not a single sigh or shudder or stifled moan goes unnoticed. And he would be patient, talk you through it every single time. His hand comes up to hold you closer to him while the other keeps both of you up, and he lets himself revel in the way you cling to him for a moment before he lets out a breathy moan disguised as a chuckle.

"C'mon Mary, don't get all shy on me now..."

Slowly, gently, he'd ease you back down to lay flat against the bed and rest his forehead against yours.

"Easy... easy Mary... just like that..."

He keeps your eyes on him at all times, watching every change in your expression, peppering you with kisses and drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you until you're both tired out. He'd hold you close afterwards, kiss your forehead and keep you warm and cozy, lying on his chest with his arms wrapped around you, make sure you sleep better than you ever have. He's biding his time now, but he believes that will happen. He knows in his gut that you're meant to be in his arms, just like he wants you to be.

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kitty-silly · 11 days

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drinking gay potions at 3am (GONE WRONG!!!)

#kittysilly.art #sparklecare #sparklecare hospital #sparklecare oc #cinya? minya? idk what to name nya x cici/mimi #don't ask about the writing I'm using ibis paint and hope #herti nya #dr nya #oc x canon when i when i when i #this is self indulgent

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f1nalboys · 2 years

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Happy Birthday, Randy - Randy Meeks

my dear beautiful wonderful bff Danny turned 21 recently and asked for a fic of randy turning 21 and how could i ever deny them anything???? anyways heres a cute fluff piece i wrote, lots of people are mentioned bc its my universe and everyone in the first two movies are alive and best friends!

not explicitly romantic between reader and randy but u can read it as that if you’d like!!!

WORD COUNT: 1176

WARNINGS: alcohol mention, weed mention, cursing i think (?), fluff babey!!!!, not proofread <3

“What do you mean you’re not doing anything for your birthday, Ray?” Randy walks down the hallway with a sigh, pointedly ignoring your question. The two of you were leaving film class, it was Friday and exactly two days before Randy’s 21st birthday, and he had just said he had no plans for it. “It’s your 21st! That’s a big deal!” “Not that big of a deal,” He huffs, holding the door open for you. You squint your eyes at the sun and then at Randy. “What? I mean, it’s not like I’ve never drank before!”

“Yeah, but it’s your first legal drink!”

Randy snorts at your enthusiasm. His birthday was the last in the friend group, happening mid September, and he was as lucky as to be able to see what a birthday for a 21 year old would look like six times now and he can’t say it was his style. Mickey and Billy had a joint birthday party and the cops had gotten called within the first three hours. Sidney’s and Derek’s were the tamest, but being surrounded by theater geeks (as Randy so lovingly called them) for five hours wasn’t very fun, though the drama he learned throughout the night definitely helped.

Cici, Tatum, and Stu all decided to throw a massive party at Stu’s place and Randy had gotten plastered, waking up without his shirt and a lot of Sharpie drawings on his face. He can’t remember most of that night to be able to properly rank it. “Seriously, Y/N, all I really want is to just have a chill night home. Plus I have class that Monday and -”

“God, you’re such a geek, Meeks,” The familiar voice has Randy rolling his eyes. Stu walks up and falls into line beside you with a grin. “Thinking about school like your birthday isn’t coming up! C’mon, man! Live a little, get hungover and stay at your place and be miserable! That’s how every 21st should go!”

“Guys, seriously, I’m fine,” Randy says with a roll of his eyes, cheeks beginning to burn. “Besides, you guys know that’s not really what I’m into! I’d much rather hang out with you all and watch some shitty movies and eat pizza and some drinks and maybe a board game or two.” “A board game?!-” You slap Stu in the chest and he hisses, rubbing at the spot. He wants to say something, make fun of Randy for wanting to spend his 21st birthday in his shitty dorm room watching Killer Klowns from Outer Space with some cheap beer and a pizza with fucking Monopoly on the table instead of going out to a bar, but he doesn’t. Instead he lets you throw an arm over Randy’s shoulder and rolls his eyes.

Randy tilts his head down at you, an eyebrow raised. “Then we’ll do that! It’s your birthday, Ray, it should be enjoyable! We all got to do our birthdays the way we wanted so you get to too!”

“Yeah, who cares if I’ll be bored out of my mind!” Stu says and Randy is hit by a small wave of insecurity that Stu immediately detects. He deflates ever so slightly, coming to stand at Randy’s other side and throwing his arm overtop of his shoulder as well as your arm. “Actually, now that I think about it, it does seem fun. Can I bring some weed?”

“Stuart, if I ever decline free weed, shoot me,” Randy says with a grin.

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

The next two days came and went, Randy focusing on school and ignoring the dread he had in regards to his birthday. He knew what you had said but a part of him, one larger than he wished to admit, assumed you had forgotten. After the initial conversation with you and Stu the topic of his birthday or his plans hadn’t been brought back up all weekend.

This would be his first birthday without his family. They were away and though he knew the second they were back in town they would take him out for a celebratory drink, he still felt sad. After getting up at 8am and heading to the library to study for a few hours, he was finally back to his dorm room.

Randy unlocks his dorm room and flicks the light on, jumping at the loud noise of shouting. “Happy Birthday!” It takes a few blinks for Randy to truly understand what he was seeing but when he does, he breaks out into a smile. The walls and ceiling were covered in balloons and streamers, a large banner hanging from his hallway that read ‘Happy 21st Birthday Randy!’ in green foil letters. You had gotten the entire group together and spent the last two hours decorating and making sure everything was perfect for when Randy arrived back home.

“You guys did this for me?” He asks, swallowing hard, trying to fight back the tears. Being the closest to the door you wrap your arms around him and squeeze tight, giving him a big hug, before ushering him inside and closing the door behind him. Gifts were covering the coffee table and he turned his head towards the kitchen at the smell of pizza.

“‘Course we did Ray! We love you and wanted you to have a good birthday,” Cici says, handing him a solo cup filled with…something. He knew it was liquor by the smell but when he looked over the kitchen counters all he saw was take out boxes and paper plates. “Don’t worry, we’re not planning on getting you hammered. Just wanted to loosen you up so you could actually relax and enjoy your birthday with us.”

Cici gives Randy a quick hug and everyone does their rounds, wishing him a happy birthday along with Derek and Stu ruffling his hair and Mickey planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Randy isn't even aware of the fact they had slowly pushed him towards the couch until he was sitting in front of the comically large pile of gifts and felt everyone's eyes on him.

He opened each gift carefully, his heart swelling, thanking everyone for their gift. It was almost too much, the sheer happiness he was feeling, but then the gift wrapping was cleared away and food was given out and they all surrounded the tv and gave Randy the choice of movie and he truly thinks he could die happy like this.

“Halloween, obviously,” He says and Stu whoops, putting in the vhs and Mickey dimming the lights. You were sat next to him, quite close due to the fact only Mickey, Billy, and Cici were sitting on the floor. He leans his head over, eyes glued to the screen, and whispers to you. “Thank you for all of this, Y/N. Seriously.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Randy,” You say and when his eyes dart towards you he just barely catches the glint in your eye. “We haven't even brought out Uno yet. I’m not going easy on you just because it’s your birthday.”

#f1nalboys works #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys masterlist #randy meeks #randy meeks x reader #randy meeks x y/n #scream #scream 1 #scream 2 #scream 1996 #scream 1997 #billy loomis #stu macher #mickey altieri #cici cooper #derek feldman #sidney prescott #tatum riley #just some fluff bc i love he

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innocencel0st · 2 months

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@aranostra

It was late, well past visiting hours. Tatum had brought Cici clean clothes so that she could change and not be covered in Randy's blood once he eventually woke up. But she'd otherwise not left his side since being put in a recovery room.

Her phone was propped up on the bedside tray playing The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. She laid on the edge of the bed beside him, trying not to cry. The doctors said he'd be fine, that he'd make it. But since he hadn't woken up yet, Cici was still scared. She held his hand in hers, her head resting on his chest, just over his heart. The constant beep of the monitor wasn't sufficient. She needed to hear it, feel it. But she was mindful of all the wires and tubes attached to him, careful not to pull on any of them. Fingers of her free hand gently traced the line of the scar left from the first time he'd been shot.

She was tired, but she wouldn't let herself sleep. Her eyes were red and puffy, burning with exhaustion. But she was determined to be awake when he woke up. Just being in the room wasn't good enough, she didn't want Randy to be alone when he woke up.

#aranostra #muse; cici #tatum and stu are too happy right now #so i had to write something sad before i go to bed lol

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toasty-self-shipping · 9 months

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The hot pink gal herself!

#I just done writing for more stuff for d-sides cici so if anybody interested I be happy to tell!#my art #fnf self insert #my self insert #self shipping #self shipping community #🎶🎤 (cici)

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cicidarkarts · 4 months

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Blood Defied - 12: Reprieve

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The next morning snuck up on her. Its light streamed through a crack in her curtains, falling across her eyes. She heard the hushed rustling of Fran's closet, waking her further. Her body ached a bit. As Credence stirred and stretched, so then did Ominis.

"Sorry, Credence," said Fran. "I hope I didn't wake you." "Um, no, the sun woke me up."

The drapes around her bed hid their still nude bodies, giving them privacy to shake off their sleep and collect their clothes. When Ominis grabbed his pants, his wand holster fell upside down and sent the wand rolling across the floor.

"Throwing your wand at me?" Fran teased. "Hey, wait a minute, this isn't your wand. You got someone else in there with you?"

Fran's shoes tapped upon the floor. Credence and Ominis shared a moment of panic as they pulled on their shirts and pants. Once Ominis buttoned his final button in tandem with Fran's final step, Credence snagged the drapes in her hands and pulled them open. Fran's playful "you've been caught" expression dropped when she saw Ominis.

"Ominis Gaunt is the guy you slept with last night?" She asked, mouth agape. Credence rolled her eyes. “Is that a problem?” Fran cleared her throat and handed Credence his wand. "No, of course not, I-I mean— Way to go, Credence. Ominis is pretty handsome." Then her face turned red. "Not like I'm interested in your— Your boyfriend? I guess? Just that he's handsome and I'm gonna shut up now." "Thanks," Ominis said. "I think."

Fran scuttled back to the mirror.

After ensuring they gathered up all their things, Credence and Ominis said goodbye to Fran and headed out to the common room. The moment they exited her dorm, a couple of girls were passing by. They giggled as they passed. Ominis fiddled with his wand, cheeks pink. She put her arm around his waist and followed the girls to the common room.

The longer they walked, the more Credence's groin ached. Trekking the stairs rubbed everything together in such a grating way; she tested different gaits to alleviate the pain. Her uneven steps attracted Ominis’ attention.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his hand caressing the small of her back. “Just a little sore,” she said. “It's no big deal.” “You can lean on me if you need to.” She cuddled closer to him. “Or just because.”

Being the weekend, the common room was fairly empty, so they used the kitchenette to scrounge up some food. The house elves kept their cabinets stocked with basics and they had a small stovetop to boil water. Ominis wanted tea with his breakfast.

“Brits and tea,” Credence said, “what's up with that.” “Americans and coffee,” Ominis said back, “what's up with that.” Credence almost put the coffee back.

They had to split off after breakfast. Ominis headed back to his dorm to get ready for the tournament. In just a couple of hours, Ominis and Sebastian would settle their argument. Ominis made it quite clear a duel was the only way Sebastian would truly hear him. Credence's heart raced thinking about it all—so lost in her thoughts, she nearly combed her hair with her toothbrush.

As she headed for the Floo Flame, her groin screamed at her for a break. Ominis had been gentle and safe with her, to the point where their sex hadn't been painful in the moment, but she still limped around the common room. A few of her fellow Ravenclaws would snicker or blush at her.

She limped a little faster to the Floo Flame and used it to meet Ominis in the clocktower. There was an immediate bustle as most of the losing participants stuck around to watch and socialize. Charlotte chatted with Sebastian near the refreshment table. Sebastian had Charlotte giggling as she touched his shoulder. Credence could've rolled her eyes if Charlotte’s face wasn’t aglow—at least she was enjoying herself.

Others passed in front of her and Garreth was already taking bets by the lineup on the roster. Credence took only a single step forward before Ominis appeared beside her in a small flash of green flame.

“Looks like everyone's still excited,” she said. “The semi-finals will be starting soon,” he said, putting his arm around her. “Don't worry,” she assured as they walked to their usual spot. “You're going to do great.”

Some people spotted them and talked behind their hands. Others blushed or avoided eye contact. Two girls they passed giggled rather loudly. But Ominis was too busy keeping her steady to mention it.

"Think you'll be able to stand for the matches?" he asked. "I'm sure I could get you a chair." "I'll be okay. It's not like my leg is broken or anything."

He held her hand and waist as she sat beside him on their bench. She went slow and soundlessly winced when her bottom connected with the hard stone. But it was cool and soothing after the initial shock.

“Do you need anything from the refreshment table?” he asked. “No, I'm okay.” “Just let me know, then.” “Oh, trust me, I will be milking this for all it's worth. Not everyday you have someone to wait on you.” He leaned against her. “You act like I wouldn't happily do so anytime.” “Of course. It's not like you're just excited to walk past yet another group of giggling girls. Right, Ominis?” He chuckled and his cheeks tinged pink. “An added benefit, not my primary goal.”

She rolled her eyes but her grin only grew.

“It's been so nice, though,” he said. “What has?” “People have been treating me differently. In a good way. Ever since primary school, people haven't wanted to talk to me or even pass by me in the corridors. Remember how terrified Samantha Dale was of me when we were paired up for that project in Potions? But after I brought you up in conversation with her—well, I got to see firsthand how obsessed with plants she is. A lot of other people have been doing the same this year. Neither Sebastian nor Anne could convince people to change their minds about me, but you have.” “Me? What did I do?” “I guess people see me with you and realize that I'm not some violent supremacist like so many purebloods are. They don't treat me like a Gaunt anymore. They treat me like I'm normal.” “Ohh, so that's why you like me? You get kudos cuz I'm muggle-born,” she teased.

But rather than laugh, Ominis’ face fell and his blush disappeared. His eyes widened in horror. He threw his arms around her and embraced her tight.

“No, of course not,” he said softly. “That's not it at all, Cree. I could never use you like that—” “I was just kidding,” she hurried before he felt worse. His tense body relaxed a little, though he was still quite stiff and holding onto her with a strong grip. “Oh. O-of course.” He forced an extremely uneasy laugh. “I suppose I should've— I mean, I wasn't trying to take it so seriously.” She caressed his back. “No, I went too far. I know that kind of thing is heavy for you. I shouldn't have tried to joke about it. I'm sorry.”

He kissed her forehead a couple of times, as if in way of his own apology and acceptance of hers.

“I'm glad people are finally seeing what I do,” she said. “You're wonderful, you know that?”

Before Ominis could respond, Sebastian plopped down on the bench beside her.

“You two are so sappy,” he said, “always holding each other and kissing. It’s like watching a play. Melodrama to the extreme.” He didn't try to get Ominis to speak with him. Instead, he tossed a wink at Credence. “And I heard some things about last night. Are you actually walking with a limp?” “It's highly exaggerated.” “Let's see, then.” “No, you pervert.” He sighed and shrugged. “You'll have to walk sometime, Ravenclaw. And when you do, I'll be sure to see for myself.” “Just because I've got a small limp doesn't mean I won't also kick your ass,” she said, kicking at the air. When she winced, Sebastian laughed. “Don't hurt yourself trying to prove a point, Amata. Speaking of, I think the semi-finals are about to start up. Did you need a chair?” She tossed her hands into the air. “I'm not an invalid!” He laughed harder. “Okay, okay! Sheesh, sorry I asked.”

“The semi-finals are underway!” announced Lucan.

Sebastian stood up. When he gave a great stretch, a few of his joints cracked and he breathed a sigh of contentment.

“That's my cue,” he said. “I'll be up first. Kick some arse in your duel, Ominis. Would be a shame to fight some tosser in the final.”

Sebastian had no issue mopping up his final opponent. Ominis chose to sit it out but Credence wanted to watch. She had no shortage of respect for Sebastian’s prowess. Despite that Eric Northcott had gotten as far as he did, and that at least several dedicated fans had gambled on him winning, Sebastian’s rushdown and efficient wand movements were too much for him to handle.

Sebastian’s movements were graceful, flowing into one another with practiced precision. But he could improvise as well. If his rhythm was ever interrupted, he recovered without breaking stride.

When Ominis faced his opponent, Constance Dagworth, in the semi-finals, the stony concentration on his face made her flinch. She put up a decent fight but Ominis had too strong of a defense for her to break. His Protego was unmatched, perfect nearly every time, powering up his Stupefy. He could trace someone's footsteps with striking accuracy and lead her with a boosted Stunner. It stopped her mid-step, causing her to stagger and trip. Disoriented, she couldn't stand up in time to defend against his wind charm.

That left Sebastian and Ominis to face one another. During the intermission, Ominis retrieved a plate of food and drink. Though Credence shoveled hers down like a starving woman, Ominis picked at his food. Most of his half was left behind. She offered him a bite from her sandwich but he refused.

Then when the countdown was announced for the final fight, Ominis was given leeway through the crowd as people bunched against Garreth Weasley to place their final bets.

“Bets over here!” Garreth called. “There's still time!” “Two galleons on Gaunt!” “What?” another questioned. “You really think the quiet girl's boyfriend can beat our dueling champion?” "Hey!" Credence snapped. "Why am I still the quiet girl?" "Because you only ever talk to about three people," said Ominis. "And two of y'all are too much work." "I think you just answered your own question, darling."

Lucan called for order, standing upon his shoddy little box tower. With his wand to his neck, he boomed over the crowd.

“Gaunt versus Sallow is about to begin! Combatants, take your places!”

Sebastian already climbed onto one side of the ring, eager, gripping his wand tight. Ominis headed for the other side. Just before he took his place on the battlefield, he embraced her.

“You can do this,” she said. “Kick his ass.” “I'll do my best.”

When he kissed her, she relaxed against him at first. But his lips parted hers and his tongue dipped into her mouth. Her fingers instinctively grasped his shirt. His fervent display was brief, though still earned them at least one wolf-whistle. He pulled away, caressed her cheek, then made his way up to the battlefield where Sebastian awaited.

Ominis and Sebastian faced each other. Sebastian's fanatics screamed from his side of the field. It was no surprise that most of the bets went Sebastian's way—though some decided to bet on Ominis—given how loud his side of the field was. Sebastian was the favorite no doubt, but Credence tried to match the energy and even it out.

“Combatants ready?” Lucan asked. Sebastian assumed his fencing-like stance. “Ready.” Girls in the crowd went nuts. Ominis kept his normal, loose stance. “Ready.” Another girl in the crowd squealed joyously for him alongside Credence. “Three, two, one— Duel!”

As expected, Sebastian started with a bang, using a spell to control his opponent’s movements.

“Levioso!”

But Ominis was ready the moment the duel started. His Protego absorbed Sebastian’s spell but he didn’t return with a stunning charm. Instead, he kept his shield up, goading Sebastian into a shield breaking counterspell. Just as the incantation was leaving Sebastian’s lips, Ominis flourished his wand.

“Obscurum!”

No spell seemed to come from his wand, but Sebastian stopped his attack. He grasped at his face. Nothing was there. Sebastian staggered back, rubbing his eyes, blinking furiously. The crowd paused, staring in silence.

Ominis said, “I thought we’d duel on an even playing field.”

Sebastian whipped his head back and forth as if trying to shake off intense vertigo. Credence squeezed her clammy hands together, going over the next steps of the plan in her head.

Ominis shouted, “Descendo!”

Sebastian didn’t recover from the shock in time to put up his shield. He slammed into the ground with a loud grunt and his wand slipped out of his grasp. His hands groped the ground for it. Though it had only rolled a few inches, Sebastian’s frantic hits were nowhere near it. He held his hand out randomly.

“Accio wand!”

His wand hit his hand from the side and his fingers flailed to grab the handle. Once it was in his palm, he gripped it tight.

Ominis called, “Galinn Galcius!”

His wand produced a strong gust of wind. Unlike yesterday, this wind set an intense wintery chill upon the battlefield. Credence hugged herself in the midst of the frozen air. Goosebumps raced down her arms and her breath formed a cloud that was whisked away by the ongoing charm.

Sebastian brought forth a desperate Protego. The shield struggled against the gale. Ice formed at its sides only to be battered by the wind and slip past. His feet slid across the ground despite his dug in heels. He called out Protego Maxima and his shield glowed a brighter blue.

The more powerful ward absorbed Ominis’ charm but Sebastian didn’t aim back at Ominis. Instead, his shield burst and fired the counterspell off in all directions in a frantic attempt to hit him. One ricochet flew at Ominis but Protego blocked it. Sebastian panted and sweat rolled down his face. His unfocused eyes stared at the ground.

“I’d like to think I make it look easy,” said Ominis. Sebastian whipped his wand in the direction of Ominis’ voice. “Confringo!”

Ominis sidestepped the blasting curse. Its fireball exploded on the wall of the clocktower. The crowd screamed, breaking their silence since the beginning of the match. The blastback whipped Ominis’ robes as he took aim.

“Confringo!” Ominis cast.

Sebastian was looking some ten feet to the side of Ominis. He put up his Protego just in time to absorb the fiery curse. He charged up his Stupefy and cast it too far off to the side. Ominis didn't need to move or put up his shield. Stupefy hit the wall beside the singe marks of Sebastian's previous Confringo.

“Damn,” Sebastian spat.

He paused, waiting, listening. No one dared to breathe. Sebastian turned his head from side to side, trying to pick up on any movement. Ominis aimed his wand. The moment he flourished, Sebastian whipped toward him. Ominis called,

“Diffindo!” “Protego!”

The ricochet bounded wildly.

Sebastian called out another, “Confringo!”

Ominis waited. The fiery blast raced toward him. As usual, it looked like he wasn't going to put up his ward in time—

“Protego Maxima!”

The bright blue shield absorbed Sebastian’s curse. The stronger ward amplified his counterspell. Stupefy flew faster and hit Sebastian with such force that it threw him to the ground.

He was only on his back for a second before shooting to his feet. His brow was furrowed hard against his eyes and his jaw clenched down on his teeth. But Sebastian now looked directly at Ominis. Despite his heaving breaths, he cast a clear,

“Accio!”

He yanked Ominis across the field, drawing him close. When Ominis broke through with the counterspell, he stood mere feet from Sebastian. He glared in Sebastian's direction as Sebastian stared him down. Sebastian had his wand directly at Ominis’ chest, his shoulders tense upon his neck. Ominis kept that same loose stance, his wand at his hip. Even the crowd held its breath.

Credence watched them, hands clenched together until her knuckles went white. There was still a slight chill in the air. She couldn't decipher if it was from after-effects Galinn Glacius or their standoff. But the only thing left was the inevitable end.

“You got pretty far in this tournament,” said Sebastian. “I needed to. Worked my arse off. Gave you a run for your money.” “You sure did. Don't go soft on me now.” “I wouldn't dream of it. After all the strategizing Cree and I did to get this far? I couldn't let her down like that.” “Her? What about me?” Sebastian teased with a smirk. Ominis smirked back. “Fuck you.”

“Depulso!”

Their casts exploded in unison, throwing both of them backwards. The force burst out into the crowd, flinging hair and robes, and someone's glasses hit Credence's automatic Protego.

Both Ominis and Sebastian had landed off their feet. Ominis hit his back, dangerously close to the edge of the battlefield. Sebastian hit his side, head nearly hanging over the end of the ring. Disoriented, they staggered to their knees. Sebastian didn't wait to stand.

“Arresto Momentum!”

Ominis didn't have his wand up in time. His body slowed as he lifted his arm. His sluggish movements made it all too easy for Sebastian to hit him with another spell.

“Expelliarmus!”

Ominis’ wand went flying and the countdown began.

Ten seconds to get his wand. His fingers were still reeling from the hit. Nine seconds. His knee finally hit the ground to push him up. Eight seconds and Arresto Momentum wore off.

“Flipendo!” Sebastian called.

Ominis had to sidestep the spell. It caught his sleeve but brushed past him. He reached out for his wand. Five seconds.

“Accio wand!”

It flew toward him. But Sebastian led it with a basic cast and flung it away. Three seconds. It clattered to the floor again and Ominis called his second Accio.

“I don't think so,” said Sebastian. “Galinn Maxima!”

With a huge gale, Ominis slid farther back, closing the gap at the edge of the ring. His heel went over first, throwing him off-balance. His fingers missed his wand by only an inch or so. He stumbled and tried to catch himself, but he fell backwards. He and his wand landed on the floor outside of the battlefield.

The stunned silence from the crowd continued for a few moments more. All Credence heard was her own footsteps hurrying over to Ominis. She snagged his wand on the way. Just as she knelt down to help him up, the crowd roared in excitement.

“The battle is over!” Lucan boomed. “Victory goes to Sallow!”

Ominis got to his feet, rubbing his arm where he’d fallen on it. Credence handed him his wand.

“You okay?” she asked, close to him so he could hear her over the roar of the crowd. “Yes,” he said, “just a little beat up.”

Despite his loss, Ominis smiled. His plan had come together. He hadn’t much intention of winning anyway.

After he dusted himself off, they headed out into the courtyard, then kept going, farther away from the accolades and excitement of the clocktower. The rickety south bridge creaked underfoot. Ominis had his arm around her, steadying her from her limp much as she steadied him from not using his wand.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. “A bit better now,” he said as they headed down the brushy path toward the beach. “I doubt it’ll be the last scuffle we get into, though. He’s always finding ways to provoke people.” After a pause, he said, “Speak of the devil.”

Soon after, she heard running steps catching up to them.

“Hey!” called Sebastian. “Thought I saw you guys go this way!”

They continued walking. Sebastian slowed to their pace when he was beside Credence. He panted a little but grinned at them.

“That was a hell of a battle, Ominis,” he said. “I seriously thought I was— Well, you had me on the ropes, for sure.” “Just admit it,” Credence said as their feet hit the sandy shores, “you thought you were gonna lose.” He playfully puffed up and gave her a stern look. “You watch your mouth, Ravenclaw.”

They sat on the beach as the waves rolled ashore.

"We’ll get you back for this, Sallow," she said, plopping down on the sand. "Mark my words—whatever that phrase means." "Ooh, threatening." "Just don't freak out if you see me standing over your bed at three AM tonight." "Now why would that freak me out? I'd think I'd be rather excited about it." "Hey!” She elbowed him. “Stop perving today. I don't approve." "Being more realistic you probably just showed up at the wrong bed and need me to point you to Ominis." "You really have a one-track mind," Ominis finally spoke up. "It's a weakness," Sebastian agreed. "And it's that same thing that got us all hurt in— Well, where we found ourselves. I'm really sorry, Ominis. Truly. I would've gladly taken your place. I never wanted it to turn out the way it did." "It's not just that," Ominis snapped. "You left us there to pick up the pieces. You didn't even check in on us after your harebrained schemes went awry. That's the part that hurts. That’s why I’m still angry with you."

Sebastian’s frown deepened. They sat in the quiet of the Black Lake.

"Look," said Ominis. "We have to promise each other: that was our last time. No more dark magic or Slytherin or Unforgivables ever again." Sebastian nodded, staring ahead at the sloshing water. "I understand, Ominis. You’re right. No more." As Credence watched for Ominis' response, she swore she saw a sneer for a fraction of a second. But Ominis said, "Good. Then we're settled." "Phew," said Sebastian dramatically, leaning back and wiping his brow. "Good, I wouldn't have wanted that weighing on my mind when I head to Feldcroft this weekend." "Read the room, you big galoot," said Ominis, cracking a small smile.

Sebastian let out a chuckle to melt some of the tension. Judging by Ominis' expression, the contemplation hiding behind his waning grin, Credence had a feeling there was much unsaid on his mind. He took her hand, its warmth enveloping her as he gave her a confidence-boosting squeeze.

"Sebastian," he said, his soft voice in harmony with the tides. "Hm?" "I've been thinking. I want to go visit Anne with you." Sebastian sat up straight and his eyes sparkled with ill-contained glee. "Really? That's wonderful news! Oh, Anne is going to piss herself in excitement when she sees you!” “God, I hope not.” “Would you like to come, too, Cree?” asked Sebastian, beaming at her with those big puppy dog eyes. “I think Anne would just love you." She fidgeted. "Um, yeah. I'll go if you think it’s a good idea." Sebastian's gaze shimmered as though he was on the verge of tears. "Absolutely it is! I've told Anne a little about you and she really wants to meet you. She'll be so surprised!"

Sebastian tossed his arm around Credence's shoulders, jostling her as he included Ominis in his bear hug.

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