#( show me what I can't see when the spark in my eyes is gone

[lovcdrivc]

CORRINE JACKSON the wheel of fortune : corrine jackson ; everything avenging angel : it rains in hell and angels could be bad ; music no i will never be the faithless one ; headcanons my hand is on her wing ; aesthetics fire in my lungs can't bite the devil on my tongue ; visage just know that if you hide it doesn't go away ; fashion show me what i can't see when the spark in my eyes is gone ; interests my life was a storm since I was born ; memes i've been writing out a list of demands ; wanted i'll be your joan of arc ; family you took my heart and you took my pride away ; starters she attacks me like a leo ; interactions

VERSES under construction

CONNECTIONS under construction

[minarinnn]

“notice me”

luke castellan x aphrodite!reader (pt2 here)

content/trigger warnings: fem! reader, doesn’t follow the plot of tlt!, mentions of smut, sexual tension, manipulation?, groping, reader making luke jealous

a/n: the show has once again sparked up my love for the percy jackson book saga and charlie bushnell has me weakkk ughhh.. i normally don’t write for pjo characters but oh well, lmk if y’all want a continuation of this or just more luke castellan in general ;)

you had always been so used to being the center of attention. as a daughter of aphrodite, you had always been the most popular girl in school, and there was no shortage of boys falling for your charms

arriving at camp half-blood didn change that, nothing was different. except that, for the first time in your life, you found yourself chasing after the attention of a certain boy. luke castellan, the son of hermes and the head counselor of his cabin, he just wouldn’t fawn over you like the others would. despite your best efforts, luke had always remained indifferent to your constant flirting, leaving you feeling frustrated and determined to change his mind

you found yourself spending every waking moment trying to get his attention, trying to find some way to charm him and make him see you the way the other boys did. but no matter how hard you tried, luke remained distant and unimpressed

this week you were extremely busy, you were helping out in the infirmary, one of the apollo kids who usually worked in the infirmary had been sent on a quest and you were asked to fill in until they came back. juggling that with all your other responsibilities as counselor had you beyond occupied

during that week, annabeth barged in with two other guys; percy and luke. apparently their sparring session had gone a little out of hand and they were both injured

luke was already aware of how you’ve been trying to get his attention these past few years. he actually seems to quite like having you, the most fawned over girl at camp, fawning over him instead. he liked the attention you gave him, though he knew that if he ever gave in to your charms you would stop, so he didn’t

he was fully prepared and expected you to be the one to tend to him, so when he sees you head to percy and tend to him while an apollo girl tended to him he was confused

what happened? why would you choose percy over him? we’re you tired of him? did you give up on trying to win him over? luke’s confusion quickly turned to frustration, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as he watched you tend to percy’s wounds

"how are you feeling, percy?" you asked, giving him a warm smile, one that always had the boys weak in the knees. "n-not great, but i’ll manage" he laughed awkwardly, suddenly nervous. you put your hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze "oh, i’m sure you’ll live”

out of the corner of your eye, you saw luke. he was watching you, watching the way you cared for percy. this was the first time you had ever caught him staring at you with such intensity

so you’re plan was working. you had tried everything to get his attention and you had only one trick left in your arsenal; jealosy. no boy is immune to jealousy, and that was exactly how you were gonna get him

in the end, all you had to do was throw some water at percy and he was good to go. luke though, he had to spend the night in the infirmary

the other apollo kid had left a few minutes ago, something about ‘having other things to do’. so it was just luke and you in the infirmary. you walk over to luke's bed and start tending to his wounds

“oh so now you wanna take care of me? how nice of you” he speaks, sarcasm dripping from his words. “you can tough it out, can't you?" you tease, dabbing away at his cuts with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball. luke is watching you intently and you can feel the tension in the room increasing, his eyes fixated on your hands as you work

luke’s eyes narrow, and you can see the rage boiling beneath the surface. he’s frustrated, jealous, and he doesn't know what to do with all these emotions. you’ve never seen him like this before, and it's a thrill to know that you have the power to make him feel this way

you try to ignore the tense atmosphere in the room, focusing instead on luke's wounds. you finish cleaning and bandaging the cut on his wrist, holding it up to your face to land a soft kiss on the bandages. “all done” you whisper. he tenses at the feeling of your soft lips, and you can see the anger in his eyes. however, you can also see a hint of something else— desire

you look up at him with a smile, knowing that you've got him right where you want him. his eyes are locked on your every movement. you know that you have him wrapped around your finger, and it's a delicious feeling of power

luke’s expression is one of confusion, a mix of rage and desire. he wants you, and he wants to hate you at the same time. it’s a weird combo, but it's working for you.

you lean closer to him, your lips inches away from each other. you can feel his breath on your skin, the heat of his body as he's lying there

"you’re not stopping me" you state, breaking the silence. it’s a quiet, soft whisper, filled with a tiny bit of amusement

"maybe.. maybe i don’t want you to stop" he says, his eyes locked on yours, voice low and husky. you can see the desire building in him, how his gaze trails down to your lips

luke’s breathing quickened, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. he knew that this was a game for you, a game where you would always be determined to win him over, but now, in this very moment, he felt like he was losing

he lets out a hiss of frustration, of desire, of... something. he’s sure knows that you're proud of it, but he’s not quite sure what to do about it

you leaned in for the kiss, your lips pressing gently against his, your hand running through his hair. you could feel his body tensing, his hands gripping your waist as he attempted to pull you on top of him

you pull away from the kiss slowly, your lips still pressed to his. luke is still trying to catch his breath, his eyes fixed on yours, searching for any hint of what your next move will be

"not bad" you whisper. "you’re playing a dangerous game here” he chuckles lowly, making your lower regions throb. you smirk softly and brush his hair out of his face “i’ll take my chances”

despite being injured, he pulls you on top of him, making you realize just how hard he’s been this whole time. his eyes are dark, and you can see the lust burning within them

you lean in for another kiss, this one soft and gentle. luke groans when he feels you grind against him, his hands moving down to grab hold of your ass

“i need you s’bad” he mutters out. you smirk as you slide off him, making him furrow his brows in confusion. you land a soft kiss on his cheek. “let’s do this when you’re not injured” you whisper in his ear. now he was alone and hard in the infirmary, how nice

© MINARINNN 2024 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

healing touch

words: 700

warnings: established relationship, catcalling

“you've changed.” rafe observes, cocking his head to the side as you don't respond to his arrival home, or even budge at his words. your eyes are stared straight forward, blank and almost hollow, so unlike the vibrancy rafe is used to seeing when he looks at you.

“baby.” rafes voice is softer now as he takes a step forward, not trying to startle you from your place perched on the countertop, sat with your legs pulled up to your chest, chin against your knees.

“darling.” rafe steps closer again, and your eyelashes finally flutter as you notice him, looking up without even a crack of a smile.

“what's wrong?” he asks, suppressing the urge to get angry, to lash out at whoever-whatever, he doesn't care, made you feel this way. rafe knows he needs to stay calm for you, placing his hands on your hips and looking you in your chocolate brown eyes.

“i decided to walk today to vikeys.” you tell rafe, swallowing harshly.

“uh huh.” rafe knows you usually go to a friend's house when he's gone for the day, giving yourself something to do and also a chance to catch up when you can't be with your boyfriend.

“and i walked past that construction site. you know the new apartments being put up.” you wait for rafe to nod before continuing. “the… the workers there were on their lunch break and they…”

“what did they do?” rafe asks, harsh tone slipping into his voice, but you know it's not meant for you.

“they were just whistling at me at first. i tried to walk by faster, i crossed the street, but they just got louder. started talking about- about what they'd do to me.”

you don't have to say anything more for rafe to understand. he carefully pulls your legs down and pulls you to the edge of the marble countertop so he can press you against his chest, knowing that what you need at the moment is his touch, his hold.

“i got to vickys as soon as i could. i just felt disgusting, gross. she let me shower there and borrow a pair of clothes before driving me back home.”

“ill make sure to thank vicky for helping out my girl.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head. “you could have called me though, baby.”

“i-i know.” you look up at rafe, tears welling up. “i just wasn't thinking. i felt like i was in another body almost.”

“and how are you feeling now?” rafe asks, his hands gently petting up and down your back.

“better now that you're here.” you sigh out. 

“did you eat?” rafe glances at the clock, knowing he's home a bit later than usual. 

when you shake your head no, rafe pauses for a moment to think. “how about we order pizza and relax and watch that new season of the tv show you've been hounding me to see?” rafe sees a little spark back in your eyes just from the mention of relaxing with him.

“and im taking the rest of the week of work.” rafe grabs his phone out of his pocket to order pizza before you can argue, but there is one last piece of work rafe has to do before he can be satisfied.

--

you hum along to the song as rafes hand grips your thigh, the other on the steering wheel as he brings you back home from the country club, having went “golfing” with him, which really just means driving the cart around while he plays.

“rafe-” you turn to look at him with confusion when he turns down the wrong street.

“just want you to see something.” he says, pulling up to the construction site you got cat called in front of, the words echoing through your mind until rafe reminds you of where you are and who you're with with a soft squeeze of your leg, snapping you out of it.

you look at the sign in front of the fence. cameron developments.

“you… you bought whole apartment complex?”

“and fired the entire previous crew. they won't find work in this town again, trust me.”

“oh, rafe.” you launch yourself over the center console, kissing him deeply as your arms wrap around his shoulders.

“as much as i like kissing you, baby-” rafe says, mumbling against your lips. “how about we wait until we get home to continue this?”

you giggle and sit back on your seat as he speeds off.

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @ladyinbl00d @bejeweledreverie @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry

[sturniolohouse]

Anniversary in the Cape - M.S

A/N: hey so, i feel CRAZY after writing this. this is truly an example of the duality of my writing... also, i'm sorry if there's any typos, i've proofread a ton and even stuck this bitch in grammarly but i could have missed something. she's looonnnng, so get some wine (if legal) and some popcorn and enjoy!!!!!! ALSO, ALSO, minors!!! DNI!!!! pls and thank you. :)

summary: matt and reader take their relationship to the next level, going on an overdue vacation to the cape for their anniversary.

warnings: cursing, smut (unprotected do not recommend), spanking, choking, matt being hot, uhhh idk

word count: 5.8k

song: stargazing - the neighborhood

'started with a spark, now we're on fire'

"And you're sure your parents were okay with us using the car and the house?" I ask looking at him focus on the road in front of him.

"Yes, baby. For the one-hundredth time, they don't mind. Quit worrying, this is our vacation," He looks at me quickly, taking a hand off the wheel to meet my thigh and squeeze it lightly.

"I know, I'm just nervous," I admit softly and he turns to me with wide playful eyes.

"Nervous! Why the hell are you nervous?" He laughs in bewilderment, and I roll my eyes, shrugging slightly.

"I mean, obviously we've been alone before, but we've never been away just the two of us," I explain.

"Yeah, and I'm fucking ecstatic about it. Like you said, no interruptions, quiet house, on the cape...possibilities are endless." He says looking at me with a small suggestive smile growing on his face.

Of course, Matt and I get alone time. Do we get as much as we would like? No.

It's difficult finding time for ourselves when Matt lives with his brothers and my roommates are hermits.

Which I never saw as an issue, because I honestly don't mind spending time with Chris and Nick whenever I'm by their place–which is often. I was actually friends with all of them way before Matt and I began dating. 

But when Matt brought up the last time we had gone on a real date, it had been months.

"No, I know. I'm excited too, it's just a new step in our relationship and it feels very...adult? I don't know, I sound silly," I shake my head and he squeezes my thigh again before grabbing my hand.

"Hey, I know what you mean, and you don't sound silly." He softens a bit to reassure me before kissing the back of my hand. My heart warms at his gesture and I squeeze his hand. 

"I'm excited to show you one of my favorite places, I still can't believe you've never been. I literally grew up here." He changes the subject as he switches lanes and I see the sign indicating Cape Cod is less than a mile away.

We flew into Boston by ourselves yesterday afternoon and spent the night at his parent's house. It was Matt's idea, saying he didn't mind taking the drive as it wasn't too far from his house in Somerville. 

"Are you finally going to tell me what we're doing?" I rub circles into the back of his hand with my thumb.

His mouth quirks to one side pensively but he laughs as soon as he hears me sigh impatiently. 

"Okay, okay, you really wanna know?" He drawls out, turning to glance at me for a moment then turning back to the road. 

"You know I wanna know," I lean over the divider and stare into the side of his face. He smirks a bit, side-eyeing me a few times before humming. 

"Hmm, I think I'll leave you squirming a little longer," He says after a moment.

He exits the highway and I huff, slumping back into my seat.

This place looks like something straight out of a storybook.  

The green, hilly scenery takes my breath away. Matt shows me the main street, driving past the historic houses and buildings as families and couples walk down the street. When we round the bend, the dense trees become few and far between and the lush green landscape dissolves into tall grass, sand, and rock as the ocean comes into view.

We drive along the coast the rest of the way and I just stare in awe at the cozy beach town as Matt tells stories of growing up here in the summer. 

"That house at the end is the family house," He points to the one on the left.

Pulling into the driveway, Matt puts the car in park before cutting the engine. I go to open my door but he stops me, putting a finger up and getting out of the car himself.

I give him a questioning look before I see him jog to the other side of the car to open my door for me.

"And they say chivalry is dead," I shake my head jokingly and he shrugs with a smirk.

I get out of the car and lean up to give him a quick kiss, we're smiley and giddy when we pull apart. He gives me another kiss before handing me a key.

"Go head inside, I'll grab our bags," He says softly against my lips and I nod quickly.

As I walk past him to make my way to the front door, I feel a light slap to my ass. I go to give him a playful disapproving look, but he's already opening the trunk to grab our stuff and acting like nothing happened.

The house is small and charming.

It belongs to their grandparents and has been the family vacation home for decades. The colorful wind chimes on the front porch sing with the soft breeze. I breathe in the salty air and walk towards the steps leading to the front door.

I twist the key to open the door and I'm engulfed with a warm, inviting scent. There are tons of family pictures on the walls and my heart swells at the baby pictures of the triplets.

I can easily spot Matt in a picture of the three of them on the beach, probably around four or five years old.

Seeing photos of them as children always blows my mind because of how identical they looked.

Matt comes in with our bags, noticing me looking at the photos on the wall.

"You were so fucking cute as a kid," I say going to grab my duffel from him but he takes my hand instead, leading me down the hall to the bedroom.

"Am I not cute now?" He pretends to be offended.

"Eh," I joke back and he opens the door at the end of the hall.

"This is our bedroom, the bathroom is next door on the left," He nods behind us toward the hall.

The bedroom is a pale seafoam green color, the bed adorned with a vintage patchwork quilt lined with a ruffle trim. The room has more family photos hung on the walls and beach-themed decor.

"We can unpack now and then head to the store to grab something for dinner and the next few days. There's definitely no food here. Sound good?" He places our bags on the bed and turns to me, placing his hands on his hips.

He wears a backward camo Boston Red Sox hat, a black tee with a silver chain around his neck, jean shorts, and white New Balance sneakers.

I must have been ogling him for too long because he snaps his fingers in front of my face with a smug expression.

"D'ya hear me, kid, or are you too busy eye-fucking me?" He smiles, licking his lips, and I feel a deep blush bloom from my chest up to my neck.

"Not my fault my boyfriend is so hot," I shrug, trying to recover from his playful callout, and he rolls his eyes, blushing himself.

He shakes his head, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his chest. I wrap my arms around his middle, placing my head over his heart as we settle into a moment of comfortable silence.

An intrusive thought takes over, and I squeeze him tighter against me. I hear him groan at the sudden pressure of my grip, and he grabs hold of my arms.

"Okay, okay. Enough with the cuteness-aggression. You're going to break my ribs, kid," He wheezes.

I let up only after he tickles my sides. I squeal as he chases me to the other side of the bed and I finally surrender and ask for mercy. He slaps my ass and tells me I'll pay for it later.

We unpack our stuff and head out to the store to get ingredients for tacos. The one and only thing I've tried to improve in Matt is his cooking skills.

When we first got together, it was concerning how little he knew about cooking along with the number of times a week he'd eat out. I changed that real fast, teaching him basic meals he could make himself that were quick and pretty foolproof. Tacos were one of them.

"Go shower, I'll start dinner." He tells me, putting all of the groceries on the counter.

"You sure you can handle it?" I tease, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, I've gotten better. Didn't you like the salmon I made you the other week?" He points his finger at me and I roll my eyes.

"Yes, my love, I was very proud of you." I lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth, "I'll be quick," I say before going to take my long-awaited shower.

As the hot water cascades over my shoulders, I can't help but let my thoughts drift. This trip is a huge step for us, and despite my nerves, I know it was a much-needed and deserved trip.

We don't really have an anniversary only because we both don't remember the specific date and we never made our being official a big deal. It's never been our style.

But we decided this would be a getaway for our 'anniversary' as next month will be our second summer together.

I finish up and wrap myself in a towel, savoring the lingering warmth before I quickly get dressed. I smell the scent of sizzling meat and spices coming from the kitchen.

When I reach the kitchen, I can't help but smile at the sight of Matt carefully chopping lettuce. His brows furrowed and his tongue poked out in serious concentration.

"Smells amazing in here," I comment, leaning against the doorway.

Matt looks up startled a bit, dropping the knife and putting a hand over his heart. A proud grin quickly spreads across his face when he realizes it's just me.

"You fuckin' scared me. I'm almost done, just need to heat up the tortillas." He gestures for me to come over, and I do, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind.

"You're getting good at this," I compliment, kissing his shoulder as he flips the tortillas.

"Only because I have a great teacher," he replies, turning his head to kiss my cheek.

I help set the table while Matt finishes up. We sit down to eat, the atmosphere cozy and intimate. The tacos are actually delicious, and I make sure to shower Matt with compliments for his efforts. We pop open the sparkling apple cider Mary-Lou and Jimmy gave as a parting gift to us. Digging through the cupboards, we end up finding old plastic flutes to make a quick toast with.

"Here's to us, thank you for making each day brighter. To many more days with you, I love you very much," I say simply, raising my glass. He gets shy and smiley but clinks our glasses.

I can't help but smile at him as he blushes and tries to hide it. I lean in for a kiss and he immediately gives me one.

"I love you more," He whispers against me, pulling me onto his lap and giving me a deeper kiss. "I would say something too, but I don't want to sound stupid,"

"Hush, I already know you're madly in love with me. You made me bomb ass tacos," I joke, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him into my chest. He giggles and kisses my collarbone.

After dinner, we go to the backyard to watch what's left of the sunset. We put a lawn chair by the water and sit together watching the orange horizon disappear behind the shoreline. The hues of blues and purples melt together in the sky until it grows darker and the moonlight casts a silvery glow on the water.

The sound of the waves is soothing, our breathing in sync as I sit in his lap, his hand drumming lightly on my hip.

"This will continue to be my favorite place, I'm glad I get to share it with you." Matt says, his voice soft and contemplative.

"Thank you for sharing it with me," I reply, squeezing his hand. "I'm really happy we came."

"Me too." He turns to face me, his blue eyes reflecting the moonlight. He goes deep in thought for a moment and he almost goes to say something but stops himself.

I give him a questioning look and nudge him lightly.

"What was that?" I ask gently and he shakes his head.

"Nothing," He tries to brush it off but I grab his chin and turn his face toward me.

"Didn't seem like it," I play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"I don't wanna freak you out," he says lowly and I give him a pressing look before he sighs deeply, finally giving in.

"I was just imagining our future. I can just see us, you know, bringing our kids here in the summers. They'd grow up with memories of this place like I do," he admits, staring directly at the water as he confesses his inner thoughts.

My heart tightens with emotion at his statement.

"You think about stuff like that?" My voice cracks, tears stinging my eyes and he immediately snaps his head to look at me.

"Hey, why are you crying?" He looks worried, cupping my cheek and using his thumb to catch a tear falling.

"Of course, I think of 'stuff like that' though. Does that scare you?" His voice laced with uncertainty and I shake my head immediately at his foolish question.

"No, no," I say softly, running my hand through his hair tenderly, then tracing his face. Starting from his left eyebrow, down his cheekbone, and over the scruff on his jaw.

His eyes flutter at my soft touch and he grabs my hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.

"It's actually really sweet, Matt. I didn't think you'd want things like that with me, a family..." I admit and his eyes widen at my foolishness.

"Sweetheart, I hope you know you're it for me. Pretty sure if you ever decide one day you're sick of me, I'll spend the rest of my fucking life alone." He tells me openly and I blubber at his sweet words that pierce my heart more.

"Stop crying," He laughs lightly, getting slightly nervous by my reaction but I try to compose myself.

"You wanna have babies with me," I squeak, crying more and he tosses his head back in laughter as I continue to be a mess.

"Yes, I want 'babies' with you. If you want babies," He smiles, continuing to wipe my tears. "Okay, I love you, but you have snot all over your face," he says motioning all over his face with his finger and I gasp covering my nose.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Now, no more tears" He says and I roll my eyes, hitting his shoulder lightly, laughing a little bit now.

"They're happy tears. I just love you, a lot. It's overwhelming sometimes," I bury my face into his neck and he rubs my back soothingly as I actually compose myself.

I must be severely PMS-ing because I'm never this emotional.

"I know what you mean," He says, my heart swelling once more. "It scares me how much I love you." He kisses my hair but I lift my head for a real one.

We share a tender kiss, the ocean breeze wrapping around us like a comforting embrace.

"I can see it too by the way. Having a family. But way, way in the future," I say when I pull away, fixing the hair on his forehead.

"Oh, yeah for sure. Although, shit happens, who knows." He shrugs and I raise my eyebrow.

"Well, thanks to modern science and my IUD, no kids for at least ten years," I say and his eyes widen a bit.

"Okay, ten years is kinda a long time..." He trails off, catching me off guard.

"Matt!" I say in shock.

"I'm kidding!" He laughs.

. ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ˖

Matt walks into the room after brushing his teeth just as I'm taking the throw pillows off the bed and pulling back the duvet.

I feel his arms wrap around me from behind and his face buries into my neck. He places open-mouth kisses on the curve of my neck, making his way up to my ear, where he grazes his teeth lightly.

I sigh, shuddering at the sensation and allowing my head to fall back against his shoulder.

He puts both hands on my hips this time, pulling my backside into his crotch. I moan at the feeling of him already hardening against me and I press my legs together in anticipation.

"I like this, no one around to interrupt...just us," His voice is velvet and I melt into his hold.

I hum, "Yeah, it's nice," My voice is airy.

"Can be as loud as we want, too..." He chuckles lowly, as I feel one of his hands sneak beneath my sleep shirt.

His fingertips delicately dance up my stomach, barely even touching my skin. Leaving goosebumps in their wake, yearning for his touch.

His hand stops right below my breast and I whine when he doesn't touch me further. I arch hoping to make more contact with his hand, but he doesn't give it to me.

"Matt," I say almost as a whisper, a plea.

"Mm," He hums, returning to kissing my neck. I can hear and feel the smug grin on his face, he knows what game he's playing.

"Touch me," I whine, arching again and lifting myself to reach his hand.

He finally cups my breast, taking my nipple in between his fingers and I gasp as he tugs and pinches gently.

He sucks on my ear lightly, giving it a kitten lick before blowing cold air. I spin around in his hold, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him into me.

The kiss was explosive, and we both let out a breath we didn’t realize we were holding.

He wraps his arms around me, pulling our hips flush together and leaning into the kiss more, forcing me to bend back.

In the heat of the moment, we stumble back onto the bed behind us clumsily, my butt slipping off the edge of the bed. I yelp when I almost fall, and laugh into the kiss. Our teeth clink together momentarily as he chuckles too.

He grabs under my thighs, lifting me further onto the bed as I make room for him to settle between them.

"That's better," He breathes out before kissing me again, laying me down on the cool linen sheets.

I revel in the feeling of his weight on top of me, our hips perfectly puzzled together, my hands running through his soft hair, while his rest on my hips.

I tug at the roots of his hair to elicit a delicious sound from him, something primal and guttural.

He squeezes my hips and pulls back to look down at me with half-lidded eyes. His pupils are so blown out you can barely make out the icy blue of his irises.

He keeps eye contact with me as he makes his way lower, lifting my sleep shirt above my breasts. My nipples pebble and harden as they're exposed to the cool air. He places wet kisses down my sternum, then my stomach until he reaches right above my cotton underwear.

He kneels on the floor so he's perfectly aligned in front of my core, his fingers play with the band of my underwear and he smiles to himself shaking his head.

I lean up on my elbows, "What?" I can't help but smile back.

"Kittens?" He raises his eyebrows and smirks at me.

I shrug, not ashamed in the slightest at the pattern of my underwear.

"Yeah, you like 'em?" I deadpan, but break into a grin when he tips his head back and laughs.

Endearingly, of course.

"Very sexy," he replies, and I shriek as he yanks me to the very edge of the bed.

He slips his fingers into the hem of my underwear, finally pulling them down my legs and discarding them. He lightly slaps the inside of my thigh before prying them apart and pinning them.

Just as quick as we're joking about my underwear, I'm back to trembling under his touch.

Completely exposed to him now, he teases me, kissing my inner thighs and nipping at the sensitive skin.

My hips buck at the gentle assault but he keeps me in place, stunting my movements.

"Patience..." he chides and I roll my eyes.

He slaps my thigh a little harder this time and I hiss, my core pulsing at the act. He licks a stripe on each crease of my thigh, purposely ignoring my aching cunt.

His thumbs spread my lips apart before he collects my arousal using it to circle my clit. I whimper at the contact, stopping myself from bucking my hips again.

Matt's in a trance, mouth agape, eyes heavy, as he continues to tease me and I become more and more restless.

Almost as if he couldn't contain himself any longer, he finally buries his head between my thighs. He hungrily licks from my entrance up to my clit, before sucking on my swollen nub like I'm a honeysuckle.

"Fuck," I gasp under my breath, squirming under his grip. My breath shallowed and my heart stuttered.

"I told you, we could be as loud as we want," He slurs against me, flattening his tongue against me and shaking his head side to side quickly.

I let go of a whine before snapping my legs around his head, overwhelmed by pleasure. He growls, immediately prying them back open and relentlessly swirling his tongue against me.

I grab a hold of the hair at the crown of his head as he continues to drink me in. Skillfully lapping every inch of my folds, knowing exactly what to do to get me wound up in merely minutes.

I feel the build-up of my first orgasm, all my muscles going taut as I begin to shake uncontrollably.

Matt knows that I'm about to come, so he pulls his mouth away and replaces it with his fingers. He slips his ring and middle fingers inside me with ease, massaging my front wall and coaxing my orgasm out of me with each gentle drag.

"Oh my fucking god," I cry out, my hips moving with his fingers.

He stands above me now, swiping my hair away from my face and gently caressing my cheekbone. I grab onto his bicep beside me as he leans down to kiss me, swallowing my whimpers. 

"C'mon, baby. I can feel you squeezing the fuck outta my fingers. Come for me," His voice is a gentle command against my jaw. 

His mouth attaches to my nipple as his thumb smushes into my puffy clit, drawing lazy circles, stimulating me everywhere.

That's all it takes before the wave peaks, then crashes and floods of icy-hot, blinding pleasure courses through me. He moans against me as he feels me pulse and ooze around his fingers.

My nails dig into his bicep and I arch into him, my hips mindlessly riding out the pleasure as his name falls from my lips in a desperate, broken cry.

His mouth and fingers gently work me through the aftershocks before I'm grabbing his wrist and whining from the sensitivity. 

"You're so fucking hot," He breathes, kissing me again.

I exhale into him, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him down onto me.

He pulls back, tossing his shirt off his head and undoing his belt, looking down at me as I lay half-naked and panting. I lean up on my elbows and move myself further up the bed.

He's only in his black boxers now, placing a knee on the bed before crawling towards me.

"Wanna taste you," I say, reaching up to kiss his neck and he lets out a shaky breath.

He shakes his head, "I won't fucking make it," he pants, grabbing my jaw and claiming my mouth again.

He pulls back, "As much as I love this fucking mouth," He adds darkly, tracing my swollen lips before licking them sensually and kissing me deeper.

I moan at the kiss and the feel of his cold rings against my hot skin. I run my hands down his chest as our breathing picks up, the kiss becoming more heated.

I run my tongue along his bottom lip and he allows me in before moving his hand down from my jaw to my neck, squeezing gently.

I pull back this time to take my shirt off, leaving me completely bare in front of him. I then hook my fingers in the band of his boxers and pull them down just enough to free him. His dick springs up, the tip so red it looks painful.

I spit into my hand before taking him into my hand and giving him a couple of strokes, swiping his weeping tip with my thumb. He whimpers at the touch before grabbing my wrist and making me release him.

I pout, bringing my thumb to my mouth to suck off his precum. His mouth falls agape at the sight, and his eyes screw shut as he falls onto one of his hands weakly.

"What's wrong?" I make sure my voice is dripping like sweet, gooey honey. Tempting a very hungry grizzly bear.

He grits his teeth, straightening himself back up on his knees in front of me. I look up at him, my hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

"You're going to be the death of me," His voice is gritty, and I tilt my head innocently. I yelp when he grabs my hips and flips me over.

It's moments like these that remind me of his surprising strength.

He pulls me onto my knees so my cheek is pressed into the mattress and my ass is elevated, leaving me exposed and shaking with anticipation.

His hand comes down onto my asscheek and I hiss at the sting. I feel his dick poke the back of my thigh as his hand smooths over my ass to ease the burn.

"Matt, please," I pant when he kisses down my spine and I push my hips back impatiently.

"Need my cock that bad, hm?" he murmurs against my skin and I nod quickly.

"Need you inside me, please," I whine, not caring how desperate I sound, only focused on how his low chuckle makes my core pulse around nothing.

"Yeah?" He croons and my breath hitches when I feel him run his tip along my aching pussy. Knocking against my clit with each teasing stroke.

"Yes-" I whimper and then gasp when I feel the familiar, delicious stretch of him.

I grip the sheets as he grips my hips harshly, slowly entering me.

"Fuuuck," He strains out, and I can picture the vein in his neck protruding, wishing I could lick it.

He fills me completely, his hips flush against my ass. I whimper as I feel him buried deep inside me, hitting a sensitive spot that turns my legs into jelly.

He begins guiding me in a gentle rhythm, slow and deliberate, determined to make this last. His thrusts are deep, intentionally angling down to hit the spot that he knows makes me see stars.

"You feel so fucking good, so deep," I praise him and he slightly picks up the pace.

My core tightens around him involuntarily and he hisses, his grip on my hip becoming almost painfully tight.

"Fuck, don't do that. I'll come too fast," He pulls back slightly, trying to steady himself.

"I don't care," I push back against him again, just wanting to feel him.

He curses under his breath, his hands firm on my hips to stop my movements. He pulls me up by my hair, my back against his chest now and I laugh maniacally before moaning at the fresh angle.

"Must you always be so defiant?" His breath is hot against my ear and I can't help the grin on my face. I love getting him riled up.

"I like it when you push me around," I admit, my voice dripping with playful challenge.

He releases his grip on my hair, and I catch myself on my hands, bracing for whatever comes next.

"Yeah? You like it when I'm rough?" He presses, his voice low and taunting.

"Mhm," I hum pressing my hips back again but he pulls out, leaving me feeling empty.

I go to whine in protest but I'm shut up with the hardest slap of the night, right on top of the red mark he left before.

I cry out and bury my face into the sheets again, but quiver with longing for more.

"That's what you wanted, right?" He continues to taunt and spanks me again but this time, on the other side.

I moan and go to rub my clit for some sort of relief but he grabs both my wrists, knocking me down further.

Another smack. I groan this time in frustration.

He gathers my wrists in one hand as I feel him lean over me. His hand sneaks around to find my neck as he presses his mouth against my ear.

"Are you just that fucking desperate?" He queries, his fingers pressing into my pulse points, just enough for my head to lighten.

"Please, Matt." I plea, but don't exactly know what I'm pleading for.

"What's the matter, baby, you can't handle it anymore? Thought you liked me pushing you around," He tuts.

His free hand lifts my hips before he teases my entrance with his tip and I let out a shaky breath.

"Hm? Nothing to say?" He pushes his tip in but pulls back and I whine at the teasing.

He releases my neck to brush my hair away so he can see the side of my face. A reminder that he's still the caring Matt I love.

"Just fuck me, please," I beg and he sighs deeply.

"You're so fucking lucky I love you,” he says through his teeth before he drives into me again in one swift motion.

Both of us moan in relief, the tension finally being broken.

He grinds his hips down into me teasingly and my eyes roll back at the intense, tight angle.

I feel his body heat leave my back as he straightens out behind me. Placing his hands on my lower back, he leans forward causing my back to arch before slamming into me. Again and again and again.

Each breath is knocked out of me, and each blow is deeper than the last, discovering a new spot inside of me and pushing me closer and closer to the edge. His pace quickens with every approving sound I make, answering me with his own moans of approval.

He turns me onto my back, staying inside me, wrapping my leg around his waist before leaning forward to kiss me slowly.

"Mm, missed your face," he admits softly, his thrusts starting off slow but steadily increasing momentum. "Wanna see that pretty face when I make you come," he coos, and I shriek at a particularly hard thrust that sends me further up the bed.

He watches my face the entire time, studying every furrow, every eye roll, mirroring my expressions as if he can feel everything he is doing to me.

I can tell he's trying to distract himself, to last longer, slowing down to kiss me and then picking up the pace.

My second orgasm build-up is slower and more subtle. It almost comes out of nowhere, but he knows my body so well. He reaches down to stimulate my clit, deepening his strokes, driving me to the brink.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh-" My back arches, and my ears ring as my orgasm rips me apart.

"Good girl, fucking come for me–oh fuck. I'm coming–I'm gonna come. W-where do you want me to-" He rushes out, as my pussy continues to spasm around him.

Through my haze, I push my heels into his hips and grab the back of his neck.

"I-inside, come inside me," I pant and he shudders, whimpering.

"Oh my–fucking, fuck," He strains as he comes and I moan at the feeling of him filling me up.

He pushes as deep as he can inside me, and the aftershocks of my orgasm milk him further causing him to hiss.

He collapses into my collarbone, his hair drenched in sweat as he takes a moment to regain strength.

I place a hand in his hair and scratch his back lightly as we settle into a steady breathing rhythm.

"Holy fuck," he says eventually into my neck, laughing a little and I giggle too.

"Wait, wait don't laugh-" He pulls away with his face scrunched and I realize he's still inside me.

He hisses again in sensitivity, looking down at where we're connected before pulling out of me carefully. I whimper at the feeling and he softly apologizes.

I feel his come leak out of me and I watch his expression falter for a second as he notices the sight.

"Fuck me," he says under his breath, shaking his head and I bite my lip to stop myself from giggling.

I slowly reach my hand down to play with myself and his eyes widen as he quickly grabs my hand to stop me.

"Are you trying to kill me tonight? No, I'm cleaning you up and we're going to bed. Stay right there, don't fucking move." He gets up, pointing at me as he walks away.

I cover my mouth and laugh at his reaction. He comes back with a wet washcloth, using it to wipe me carefully.

He huffs out again, shaking his head and I give him a knowing look.

"Devil woman, don't look at me like that." He tries to sound stern, but his voice cracks with nerves.

"I love you," I tell him, meaning it. His eyes soften and he leans over me, a hand on either side of my head. He scans my face, a soft smile carves into his face before he leans down to kiss me.

"We really need our own place," he says when he pulls back and my stomach flips.

"What was that?" I ask him with wide eyes.

"I said we really need a shower, c'mon," He lies, laughing as he tries to pull me up but I'm tugging him back towards me.

'Hey, get back here. That's not what you said," I laugh at his antics but he runs away towards the bathroom before I hear him call back.

"I plead the fifth!"

[readerthatreadsss]

Worth The Wait | Steven Grant

(Inspired by the song of the same title by Kali Uchis)

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: You and Steven have been roommates for a while now. But one night after being stood up by yet another guy in a string of dates gone wrong, Steven offers you some support...which sparks an interesting chain of events.

Warnings[18+ activities MDNI]: sub! (ish) Steven, dom! (ish) reader, fools in love, friends/roommates to lovers, mentions of drunk reader (but not drunk when they actually have sex, you'll see), crying (reader's drunk and starts venting for a bit, that's all), unprotected p in v sex (cloak the joker before you poke her), oral sex (steven and r receiving), Steven doubting himself mid-sex, assertive reader and awkward Steven! , choking (r receiving), riding, creampie, barely edited cause I'm really fuckin tired.

A/N: Hi. Don't ask me where I found the time or motivation to write this shit when school started back a month ago. The idea just popped into my head and my fingers didn't stop moving once I opened a draft. Note, I have a tall fem! reader x Steven in my drafts to finish so don't think I forgot!

"Steeeeven," knock knock knock, "STEVENNNN," knock knock knock−

Steven's brows furrowed beneath his reading glasses at the sound of your voice coming from outside your shared apartment door. Concern as well as confusion sprang through him instantly. You sounded drunk. Which he was sure to be the case seeing as you were sloppily knocking at the door rather than opening it with your keys.

He quickly shut the book he was reading and removed his glasses before making his way over to the door in fear that your next call of his name would wake the entire building.

Unfortunately, he opened the door at the very moment you launched your hand forward to knock once more. This caused you to tumble through the door with a drunken yelp. But Steven caught you in his arms before your body could hit the ground.

You looked up at him with a lazy smile and hooded eyes. "Thanks, Stevie bear," you hiccuped, using both hands to cling onto one of his very defined biceps. You had never realized how big and firm they were before that moment.

"You're welcome," Steven replied worriedly. He swiftly shut the door with his foot and used your grip on his arm to bring you standing back on your feet. "Y/n what the bloody hell happened to your date?"

You rolled your eyes at his question, kicking off your heels and making your way over to the couch without somehow falling again. "See now, Steven," you paused and pointed at him drunkenly, "it can't be a date if the said date doesn't even bother to show up!" you explained.

Steven sighed deeply at your explanation as he sat on the other end of the couch. This wasn't the first time this had happened to you—or him for that matter—but he could never understand why. You were easily one of the most beautiful women in London, and definitely one of the smartest, (your framed Ph.D. in psychology hanging over the television was evidence of that). You were the full package and more. Any man would be lucky to have you.

But the men of London were clearly morons if they kept standing you up or acting like complete knobs to you on your dates.

He would never do that to you. But he's seen photos of your past dates. A woman like you was way out of his league and would never go for someone like him, anyone with eyes could see that.

"How much have you had to drink?" Steven suddenly asked you.

You raised 3 fingers to the best of your ability. "Six," you answered before bursting into a fit of giggles at Steven's expression.

"Gosh, y/n, you're absolutely clobbered," he grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and spread it over where your short skin-tight dress was riding up your thighs.

"Well I didn't lie," you sat up abruptly, throwing the blanket off your lap and turning to face Steven and sit as crosslegged as your dress would allow, "Three of the drinks were margaritas...the other three were shots of vodka though," you admitted softly as if it were some secret for only yours and Steven's ears.

"Do you have work in the morning?" Steven questioned gently, picking up the blanket and handing it back to you. Your dress was riding up with every slight movement you made, which meant more of your thighs being exposed to him. Despite this, Steven wouldn't dare look anywhere except your eyes.

"Nope." You threw the blanket back on the floor. The night was pretty warm, you don't understand why Steven keeps giving it to you.

"Do you want me to make you some coffee or tea?"

"Yup."

Steven looked at you in question for a few seconds. "Which one?" he prodded, fighting back a smile at your muddled state.

You moved closer and narrowed your eyes, "Which one of what?" you questioned, truly confused, before breaking out into another fit of drunken giggles that caused you to momentarily tumble forward and land your hands on Steven's thighs.

"Coffee it is then," Steven answered for you, his voice traveling up an octave. He then carefully moved your hand from his thighs, trying to ignore the chills your touch sent up his spine, and hightailed it to the kitchen to put on the percolator for you.

You tilted your head as he walked away, noting how quickly he left.

When Steven returned with your cup of coffee (with cream and no sugar just how you liked it), he found you seated in the same spot but with his blanket draped over your head and body while soft sniffles and sobs met his ears.

He placed your cup on the table nearby and carefully approached your figure on the couch. Steven reached for the blanket and slowly removed it from your body.

"Why are you crying, love?" he sweetly asked once your face came into view.

"Because I'm a mess," you sniffled, using a hand to wipe the trail of tears falling from your eyes.

Steven's head tilted in disbelief at your words. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Yes I do," you nodded fervently, "It's why my dates have sucked for the past 2 months, it's why I got passed over for that goddamn promotion at work last week, and it's why you can't stand being around me for longer than 3 minutes these days."

Steven was taken aback by your words. You thought he couldn't stand to be around you? That's impossible.

"You practically sprinted to the kitchen!" you added after a few moments of silence.

"To make you coffee," Steven protested, gesturing to the cup lying untouched nearby.

"I saw your face," you looked down at where your hands lay in your lap.

Steven swallowed harshly. "Y/n."

You ignored his call for your attention.

"Look at me," he came closer and entangled his hands with your own in your lap, immediately causing you to look up at him with tear-stained eyes, "You are not a mess," he softly yet sternly said to you.

"Yes I am−"

"No. You are not," he interrupted your arguing, "Your dates? They're all losers for letting you slip through their hands. And if a few bad dates is fate's way of making you wait to find the one, then I think that's well worth the holdup, yeah?"

You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously before nodding in agreement.

"And as for my behavior earlier, it was−" Steven paused with a sigh fumbling for a sensible excuse, "it's your perfume."

You pulled a face that would have made Steven laugh under normal circumstances. "My perfume? You hate my perfume?"

Steven swallowed harshly. He hated lying. He wasn't even good at it. But convincing you that he couldn't bear your perfume was easier than admitting that he just couldn't handle the way your hands felt on his thighs or the way his entire body heated up when you leaned closer to him. "Yup. The smell was too much for me," he fibbed.

You rested your head in your palms, pouting slightly. "But you're the only reason I wear this perfume, Steven," you confessed, barely audible.

Steven's face fell. "What?"

"You told me that you liked it when I moved in and from then I kept buying it just because you liked it."

Steven's heart swelled at your admission. He felt like an asshole. He was no better than the losers you'd been going on dates with.

You continued to speak. You could feel words preparing to leave your lips that have been eating at you for a while, now guided by your lowered inhibitions. "And I didn't only mean just now. These past few weeks you can barely look me in my eyes, or be near me, Steven. What am I doing wrong?" your voice broke with your last words.

Steven had seen you cry a few times before. But this time was different. The look on your face was heart-wrenching. He couldn't believe that he made you feel like this.

Because he was having trouble dealing with his own feelings for you, he made you think he hated you...when it was the complete opposite.

"There's nothing wrong with you. It's all my fault," Steven said, breaking away from your gaze, feeling it pierce through him.

"I'm the one who was dumb enough to fall in love with you..." he added, only to look up and see you passed out against the arm of the couch.

A part of him was saddened that you fell asleep before hearing his confession. But another was grateful and profoundly unprepared for your inevitable rejection.

Steven looked at you for a few more seconds before carefully picking you up—smiling to himself when you curled into his chest—and carrying you to your bedroom.

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

You woke up in a slight daze...and in someone else's bed.

It took a few glances around the room for you to piece together that you were in Steven's room.

And then all of last night's events came back to mind, seeping in and clearing the fog that your excessive alcohol consumption had sired;

Your failed date. Coming home and falling into Steven's arms. Saying way too much to Steven. Steven's last words before your body shut down.

Steven.

Steven.

Steven.

"Oh God," you mumbled, cradling your face in your hands.

Eventually, you pulled yourself out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. You thanked whatever higher power was at work that Steven was still asleep on the couch when you padded through the living room.

But when you finished showering and exited the bathroom, you were hit with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You poked your head into the living room to make sure Steven was still in the kitchen before running a path straight to your room and getting dressed.

After throwing on one of your old university crew necks and the first shorts you could get your hands on (which happened to be very short ones), you heard a knock at your door followed by Steven's voice.

"Y/N? I have a cup of green tea and some painkillers here...thought you'd need them."

You found yourself smiling at the sound of his voice, something that was becoming more common in recent weeks. What did you do to deserve a man like Steven in your life?

You quickly moved to open the door and let Steven in. "Hey, Steven," you greeted him with a small smile.

He released a nervous chuckle as he presented a cup and two pills to you. "Good morning."

You took them happily, bringing them to your night table. "I'm not actually feeling very hungover," you said to him, turning to sit on your bed.

"Really? That's surprising...considering last night," Steven replied, taking a hesitant step further into your room.

"Yeah must be my tolerance and all that," you shrugged, taking interest in how Steven had yet to meet your eyes since you opened the door.

A beat of silence passed between you while you took a sip of your tea. "Steven, you can sit," you softly spoke, gesturing to your bed.

"Oh, sure," Steven took a seat at the farthest edge of your bed, maintaining a more than comfortable space between you.

"How'd I end up in your bed this morning?" you suddenly questioned. You were genuinely curious, but the reaction it garnered from Steven was more than worth it.

After a brief clear of his throat, Steven answered, "Well you sorta climbed into my bed in the middle of the night, gave me quite a scare actually, and I wanted to give you space to rest so I let you have my bed and I slept in the couch."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you frowned, a tinge of embarrassment seeping in, "Why didn't you sleep in my bed?"

"Because..." laying in your bed that smells flawlessly like you would've sent him into cardiac arrest- "the couch is more comfortable."

You nodded in understanding, placing your half-empty teacup back on the table.

"If you uh need anything," Steven stood up from your bed, slowly walking backward to the door, "just shout," he said as he turned to open the door.

"Did you mean it?"

Steven halted in place at your words, his back still facing you.

You slid off your bed and approached his oddly still figure.

Steven's throat ran dry. There's no way you could have actually heard him. Right? "What?" is all he managed to say.

You walked past him and used a hand to close the door, coming to stand in front of him. You needed to look at his face. Living with Steven for a year has taught you that he wasn't a man of many words but his face said more than enough when he couldn't. Drunk you couldn't utilize your psych degree the night before, but sober you sure could at that moment.

"Did you mean it?" you repeated, "When you said you fell in love with me?"

Steven's jaw slackened when he met your stare, that feeling of being pierced by your gaze returning. "I-"

Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer to him, now being close enough for his nervous breaths to fan across your lips. "Because if you meant it then I would tell you that. I think..." you paused and looked away for a moment, "No, I know that I love you too."

Steven's hooded brown eyes widened. He blinked a few times, trying to will himself to wake up if this was a dream.

You bit back a small laugh at his expression before you continued. "I love how willing you were to rent some small-time therapist your extra bedroom because you heard her crying in the corner of a coffee shop that she'd been kicked out by her stupid ex-boyfriend. I love the mugs you buy me every month because you saw them and they reminded you of me. I love how you watch shitty action movies with me after every bad date I have because you want to take my mind off them. I love how much you care about...everything really. I love you, Steven Grant," an enlightened smile rested on your face as you spoke, "and I'm sorry that I spent the past year thinking everything you made me feel was platonic when the truth was that you made me feel things that no one else has. I'm an idiot Steven-"

"No," Steven's first word came, a relieved smile accompanying it, "You are not an idiot. You are the smartest person I've ever met. Smarter than me, that's for sure," at that, you both laughed, "I've spent this whole year thinking that you would never see me as anything more than your weird, boring roommate...and turns out you loved me this whole time," he ended in a soft whisper, shocked by his own conclusion. Steven found his eyes drifting down to your lips and you immediately took note of it.

You exhaled deeply before closing the gap between you and Steven, meeting his lips in a bold kiss.

Initially stunned, Steven sunk into your lips soon after, gently bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your face.

Your brain fogged as Steven devoured your lips, an unusual confidence taking over him. You wrapped your hands around his neck and smiled into the kiss, allowing Steven to slip his tongue past your lips, tasting more of you and pulling a moan from your chest.

Steven pulled away first, feeling himself enter a state that he wouldn't dare himself to in your presence. You bit back a whine when his lips left yours, looking up at him in confusion.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he spoke, taking a step away from you.

You licked your lips and stepped towards him. "Steven, trust me, I want to do this. I want to do a lot more than this actually," you pulled his waist flush against your body, drawing a shared moan from you both when his growing bulge pressed against your stomach.

Steven's hands flew up to grab the back of your neck and your jaw. He softly muttered your name, as a warning more than anything else.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss against the corner of his lips. "If you say no, we will stop this right now and go eat breakfast. But if you say yes, we are gonna stay here and I'm gonna let you do very bad things to my body."

Steven swallowed harshly. "God, yes," he replied, failing to swallow back a whimper at the implication of your words.

Your hands squeezed his waist as you moved back to look at his face fully. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that Stevie," you smirked.

Steven looked down at you with adoration clear in his eyes. He couldn't believe this was really about to happen. He used his hold on your neck to pull your lips crashing into his. This kiss was a lot more hungrier than the first, with Steven now making his intentions much clearer.

"I'll take that as a yes," you grinned between kisses.

Steven groaned his agreement as he continued to kiss you.

You used your grip on his waist to push him back towards your bed, effectively breaking your kiss and causing him to land on the edge of your bed with a grunt.

Steven looked up at you through his lashes in awe as you approached him. He watched keenly as you removed your top, wearing nothing underneath, before moving to straddle his thighs. Steven made a move to touch your chest before stopping his shaky hands midair and looking at you in question.

You gently held Steven's chin up and smiled down at him. "Steven you can touch me," you reassured him. Even in an intimate moment like this, he was ever the gentleman...

Steven indulged with a sheepish smile and brought both his palms to each of your breasts. Unable to help himself, Steven dove in and took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud.

"Fuck, Steven," you moaned, eyes slamming shut at how good it felt. Your words only seemed to egg him on further as Steven switched to your other breast, his lips and tongue moving against it with more enthusiasm.

Your hands at the back of his neck grabbed fistfuls of his curls while his ministrations against your chest pulled more moans and whines from your lips.

Some time after, you pulled Steven's lips away from your breasts and met them in a searing kiss, pressing your clothed cunt down against his erection. "Shit," Steven lowly cursed, bringing his hands to your waist to grind you down further against his bulge.

You obliged with a moan, grinding in Steven's lap harder. "Tell me what you want, Steven," you whispered against his lips.

Steven's hands squeezed your waist harshly when your lips began sucking against his throat. He could barely put together thoughts at the moment, much less words.

You trailed a hand down to the waistband of Steven's sweats and slowly reached under it for his cock. You swallowed a moan when your hand traced his full length and girth. "You've been holding out on me Steven," you chuckled against his neck.

Steven blushed furiously at your words. "Thank you?" he responded awkwardly, barely functioning with your hand rubbing along his cock.

You chuckled once again, pulling away from his neck to look at him. "You're so pretty," you said, causing another wave of red to hit Steven's cheeks.

"No one's ever said that to me before," he admitted softly.

"Well that's okay, cause I want to be the only one who makes you blush like this," you grinned brushing a stray curl from his forehead, "I bet your cock is just as pretty," your hand picked up speed beneath Steven's pants, "Can I see it? Please?"

Steven nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you want," he said with a desperation that had your pussy throbbing with need. You briefly lifted your hips allowing Steven to clumsily slide off his sweatpants and boxers and step out of them.

Once you returned to your position on his thighs, you looked down at his cock, the head already dripping with small beads of precum. The length was truly unexpected, as well as the girth. You would do anything to feel him inside you.

But for now, you really wanted to taste him.

Steven watched you sink to your knees before him, your eyes never straying from his.

"Are you sure you want to-"

"Steven you said anything I wanted," you paused, gliding your fingers over his length and watching it twitch in response, "And I really want to taste you. Can I suck your cock, Steven?"

Steven's breathing picked up as he took in the image before him; you on your knees, touching his dick while literally begging to suck it with a look in your eyes he could only compare to the look of a wild female tiger eyeing her freshly caught meal in the nature documentary he watched the week before.

"Please, please do," his response came soon after.

You began with a kiss to the head of his cock that made it immediately jump in your hand. You couldn't help but chuckle, and it was a sound that Steven hoped would be the last thing he heard before he left this earth. "You're so sensitive, Stevie," you cooed before pressing another kiss but to the base of his length.

Steven released a sharp moan at both of your kisses to his cock, finding himself embarrassingly close to cumming already.

"Please," he pleaded your name with a whine, "stop teasing."

You swirled your tongue around the head where precum had gathered, moaning in time with your movements and drawing yet another mewl from Steven. "Oh but Stevie, I just love hearing you say please," you teased him, looking up from where you had a hand wrapped around his base and another briefly caressing his balls.

Steven was now panting, his eyes never leaving you as you held him. He watched you slowly wrap your lips around his tip before slowly sinking down.

After reaching a little more than halfway down Steven's cock, you felt yourself gag but simply stilled instead of removing yourself completely.

"Fucking hell," Steven grunted before melding into a pathetic moan once you held your position. You eventually let up when you almost ran out of air and slowly removed your lips from his dick, your eyes meeting his with tears streaming along your face from the stretch.

You were prepared to do it once again but felt Steven's palm grab your chin before you could. "No, love, please. If you do that again I'm afraid I'm not gonna last."

Steven watched you lick your lips before shifting to trap his thumb in between your lips and softly suck on it. He couldn't stop the whine that slipped his lips at your action.

You eventually released his thumb from the confines of your mouth and came to stand over him with a smile. "Well then. Tell me what you want to do next. I'm all yours, baby, remember?"

Steven brought his hands to rest on your hips and leaned forward to press a soft kiss against your stomach. "I-uhh," his brows furrowed and he shook his head briefly as if sending away a thought.

"What is it, Steven?"

The man beneath you looked up to meet your eager eyes, suddenly confident enough to say what he wanted. "I really...really want to taste you."

You felt your breath hitch at his request. It was rare for a man to enthusiastically offer to go down on you. Though it was clear to you now that Steven was most definitely a rare man.

"You want to?" you felt your voice come out a lot more unsure than usual.

Steven's brows furrowed once again as a fleeting smile graced his lips at your response. "Of course I do, sweetheart. Do men not usually..."

You harshly exhaled. "I mean some do but I usually have to complain first or they do it cause they want me to return the favor," you admitted.

"They don't deserve you. No one does," Steven softly uttered, gazing up at you with eyes you were growing more fond of by the minute.

You quickly leaned down to meet him in a kiss in response. You didn't deserve him either.

Steven pulled you back into his lap and kissed you back eagerly. But he was the first to pull away, causing you to whine in a way that made his cock jump against your cunt. "I-I really did mean it, love, I need to taste you. Now."

You had never seen Steven so demanding. It had you throbbing in anticipation. You allowed him to lay you on your back and peel away your shorts and panties to reveal the part of you where you needed him most.

Steven looked starstruck as he examined your arousal. He moved closer and closer to your pussy, letting his warm breath fan over your glistening lips.

"Steven please-" you begged, though you couldn't finish your thought before your voice broke into a loud moan when Steven licked a stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit.

Steven closed his eyes, relishing his first taste of you. It was everything he'd quite literally dreamed of and more.

And so, he eagerly dived into your core.

Your hands flew to Steven's head working between your legs as your thighs instinctively closed around his head from the sudden wave of pleasure surging through you.

The feeling of your thighs trapping his head against your pussy was absolute bliss to Steven. He moaned into you as his tongue swirled around your clit sloppily. If he was inexperienced, you couldn't tell because every movement of his tongue brought you closer and closer to your release.

The vibrations of Steven's enjoyment drew a brief scream from your chest before you slapped a hand over your lips to silence it.

Steven finally came up for air, his lips and jaws covered in your slick. His curls were strewn along his forehead by a damp layer of sweat as his dilated pupils met your own. "C'mon. I want to hear those pretty noises you make for me, love," he said before running two of his fingers through your folds to gather some of your wetness and slowly inserting them into you.

"Oh my-STEVEN" your back arched up and off your bed as you felt immediately filled up by Steven's digits.

Steven gauged your reactions as he slowly removed his fingers before pushing them again with no resistance due to your arousal. "I've wanted this for so long, love," he began to speak as he slowly leaned down to press his lips against your clit in a kiss, "Wanted to hear you moaning my name," he sped up his fingers' movements inside you, "Wanted to taste you," he added another finger, now touching that spot inside your walls with every thrust, "You're so beautiful," he ended before fully diving back in with his tongue against your bud.

"Yes—fuck—you're so good to me baby," you finally gathered enough breath to speak while gaining a proper grip on his head. With every sharp lick or nip he'd make, you would tighten your grip on his hair and it would only spur him on further. It was only a matter of seconds from there before...

"Shit, I'm gonna cum, Steven," you called out, looking down to meet where he was already staring up at you, and speeding up his fingers and tongue's ministrations against you.

He held your stare once he felt your walls clench around his fingers and heard your moan melt into a scream.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK," you shouted as your orgasm slammed into you thanks to Steven's eager tongue and fingers.

Steven watched your chest slow its heaving when your climax subsided and removed his fingers but couldn't stop himself from licking the remnants of your release from your folds. It was as if he was trying to work you up to another orgasm.

"Shit Steven wait," you mewled, attempting to close your legs from overstimulation. But Steven used strength you'd never known him to have to shove your legs back open and hold them in place, clearly intent on tasting every bit of what you had to offer.

Your eyes widened. "Holy fuck," you removed both your hands from Steven's head and ran them over your face and boobs. He was driving you absolutely insane. If it weren't for his grip on your legs you would be trembling beneath him.

It wasn't long before a second orgasm crept up on you, one more powerful than the last. Your lips parted in a silent scream as your climax washed over your entire body, from your thighs to your feet, to the base of your fucking spine.

Steven couldn't help but stare as he cleaned you up for the last time with his tongue. He couldn't believe he got to see this. To make you feel like this.

Your high subsided soon after and you released a sharp exhale followed by a laugh of disbelief.

Steven moved from his position on his knees before you to hover above you on your bed. "You okay, love?" he questioned in concern

You responded to his question with a satisfied grin. "I'm great, Stevie," you spoke before meeting his lips in a sweet kiss, "But..."

Steven's face fell at your words. He slowly moved from above you to lay next to you, scared to meet your eyes. "I did something wrong didn't I? Or did I forget to do something? I'm sorry-" he rambled, immediately doubting himself.

But his words died in his throat when you turned and caressed his cheek with a hand, your grin still present on your face. "You did nothing wrong," you insisted, "That was no doubt one of the best orgasms of my entire life."

Steven looked away and laughed at your confession. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better."

"I mean it, Steven," your voice grew stern, "That was fucking incredible."

Steven couldn't even formulate a response.

"What I was going to say was," you broke his silence, "I promised you could do bad things to my body and you haven't done nearly enough for me," you ended with a smirk.

Steven grunted when he felt your fingertips run along his cock.

"Don't you want to fuck me, Steven?" you questioned innocently while completely wrapping your hand around and stroking Steven's dick.

He nodded quickly, his bottom lip held between his teeth as he tried not to react to how soft your hand felt around his painfully hard cock. "I do. So badly, love."

You released him and brought a hand over to grab Steven's neck before using your grip to pull him back to his previous position above you. "Then fuck me, Steven. I need you to fuck me," you whispered.

Steven wasted no time in grabbing his length and lining himself up with your entrance. "Are you sure?" he checked in with you once more.

You jerked your hip in the direction of his cock in an effort to fill yourself up but to no avail. You were so damn desperate you didn't care how you sounded. "Yes Steven, please, I need you to fill me up. Fill me up baby, c'mon," you whined hurriedly.

"Well who am I to deny you of what you want, love?" he replied before slowly guiding himself into you.

He immediately groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. "Heavens, love, you're so—aghh—tight," he grunted.

Your moans were never-ending as he sunk into you inch by inch. The stretch was briefly painful but it hurt so good you didn't care.Steven stopped halfway in and leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart," he praised you.

You bit your lip at his praise. "More, Steven, keep going."

Steven obliged and fully sunk into you with one last push. Your moans mixed in the air at the sudden change. "You feel so good inside me Steven, oh my God-" you cried out.

You nearly choked on air when Steven slowly pulled out of your heat before slamming back into you.

"SHIT," you both cursed together before opening your eyes to look at each other.

"Faster, baby, I can take it I promise," you nodded, bringing your hands up to the sides of Steven's face. You even wrapped your legs around Steven's waist.

Steven took a deep breath before pulling out and rutting into you again, now establishing a pace. Which every thrust inside your cunt, Steven grazed your g-spot, effortlessly. It was as if you were built for his cock.

"Fuckin' love the way you fuck me, Steven," you mumbled as Steven set a brutal pace inside you.

Steven leaned down to press his forehead against yours as he continued to fuck you. Your breathing seemed to sync as he pulled out moan after moan from you.

His hands rested at the sides of your head but you could feel them inching closer to your neck.

Your pussy clenched around him at the thought of him choking you. Steven faltered in his thrusts in response. "Love you're squeezing me so hard I don't think I'm gonna last."

"Do it," you called out, tilting your head toward one of his hands.

"What?"

"I can see you thinking about it. Choke me, baby," your chest heaved as you felt your third orgasm of the night approaching.

Steven hesitated for a second before he stopped his thrusts and brought a shaky hand to wrap around your throat.

"I trust you, Steven," you spoke truthfully, "I want this too," you brought a hand to rest over Steven's briefly in reassurance.

Steven began roughly pounding you again with his hand now squeezing around your neck.

"Fuck yes, holy shit," you breathed out, feeling your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head with the newly added feeling of Steven's large hand wrapped around your throat. making you see stars.

Steven, although shocked by your immediate enjoyment of his secret guilty pleasure, took it as a sign to continue. So he trusted faster but made sure to maintain the same amount of pressure on your neck. He then got the idea to use his free hand to reach down and fiddle with your clit while fucking you.

You were instantly thrown over the edge. You came with as best a scream of Steven's name as you could manage with his hand still choking you. Chills ran down your spine while Steven slowed his thrusts inside you and waited for your orgasm to pass.

Eventually, you felt Steven release your neck and slowly begin to remove his cock from your cunt. You tightened your legs around his waist in protest. "Uh uh, we're not stopping till you come inside me, Steven," you demanded.

Steven loved the way you'd been taking control throughout all of this. He'd do anything you asked without a thought. "That's fine with me love," he nodded with a lopsided grin.

"Good," you deeply inhaled before using your hold on his waist to roll him onto his back, with you now straddling him.

You smiled at his shocked expression, which soon morphed into excitement. "You're bloody amazing," he grinned up at you.

You fought the heat that crawled onto your cheeks at his words and looked away with a smile. "Stop sweet talking me and fuck me, Steven."

He nodded quickly, "Yes ma'am." Steven slipped back into your entrance slowly.

But you grew impatient and fully sat down on his cock, loving how full he made you feel. Steven's cries met your ears soon after.

You grabbed his hands and placed each on one of your breasts before beginning to properly ride him. Steven heeded your directions and pawed at your chest while thrusting up to meet your hips.

His grunts soon became whimpers and whines as you rode him harder and faster, eager to make him cum.

"I'm almost there, love," he cried before sitting up and pulling you into his chest. His hands moved down to grip your waist where he guided you faster along his cock.

"There you go, Steven," you held his face against your own as his pace grew sloppy and his brown eyes slid shut.

"Cum for me, baby," you softly spoke with one last grind of your hips. Steven halted inside you with a broken sob of your name and filled you up with his warm release.

You moaned at the feeling of his spend coating your inner walls and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You did so good Steven."

"I love you," his eyes finally opened while he panted, looking up at you with vulnerable eyes as if scared that you wouldn't feel the same after what you had just done together.

"I love you too," you replied without hesitation. You gently shoved Steven onto his back and followed suit, laying down on his chest as you gently removed his softening cock from inside you. You felt his hands move to wrap around your body soon after, bringing you further into his body.

Steven was the first to speak after some time. "I think you're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time," he admitted, turning to look at you, not at all phased by the exhaustion in your features.

You leaned up to meet Steven in a heated kiss. He tightened his hold on you and met your lips with equal fervor. You pulled away reluctantly and looked down at his face with furrowed brows as you used a hand to trace his jaw and swollen lips. "Where have you been hiding my entire life, Steven Grant?"

"Haven't been hiding, love. I've just been here waiting for you."

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

WHEW! This ABSOLUTELY got away from me holy shit. 6k words? yeah, not the plan at all. But hey it's definitely something considering that I haven't been able to sit down and write anything till tonight.

So I really do hope you enjoyed it.

(Lemme go look back through my requests and see what else I can cook up.)

[scarletlizzard]

Part 4: Cat and Mouse

Sessions Series

Parings: dark Wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: smut, mentions of gun/knife, choking, strap on usage (R receiving), major manipulation, toxic, stalker

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you, everyone, for reading my first series! It's been so fun to write. If you have any questions, let me know! I'm thinking of writing an epilogue for it if yall are interested? To show where they are now. Let me know what y'all think 🩷

Early Spring 2016

Wanda tilts her head to the side, a smile on her face as she looks at the painting on the wall.

It's a Renaissance-style painting. A woman draped in elegant attire is depicted running gracefully across a grandiose landscape. Her flowing garments billow behind her as she glances over her shoulder with a mix of fear and excitement in her wide eyes.

Behind her, a single shadow looms ominously, its form elongated and exaggerated. The scene is bathed in soft, golden light, casting long shadows and creating a sense of darkness.

The woman's delicate features and intricate clothing are painted with meticulous detail, while the surrounding scenery showcases the artist's mastery of perspective and depth. The painting seems to capture the eternal struggle between light and darkness.

Wanda felt drawn to it. Something about it was pulling her in. This was her fourth time coming to see it, the gallery being just down the block from her office.

"Haunting, isn't it?" A voice, possibly the most alluring voice she had ever heard, speaks from next to her.

"It's breathtaking," Wanda mutters. Her eyes focus on the woman in the painting, then to the dark shadow behind her.

"The shadow, it never stops chasing her. She's constantly looking back over her shoulder, wondering.." The voice speaks again.

"Wondering what?" Wanda asks.

"Wondering when she'll be caught. It's all a game, see?" A finger points to the small plaque underneath the painting. The title of it read:

Cat and Mouse

***

Current Winter 2018

You felt a sense of deja vu as you ran throughout the house. A sense of unexpected excitement flows through you as your feet carry you to the front door - locked.

As you run down the hallway, your breathing picks up. You hear Wandas loud steps stalking behind you at an even pace. The back door - locked.

Down another hall, door after door - locked.

Running up the stairs you take in Wandas words,

"When I find you, I will fuck you."

You couldn't ignore the ache between your legs or the partial truth to her reasoning.

Had you gone and sought out for a stalker? No, but once your shadow appeared, your life became more interesting. You felt a spark inside of you, and you felt it last night, too.

You find an open door and shut it behind you, quickly locking it. With your back against the hard wood, you take a second to catch your breath. When you hear footsteps from the end of the hall, you also hear Wandas voice.

"Don't forget what I said, darling.." A door opens and closes, the footsteps draw nearer.

A small smile plays on your lips.

You were just as fucked up as she was.

***

Early Spring 2016

Wanda turns to the woman next to her, taking in her bewitching appearance.

"Did you paint this?" Wanda asks. You nod, smiling as you stare at your art.

"I did. I still can't believe it's here," you chuckle to yourself. She watches curiously as you tap your leg 4 times with your finger.

"It's amazing. You are truly talented.." Wanda continues to stare at you.

"Thank you, it's... it's very personal," you say with a nod, turning to the stranger. "She needs the shadow to keep pushing forward, but she'll never admit it to herself."

Before either of you can say anything else, your phone rings. "Excuse me for a moment," you say with a smile, answering the call.

"Hey mom, is everything okay?" Wanda hears you ask as you walk away from her.

She looks at the painting, then to you standing on the other side of the room. A smile slid into a crooked grin on her face, and Wanda knew it was fate.

***

Current Winter 2018

You look around the room you entered, some sort of a guest bedroom. You needed a way out.. Right?

Yes, you needed to get out.

You move around the room, looking for some type of makeshift weapon, but find no such thing. Wandas footsteps stop outside the door, you stand still near the neatly made bed.

"I know you're in there, pretty girl.." The door knob wiggles as she tries to open it, finding it locked. Wanda chuckles darkly.

"Dear Shadow," her voice carries through the door, your eyes widen. There was no way she knew the next words.

"You scare me.. You frighten me.."

"Stop it!" You scream, putting your hands over your ears.

"You scare me because I'm afraid I'll never be able to live a normal life. You frighten me because I like being chased.." Wanda quotes the note you left, the one you thought was locked away in a box underneath a pile of clothes in your closet. The door handle wiggles again.

"You make me feel something, something I know isn't right. I won't play your game.." She finishes talking. And you feel your hands shaking.

"H-How did you get that note?" You ask, fists balled up at your sides. You think back to a session where Wanda even asked you about the note. A note she apparently had, for how long you weren't sure.

"Do you really think I've only been inside of your house the once? You're smarter than that little mouse."

Your stomach dropped again, a sick feeling in your gut at the realization of her words. Wanda had been more a part of your life than you had even realized.

***

Late Summer 2016

Wanda watches from across the street, hidden in the shadows as you unpack boxes in your new home. It had been two months since your mother's funeral, 4 months since she began watching you. She dropped the cigarette she was smoking onto the ground, kicking it out with her foot. She watches as a red-headed woman helps you hang up a painting on the wall. Wanda smiles. It was almost time to begin the game.

***

Fall 2016

"Natasha? Hey!" Wanda says with a perfect smile, a hand runs through her hair.

"Oh my god, hey! We just keep running into each other." Natasha smiles warmly.

Happenstance, right ... Wanda thinks to herself as the red head reaches out her hand. She shakes Natashas' hand with a friendly grip.

"I know it's so crazy! Hey, do you want to grab a coffee sometime? Might as well if we're going to keep seeing each other around," Wanda laughs and looks around the grocery store she's never shopped at before.

"That would be so great, I know a great cafe just down the block.."

***

Winter 2016

Wanda stands outside in the shadows. The same red wine is poured into a glass as you stir a pot on the stove. She watches as you look through the window, squinting your eyes. You shake your head and gulp the rest of the wine down, not knowing you were staring right at her.

A vibrate from her pocket pulls her attention, and she looks at the text she received:

Natasha- Hey Wanda! Throwing a Christmas party next Saturday. You in?

Wanda- I'll be there.

You saw in the corner of the room a woman, standing alone. Her eyes watch over the room as she sips out of a red solo cup. She looks.. familiar, you can't quite place it. With the confidence of Rum on your tongue, you walk over to the angelic looking woman. She has a crooked smile on her face as you approach her.

"Wanda," she says after you introduce yourself. It wasn't long after that you were screaming the name for hours in your bedroom.

***

Current Winter 2018

"Now open the door, darling.." Wanda says. You hear 4 taps on the door, not from her hand. You can only assume it was by the knife you saw her unsheathe downstairs.

"And then what? What's the endgame, Wanda?" You ignore her command, standing in front of the door as you question her. She's silent for a while, so quiet you began to wonder if she had disappeared.

"Tell me you don't like the chase. Tell me you hate the way I make you feel. Tell me you want me to stop," she speaks calmly, voice unwavering. You can practically hear the smile on her face as she says, "Tell me all of those things, pretty girl. And if you say it, if you mean it.. I will leave you alone. You can go back to your regular, boring life. The same routine every day. No one chasing after you, pushing you forward. No more shadows."

You swallow hard at her words, mouth open to speak, but no words come out. Wanda will leave you alone, just tell her you're done. Back to reality. Back to...

Wanda stands outside the door, waiting for too long. She reaches into her pocket and takes out a key, unlocking the door. When she opens it all the way, she feels a cool air blowing strands of her hair back. Wanda looks around once. You were nowhere to be found. She laughs and shakes her head, walking to the open window where the breeze flows into the room. Snow floating in gently.

You couldn't say those words to her and mean it. Wanda had run into your life and caused chaos, but you wouldn't be truthful if you said it was already fucked up. With Wanda you felt alive. You felt important. You couldn't live without the dangerous chase.

With windswept hair and an exhilarated look on your face, you dash through a pristine blanket of snow, your bare feet leaving delicate imprints behind you. With each step, a mix of excitement and trepidation dances across your features, your heart racing with the thrill of the moment. The feeling of the snow sticking to your hair and the flakes underneath you heightens the sense of vulnerability and adrenaline coursing through your veins.

It didn't take long for you to hear the familiar pace of Wandas stride coming from behind you.

You make for the trees.

***

Summer 2017

Wanda unscrews another bolt, wiping the sweat that dripped down to her brow. She stands from the AC unit on the side of your house, the mechanical noise coming to a halt. The birds in the trees above her chirped loudly, signaling the sun rising from a distance. She walks away, with each step assuring her imminent return.

****

Current Winter 2018

You find solace behind a tree. Gasping for air, your chest heaving with each breath. As you glance around, all you see are dark trees speckled white with snow. The treetops covered the forest that stood behind Wandas house, the sun peaking through its leaves and branches to light a golden path on the mossy ground.

A branch breaks from behind you. Your hands move to cover your mouth as you hear the steps of your shadow.

****

Summer 2017

"Such a pretty little mouse..."

Wanda sat on top of you, relishing in how easy it was to sneak in. How your body barely fought her off.

"Leave me alone!" You whimper, shaking your head to remove her hand off of your lip.

"Why? We've only just begun pretty girl," her voice makes your chest tighten. You watch with careful eyes as she reaches behind her back, pulling out a gun.

Wanda slides the barrel against your cheek, watching the fear in your eyes. The gun slides down your rapidly moving chest...

And then she sets it down on the floor beside your head.

"You can use it any time you like.. but I know you won't, little mouse," she husks down at you. "You want me here.. you like the idea of a shadow watching over you every day. The feeling I can just walk in at any time.." Wanda chuckles darkly.

Before you can say anything or wonder where her hands are going, you feel a sharp needle prick your neck. You immediately feel your eyes become heavy, your vision blurring as your shadow removes her mask. Features blurry enough that you can't make her out.

"Sweet dreams, Y/N.."

You awake the next morning on the couch with a start, gasping as you look around the room with wide eyes. The pounding in your head and the nauseous feeling in your stomach convinced you that you must have had too much to drink. It was just a bad dream.

But then your eyes catch sight, on the coffee table in front of you, a small black gun.

One that you would wave down the street looking for your shadow, screaming to no one that if they didn't come out, you would kill yourself.

One that you would lie to the police about, saying you bought it off a junkie at the docks to protect your shadow.

The shadow was yours, after all, to deal with.

****

Current Winter 2018

As you stand still like prey avoiding your predator, you hear a subtle sound of a bell ringing. A bell you knew to be followed by a blow of a deep horn as a boat leaves the dock. You wait a second... two... three...

A deep horn sounds from in the direction straight ahead of you.

Excitement sparks in your chest as you mentally prepare yourself to do what you do best, run.

You don't look back once, but you know Wanda is following. Your ears twitch as you hear her pace quicken behind you, branches and twigs snapping around the two of you as you make for the dock. The trees begin to clear, and you spot the water, a dock spanning so far you can't see the end of it, along the shore. You run towards a wooden boathouse attached to the dock that didn't look too far, hoping you could make it before Wanda emerges from the trees.

You sit low on the ground of the wood surface, and water splashes below you. A small boat floated inside, covered with a tarp, along with random tables and boxes filled with fishing supplies. As you look out the window, you see Wanda at the edge of the woods, her eyes searching the many places you could be. You duck down, not willing to risk being spotted.

***

Late Summer 2017

"I really fucked up, Wanda.." Pietro sighs into the phone.

Wanda shakes her head, watching from afar as you pace the living room.

"Shit, Pietro," she sighs loudly and walks away, around the corner. "I'll book a flight in the morning."

****

Spring 2018

"I'm so happy you're back.." Natasha smiles at her friend, sipping the coffee she held in her hands, the smiling not quite reaching her eyes.

"What's wrong, Nat?" Wanda says, resting her hand on top of Natasha.

"It's my friend, Y/N. I've told you about her," she says, Wanda nods thoughtfully. "She really needs some help, I just don't know what to do.."

Wanda reaches in her pocket and takes a business card out, sliding it across the table. "Give her this. I know a lot of people that could help her, but I also know you really care about her... I could take care of her. She would be brand new by the time we finished our Sessions."

Natasha takes the card wearily. "I don't know if I can just suggest this right now to her.. I'll think about it. Wait a little bit, and see if she gets better on her own." She smiles at Wanda gratefully.

"Of course.. maybe she'll get better," Wanda says, smiling at the thought of her spot in the shadows just outside your house.

****

Current Winter 2018

"Little mouse.." Her voice sounds from outside the window. You move quietly and quickly underneath a table that is in the corner covered by a tarp.

Wanda steps inside, the floor creaking underneath her weight, the door shutting with a snap. You listen to her footsteps as she walks around the small boathouse, rustling around in boxes. Your fingers twitch, absendmidetly tapping your leg 4 times.

Your shadow loomed over you.

It was quick, the pulling of the tarp, the exasperated scream as Wanda grabbed you from the back of your neck, pressing the blade to the front of your throat. She pulls you close to her, knowing you were going nowhere in her strong grip. The knife she held to your neck presses harder, drawing the smallest bit of blood as you attempt to scratch at her arms.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk..." Wanda sighs into your ear, pressing her lips to the sensitive skin just below. "Looks like I've caught you, pretty girl. What now, hm?" She chuckles darkly and continues to kiss your neck.

The ache between your legs grows as she presses her hips into you, feeling the strap beneath her jeans. "I told you if you ran, I would punish you.." Wanda removes one hand, keeping the knife to your throat. You don't have time to wonder before you hear the sound of her unbuckling her belt.

Cool metal is replaced with warm leather as she ties the belt around your neck, pushing you down roughly face first onto the table in front of you. "Wanda.." You whimper out. She tugs on the end of the belt, your whimpering cut short by lack of air. With the sharp blade, she cuts the shirt that clung to your body right down the middle, exposing your back.

"I told you, Y/N. I warned you what would happen when I found you." Her free hand slides down the shorts you wore. You blush, knowing she was about to find out how wet you were for her. Wanda frees the strap from her pants, sliding the tip along your ass. Your hips move back towards her as she teases you, causing Wanda to smirk.

She knew how badly you wanted her. Wanda would show you, over time, how you belonged to her and only her. And that she, belonged to you, only you.

She slides in easily, wasting no time in fucking herself into you. The table moves with every thrust, scratching the wooden dock below. Wanda holds in one strong grip, the belt, the other one holding your hip to meet hers. The knife had dropped to the ground. You both knew it wasn't needed.

"Fuck pretty girl, I'm going to fuck you every chance I get.." She moans loudly, pulling the belt. Your hands grip onto the leather as she pounds into you mercilessly, moaning at the thought of her having her way with you whenever she felt like it. Her powerful thrust sending shocks into your body. A hard smack across your ass makes you yelp. You feel a singing sensation. Another. More stinging. And another. Surely a bruise.

"Tell me, Y/N.." Wanda grunts in between thrusts. You knew what she wanted to hear. You had no problem telling her the truth.

"I need you!" You rasp out, her grip on the belt loosens.

"That's right, baby. I won't let you forget it," she pulls the belt to pull you up, your back flush against her. Wanda kisses your cheek, surprisingly softly. "Fuck you feel so good." Wanda groans, her breathing becoming ragged. She gropes your breasts as the cut shirt slips off of your body, pinching your nipples hard between her fingers.

The pleasure was overstimulating, your body still sore and tired from the night before. You feel your legs tremble under your weight, but Wanda easily holds you up.

"Are you gonna cum, little mouse? Hm?" Wanda groans against your skin, you nod quickly. "You better beg for it then.." She chuckles, making you whine.

"Wanda.." Your word barely comes out, unable to think and physically trapped by the belt. "Baby.." You try, feeling her body tense behind you.

"Please let me cum, please I'm begging you!"

"I need you to let me cum!"

"Baby please!"

"Cum for me, pretty girl.." She finally gives in.

Before you know it, you were coming, your orgasm crashing over your body in sync with the waves crashing below. Wanda continues to fuck you through your orgasm, letting herself enjoy the sight of you falling apart in her arms.

You hear her moan loudly, thrusts slowing as she releases with you. Wanda holds onto you tightly, the grip on her belt gone as you stand breathing heavily, your hearts beating together as you catch your breath. She gives you a minute before sliding out of you carefully and sitting you on the table.

You can barely sit up, freezing, and now even more sore than you already were. You watch with half lidded eyes as Wanda does her pants up, buckling her belt. She takes the knife and puts it behind her before taking off her hoodie. You could see a red shirt on her.

The hoodie is warm and smells like her as she slides it over your head, putting your arms in the holes. She pulls up the shorts and puts the hood over your head, tucking your hair behind your ears. You close your eyes as she lifts you up bridal style, carrying you out of the wooden structure.

You remember resting your head against her neck, thinking you had never felt softer skin before. You remember the warm sun shining through the trees as she carried you through the woods to her house. You remember the sound of hot water running. The feeling of her hands scrubbing your body clean. The sound of a match flicking. The smell of Wanda as warm clothes were put on your body.

Wanda slides in front of you in the bed, holding you tightly in her embrace. You grab onto her. She pulls the blanket over you both. 4 kisses on your head. The feeling of sleep taking over. The thought that nothing was going to be the same.

Your shadow whispering in your ear,

"Sweet dreams, little mouse.."

[bahrtofane]

Promises under the stars - Jude ending

Part 1

Part 1 - Jude pov

Part 2

Long awaited happy ending I TOLD U I WOULD DO IT SEE. pretty plz read part 2 before this i’m begging plz plzlplzpzlzpzlzpzl

—

Word count - 2.2k+

Watch it - MORE DIVORCE WOWOW. Carlos is so mean in this one sorreh.

Guys this feels like the end of an era like I’m so sad to see it end this was a JOURNEY

——-

Things change. As most things do, life moves on.

Jude remains in the back of your mind. After years of working away from the laughs that taunt you in the wind.

It comes back to him.

Your husband takes a back seat and Jude once again becomes the man who’s at the forefront of your mind.

While you’re pregnant with Carlos’s baby you thumb through pictures of Jude. Funny isn’t it. So funny you want to rip your own hair out.

You don’t know if it’s your own behavior that sparks a change but there’s a shift.

After the second altercation with Jude, things change. Carlos does less talking and more observing. He asks you to share your location at all times and you have no qualms. Not at first.

But it begins to get to much.

Where are you going, who are you with. What are you doing. Come home. Do you have to go out. No don’t go. Don’t do this. Don’t do that.

You half think it’s because of the baby and he’s simply worried for the both of you. It’s his fatherly nature kicking in.

But there’s a breaking point and it comes when you come home on a Sunday night.

——

“Hey baby.” You smile, setting down your little shopping spree for the baby. Just a few essentials. Blankets and bottles.

He doesn’t return your greeting. Head down in silence while he stares at the wall.

“Where were you?”

You frown, “not this again-“

“No. You keep going off to places without letting me know first I thought we talked about this.” he hisses.

You lean against the counter. ”I stopped to get a little snack?”

He shrugs. “You could have waited till you got home.”

You scoff. ”i'm pregnant Carlos, most things can't wait. You know how it is.”

”I don’t even know who you are anymore.” He mumbles.

“What did you say?”

He stands, facing you with brows furrowed. “Ever since Jude you keep running off. Are you seeing him?”

”Are you crazy?”

”i dont know look at how you’re acting. I’ve given you everything, and you keep sneaking off.”

”Im pregnant with your child for fucks sake and you think im with another man?”

”I’m not sure if its even my child anymore. Funny how he turned up again when you started to show.”

Your skin bristles. ”I’m going to give you a chance to take it back Carlos or else.”

”or what? You’ll go back to him? Maybe I should go and knock someone else up so you can know what it feels like.” his voice raises to a yell.

That’s just the thing isn’t it. Yo already know what it feels like. You watched it happen with Jude and now he accuses you of the very thing that almost drove you mad.

Tears burn in your eyes. You don't stick around for any more, taking your keys and walking to the door.

“Don’t you dare leave. You leave and you won’t see me ever again do you hear me. “ he screams, finger pointed at you.

You look back for a moment. Gone is the Carlos you love and replaced with this beast that hurls insults and accusations. You walk out, driving away to anywhere, anywhere at all as long as its away from him.

Your second heart break comes from Jude just like the first. Only this time indirectly and crumbles a marriage you once treasured more than anything.

You can't face his family. Certainly not his mother. Not after this.

——-

You go back to your families home. Back in your home town.

It shocks them, how you turn up at their door. You drove the whole way back, just like you did leaving.

Your mother cries for you and you don't have the heart to explain your end in full.

You’re due in about 3 months. And your days and filled with sorrow. You try you best. You know it’s not good for the baby. It’s a girl you find out. Carlos always wanted a girl. You try you really do but things are near impossible on your own.

You get a call from his mother, appolgizes tumbling from her tongue. Pleading with you for forgiveness. She tells you there’s always a spot for you in her home. If you’d like you can move in. They’ll take care of you here.

You thank her between sniffles but you say you don’t know. You just need time.

You’re nearing a breaking point yourself.

——-

Time is running out for you to make sense of things.

You miss Carlos, or well you miss the Carlos you once loved. The man who bought you a home just because he could and he listened to you.

The man who was so sure of loving you.

The only thing he seems sure of is pretending you don’t exist.

Maybe if you would have just taken Jude back when he first came to you

——-

Jude hears. Or course he does.

He promised himself to stop meddling in your life. To stop keeping up with you and just leave you alone. But when news reaches him. A piece of him breaks.

It’s his fault isn’t it. You had a home. A life. A marriage, a husband and very soon a little family.

There he goes again, ruining it.

He finds your contact info and it lays in his phone, u able to bring himself to press call. What buisness does he have in your life anymore truly.

What more can he do, say, feel?

The fields have long burned, only ash and ember in their wake. And still he recognizes them in a heartbeat. He knows you will too. For he knows you.

How can he apologize in a language you’ll understand?

——

You get a call from an unknown number while you leave another appointment. Same old same old, try to relax stress isn’t good for the baby blah blah blah. If you could relax you would but it isn’t that easy isn’t it.

You pick up before looking properly and a familiar voice comes to life. Jude.

He can’t stay away it seems. He can’t leave you on your own.

“I heard what happened. I’m so sorry. If I knew i would have never-“

”its okay Jude.” You sigh. ”its not your fault. He just- changed and it scared me so bad.”

His voice hasn’t changed all that much, just a tad deeper.

You don’t blame him. You’ve forgiven him for everything. There’s a million ways Carlos could have handled things and he chose to blame you for it all. Choose the path of accusation. That is no one’s fault but his own.

“Do you need help?” Timid. Hesitant.

You pause. What else do you have to loose. The very least you need to figure something out for your baby.

You don’t have friends close enough to call up. Not even friends when you think about it. Acquaintances at best.

You consider taking up Carlos’s mother on the offer. Your baby would be well taken care of. Brought up in luxury and comfort. Nothing would ever be more than a stone's throw away.

But you run the risk of seeing him again. And you know if he were to find out it would create a whole other problem.

Your savings will cover 2 years max if you really stretch them out. And you know your parents cant keep you under their roof forever. You do need help. But you don’t know how to ask. How to accept.

He picks up on your silence. “No string attached I promise I just-“ he takes a deep breath, “- I can't do nothing. Not when you’re going through everything that you are. “

”Thank you Jude.” You sniffle. Tears forming in your eyes while you look into the sky.

——-

Jude sends movers to help you move your things into an apartment by the end of the week. All you have to do is get into your car and follow. You need to do something about the car. Its technically under your name. The one he got you as a gift.

You feel so out of lace in it. Maybe you’ll sell it. If not for the money to erase any traces of him for good.

Jude visits you the following week.

He’s grown. Oh how hes grown. A man now. He gives you the spare keys with a small smile. No red ribbon.

“Its set for a years rent and all. No need to worry. I figured you’d want to stay near your family so.”

You give him a hug, unable to stop yourself. Even if your belly makes it awkward he wraps his arms around you. He’s smiling.

“I cant thank you enough.” You’re crying again. Tears pooling in your eyes.

He helps you sit down on the couch, giving you his arm to steady yourself on. “Hey hey. It’s alright. I got you. No need to thank me.”

”why did you come?” you mumble. Hand still on his.

“I think you know the answer to that.” He picks at his pants.

”After all this time you still do?” You still love me?

“I never stoped. I told you as much.”

You nod. “Thank you again anyway.”

”Call me if you need anything. There's a chauffeur I use when I’m in the area. I'll give you his info too. Whatever you go give him a call. Or if you need any shopping done he’ll take care of it.”

”Are you sure?”

He smiles, “more than sure. Go rest now you’ve had a long week.”

———

You only hear from Carlos when he sends the divorce papers. You dont think twice. Signing them and sending them off to his lawyers.

His only request is to see his baby. You refuse at first but his lawyers are firm. So you come to an agreement one weekend at the end of every month. Starting when you recover.

You end up keeping the car.

You want nothing else from him. Just to never see him again. You can’t accept any apology after the way he disrespected you.

You mean it. More than you meant it with Jude.

——

Jude ends up coming to appointments when hes in town. You don’t know how it happens. But he goes. Holding your hand and letting you lean on him every step of the way. You never say no. In a way you need him. In many ways you do.

It’s familiar. Being with Jude. You slip back into old habits and he never corrects you. Just gives you a tight smile.

Every break he spends with you and within an instant the baby comes. Carlos is not allowed anywhere near you. You name her after your favorite flower and give her your last name.

She’s your whole world. You can barely hold back your sobs when they hand her over to you.

Jude drives you home from the hospital and skips pre season training to be with you.

He helps you with her and for a moment it's like this is the ending you always dreamed of. A glimpse of what could have been. If you only ignore that it’s Carlos’s child, you are not with Jude and you’re closer to his pity case than his lover. But you can dream.

——

“She’s crying again.” Jude mumbles, woken up from her cries.

He’s been sleeping on the couch. To make it easier for the both of you.

You groan, picking her up gently and trying to get her back to sleep. Nothing works her cries only get louder and you are on your last straw.

“Jude can you come here.”

He pads to your room, opening the door meekly as you stand with her in your arms. “Can you hold her while I make her bottle please.”

He nods, opening his arms while you gently set her in his arms. She fits in his embrace like she was made for it.

You come back with a bottle to your baby softly sleeping agaisnt his chest. Little cheeks snug agaisnt him while she breaths softly.

You mouth a silent thank you and let him out her back inside her crib. Tucking her under her blanket and giving her a little pat to the head.

You could get used to this.

——

You fall for Jude once more. As your little girl turns one you find a rhythm with him. She even calls him dad. You never correct her. There’s no need. He does all a father would and more.

Carlos drops from her life before she can even walk. You don’t care.

You make the trip to Spain yearly so she can meet her grandparents at the very least. This isn’t their fault. You hold nothing against them. His mother blames herself for her sons actions and you know nothing you say will change it.

Jude retires before he can turn 35. And you marry. Nothing outlandish. Just you and him and your baby at the court house.

You get ice cream on the way home and watch her favorite movies till she falls asleep.

“We made it back to each other in the end. “ He kisses your lips. Soft. Gentle.

You hum, pressing yourself closer against him. “Always you and me.”

The promises you made under the stars have found you after all. In your own home with your baby you love more than anything. Raising her and walking through life hand in hand. Even after everything, you don’t think anyone else would come back for you. Fight for you the way Jude has.

Your peace has come.

[mechaknight-98]

Gathering: Collected Company

Authors note: Knock knock bitch! burnout is gone and I finally returned to my first series and no one is safe. @existslikepristin

"Oppa, carry me. I'm tired," Chaewon pleaded, her voice a mix of exhaustion and playfulness. Percival turned to his girlfriend with a knowing smile.

"Ah, but you have two perfectly functional legs," he teased, fully aware he'd give in to her request anyway. He enjoyed the little game they played, her earning his favor with just a touch of effort.

Chaewon pouted, halting their progress with a dramatic slump. "But OPPA, I've been performing all week. I'm utterly exhausted. Can't you please give me a lift?" she implored, weariness evident in her posture.

"Alright, hop on, Chae," Percival relented, unable to resist her puppy-dog eyes. Chaewon's face lit up as she eagerly climbed onto his back, her fatigue momentarily forgotten as he carried her into the Card Shop.

"Hey, Percy!" the cashier greeted them warmly. "Here to pick up your order?" they asked, oblivious to Percival's concealed discomfort. As the cashier fetched their items, Chaewon's eyes landed on her new commander, Loot, Key to the universe, and her excitement was palpable.

Sensing her gaze, Percival turned to her with a smile. "Excited?" he inquired, noting the spark in her eyes. Chaewon nodded enthusiastically. After settling the bill, they found a nearby table to sleeve their new cards and decks.

Percival observed Chaewon's focused demeanor with admiration and affection, finishing his task before her due to years of practice. When she finally looked up, he couldn't help but smile at her.

"What?" she asked, curious at his expression.

"Just admiring my beautiful girlfriend," Percival replied, his affectionate tone not lost on her. Though she rolled her eyes at his sappiness, deep down, she cherished his displays of affection, finding solace in his care.

"Wanna get a quick game in?" Chaewon proposed eagerly.

"Chae, you know we're supposed to wait," Percival reminded her sternly, though he knew she could easily sway him.

Pouting cutely, Chaewon persisted, "I know, but I just want to see how well you pilot this new deck."

"As much as I'd love to dive into games with this commander, our friends might not appreciate it," Percival reasoned.

"Come on, just one quick match. Everyone else got to practice," Chaewon insisted, pulling out her phone to show him proof.

"Those sneaky ones," Percival grumbled, feeling annoyance.

"Yeah, now you know. Let's play," Chaewon said with a grin, and Percival couldn't resist her enthusiasm, setting up his deck to her delight.

The tension between them heightened as they faced each other across their playmats. Chaewon's smile widened as she glanced at the custom playmat featuring her own likeness, a thoughtful gift from Percival. Observing his meticulous setup, she marveled at his methodical movements, admiring the way he arranged his mat, deck, and commander. Her heart fluttered with anticipation as Percival graciously allowed her to take the first turn.

With a confident demeanor, Chaewon laid down an Island and cast Mystic Remora, initiating her strategy. Meanwhile, Percival swiftly established his own board presence, starting with Command Tower, followed by Sol Ring, and culminating in the summoning of Tinybones, the Pickpocket. As she drew three cards from the trade-off, Chaewon couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement, even if she didn't fully grasp the intricacies of the exchange. Undeterred, she continued her turn by playing another land and attempting to cast Three Visits, leveraging her resources to their fullest potential.

Percival acknowledged her play with a thumbs-up, his own strategy unfolding smoothly as he summoned his commander and led an offensive with Tinybones. Chaewon, bracing herself, took the hit and begrudgingly exiled the top two cards of her library, knowing they might come back to haunt her in Percival's hands. With a calculating gaze, he stored the exiled cards beneath his commander, his mind already racing through potential plays.

Glancing at Chaewon, then at his hand of cards, Percival knew he had a decision to make. While he understood the correct path to victory, he also recognized Chaewon was not ready for the following turns. Chaewon's growth was undeniable though and her request to remove the metaphorical training wheels during their matches. With a newfound determination, Percival focused on navigating the game, his senses sharpened as he observed Chaewon's next moves. As she played another land and cast Nature's Lore, fetching an OG Dual Tropical Island, Percival couldn't help but be pleasantly surprised. It was the first time Chaewon had demonstrated the strategy of fetching dual lands, a sign of her evolving understanding of the game. This realization emboldened Percival to raise the stakes, ready to test Chaewon's skills further.

"Ah, that's new," Percival remarked, acknowledging Chaewon's innovative play.

"You like it, Civy? I figured it out a few days ago since Tropical Island is both a forest and an Island," Chaewon explained proudly, her confidence evident.

Before they could delve deeper into their match, they were interrupted by the arrival of Yunjin and the rest of their friends (including me), who questioned why they were starting without them. Chaewon swiftly countered, pointing out that they had all begun practicing before receiving their decks. As everyone settled down, they took a moment to assess the state of the game.

"I see you were about to run her over," I commented to Percival, noting the disparity between their board states.

"No, he wasn't," Chaewon retorted, defending her position.

"Hey, Percival, mind showing us your hand since we're starting a new game?" I requested, eager to see the contents of his deck. With a nonchalant gesture, Percival revealed two win conditions and counterspells, while also flipping over Chaewon's cards to reveal a Rhystic Study and an Underworld Breach. Chaewon's eyes widened in realization as Percival simply shrugged.

"Oh yeah, that game was pretty much over," Eunchae chimed in teasingly, her words stoking Chaewon's frustration.

"Yah" Growling in response, Chaewon watched as Percival rose from his seat, taking a moment to stretch before returning. "Game two?" he proposed, unfazed by the previous interruption.

"You mean game one," Yujin corrected, irritation evident in her tone. Percival rolled his eyes. As they all prepared for the next round, anticipation hung in the air, each player eager to prove themselves in this new iteration of the game.

"Hey Civy Oppa, can I sit next to you?" Kazuha's voice broke through the pre-game chatter, drawing Civy's attention. With a thumbs-up, he welcomed her to his side. Watching their interaction was always intriguing to me. Despite Civy's reserved nature, he seemed to open up more around Kazuha and Chaewon.

It wasn't lost on me that Civy, much like myself, was guarded about sharing personal information. Yet, he appeared more at ease with Kazuha, perhaps because of their shared quirks and tendencies. Despite his flamboyant demeanor, Civy maintained a calculated distance, revealing only the bare minimum about himself. It was a curious contrast, especially considering his ostentatious presentation would suggest otherwise. Beyond the surface, all we knew was that he had a family consisting of a dad, a mom, and two sisters. Chaewon might have been privy to more, but she kept it under wraps, leaving me with a lingering sense of curiosity.

"Question before we begin. Can we do a two-headed dragon game? I don't want this game to last 3.5 hours," Civy interjected, addressing the group with a reasonable request. We all agreed, pairing off as usual: Connor with Yunjin, Dexter with Eunbi, Sakura with Siyeon, Chaewon with Civy, and Yujin with myself.

"Are you two together again?" Civy inquired, noticing the proximity between Yujin and me. We both nodded, accustomed to Civy's silent approval before he proceeded to shuffle his deck.

"So, what does this deck do, Oppa?" Kazuha inquired politely, leaning in closer to Percival with genuine curiosity.

"Well, Zuha, this deck capitalizes on the combat damage dealt by my creatures to gather insights and resources from our opponents' decks. I aim to either secure victory later using those acquired cards or force our opponents into a stall," Percival explained, his tone animated with enthusiasm. "Plus, the artwork is super cool," he added, gesturing towards the vibrant illustrations adorning the cards. Kazuha nodded appreciatively, while Chaewon watched pleased to see this side of Percival opening up to the group.

However, after Sakura sternly scolded Percival about his interactions with other members, he noticeably withdrew. Though we all noticed the shift, we understood it would take time for him to regain his comfort level.

"Okay," Kazuha replied, observing as Percival set up his deck.

"Last question, everyone. Are we going hardcore or taking it easy?" Percival inquired, seeking input from the group.

"Hardcore. I'm eager to fine-tune Narset," Connor declared confidently, though met with disapproving glances from the rest of us. He relented with a sigh.

"Hey, Oppa, can I give it a try?" Kazuha asked, prompting knowing laughter from Cival and Chaewon.

"Why are you closing up? I wanted to play," Kazuha expressed confusion as Chaewon groaned, eventually handing over $45-50 to Percival.

"Oh, I just wanted you to experience the deck we got for you," Percival revealed, presenting a blue and white deck box to Kazuha. Opening it, she revealed Dr. Madison Li, eliciting surprise from the rest of us, except for Chaewon, who grumbled about losing the bet. Percival goes to sit outside of our little circle and begins gold fishing his deck

"Hey unnie so how do we decide who goes first," Kazuha asks shyly.

"Usually we roll dice but you can go first. RIGHT GUYS," Chaewon says to the rest of us and we agree.

Kazuha sets herself up comfortably and begins. we all look at starting hands and Kazuha asks Percival, "Hey Oppa What does 0 mean in the mana cost."

Percival sits up and says "Oh dear!"

"Can you believe Civy gave Zuha all those powerful cards in her first deck?" Yunjin questioned Connor as they headed back to his place

"Yes Percival is crazy but that's not what I want to think about," Connor replied finally happy to have some alone time between him and Yunjin.

"So what do you want to talk about," Yunjin asked her voice taking on a deeper and more sultry tone.

"Oh the amazing dinner I am going to prepare for you," Connor replied. Yunjin smiled as they entered the apartment. As they arrived at Connor's place, the atmosphere shifted subtly, charged with anticipation and desire. Connor led Yunjin inside, their hands brushing against each other as they moved through the familiar space. With a shared glance, they both knew that the evening held the promise of intimacy and connection.

In the kitchen, Connor began to gather ingredients for their dinner, his movements deliberate yet infused with a sense of eagerness. Yunjin watched him with admiration, appreciating his culinary skills and the effort he was putting into their evening together.

As Connor started to prepare the meal, Yunjin moved closer, her presence a warm and comforting presence in the kitchen. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, interspersed with laughter and affectionate glances.

As the aroma of the cooking food filled the air, their shared anticipation grew, each moment imbued with a sense of intimacy and connection. And as they sat down to enjoy the delicious meal together, their hearts were full, knowing that they were exactly where they were meant to be.

After dinner, Connor and Yunjin both got calls on their phone

"Come on Pick Up. Come on Pick up." Percival fretted as Chaewon mirrored his call and fretted with hers directed to Yunjin.

Thankfully Connor picks up,

"Oh thank God you two are safe. We have a situation." Percival says worried.

[mingoooossii]

Love.

Yunho x reader

Synopsis: so reader gets shit from work and stuff happens and they make up.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, insecurities, fear of abandonment(?),self-hatred(kind of). fluff at the end and some kisses. Might be a Lil awkward since I can't do emotions. Also it's long, idk how many words but it's long. Typos maybe?

"Babe!"

The soft glow of the television flickered across the room as Yunho entered.

"Have you seen my hoodie? The grey on-"

But his question died in his throat as his gaze landed on his partner.

You sat huddled on the couch, the phone pressed tightly to your ear, brow furrowed in a picture of distress. Yunho's smile faded, concern gnawing at him.

He stepped closer, his voice soft. "Everything okay?"

You flinched at the sound of his voice, quickly ending the call. You took a deep breath, trying to mask your distress with a weak smile. "Yeah, just work stuff." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

Yunho wasn't convinced. He knew you better than that. Your "work stuff" rarely left you this visibly shaken. He sat beside you his hand hovering over yours, offering silent support.

"What happened?" He asked, his voice laced with concern.

You hesitated, then sighed, your shoulders slumping in defeat. "They called," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "About the project."

Yunho's stomach clenched. He remembered how much time and effort you had poured into your current project, how excited you were about it. His mind raced with possibilities, none of them pleasant.

"It's gone." you said, voice cracking. "Deleted. Apparently, a system glitch. And now I how to redo it in 3 days."

Anger sparked within Yunho. "That's ridiculous! It's not your fault, and expecting you to pull that off in that time…"

His words were cut short by a sharp look from you. "Don't." you snapped, your voice thick with unshed tears. "You wouldn't understand."

Yunho recoiled, his heart sinking. "What do you mean I wouldn't understand?" His tone softened, replaced by confusion.

Tears streamed down your face. "You're good at everything, Yunho." you whispered, voice laced with self-hatred. "You're talented, it's all natural to you. I'm not like that i..." You paused, wiping your tears away desperately.

"I'm not talented like you and... this is the one thing that I'm good at and...if I can't even do that, then what good am i?" You sobbed, wiping your face, frustrated at the non-stopping tears, breaking his heart further.

Your words hit him like a physical blow. He had never realized how you perceived him, or how it made you feel. The truth was, he admired your dedication, your resilience, the sheer amount of effort you poured into everything you did.

"That's not true..." Yunho started, a hint of desperation as he reached out to you. "You're wrong. You're much more than you think you-"

"I don't need you to appease me." You cut him off with a bitter tone, picking up your laptop. "Yunho, leave me alone." You looked away from him, reserving yourself to the office room. He watched as the door shut close with a sickening thud, resonating with his heartbeat.

Three days crawled by, each tick of the clock echoing the growing distance between them. You were a whirlwind of activity, fueled by adrenaline and exhaustion. Your eyes, once bright with passion, were now shadowed with determination, bordering on desperation. Meals were quick, silent affairs, your focus solely on the screen illuminating you.

The frustration gnawed at him, but he knew pushing wouldn't help. This was your battle, and you had to fight it your way. Instead, he chose to show his support in quieter ways.

He stocked the fridge with your favorite snacks, left a fresh mug of tea outside your door, and even attempted to fold a few stray shirts (with predictably disastrous results).

He knew deep down that you weren't shutting him out, you were shutting yourself in. All he could do was be the ground beneath your feet, a constant presence even when you couldn't see him.

'i did it...i actually did it!' Three days. After 72 excruciatingly long hours, you finally did it. You finally pushed back from your desk, your eyes stinging from exhaustion but a flicker of triumph lighting them. The project was done.

But the elation was short-lived, choked by the hollowness that echoed within you. Guilt, suffocating and heavy, settled on your chest. The memory of your cold words, the slammed doors, the silent treatment you had inflicted on him all came rushing back. Shame burned your cheeks. In your single-minded pursuit of finishing the project, you had pushed away the very person who loved and supported you the most.

With trembling legs, you walked towards the living room, your voice thick with fear and regret. "Yunho?" You called out, voice barely a whisper. Silence. You tried again, louder this time, voice laced with desperation. Still nothing.

He usually came back from the company at this time except for...today.

Then he left...you?

Panic clawed at your throat at the thought. Tears streamed down your face, carving hot tracks on your cold cheeks. You sank to your knees, the weight of your actions crushing your spirit.

'He finally had enough of your selfishness and left you..' Your mind spun, conjuring scenarios, each bleaker than the last. You sobbed into your hands, not noticing the door opening.

Yunho stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him. The grocery shopping took longer than he thought. He hummed a low tune as he walked into the living room, freezing when he spotted you, on the floor.

Panic settled within him at the racking sobs that escaped you. Dropping the bags, he was instantly by your side, cradling you into his arms. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Startled, you whirled around expecting the worst but instead, you found his concerned eyes.

Relief washed over you, a tidal wave threatening to drown you. But before you could speak, Yunho's face crumpled with worry, holding your face gently. "Honey, What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

His concern, so genuine and unwavering, broke the dam of your emotions. You collapsed into his arms, the sobs returning with renewed intensity. All the guilt, the fear, the shame poured out in a torrent of broken words. "I thought you left me..."

"Why would I leave you?" He asked, voice gently but you could see the confusion in his eyes.

''I thought you got sick of me and left." You sobbed, your voice barely a whisper. I'm so sorry for being so selfish and i pushed you away and I-"

Yunho cupped your face, cutting you off by pressing a kiss to your lips. He wiped away your tears with his thumbs. His gaze was soft, filled with love, so much love.

"I was worried sick, Y/n. " he admitted. "But I understand. You were going through so much, and I…" He paused, searching for the right words. "I just wanted to be there for you, but I pushed too hard. I should have listened more."

He held you tighter, his heart clenching at the fear in your embrace. "You must've panicked because I was late."

He pulled back, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there. "I just went grocery shopping to stock up. I should've told you earlier, I'm sorry, love."

You looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of deceit, but all you saw was love and concern. Shame washed over you, hot and prickly. How could you have doubted him like this?

"I'm so sorry." you whispered, voice trembling. "I was awful. I shut you out, and then…my stupid thoughts…"

Yunho shook his head, cradling you close to him, his voice soft. "Don't apologize, it's not your fault. But I'm never letting you go through that again."

Yunho pulled back, gently stroking your hair, his eyes soft as he gazed at you. "But you really thought I was going to leave you? Never, you're stuck with me forever." He said, voice gentle yet firm. "You know how obsessed i am with you."

A choked laugh escaped your lips. "You're impossible." you mumbled, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Yunho grinned, holding you close. "Maybe. But I'm your impossible, and you're mine. That'll never change."

A weak smile adorned your face. "Promise?"you whispered, voice barely a breath.

"Promise!" He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your lips. "And that's a seal! Now..."

He swept you off your feet. "Let's get you something to eat. You haven't eaten properly these days."

As he carried you to the kitchen, the tension that had coiled within you began to unwind. The weight of your insecurities and fears vanishing entirely by the warmth of his presence and the unwavering certainty of his love.

[honey-on-your-tongue]

can you do a jake x reader smut where we have a huge argument and hes js so mad that he js fucks the anger out of the both of us? idk what else to say that js sounds hot as shit

😩😩😩😩😩😩

Sex as a solution to arguments? Yes please.

(irl it's not tho, babes. Keep that in mind 🙃)

-----

He's never back this late. He's never this late. Something must've happened. Something's wrong...

You chew on your nails as you pace your tent, heart racing, your thoughts eating away at you.

Where is he?

This isn't the first time Jake has gone on patrol at night. And it's the first time he's not back when he's supposed to be. But he's over two hours late...what could have possibly happened?

You're aching to hop on your ikran and find him, but you know the rules. You can't go out, you have to wait for him to come back.

It feels like years have passed by the time he finally shows up.

“Jake!” you gasp as he walks into your tent. You look him over, ensuring he's unhurt, finding a few bruises and a few scratches, but nothing major. “What happened?”

He gives you a sheepish look. “I, uh...Tsu'tey and I kinda got caught up 'cause we were chasing these palulukan off, and it sorta led us astray so it took a while to get back.”

You exhale sharply. “Again? You know your job isn't to mess around with the forest creatures, Jake. You're supposed to just keep a lookout for the Sky People.”

He shrugs slightly. “Well, yeah, but it's also fun sometimes.”

You can feel anger spark within you. “Fun?” you echo, crossing your arms. “I've been sitting here worried for the past two hours! And you're out having fun?”

He sighs softly. “I didn't mean to make you worry, I just—”

You scoff, cutting him off. “You never mean to make me worry. You always say so, and yet you keep doing it over and over again!” you snap.

“Hey, I've the right to go out there and have some fun. There's nothing wrong with that,” he replies, raising his voice. His amber eyes flash with frustration, his tail swishing uneasily.

“Maybe you could keep in mind the fact that I'm here waiting for you!” you yell back. “You're so self-centered, only thinking about having fun while I'm here wondering whether you're even fucking alive!”

He sighs. “You think it's intentional? That I leave you here to scare you?”

“I'm not saying that. I'm just saying you could be a little more mindful about me and maybe at least tell me beforehand that you're going to be late because you're going to be messing around with the forest creatures.”

“So now I have to report my every move to you?” he scoffs. “You want me to inform you of everything I fucking do?”

You exclaim, “That's not what I fucking mean and you know it. I'm just saying that it's not fair for you to leave me here, waiting for you without you telling me you might be late.”

“Even if I fucking told you, you'd make a big deal about it,” he snaps. “If I'm back late, you're upset. If I got distracted during patrol, you get upset. And apparently, if I don't tell you everything I'm going to do, you get upset.”

You exhale sharply. “You make it sound like I'm controlling you when you damn well know I'm worried for you.”

“Maybe you shouldn't worry. I think I'm old enough to take care of myself.”

“I'm just trying to help you!” you yell.

“Maybe you're only a burden instead of help!” he yells back.

You laugh bitterly. “That's it, then. You don't need me for anything else than to cook and have dinner waiting when you come home.” You sneer, but tears of anger and pain are welling in your eyes. “I see how it is, then.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Don't you dare get that way with me, you know you're more than that.”

“How should I fucking believe you?” you yell. “All you have to show for how you feel are your empty words!”

“Just my empty words?” he scoffs. “I'm making sure this village is safe—that you're safe, and you complain?”

“Complain?!” you snap. “I'm worrying about you and you're being the ungrateful ass that you are!”

“I am not ungrateful, I just don't understand why you're so upset about this! It's my life, I don't have to keep you updated about everything, you know. I can take care of myself.”

You throw him a deadly glare. “I guess you'll always be human in that way, then. Because us Na'vi actually take care of one another.”

And that's it. The final straw for him. He loses it, anger flashing in his eyes as he grabs you by the throat and pulls you to him, roughly pressing his lips to yours.

“You—!” you exclaim, pushing him off you. He doesn't get to treat you that way and kiss it all away.

But he's stronger than you. He grabs you tight, holding you close, his lips forcing yours open and sliding his tongue into your mouth.

You gasp softly, hating how much you're enjoying this, wishing you had the willpower to move away. But you don't.

One of his hands starts going south, tracing over your torso, down your abdomen, to your pussy. He touches you through your loincloth, fingers pressing against your clit through the thin fabric.

You feel what he's doing and a semblance of sense pops back into your head. He can't treat me like that and fuck me and expect me to forgive him.

You bite his lip, making him grunt softly, but he holds you close, kissing you even though the taste of his blood invades your tongue.

He tugs you to him, holding onto your hip, his other hand undoing your loincloth before caressing your cunt, spreading your folds and touching you just the way he knows will make you wet.

You try not to, hope it doesn't get to you, but you find yourself whining, nails digging into his skin. “Jake—”

He shuts you up with another kiss before leading you to the ground. You're pissed, you want to keep fucking yelling and crying and making him angry. Instead, you let him. You let him take you to the floor, let him undress you, and in turn, you tug his loincloth off.

He chuckles darkly when he realizes that you're as eager as he is.

He runs the thick head of his cock between your folds, gathering the wetness at your entrance before sliding into you.

You whine softly, pussy throbbing around his long, thick cock.

“There you go,” Jake groans when his hips meet yours. “Oh, fuck.”

You grab onto his shoulders and he gives no warning as he starts rutting into you, the tip of his cock bruising your delicate cervix, each thrust knocking the breath from your lungs.

“Asshole,” you seethe between heavy breaths and little whimpers. “You're an asshole.”

“Shut up,” Jake says, pressing his lips to yours, kissing you like he's starving, like he's trying to tell you everything without saying a word.

You wrap your legs around his waist, your eyes fluttering shut, your body trembling as he fucks you.

You kiss Jake back with everything you have, all the anger, all the fear, all the love—all of it. You pour it onto his lips, your sharp canines dragging over his tongue when it slides inside your mouth, and he shudders softly.

He groans lowly as he breaks the kiss, moving his mouth to your neck. You mewl as he increases his pace, making your legs jerk with each hard thrust.

He bites on the skin of your neck, sucking on it, and you gasp. You already know the hickey you're going to have in the morning.

“This what you fuckin' needed, hm?” he says, biting you again. “You just needed me to teach you some fucking manners.”

You sink your nails into his back, making him grunt. “Stop fucking talking,” you seethe, your voice a mere whine as he continues to rut into you.

The sound of your soaked pussy is loud in your tent, the slap of Jake's hips against yours making you blush with the obscenity of it all.

Jake bites down on your shoulder, hard, and you fold your ears back, hissing softly. But the pain only adds to the pleasure. It makes you gasp and tremble, a heat spreading in your womb as he keeps fucking you.

You want to complain. You want to bite him and punch him and kiss him and tell him you love him. He's so infuriating, so fucking annoying. You hate that you can never stay angry at him, hate that he always finds the way to get your heart to soften for him. You wish you were immune to his charms, but it's damn near impossible for you.

You tangle your hands in his hair and pull, drawing his face to yours so you can kiss his lips. You feel him grin slightly as you do, his soft lips smirking into the kiss as you moan.

The pleasure within you is spreading, reaching across your skin like vines, taking root and making you see stars behind your eyelids.

You begin bucking your hips up, gasping as you feel yourself closer to the edge. You try to match Jake's pace, but he's going too hard for you to keep up. Besides, he's already fucked you half dumb, there's not much you can do but take it.

Jake can tell when you're going to come. He can feel the way your pussy grows tight around him, sucking him in, making it harder for him to fuck you. Still, he keeps going, relishing in the sensation of your slick dropping down his balls. He grunts with each thrust, ensuring he fucks you as deep as he can and in return, he receives your little whimpers and moans. He watches your face as your eyes roll into the back of your head, and he knows you're right there.

And still, the stubborn little thing you are, you bite your lip, trying to keep quiet as you come, but Jake fucks you harder, forcing you to let out a gasp followed by a loud moan that has his own orgasm nearing.

He continues to rut into you, again and again, groaning and gasping until he comes. His load fills you, making you shiver, and he's left caging you under him, your body trembling.

He pulls out of you, leaning on his knees to see the way his cum drips out of your swollen, raw pussy.

His eyes scan up your body until he meets your gaze, and something within him softens.

He crawls beside you, laying down at your side and spooning you. You cross your arms, obviously still upset, and he presses a few soft kisses on your shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” he tells you, his voice quiet and gentle. “I'm sorry. You're right, you're only worrying about me, and I'm being an asshole. I didn't mean to scare you, baby. I never do. Sometimes I just get carried away by the excitement when we're out in the field. But I promise it won't happen again. Truly.” He kisses the side of your neck, one of his hands caressing your hip. “I'm sorry, baby. I'm truly sorry. I'll let you know beforehand when I plan on taking a little longer out during patrol.” He kisses your cheek gently. “I love you. So much. And I don't want you to think that all I need you for is to take care of the house. You know you're everything to me. You're my sun and my moon and my stars. You're everything. Without you, I'd be empty. You know that. Please, baby, don't ever think that you're nothing but an asset to me. Because you're not. You're my woman, my wife, my baby. You're everything to me, love. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

You turn around to face him, your eyes softened.

“Do you forgive me?” he asks softly.

You smile gently at him. “You're forgiven,” you say.

Relieved, Jake leans towards you and places a soft kiss to your lips. He doesn't know what he'd ever do without you.

-----

@kamcrazy123 @yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise @neytirishottie @crazy4books1

-----

Blog masterlist

[wojcheks]

Stuck — Murdoc x F!Reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: NSFW, enemies to fucking, unhealthy relationships, undercover mission gone wrong, reader works for an unspecified organization, sexual tension, rough treatment, tied up, dub!con (?) (reader wants it but physically can't leave), choking, biting, fingering (f!receiving), PIV, unprotected sex, blood, possessiveness, murdoc is his own warning. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k 𝐀/𝐍: first smut i've ever posted!! the david dastmalchian obsession finally got me y'all. while looking for fics of his characters i decided to write my own. i only watched two episodes with this man so i'm pretty sure he's incredibly ooc. hope it's enjoyable regardless! ❤

You were told you’d be working with a wild card during this mission.

They assured you it wouldn’t affect the overall difficulty of the job. In fact, your partner had excellent skills in all the areas useful for achieving your objective. Weapons expert, proficient in hand-to-hand combat, knowledgeable, and calculated in his actions. All good things in your line of work.

What you didn't know was that they assigned you Murdoc.

And that was information that one needed to know prior to running face first into the aforementioned man. Especially during a job that would undoubtedly involve violence. For fuck’s sake, you would tear your handler a new one after this was over and done with.

Your first instinct was to put a fist through the hitman’s face.

A fair assumption was that he was here to derail you or, at the very least, complicate things. It wouldn’t be the first time he showed up simply to cause mayhem and be a thorn in your side.

Snarling, you threw his body against the wall and the assassin’s head hit the concrete with a sickening thud. With a forearm over his throat, you pressed down, immobilizing him.

You could admit that you were being a little too aggressive than necessary about it.

His dark eyes sparked with an unsettling light, something so unthreatened and unalterable about him it made your hair raise. He wasn't intimidated, you could tell. He treated you more like a nuisance to wave away, not an equal.

You felt his throat move against your skin when he swallowed, and it made you wanna press down harder.

“Calm down, sweetheart. The night's just getting started,” Murdoc murmured while leering at you from behind a wall of long eyelashes. They were so pronounced you wondered if he was wearing mascara.

His eyes suddenly grew wider in a mockery of fear, tone climbing to a falsetto, "Oh, dear god, what did I ever do to deserve this treatment?"

His voice grated on your nerves on the best of days, and this was a pretty bad one. A scoff rose up in your throat, but you crushed it before it could escape. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

The clear irritation that lowered your tone into a harsh whisper, however, was unmistakable. A small twitch of his cheek indicated that the hitman found your reaction highly amusing. He made a move as if to raise his hands towards you, but you clamped down on his trachea harder, and he stopped. And as the meaning of your words sunk in, you could almost see the gears start turning behind that smug facade of his.

“Murdoc. Stop thinking of ways to make this more difficult for me, and tell me plainly. What’s going on?” 

A shade of disappointment marred his face before disappearing as quickly as it showed. “Come on, agent, you know me. Where would be the fun in that?”

“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends,” the reprimand barely left your mouth before Murdoc’s fingers wrapped around your elbow and painfully bent it at an angle, removing it from his windpipe with a sharp tug. 

Wide-eyed indignation contorted your face as your places suddenly reversed and Murdoc crushed you into the wall, not holding back either.

You weren’t some dainty, fragile damsel in need of rescue–there was hardened muscle hidden under your evening attire. And yet, Murdoc still overpowered you, both in terms of height and sheer strength.

Your nostrils flared in anger, and you threw your body weight against his grip to dislodge it. 

He made a disapproving sound and let his weight fall on the point of contact between the two of you, driving the sharp parts of his slender fingers into the softness of your neck. You tried to suck in a breath and rasped instead.

“Now, now, you’ll either continue to throw your little tantrum, which won't end well, or start being useful by helping me,” as his words caught up to him, a displeased crease appeared between his brows.

“Although, using the term ‘help’ would be a dire exaggeration. I could be finished here long before you pick yourself up off the floor.”

You knew he was aiming to hurt your ego and rile you up, throwing you off balance around him seemed to be the primary goal. If you lost control and started lashing out against his mockery, the man would undoubtedly win.

He usually attempted it when the two of you ran into each other; it was a path well trodden, with various results.

Admitting it never even crossed your mind, but you were aware, deep down, that he was damn good at it. The words he used were one thing, and as cutting and shrewd in his judgements as he was, sometimes all it took for you to lose it was the damned look on his face. Always so superior and above it all. Like he wasn’t even human.

It drove you nuts.

You geared up for another round of verbal sparring before parsing his meaning. You hissed out the next words; the pressure exerted on your throat proved to be a pretty good deterrent from speaking. “Y-you’re the partner, the informant, that I’m... I’m supposed to be working with?”

Something in your face must have betrayed the distaste stirred up by the idea because Murdoc chuckled and then finally let go of your neck to bow with a flourish. 

You coughed loudly, to get rid of the intrusive feeling of somebody being in control of your breathing. You massaged the bruised flesh where Murdoc’s gloves likely left indentation marks in their wake, then rolled your eyes at his theatrics.

“I don’t think letting your guard down around me is a good idea,” you said dryly when he finally straightened up from the exaggerated pose.

“Oh, sure it is,” another wide grin split his mouth, and you gritted your teeth in muted frustration. “And oh so thrilling, I assure you.”

You didn’t grace that with an answer.

Ten minutes and one barely civil conversation with your HQ later, you and Murdoc walked arm in arm into the towering building.

With only a few minutes to spare, you didn’t even find time to touch up your make-up. Or double check your gun. And as luck would have it, what you were infiltrating was a ball. With dancing included.

You'd groan out loud, but you knew your companion had a biting comment prepared if you so much as blinked wrong. Murdoc seemed thoroughly entertained by the whole debacle and made no effort to hide it, strutting along with all the subtlety of a battering ram.

It was supposed to be his strong suit, being a shadow or whatever, but driving you up the wall must haven taken priority.

In fact, there seemed to exist nothing that made him giddier than getting a reaction out of you, for whatever accursed reason.

“Now, wife,” his lip twitched at the word, “how about we get this party started?”

“How about you never call me that again?”

“And blow our cover? I would never do that to you.”

You glanced towards him. He caught you instantly, his dark piercing gaze dedicated to not letting you get away with anything.

Those dilated pupils peering from beneath half-open eyelids were anything but easy to withstand, but you held your ground. That is, until he gave you a slow once-over, complete with a too-long pause focusing on your cleavage.

“You are infuriating,” you snapped and whipped your head away in the other direction, barely managing not to raise your hand to cover the gap in your clothing.

The man only drew closer and raised his own arm towards you in an inviting (taunting, something inside you whispered) gesture.

“I have my charm. Shall we?”

—

“Would you let go of me, you animal?” While you tried to keep the hissing to a minimum, he wasn't making it easy.

And Murdoc’s hold on you didn’t release, obviously, the words entirely ignored. You expected nothing less.

The leather of his gloves was smooth and firm against your skin, colder than expected, artificial feeling. The sensation was unsettling, a barrier between you that you'd normally welcome with open arms, but something felt different tonight. Instead, you wished he’d take them off, bare skin on bare skin.

The visual had its… appeal.

Even if the man it centered on did not.

You stopped pulling away to not attract more attention from the surrounding people. A couple on your left already began to whisper while unsubtly pointing towards you. Making everyone think that they were witnessing a domestic dispute was a terrible way of staying unnoticed, even Murdoc had to know that. 

He didn’t seem to care about it at all. 

He pulled harder until you had no choice but to step closer towards him. Your palm fell on his chest, breath catching in your throat.

You never really noticed just how much he towered over you when in close quarters, and you wished you still hadn't. Sticking out your chin was a childish move, but having no control over your present movements brought that out in you. 

Where you stood wasn’t a ballroom exactly, but the lofty ceilings and ornate columns lining the walls gave a strong impression of one. Grandiose was one word for it. Over-the-top was another.

Massive mirrors adorned the sides, and you caught a glimpse of your silhouette, partially obscured by the imposing shape of the man gripping your side. You shivered and turned away, oblivious to Murdoc's curious gaze following.

You skimmed the crowd in an attempt to locate the person you were after. It wasn't just to distract from the heat that image caused. Obviously.

“Enjoying yourself?” The singsong lilt of Murdoc’s voice coming from above drew your attention. You reluctantly looked up, ready to chastise him for his pestering; there were things at stake here more important than his pathological need to feel superior.

With languid steps, he swirled you softly to the side, and then pressed you into his chest, his grasp the very opposite of gentle. His fingers were demanding, leaving no room for physical distance.

It felt like a display.

Like he was showing you off.

He had to bend over to reach properly, the tips of his fingers running over the gap in your dress, moving the red material to the side, exposing more skin. You grabbed onto a lapel of his coat, feeling shaken from it.

Some strange stupor fell over you. Staring up at the length of Murdoc’s neck, watching him breathe in and out, the rhythm was almost hypnotic.

You had to dispel it, needed to focus. There was a tremor in your voice, one you hoped he'd take for anger.

“Did you forget why we’re here? It isn’t some fun little outing concocted for your amusement–”

“–I’d beg to differ–”

“–but a mission of significant importance to the security of–”

“–I thought this was a date–”

“–individuals invaluable to not only my organization but society as a whole–”

Murdoc abruptly leaned forward, cutting you off. “Do you even listen to yourself anymore? You’re really starting to sound like a talking head for your little agency, sweetheart, and that’s not very attractive.”

Biting down on a “go fuck yourself”, you turned, lips touching his cheek as you answered. “I don’t recall ever asking for your opinion, Murdoc. I think it’s better if you refrain from sharing it in the future.”

He caught your eyes with an empty smile, a shark showing his teeth. “Zero promises.”

—

You didn’t end up dancing for long before everything went to shit. 

Splitting off from your partner for the night gave you some room to breathe. It also provided a unique opportunity for an assailant to knock you out cold in a deserted hallway.

Later you’d curse yourself for making such a rookie mistake—never split up without letting the other person know—but at the time you weren’t thinking clearly, a little preoccupied with things. You weren’t prepared for it, was the point, and you paid for that mistake dearly.

A sharp acute pain in the back of your skull jolted you awake. There was a building pressure behind your eyes and a pounding headache that turned your stomach.

You felt sick, and that wasn’t a good sign.

One failed attempt to open your eyes later, you realized what must have happened. Your previously done up hair was tangled with a makeshift blindfold, the cloth covering your line of sight. A twin piece wedged into your mouth stopped you from screaming for help.

Trying to push it out with your tongue brought only frustration, alongside a coughing fit.

Too much time couldn’t have passed, right?

You truly loathed the idea, but still dearly hoped that Murdoc was on his way to get you.

If someone told you a few hours ago that you’d ever count on Murdoc for back-up however, you would have laughed at them.

But life has a funny way of fucking with people, and this must've been karma for all the times you talked back to your boss. That's what he'd say, at least.

And with your shitty luck, the hitman was already gone, sporting a martini in some luxurious hotel suite, ogling strippers, or whatever men like him did to relax. Shooting innocents for fun was more likely.

That measly hope was dashed when a small groan reached your ears. A familiar chuckle followed, close nearby.

There was a hand wrapping around your wrist and you scrambled backwards, heart-rate skyrocketing. Trying to get away from the touch proved unsuccessful–your hands were connected to a chain, which was connected to a wall, keeping you firmly in place. 

Deep breaths.

Looking for information was your first priority in a crisis, so you moved a hand over the ground, searching for anything to use. It was smooth but with loose gravel in places, like the coating of an underground parking lot, or more likely, a basement. 

Attempting to calm down the thundering beating of your heart, you leaned back against the firmness, letting long fingers caress the inside of your wrist.

“M–uh–rdoc?” Your attempt at words was muffled and barely audible, but distinct enough.

“The one and only,” the assassin's response came back loud and clear–no obstruction in its way, a luxury you weren't afforded.

For a split second, you entertained the idea that he knocked you out cold and dragged your unconscious body down here to do god knows what. It didn't seem beyond him.

Fingers clamped down on your pulse point, forcefully grabbing your attention. "You're tied up, agent, and I can help you with that, but you'll have to push that ego aside for a moment."

A protest rose in your throat.

“Be a good girl and do as I say, got it?”

With a swallow, you stopped. The near silence of the room made it impossible to tell if the assassin noticed your reaction or not.

You weren't sure how close he was. How much attention he was paying. Dealing with this strange thing that's been chasing you all night was the last thing you wanted to do.

Murdoc's voice was calm and in control, a tone that inspired confidence and trust—emotions you were, as a rule, reluctant to feel towards him. But you had no choice. This was the fastest way to get out of your restraints, so, keeping your worries in check, you nodded assent.

Seemingly able to both move around and see, he hummed his acknowledgement.

“Good girl.”

“Now, scoot over to the right, yeah, just like that, use your legs. Keep going until you hit my side, you're almost there,” he directed, clearly aiming for something.

A stream of soft murmurs of apology filled the air at the pained noises you made when dragging your ankle. Someone clearly bent it at a shitty angle when they were attaching the chain, and you weren't sure if it was twisted or fractured. It fucking hurt though.

The pain must've made you delirious, because Murdoc was not the sort of man to know what an apology even was.

“Now put your leg up, the right one, try to sit up and then turn your body around. God, sweetie, it's been a while since I've seen good old-fashioned chains… not even handcuffs, they have us in chains,” Murdoc's voice ended in a high-pitched giggle, disbelief mixing with mirth at the absurdity of it.

You successfully followed directions and suddenly found yourself sitting on his propped up leg, balancing on it; your dress riding up on either side of your hips from the clumsy movements. Goosebumps rose in the cold air's wake.

Your face heated at the image you must have made, all wobbly and sweaty, desperate for guidance, barely covered up by the torn dress. Everything on display for Murdoc.

It became hard to breathe.

“That's right, just scoot closer, so I can reach you,” the tone of his voice was lower now, not quite a whisper, but close enough to make you shiver.

Keeping balance with arms bent behind you and wrists tied together was not easy. More soft pained noises, more maneuvering into position and you slid down, your ass landing directly on the hitman's lap.

Was that a gun in his pocket–?

“That's perfect, baby, just a little bit closer, so I can get rid of that pesky gag,” he grunted, sounding momentarily caught off-guard. “You do look good in it, though, I have to admit.”

Incapable of hitting him square in the jaw, you resigned yourself to leaning forward instead.

Curious fingers ran through your tangled hair, fingernails catching against your skin in exploratory touches, until finally making their way lower, towards the gag. Moments of fiddling later, the gag was gone and you could speak.

So you did. “What the fuck, Murdoc, are your hands free?”

“Shhh, agent, what if they hear us?” The way his voice caught on a snigger, bereft of any actual worry, threw a gallon of gasoline under the low level rage that's been burning in your chest the whole evening.

“Are you fucking kidding me, you fucker?"

It hurt, just how much he didn't care.

“We could die here, in this stupid basement, surrounded by nothing but trash and bound in some medieval ass chains, because you’d rather play around than do something useful for once!” Your voice grew louder and louder, and being unable to see his no doubt self-satisfied expression made it significantly worse.

“I’m asking you to help me, just once, just this one single time, you asshole. To put my well-being over your own, think of someone else but yourself! And take this stupid blindfold off me–Please–” You were on the verge of begging now, voice breaking on a plea.

A long stretch of nothing followed, disturbed only by your heavy breathing. Then, a light trace of fingertips over your cheekbone. “I didn’t know you trusted me so much, agent.”

“What–?” 

Wet lips crashed into yours and Murdoc grabbed a fistful of your hair, pressing you against him. His smell filled your senses, something sharp and spicy, with an undercurrent of leather. The sound that left you was embarassing.

His palm was so big it encircled the back of your head effortlessly, fingers unkind in their urgency. He jostled your wound and you struggled within his grasp, trying to pull away with a distressed whine. Unable to see, unable to move, your body overcompensated for the lack of senses, making it feel like he was pressing into an exposed nerve. "Mu–urdoc–”

The groan made him pull away, sticky red smeared all over his hand now. He looked at it and chuckled. "Ah, they got you good, sweetheart. Let me make it worse.”

He didn't sound apologetic at all, and stuck his mouth to the underside of your jaw, sucking on the sensitive flesh. Tongue lapping up the saltiness of your skin, he let out a satisfied groan, hand wrapping around your neck to keep you from moving.

You let out another stifled whimper, part of you wanting to pull away from his possessive grip. The other part knew it would leave a mark and craved it more than anything.

Head falling back, your chest rose with laboured breaths, small sounds of exhilaration falling from your mouth. “Fucking hell–Ah–”

His other palm grabbed your breast, kneading it forcefully, wringing more gasps out of you. You felt his lips turn up in gratification against your tender flesh.

“Does that feel good?” His usually airy tone was raspy now, the gruff whisper making you shudder against his torso. “Tell me.”

You couldn't stop it; your hips ground down onto his own, dragging against the growing hardness beneath you. The emptiness inside you was infuriating, and you couldn't even reach down to relieve the pressure. You needed him now.

A loud cry left you when Murdoc bit down punishingly on your throat and gripped your chin between his fingers. He pressed his lips against yours before speaking, as if he couldn't stop himself.

“Fucking tell me, agent. Tell me what I should do with you. So powerless, all tied up, mine to control. I could do anything, so what will it be?”

“Murdoc, please–”

“Please what?” Cold air hit your skin as he pulled the dress up and slapped the back of your thigh, then snapped his fingers twice. “Focus, agent, right here, focus on me.”

This was all wrong; the way his gloved hand rubbed the stinging spot afterwards, his demanding tone, just how wet you could feel yourself becoming the more he touched you. The more he made you his.

“Touch me, please,” the words came out as a whisper, and were met with another chuckle.

“No no no no, sweet girl, that's not good enough. You gotta work for it.”

You couldn't escape, so you lowered your head into his shoulder, hoping to somehow disappear.

“Don't hide.” He yanked the blindfold off and threw it to the side, moving your head up so he could catch your gaze.

Despite everything happening between you, the mercenary looked near unbothered. His hand on your face felt steady, his breathing only slightly elevated, an expression on his face that you could only call triumphant.

It made you burn.

Your lipstick was smeared over his mouth, the red streaks physical proof of the way he crushed your lips together. You wanted to sink your teeth into his flesh and tear, a visceral representation of what he made you feel.

If your hands weren't bound, you'd be shoving them against his chest and running your fingernails down, marking him as yours too.

As it was, you only had your words left.

"Just fuck me, Murdoc, or do you need written instructions?"

The smug smile he sent your way was answer enough.

He grabbed the dark red material of your dress and tore the bottom part in half, a sharp exhale leaving your chest at the action. Then he stroked your ass, roughly stretched it and parted your legs, toying with the muscle.

You felt beyond exposed, a butterfly pinned to a board. Hair in disarray, flimsy panties not enough cover against forceful fingers and the hitman’s searing gaze. Naked planes of skin kept growing more and more red from the pleasure he wrung out of you. His hand reached between your thighs, and you closed your eyes.

He openly stared, drinking you in. Sharp canines peeked from behind his lips, mouth half open in captivation, and the black strands of hair fell over his eyes.

"What a sight you are," Murdoc murmured and palmed you over the thin material, fingers gathering moisture that soaked through it already.

You bit down on your lip and moved against his broad fingers, your muscles straining from keeping upright for so long.

He kept looking at your face and cataloging every little expression that passed over it, his eyes ablaze with a frenzy, an expression that in any other situation would make you shudder in fear.

Hell, it still did.

Impatiently, he pulled the material to the side and easily sank two fingers inside you, moving them in and out with a beckoning movement, rubbing against your clit until you let out a sob.

His wrist grew still for a moment, watching you grow frustrated in his lap, twisted satisfaction burning in his gaze. Then he added another finger, plunging all three as deep as they would go.

“Fuck, Murdoc, you shit–!”

He giggled and shushed you, "Stay still."

"Fucking bastard–"

"You telling me you don’t like this? You're not a whore who gets off on getting finger-fucked by her enemy?"

You wailed as he hit a spot inside you. “Shut the f-fuck–up–” 

“Aw, but you don’t want me to, do you?” He shot forward, pressing his face to yours, hot breath hitting your lips as he continued, “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers, agent, and then I’m gonna force them down your throat. Would you like that?”

Keening growing louder at the words, you moved your hips faster, panting against him, already nodding your head before realizing.

“I thought so,” the thrusting of his fingers grew quicker and you writhed in his lap, unbothered by what you looked like, only chasing your release with a single-minded determination.

Every once in a while your ass moved over Murdoc’s still clothed cock and he let out a pained-sounding hiss, his grip on your throat growing tighter.

You’d feel victorious if you weren’t so out of it.

Murdoc wrenched his fingers out of you and licked the moisture off, closing his eyes in pleasure. "God, you taste so good. How am I ever supposed to let you go?"

The sudden emptiness made you panic, and you caught his mouth in a kiss, urging him to continue. You could taste the slight saltiness from his fingers, your own flavour.

He pulled away from you with a laugh, then hissed again when you licked the side of his throat.

“Patience, agent, patience.” The grip on your neck disappeared and you heard his zipper open, a relieved exhale following.

The flicking of his wrist kept going for a few more seconds before he pulled out and ripped the flimsy fabric of your underwear off entirely. With an arm around your waist, he steadied you, before pressing the head of his cock forward.

At first, there was a dull sensation of resistance, Murdoc being bigger than you expected. But before you could protest, your cunt gave way, and he slipped in, the fullness and drag on your insides making you tighten around him.

The man rocked into you, his arm pressing your bodies so close together you could feel every laboured breath he took. You wanted to rip off the coat he was wearing, taste the naked skin over his ribs on your tongue.

You barely even noticed the changing gravity as you got pushed into the ground, your back painfully dragging against the rubble.

“I wanna spread your legs and eat you out until all you can think of is getting filled up to the brim,” Murdoc sounded almost delirious now, his hips speeding up, “wanna bury myself in you and keep going until you’re screaming–”

You encircled his waist with your legs, the pain of moving your ankle getting lost in the white noise that filled your head. You wanted him closer, you needed him closer.

Every time he pushed back in you squeezed him harder, wanting the stretch, urging him to thrust faster, squirming when he hit that spot inside you. It was almost too much, waves of pleasure twisting your insides, breathing near impossible.

"You'll feel me for days, agent, won't be able to look in the mirror without remembering my cock deep inside you," he groaned loudly, pulling you up into his lap without stopping the movement of his hips.

He bit down on your collarbone, leaving a red imprint of his teeth behind.

"Wanna mark you, scar you, make it so no one will ever touch you again–"

Your fingernails bit into the palm of your hand, his rasping voice pushing you over the edge. Knowing that you made him sound that way, that you brought out something desperate and reckless, a frenzied stream of litanies, from a man like Murdoc.

That was what did it.

Your legs tensed and clamped over his thighs, and you let out a string of curses. “FuckfuCKFUCK! Please–M-Murdoc, I–!” 

He covered your mouth with his own and swallowed the shrill sounds, kisses turning brutal as you trembled in his arms. First his tongue ran over your teeth, then he bit down on your lower lip until the skin broke, a small stream of red immediately smudging between your lips. The sting sent a pulse down to your cunt, sucking Murdoc's cock in deeper.

He kept thrusting even as you stiffened, insides clenching around him like a vice, and with a short bark of your name he spilled himself on your inner walls.

Your exhausted body was pressed against his chest and you were empty for a moment. No worries, no thoughts. The aftershocks wiped your head clean of everything.

Your torn dress fell off your shoulders, but you didn't notice.

When you came to, your wrists were free, and the two of you were laying side by side on the floor.

Murdoc was staring at you like the cat that swallowed the canary; strands of hair were sticking out of place and a thin sheen of sweat covered his face, making his skin look glossy. It made him look so young, but you knew better.

His fingers kept running over the red imprint on your chest, eyes occasionally glancing at your scratched up wrists. He seemed... content. Some of that ever-present frantic energy looked to be gone.

You exhaled softly, the man's lips grabbing your attention. There was a redness there, lipstick or blood, and you weren’t sure which option was more appealing. Either way, you couldn’t take your eyes off it.

With an unsteady hand, you ran a finger through it, captivated by the sight, and the feeling of warm, malleable flesh.

Murdoc almost seemed human like this.

In a deliberately slow move, he ran his tongue over the tip of your finger and licked the ruddiness off. Grinned again.

God, you wanted to punch that smug look off his face, and you wanted to kiss him until he couldn't breathe.

What a fucking day.

[somedayillbepeterpan]

I am sleep deprived from the Dublin + Galway premiere (let's face it, I've been sleep deprived for the past 2 months) and I'm already experiencing withdrawals.

So, I am ranking Luke and Nic's outfits for the press tour. This is solely based on my emotions and opinions. I have no idea about fashion at all but I do love looking at beautiful things. This is also solely the press tour 'fits. I have purposely excluded the premiere/first look outfits when they have all the cast with them. There are also some outfits I've missed as I can't seem to find where to source them other than on social media posts and the quality is bad.

I love all the outfits and I think it's what's added to this World Press Tour experience. Nicola's courage to wear some of the outlandish outfits (as per her words) sparked something in me. And waiting for Luke to smile on the red carpet was like a secret game.

But the point is-- THEY ALWAYS SLAYED.

This is ranked from lowest to highest. I've put it under the line so as not to overwhelm timelines because this has gone longer than what I thought it would be.

Excerpt - 6th rank - Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

They looked like they came out of a medieval play where she is the all-powerful mage and he is the most decorated knight.

8th rank - Milan, Italy

Their outfit in here looked so sweet. The simple colour aesthetic was so easy in the eye. I especially love Nicola's headband and Luke's chiseled beard. I don't know if anyone have pointed out his elven ears but they are adorable.

I rank this 9th because I've seen them both don similar outfits before and because this was coming off from the Australian premiere, my expectations was a tad higher.

7th rank - Galway, Ireland before they went to the theatre

I love Nicola's blue coat and the nod to both the Bridgerton and Featherington colours was a nice touch. Luke looks handsome but I don't think brown is his colour as his complexion looks washed-out with this outfit. Again, just my opinion. Do not kill me.

6th rank - Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

There are a lot of people I saw who had a beef with their outfits for this leg but I actually really love both of their outlandish look. I have a weakness for long coats on men so this is already a win for me for Newts' look. But Nicola's dragon-esque dress wowed me. It looks good on her but I think the beef that people have is not so much about the outfit but the place and time where she wore it. BUT-- let me direct you to Zendaya's robot-esque press tour outfit for Dune 2 so to each their own. And don't come at me with how the dress doesn't accentuate her figures. It accentuate it very much and I'm so happy seeing her curves in all out display.

They looked like they came out of a medieval play where she is the all-powerful mage and he is the most decorated knight.

5th rank - Toronto Canada

Gosh, I love NIcola's dress and red duvet (again, her words). I think, I always love it when Nicola wears a boob tube dress because let's be honest, her breast is her greatest asset. Not to be crass but I am a proud fan of her perfect breasts. I also wished that Luke showed his blue shirt because if you look at it closely, it's not your usual men's button shirt. I would've loved to see how it accentuated his long torso. I don't think full stripes flatters him because he is already looks long. But he did have that old hollywood look with this outfit.

4th rank - Dublin, Ireland

Them matching is always a treat and it happened for the whole of the Ireland leg. They looked like that cool couple that you always see on your feed and feel equally in awe and jealous of. They both looked sooooo sexy with these outfits.

3rd rank - Sydney, Australia

This was what got my attention on the whole press tour and started my sleep deprivation. I woke up and I was blasted with this gorgeous photo of them holding hands and the wave of chemistry hit me like a firetruck. What more, they were right at my backyard and I didn't know until it was already too late. That custom Richard Quinn dress on Nicola was utterly gorgeous. She looked like an angel to me. And again, Luke in a long coat with a white singlet?? Hwooo... it did wonders to my blood.

2nd - Galway, Ireland

Knitwear is also my weakness and the fact that they were both dressed by the same designer was such a treat to see. I loved that they honoured Nic's heritage. And also, cmo'n, that hat on Nic was so cute. Also, anytime a man in a sweater always make me weak.

1st - Dublin, Ireland (everyone's favourite, I think)

THEM MATCHING WAS EVERYTHING! It was like watching them on their way to their wedding. Luke's jacket, Nicola's custom dress, and the accessory nods to Bridgerton icons -- the bee and the flower-- made this matching outfit so special. Them holding hands is always a treat but seeing them so celebrated on Nicola's hometown was so touching to watch.

I have never followed a press tour like I have done this one. This is the only press tour that has managed to grip my attention and I'm very happy to have been part of the whole experience.

I NEED THEM AGAIN. I ALREADY MISS THEM.

[k-slla]

A/N: a little idea that has been playing around in my head got finally written down :)

Pairing - Dean x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, show level violence, death

WC: 1120 | My Masterlist

All mistakes are mine. Feedback is appreciated!

Enjoy!

Sun. You could feel its warmth softly caress your cheeks. Through light sleep you heard children laughing in the distance. A door sliding open next to you brought you out from your sleep.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Dean lowered himself next to you and kissed your forehead. “Don't you want to take a nap in bed?” He sat down next to you on the porch swing.

You opened your eyes and squinted at him in the brightness of the sun.

“But it's so warm here.” You smiled and moved closer into his arms. You rested your head on his shoulder and both looked out into the yard. You couldn't help but smile to yourself seeing your older twin boys chase around the yard after their little sister. It still doesn't feel real to you to think that you and Dean really got out of the hunting life. You got married. You have this beautiful blue house with a huge yard for your dog to run around. And what was most perfect about this all - you had three beautiful, perfect children with him. Twin boys who turned 12 at the start of the summer and a five year old daughter.

It was a warm quiet summer evening. You still had a few hours before Sam and Eileen were supposed to come over for a little barbeque. “Sometimes I still think that this is a dream that we're having. It feels almost too perfect.” You said quietly and snuggled to him.

“It does, doesn't it? Look at me, Y/N.” Dean's voice was soft when he spoke. You turned your eyes up to meet his gaze. He was still perfect. Years had started to show on his face, but all that just made him even more beautiful. They made him yours. And even after all those years hunting, he never lost that spark in his eyes. You both had gone through a lot over the years. Pain, grief, losing friends and family, but for all those things you were there for each other. Helping each other to heal. He ran his fingers over your sunkissed cheek, before lowering his head to kiss you softly, lovingly.

“I love you, sweetheart. I know this seems so unreal even after all those years, but it is. We are free.”

A soft moan got suppressed in you when he kissed you once more. “I love you, Dean.”

You heard a phone ring inside the house and Dean got up to answer it, while you remained seated and looked over the yard at your children laughing and playing together.

After a little while, Dean stepped back outside. “T’was Sam. Said they might be running a little late. Julia had asked him to ask if Auntie would make her some of her “yummies”, but I told him you're tired, so no.”

“What? Dean!” You got up quickly. “Call him back. Of course I can do them.” You protested loudly, but figured out quickly that he was just messing with you from the smile that was all over his face.

You walked into the kitchen and started to gather things for your “yummies” as Sam and Eileen's daughter Julia called them. They were just simple brownies with a little almond butter swirled into it with whatever berries you had at hand. Today you decided to use raspberries. Can't go wrong with some classics. You thought to yourself as you put the tray into the oven. Soon the decadent smell of chocolate and almonds filled the kitchen air.

A few hours later everyone gathered around the fire pit in your backyard. Dean was handling the grill, you and Eileen made drinks for everyone and Sam stayed with the kids around the fire. The whole evening was filled with laughter and joy, and you could really feel yourself being at peace, happy around your family. It was already dark, but kids were still running around while the four of you were sitting around the fire.

You started to nod off again next to Dean. You heard him quietly whisper to you. “Y/N. Wake up, please.” His pleas were growing more desperate. “Please, sweetheart. Wake up!” You were still so warm and wanted to snuggle in closer to him, but you opened your eyes and saw that you were alone around the fire. It all started to disappear fast with Dean's voice getting clearer and clearer with each passing second.

“Open your eyes, baby. Please..” You knew that voice. You had heard that same tone many times before. “Wake up. Don't leave me! Please don't leave me..” It got cold around you and you felt like something else was pulling you out. Then you remembered. The hunting trip you went on. You were certain that you could've done it alone. Apparently you were wrong.

Djinns. The whole lot of them. More than you had expected, that's for sure. You didn't know it then, but as soon as you stepped out of your car, you were done for. You had no chance.

You forcefully opened your eyes and saw Dean hover above you. “Dean..I..” You were tired. You wanted to cry, but no tears would come. Your throat was sore and scratchy as you tried to talk. “Dean, I’m..sorry..” You were laying on the hard concrete floor, Dean right beside you.

You tried to reach out to his cheek, but you couldn't move. “I'm.. there were so many..” You whispered.

“It's okay, baby, just stay with me, okay?” He pulled you closer to his chest, kissing your forehead softly. You felt warm tears run down your cheeks. His tears.

“I don't..I don't think I can..” Your breaths were quickening when your fate slowly made itself clear. “I love you..Dean.. I'm..” Dean hugged you tightly. “Y/N, no, please don't…please don't leave me.” He cried out, voice barely above whisper.

“I'll always..love..you..Dean.” Now you felt like you were crying. When it really felt like you were taking your last breaths. “Dean…please…tell..” With a last effort to pull your strength together, you reached out to Dean's cheek again. Your eyes locked with his, hoping he could read out from them what you were too weak to spell out. Please tell me you love me. Tell me it's okay.

“I love you, Y/N. I always will.”

His last kiss on your lips was what took you over. It all felt like you were just falling asleep.

When you opened your eyes again you were sitting on a porch swing in front of a blue house. There were no children laughing. Dean wasn't next to you. But there was sun shining. You could feel its warmth softly caress your cheeks.

Taglist: @cevansbaby-dove @jackles010378 @deanwinchestersgirl87 @nescavaneck @il0vebeingdelulu @suckitands33

[itjazzbicch]

Determination

Pairing:  Lars Alexandersson x Reader 

First time writing for Lars, so I hope I did well! 

Summary: Returning to their duties after being fatally injured during this madness of war, the reader surprises Lars as they are deeply in love but can't exactly have what their heart desires, not till the war ends and their duties are fulfilled...

Warnings:  Flashback (it is italicized!) Mentions of previous injury and wounds

Word Count: 0.6k 

"We'll be setting out in ten minutes..."

After six months, it was finally time for us to advance, helping Jin take down Kazuya once and for all. Lee and Lars had already made preparations, but there was one thing that Lee was keeping from Lars...

"Today..." When Jin was still missing months ago, I had been gravely injured while carrying out my operation regarding the international war that is still occurring. Everyone thought that I'd be out for good, but I was back, not only to help end this war, but there was someone special to me who needed to know that I had returned, smiling to Lars as I approached him and Lee on the rooftop of Violet Systems, ready to head out via aircraft. "We end all of this violence."

"Y/N-" Lars gasped, then was utterly speechless.

When our gazes met, I had never felt so many emotions bubble into me so quickly. The last time we saw each other was undeniably a horrible memory in his head, seeing how bloody and wounded I was, unsure if I was going to make it.

"You'll certainly be a great help, Y/N," Lee smiled at me, "Welcome back."

"Thank you," I smiled, my eyes still locked into Lars's as they glossed over, almost not believing his eyes. Even when the helicopter rotor blades spun and sent gusts of wind by us, Lars's hair whipping past his face, his gaze didn't leave mine for a moment.

------

"I'm not going to die on you, L-Lars...." I promised him the last time I saw him, my hand reaching out for him. "I will come back to you, I promise..."

-------

"I told you that I would come back," I smiled at Lars, finally face to face with him, "I promised."

"Y-You did..." His voice was low but full of emotion, and after seeing that Lee had given us a moment to ourselves and entered the aircraft, he showed his built-up emotions, hugging me softly at first, then squeezing me tighter and tighter, needing to feel me to know that this was real.

"And I'm not going anywhere," I whispered, hugging his head to keep him close, "We're going to end this war. Together."

The thought of the war wasn't in his mind at that moment, a gust of wind zipping past when our lips met, his arms pulling me close.

Lars never showed fear, but when I was wounded, and everyone feared I might not make it, he was terrified, as we had gone through so much together.

I wanted to wipe that memory away and focus on the future, for which we would fight tooth and nail. That's all I wanted: a bright future with him.

Kissing back, I held his face, keeping him as close as I could till our lips popped free, both of us gasping for air, feeling a spark as I had before when I found his blue eyes, smiling as that spark surged through me.

"I-I-" He was trying to speak but was still so shocked to see me here, the both of us laughing as he spat out, "I don't know what to say."

"And there's nothing wrong with that," I smiled, patting his cheek and kissing him one last time, "Besides, we have to focus on our duties for now."

I gave a soft but firm and assuring look at him, my eyes able to explain that this moment we had may have been short but meaningful, and the second we were done with our duties, we could have happier, longer moments just like this.

"You're right." He nodded, a determined look in his eyes as he stood up straight, both of us facing the aircraft. Taking his hand as I saw Lee waving for us, taking the first step of this wild journey we were about to begin:

"Let's end this war." 

2024 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome 

[alrxiin]

"Losing My Mind"

Sam x Darlin' (GN! reader) || angst

TW's : Non-consensual turning, blood, mild character violence, emotional distress, Sam going off the deep end.

Summary : It's been a while since your talk with Sam, and his fears have been slowly making him worse and worse... He one day comes home and when you don't respond, his paranoia takes over.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

It was a normal night at work, and a calm way back home. Nothing in the world could have been wrong, nothing but Samuel's own mind.

Ever since the Vamp had a talk with his lover, his already worried thoughts of the Shifter somehow leaving him earlier than anyone could have predicted, have at least tripled in the last weeks.

Unlocking the house, he slid off his shoes and hung his jacket up beside the door with a soft call-out to his love.

- "Darlin', I'm home." — Yet he received no reply.

It should've been normal, since it was still night, and they were most likely still asleep in their shared bed.

The only wrong thing was his now overflowing thoughts. Worry shot through the man and he started his search, going from one room to another only to see no sign of the Werewolf.

His callings went on deaf ears as Darlin' slept on the couch, a pair of earphones in their ears, playing music to keep them occupied, had only made them fall asleep waiting for Sam.

When the, now completely panicked, Vamp had finally found his mate on the couch, all bad thoughts jumped into his head with a renewed power.

He knelt down beside the couch, gently shaking Darlin'. Seeing as they slept heavily from the overthinking of their last talk, shaking them seemed to have no affect for a while, only when their mate had gone into something like a manic episode, had they stirred awake.

- "Sam?.. You're home?" — Their sentence gets cut short as he brings them into a tight hug.

- "Holy shit, you gave me a heart attack Darlin'." — He nuzzles his face into their neck, shivering when he feels the blood glowing under their skin. So close yet so far.

- "What? How, I don't think I did anything... Are you alright?" — Worried for their mate, they gently pulled Sam's face away from their neck, earning a soft almost growl from the man, confusing them even more.

- "Sam?–" —

- "Darlin', I don't think I can keep going like this." — His voice strangely stern, the Shifter couldn't help but look at him almost hurt.

- "What do you mean? Love, please, now you're giving me a heart attack." — They chuckled awkwardly, trying to de-stress themselves at least a bit.

- "I can't bare being worried about you every day. I can't lose you... I won't lose you." —

Before they could get any word out, the Vamp pinned Darlin' to the couch as softly as he could, his overpowering strength finally showing as they let out a yelp of surprise, squirming under his touch.

- "Sam, what's going on with you?!.." — But he didn't seem to hear them, or at least didn't want to.

- "I'm so sorry Darlin'. But I can't let you leave me, I've been so close to losing you, too many times to count." — As they looked up into his eyes, there was no Samuel there, only red piercing eyes staring into theirs. He put his hand up to his mouth, and perfectly on command his fangs popped out, piercing his skin.

As blood flowed, he put the bleeding hand on Darlin's mouth, forcing it open as gently as he could make himself in the state he was in. He leaned down, ignoring the whimpers of his sweet mate and pulling their head to the side.

- "This has to be done, Darlin'..." — Was the last thing he whispered out in a falsely comforting tone, before sinking his fangs into his lovers neck.

Blood flowed into his mouth, an overpowering metallic taste sending sparks down his back. And at the same, Darlin' drank from his hand, the Vamp's blood strangely tasty yet unwanted.

When he pulled away panting, they were dizzy, but not dizzy enough. As Sam was finally coming back to his senses, they put the last bit of their power into work, bringing themselves to half-shift and push the Vampire off of them.

With tears in their eyes, they stumbled to their feet, looking down at the man in betrayal.

This wasn't the Samuel they loved, the one who was so gentle, and who always assured he would never mistreat them like a certain rogue Vampire had back in the day.

- "What the fuck is wrong with you?.." — Were the first words coming out of their mouth, a hand on their neck where Sam had bit them, blood still flowing.

- "Darlin'–" —

- "Don't even try that with me, Samuel. I learned my lesson with Quinn and I'm not gonna let myself get hurt again..." — Unsure on what to do, he only looked up at them in shock, bits of blood still tingling on his lips.

- "I can't believe you, after everything... You only turned out like him." — They sniffled, quickly turning around on their heel and bolting it out of the mans house, leaving him with a sting in his heart and an overwhelming awareness if what he had done.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

That was the day Darlin' had lost their love, and the ability to shift...the only thing that they could have been proud of themselves for. In their eyes, the pack would never see them as family again, and so they left Dahlia for the last time, alone.

With Sam...Their once shared house now so empty again, the Shifters things were still scattered all around from the decorating they have done over the years, for they haven't come back for them. Days had gone by, turning into weeks, and Sam was yet again left alone in the woods.

The loneliness he once wanted and cherished so bad, now bringing him down with every day, and the moment he betrayed his love replaying in his mind.

"You were so afraid to lose me in years after, you had lost me even sooner. I am no longer Darlin', I am Tank to you."

That's the message he had gotten from them, spoken through William when he had to meet with him.

Like Maker, like Prodigy... right?

[neonscandal]

Manga With Me: JJK Crackpot Conspiracy That Makes Little to No Difference (While Maybe Making A Big Difference)

At this point, we're all aware that I, as the nerd aunt, watch a lot of my favorite anime with my niece and nephew and, against the better judgement of most adults, that includes JJK. During this rewatch, I noticed something that sparked an Aha! moment and now we all have to suffer that together.

Unrelated since I just wanted a Mahito gif but kinda related. This gif from S2E9 shows Mahito grabbing the red dragon mahjong piece. That of benevolence. 👀

⚠️: Spoiler warning through season 2 of JJK.

Ever since finding out that there are only five more chapters to JJK, I have not known peace. Which means I need to word vomit all the things that have been bouncing around my noodle expeditiously. This hypothesis, while making little impact on the chapters that remain, is still harrowing if you think about it too much, which I clearly have so follow me down this winding path. It's a little long but may be diabolically on point.

BASIS OF KNOWLEDGE

Let's start with what we know:

Curses are formed by the negative emotions humans harbor.

There are two canonically acknowledged events that created huge shifts in the balance between sorcerers, humans, and curses: Gojo's birth as a Six Eyes and Limitless user and Sukuna's awakening when Yuji ate the first finger.

The antiquated way the jujutsu society measures power plateaus at "special grade" which puts Gojo on equal footing with Geto even though power wise they aren't comparable. This is not to call Geto weak but, instead, to show that even in high school, the power scaling was faulty and left layers of nuance out of the equation.

HOWEVER, by the time Megumi, Yuji and Nobara enter Jujutsu Tech, some curses had evolved to verbally communicate complex articulations i.e. Mahito and Jogo.

Critically, throughout my constant poring over JJK I've gone back and forth on the why this is but the truth is in the rewatch and so is the outlier. The Earth (Jogo), the Forest (Hanami) and the Sea (Dagon) are highlighted to be the product of that which humans have always feared. This is where things get interesting and ultimately disproves one of my favorite fan theories that Dagon is a manifestation of Riko Amanai after death. Ancient curses, undoubtedly Special grade given the widespread fear they're born from and constantly replenished by. Bearing that in mind and with respect to Japan being regularly devastated by natural disasters, we as the readers can infer their relative power but also surmise that it is their age and subsequent fear that they garner that would eventually evolve them to where we see them now.

If Gojo's birth or Sukuna's awakening were the precipice for this evolution, wouldn't Dagon also be a conscious, articulate curse? Even Hanami is still in a middle ground of communicative competence. Notably, this is where the theory is born.

In this moment, Mahito is pleased to call these ancient beings friends. In explaining the way of the world to Junpei, Mahito goes on to say:

"There are spirits known as Special grade potential spirits. Cursed spirits are a culmination of cursed energy leaked from humans. An image of fear shared by the masses, even if not real... can manifest as a powerful curse."

Which we know to be true but... what fear does Mahito represent to be able to rub shoulders with the likes of such insurmountable curses?

It can't be that simple, can it? We've seen the curses yielded by abandoned, spooky and collectively stressful locations like schools and they don't hold a candle to Mahito.

THE MENACE MAHITO

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Fear the day that Yuji Itadori's heart breaks because the ensuing curse or subsequent rampage... his strength has been foreshadowed to be devastating. However, our focus in this analysis recognizes all the above and hypothesizes the origin of Mahito and their inextricable link to one another.

Ideologically, Mahito and Yuji are diametrically opposed in their assessment of life. Not really a spoiler to say that in recent chapters, Yuji's own words completely contrast Mahito's understanding of the world in his curious observation of it. 💡 If you want more insight into Mahito, the first light novel has an interesting vignette into him as a character and his motives that I didn't talk about.

Following the events of season 2, Mahito has deliberately dealt three critical hits to Yuji Itadori's soul. Delights in it, in fact. Junpei, Nanami, Nobara. Out of the ensemble cast of villains, only one character is responsible for all of the most gut wrenching losses in Jujutsu Kaisen (shout out to Mechamaru for that matter, too). It should be said that Mahito's own power, manipulating souls and recognizing the boundaries therein is, in my opinion, integral to the overall story.

Especially since we know, early on, that Yuji, as Sukuna's vessel, is a bad match-up for Mahito. It isn't until recent chapters that we recognize why that is even though it's been spoonfed to us.

Mahito vs. Yuji, Mahito's attempts to transfigure Yuji have no effect except getting into Sukuna's bad graces.

After years apart, Yuji instantaneously recognizes Yuko Ozawa despite massive cosmetic changes. (Massive shout out to the dude dressed as Nanami at Risucon that I nerded out about this with at my booth.) I feel like her introduction isn't for nothing. I assumed we'd see her again because that's how JJK typically rolls but what if she's already served her purpose?

⚠️ Implied spoiler: In later battles, Yuji is able to tune into the soul of his "opponent"

WILD CARD STRETCH: There's someone else in universe who can seemingly see a person's soul and it's Gojo.

ORIGIN HYPOTHESIS

Okay so, after all this, what is the point? Mahito is an anomaly of a curse and for him to have inflicted such big name carnage in terms of the plot shouldn't be ignored either.

At the beginning, I acknowledged the two main events that caused a major shift in jujutsu society as we know it. But in truth, there's one more major event that has been intrinsically woven throughout the fabric of this story. That being the death of Riko Amanai and Gojo's subsequent transcendence.

Due to the shift caused by Gojo's power up, the volume of curses that sprung up became burdensome that summer. Causing a further divide between Gojo and Geto and, ultimately, part of the wedge that sent Geto down his path to destruction. But, if Gojo's birth caused the scales to tip... how could the universe (encompassing sorcerers, humans, and curses) restore balance from an unmitigated windfall of power?

Spawning another aberration: Mahito.

Where curses are typically a byproduct of humans and beholden, in some way, to the conditions of their negative emotions, Mahito doesn't really strike me as something specific enough to be as strong as they are without some significant origin. Jogo, Dagon and Hanami all have physical attributes that are a nod to what they hail from.

While there could be cultural nuance or lore that I don't have access to as a Western reader, Mahito's heterochromia, patchwork skin and, at times, seemingly horse-like legs don't really strike me as a well known allusion to anything else. What if that's the point? What if he's not the product of human fear or negative emotions? What if he's actually the evolution of sorcerer's negative fears and emotions as a subsequent counter balance to Gojo?

EVIDENCE

As the initial fight between Nanami and Mahito unfolds, during his extrapolation of Mahito, is it not weird that even he thinks to compare them?

JJK exposition is typically executed so nonchalantly, in conversations that go right over the reader's head... until the moment it lands. So even offhand comments here and there tend to foreshadow something or someone that becomes critical to the plot:

The Occult Club's conspiracy about spirits on the field making people sick immediately shown to be true when Megumi shows up which demonstrated an existing sensitivity to the supernatural and ultimately ties in to Yuji's gigantic reveal of a back story which suggests even if he wasn't "in the know" he was always doomed for a life in jujutsu society.

Yuji's grandfather, on his death bed, trying to explain to Yuji about his parents falling on obstinate ears. LITTLE DID WE KNOW.

Megumi mutters to himself about Maki (as "Zenin") long before she becomes a pillar in the story, comparing Yuji to her in terms of birth/power. Meanwhile, Maki is cast as a reiteration of Toji and razes hell upon the birth line that created them both (if Itafushi is next gen SatoSugu, Maki is a restorative for Toji).

Megumi talks about Okkotsu being the only second year he respects. Those caught up on the manga are aware of Okkotsu's behemoth importance well beyond his role in JJK 0.

During the juvenile detention center arc, again, Megumi refers to the juvenile who killed a young girl while driving without a license and fan theories suggest that this could very well be the man who killed Rika Orimoto.

Frequently, we get a pin-size remark that casually provides some surface context but it never feels without reason and more than half of these are in the very first episode. It's also interesting that these expository moments are usually handled by largely straight laced Megumi or people like Yuji's grandfather and Nanami. Like Gege can only trust the plot in their overly serious and curmudgeon-y hands 😂

Cut back to Nanami's fight, Mahito's playfully torturous curiosity and taunts are that of someone who knows they've already won. Even as Nanami's cursed energy exponentially increases in overtime, Mahito is simply awed but not deterred from the fight trusting in the inevitability of their strength over that of any human's or sorcerer's.

Even this mirthful moment reminds me of Gojo testing Nobara outside of that apartment complex where he facilitated her first experience with a Tokyo curse. To see if she's really crazy because that's what survives as a sorcerer. But it gives way to another interesting piece of evidence.

In Nanami's assessment of Mahito, he surmises that, despite the strength of the curses it's a child. Relatively "young" compared to the ancient curses of the Earth, the Forest and the Sea and, yet, capable to stand shoulder to shoulder with them. Isn't that odd? Can't just be born of undirected hate. After all, even Mahito's conversation about Love, Hate and Indifference in the scheme of Mahito's origin seems to muddle the fact that most people are satisfied with indifference until possessed by something else... like revenge. A convenient solution Mahito offers Junpei after this exchange and what ultimately set Junpei as a pawn in his larger plan.

Junpei: Don't you think that whoever first said "The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference"... must be rotting in hell? There's no way hating people is better than feeling indifferent toward them. The opposite of 'like' is 'hate'. Complicating simple answers for the sake of meaning is such a Japanese thing to do. Mahito: People like wordplay. After all, people can't live without making excuses.

As their fight concludes in a draw, Nanami further exposes a possible timeline for Mahito's materialization which is why I've historically assumed it was in line with Sukuna's awakening but, to scale, that would have precipitated a grossly exacerbated evolution to the unfathomable body count Nanami surmises.

I can't help but note Nanami's reference to greedily enjoying one's growth is also on par with Gojo's attitude about power and encouragement to Megumi to "be greedier". Not only with how he fights but how he lives which is being echoed in the current events of the manga.

After all, nothing is included for no reason.

All things considered, Mahito's impression of their own strength and confidence very much puts me in the mind of Satoru Gojo pre-death of Riko Amanai but especially after his resurrection and mastery of reversed curse energy and optimizing Limitless. Gojo never really loses his playfulness but Gojo also never really gives in to the seduction of his own power quite as much. I mean, until he meets a foe he can go all out against.

So what if, in response to Gojo's insane and unprecedented power up, Mahito is born? What if Gojo precipitates a curse born of unheard of origins, that of sorcerer's negative emotions. A product of sorcerer's jealousy toward his strength, a product of Geto's own envy, a product of Gojo's guilt or shame in being left behind? Is it possible that the timeline Nanami surmises correlates with the events of the Hidden Inventory/Premature Death arc(s)?

Are Gojo's similarity to Mahito only surface level? In many ways, we've seen where this generation of first and second years are a second chance at resolving that which Gojo and Geto put into action with their own hubris. How similar paths they have walked but where Gojo's cultivation of Megumi in response to his own loss is coupled with the temperament of Yuji's soul and yields different results. There were many points in Gojo and Geto's history where things could have gone differently but their missteps landed jujutsu society where we are now.

But is that enough? Or is Mahito further punishment for SatoSugu's confidence before the fall? One that burdens the first current years as a test of their resolve?

Imagine if SatoSugu had just kissed and made up before. Where would we be now?

SUMMARY

TL;DNR: At the root of everything, including societal collapse, it all traces back to Gojo (and Geto) and, as we've known all along, Itafushi has the power to restore what was lost.